My Thoughts on Promising Young Woman

This feels like it's been a long time coming. Not Promising Young Woman's actual release, although it does feel like an eternity since the trailer dropped back in December of 2019, but the film itself, with its combination of topical subject matter and bold approach. Emerald Fennell's slick showrunning consistently one of the best things about Killing Eve's second season, and so her directorial debut has been hotly anticipated. It's a film that has proven divisive, and its subject matter will understandably be triggering for some, but its gung-ho approach and refusal to compromise has made it one of the talking points of the last few months. So let's talk about it

Cassie Thomas lives a fairly standard life as a medical school-dropout working in a coffee shop and living at home. At night however, she's something of a vigilante, luring in "nice guys" with a fake drunk act, after which they take her home and.... the less said about the plot, the better. This is a film that massively benefits from going in cold, so if it's not in the trailer, it won't be in this review. It's clear from quite early on that Cassie is fueled by rage and looking to right a past injustice, and this is the force that drives much of the film. Again, it's a film that very directly deals with a difficult subject matter, and although Fennell refrains from any graphic depictions, the frequent, open discussion of sexual assault might be tricky for some viewers and that's absolutely fine. This is a film that takes aim at a larger system, one that enables harmful behaviour through weak justifications, damning silence and a general lack of support. As Cassie gradually works her way through the list of people who perpetuate the cycle that caused her so much pain, the film is able to find its rhythm, building and releasing tension carefully as it doles out its hard-hitting insights

A huge part of that is the cast. Carey Mulligan is arguably the best she's ever been, filling Cassie with righteous anger and deep-seated sadness that comes out in every look, gesture and expertly delivered line. Fennell's decision to cast Cassie's cavalcade of nocturnal targets as fresh-faced actors with a natural likeability is a masterstroke as well. Adam Brody, Christopher Mintz-Plasse and Max Greenfield perfectly perpetuate the idea that anyone could be a predator, no matter how many times they assure you they're a "nice guy". This casting is doubly effective when Bo Burnham turns up and sows doubt into both Cassie and the viewer. Can he be trusted, or will the film's carefully constructed pattern prove Cassie right and deny her actual happiness and fulfillment?

The tone is expertly handled, too. Fennell manages the white-hot fury under the candy-coated surface so masterfully, and the thrill of the film comes from how deftly it bounces between rom-com sweetness and something much darker. The two moods swap around so quickly and frequently that, by the hour mark, they're closely intertwined, and Fennell has managed to create a sense of genuine, palpable danger. The music plays a huge part in that, from disarmingly sugary pop like Paris Hilton's Stars are Blind to a bone-shakingly haunting rendition of Toxic in the much-discussed third act. That climax won't be spoiled here but when Fennell does show violence after holding back for so long, she lingers on it, forcing the viewer to look and fully consider what this means for the story and the culture it's commenting on. The reveals are shocking but never surprising, and that's where this film works best. The heaviest plot beats are ones that the viewer might be able to predict purely out of familiarity with the way society tends to treat such accusations, and the fact that we're at a place where that's possible is the thing that Fennell mourns most of all

And that's ultimately what the film is. For all of its stylish thrills, puncturing moments of comedy and white hot primal screams of rage against a world that seems incapable of improving, Promising Young Woman inevitably feels like an expression of grief. The ending uses Juice Newton's Angel of the Morning as an anthem for a justice steeped in remorse, going out on a supercharged high that feels absolutely true after everything that the film was building towards. It ends on a powerful note, not a definite conclusion or a catch-all solution, but a stinging social comment that lingers long after the credits roll

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

My Thoughts on Palm Springs

The last 13 months have been exhausting. Any film capturing the zeitgeist now will have to do so for an audience that is so hyper-aware of everything going on in the world and craving an escape over any sort of direct address of the world's morale. But what if a film could do both? Enter Palm Springs, a frothy, sunny rom-com that offers delightful refuge to burnt-out filmgoers, while also deftly exploring how draining it is to live the same day again and again. It took a while to arrive on these shores, but it floated onto Amazon Prime earlier this month after building up a hefty amount of buzz. But was it earned? Let's find out

The film is set over the course of a wedding taking place on November 9th, as sister of the bride Sarah meets laidback cynic Nyles. From the start, Cristin Milioti and Andy Samberg sell their chemistry, her ambiguous angst bouncing off of his relaxed world-weariness. It's all very meet-cute until she wakes up to find that it's November 9th again. And again. And again. If you're reading this and getting flashes of Punxsutawney, then it's to the great credit of writers Andy Siara and Max Barbakow that Palm Springs is able to find new ground in the time loop genre, and become its own small landmark in the process. It runs at a lean 90 minutes, and breezy as its pacing is, it never stops the film from charging head-first at a Groundhog-style plot beat before ducking and rolling into uncharted territory. It's not that the story points themselves are new- the film is a respectable mix of rom-com tropes, sci-fi concepts and broader gags- but the way Palm Springs arranges them does feels distinct, and is massively exciting as a result

Part of this comes from the duality of it all. Sarah and Nyles provide two entirely different perspectives on the concept, and watching how their experiences of the loop overlap and contrast and deepen their relationship is what forms the backbone of the film's charm. It keeps its more intricate plot beats stewing under the gags for most of its run, tiding the audience over with sharp lines ("You're cheating on me, ya goof") before blindsiding them with smart storytelling and genuinely poignant character turns. Without spoiling anything, the way the film explores Nyles' deep-seated cynicism is the ace up Palm Springs' sleeve. The growing apathy under his cool demeanor is bound to resonate with anyone who has found this past year especially draining, and although the film was completed and premiered before the pandemic started, the timing of its release feels on-point for that very reason

Palm Springs is a salve. It frames love as a cure for gnawing indifference without ever sacrificing its hilarious gags, surprisingly intelligent plot twists and deep reservoirs of charm. It's another triumph for producers The Lonely Island and a massive calling card for the bafflingly underrated Cristin Milioti. It's a delight, smart and fun enough to serve different purposes for different audiences. It nails an incredibly tricky balancing act as the rare crowd-pleaser that swings for the fences and absolutely delivers. It makes a passionate argument that just because a film is fun doesn't mean it should skimp on the substance. And folks, that's something that everyone could use right now

 ★ ★ ★ ★ 

My Thoughts on Minari

Lee Isaac Chung's Minari has been attracting heavy praise since its premiere at Sundance last year, and somewhat unsurprisingly, it's become a massive hit on the awards circuit. Most contentiously, it won Best Foreign Language Film at this year's Golden Globes, which is slightly ridiculous, because this is explicitly a film about an immigrant family's pursuit of the American dream, and goes on to suggest that the essence of America is the multitude of cultural specificities that the country is composed of. It is absolutely an American film, and the notion that stories about POC don't belong in that category is frankly ludicrous. Minari tells the story of the Yi family as they travel to rural Arkansas in the early 80s in search of a new life. From there, the film eases into the poetry of the everyday, as father Jacob tends to his land, kids David and Anne adjust to their new life, and grandmother Soon-ja is flown in to lighten the load

Minari is a film about small routines, little gestures that build into larger payoffs. Farming, parenting and assimilation are all large commitments that take effort and patience to yield successful results, and Chung revels in these processes. The film is light enough to weave tones together in a way that never risks losing consistency; it flirts with natural comedy, deeper drama and the earnest rhythms of life that translate perfectly onscreen. It's a careful blend established early on, something that allows the film to ease closer and closer into the huge emotional insights it doles out in the third act. Like a great farmer, Chung knows that good things take time

The film has an organic, observational structure, almost like the audience has stumbled across this story by accident. This is bolstered by the cast, who present themselves in such an organic, natural way. It's like watching a real family onscreen, but standing back and looking beyond the illusion proves valuable as a way of seeing just how much effort each member of the cast has put into making it look so seamless. It's a perfect recreation of life, and it's on top of such a believable foundation that they're able to construct a portrait of the American dream that never feels anything less than true. Special mention to Alan Kim, whose performance conveys a level of depth and eloquence that marks the arrival of a hugely exciting screen presence that I can't wait to see more of

The film excels in moments of specificity, and the huge notes of truth and emotion in the third act just wouldn't be possible if Chung hadn't sowed the seeds early on. So much of Minari is rooted in his own upbringing, and he translates so many little nuggets of everyday magic that feel specifically his. The result of this is pure cinema, not diluted or compromised by an attempt to capture anything other than his own experience. It finds great universality in doing this, and the film ensures that the viewer is absolutely invested from the start. Stories like this matter, in society and in cinema. Especially after a year where so much of the conversation has been about blockbusters, about when No Time to Die is going to be released, or if Black Widow is going to drop on Disney+. Those films have their place but Minari strikes gold by skewing smaller, by delivering earnest, intelligent cinema at a time where it couldn't feel more needed. It's warm, lovingly crafted and massively valuable. It becomes a masterpiece through its quiet moments, and although its insights are delicate, they're no less impactful for it, and their effect is bound to be felt in the decades to come

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Rewrites, Cancellations and Least Favourite Genres (Q&A)

So a little while ago I asked for questions for a potential Q&A. I love the idea, and it's been something I had been tinkering with for a while, and thanks to some very lovely people on Twitter, I now have a slew of questions just waiting to be answered. So let's dive in!

Quick note before we get started: since I got these from Twitter, I'll be crediting people by their @s

@NoTea_NoShade asks two questions: If you could write an episode for one tv show, whether it's a TV show that's finished or one that's still on air, what one would you choose and why??

This is a really interesting question, and I think there's a lot of ways to take this. I did think about shows that would benefit from having a new episode come out in these weird post-pandemic times- which I'd probably answer Barry for if only to see Gene Cousineau teach a class over Zoom- but ultimately I tried to think of a show that I'm on a similar wavelength with creatively. Maybe Arrested Development, not just because it fits nicely into my sense of humour but also to numb the crushing disappointment of the last two seasons and give it at least one more episode that wasn't a total dud. I'd also like to take on The I.T. Crowd, especially with everything that's been happening with its creator. It's become a harder and harder show to enjoy and I wouldn't mind the chance to add an episode that could pinpoint what's great about the show that also wrestles it away from Graham Linehan's hateful hands

In terms of what that episode could be, I'd like to check in with Reynholm industries ten years later, where Jen has bluffed her way into some really successful life, Roy's still exactly where he is, and Moss has become some sort of all-powerful world leader, only to give it up to back to the I.T. department. Throw in some Richmond and Douglas cameos and I think we're good to go

Are there any shows that you think have been unjustly cancelled?? If so what?? And if they had of continued was there any particular characters or plot you would have been interested in seeing ??

So I'm actually working on a list kind of shows I love that were cancelled after one season, but I do love this question because we've all been there. We've all fallen in love for a show only for it to get take out way too soon. A year ago my answer would've been The Knick but that's set to make a comeback so I'm gonna have to go with the old favourite and say Hannibal. Obviously if it continued, we would have gotten a Silence of the Lambs storyline which would've been insane. To be fair I haven't seen Clarice yet, but it doesn't look half as interesting as Bryan Fuller's show

I guess slightly less obvious would be Glow, which understandably had a production shutdown due to Covid. I really would've loved to have seen where that show would have gone next, especially because there's still more of the actual story of the show left to tell. I also really like Love, maybe the most frustrating casualty of Netflix's cancellations, and even though the ending is really sweet, I'd still love to see more of Gus and Mickey's now married life together 

@elliott_salmon also asks two questions: If you could rewrite any ending to any television show... how would you do it?

This is a great, great question. I think it's more fun to talk about the endings that missed the mark rather than the ones that delivered, so ignoring the Felinas and the Meanwhiles and the Person to Persons of this world, there's an awful lot to choose from. I mean obviously I'd keep Bran off the Iron Throne but for a less obvious choice, I'd probably erase the interactive special and keep Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt's last episode as is

 In terms of a more in depth rewrite, I'd broaden out the last half of Gravity Falls' second season and take away the neat ending for Stan, using a timeskip to show how he's starting again and forging a new, slightly more honest life. It's funny because I loved Weirdmaggedon, but I thought the very last story beats felt a little too... clean. Which is especially strange in a show that was built not just on questions, but unexpected answers, too. Even five years later, it still doesn't really sit right with me. So yeah, I'd keep a lot of it the same, but I'd definitely put more emphasis on his sacrifice, and not have it glossed over as quickly as it is

If you could be in any sitcom, which would it be and why?

So one thing I love about sitcoms is the way they create interesting, dynamic worlds, full of distinct characters, but I don't think any show has done it better than Parks and Rec. Pawnee is more than a place, it's is own character. I know that sounds like a cliché but so much of why I love the show comes from how special the town feels. It's also the show with the most loveable cast, which is a big plus for being in that world. It's just such a real, well-constructed place, so full of details and brimming with life, and I think that's a huge factor in why the show is so great. Plus, the problems in that show are always pretty small-scale and zany, which definitely beats the moral hellscape of something like It's Always Sunny. It's a delight, and being in any town run by a ray of sunshine like Leslie Knope is bound to be an absolute joy

@kellyane_evans asks: What's your least favourite genre of film/tv and why?

This is a tough one. In terms of film, I'm generally pretty open, although I've had to learn to love documentaries, which I've really come around on. I guess certain kinds of blockbusters put me to sleep, in particular ones that I know were only made for money and lack any sort of creative presence, like the Jurassic World movies or your average Gerard Butler vehicle . Same goes for anything overly experimental (in particular Andrew Kötting's work), or anything where I can tell it's only being made to stroke the creators' ego, like pretty much anything from Charlie Kaufman. So I guess it's not so much the genre as it is the intention behind the film. Oh, and I also really hate films that only exist to shock and provoke and don't actually use that to say anything (we get it Gaspar Noé, you used real sex in your film, you're very clever)

It's slightly easier to do this for TV. As much as I love sitcoms, I really can't deal with a lot of cringe comedies or shows that derive humour from how awful their characters are. Same goes for anything overly cynical, or emotionally distant. Weirdly this doesn't massively bother me when it comes to movies, but I think if I'm investing a ton of time in this world, I want some sort of hook to keep me invested, and if a show feels weirdly insincere, it puts me right off. Rick and Morty is the prime example here, where the message of "everyone's awful and nothing means anything" just really annoys me. Not sure why, it just feels to easy of a conclusion to land on, and I'm definitely more drawn to shows that try harder to find some sort of positive resolution

Oh, I also really don't get 99% of teen dramas, although I'll concede that I'm probably not the target audience there