Contagion (Release Date: 9-9-2011)

        Americans are obsessed with the notion of apocalypse. Hordes of movies are dedicated to it each and every year, wether our downfall be a natural disaster, zombie epidemic, or extra-terrestrial invasion. It would be easy enough to write this off as an artistic indulgence were it not for the concept's prevalence in all of our daily lives. News reports warn of economic doomsdays, the rules of sanitary safety are constantly re-written, and internet articles slather blame and shame on anyone with a name you can recognize. It's this hourly avalanche of fear mongering and loaded words that makes us the scared people that we are, and Contagion is a movie set on putting that that all on display.

        The film is a globe-trotting yarn about the sudden spread of a viral infection, witnessed on scales both microscopic and massive. We open with business/family woman Beth Emhoff (Gwyneth Paltrow) returning home from a trip to Hong Kong with a pretty nasty cold. Turns out, it's a bit worse than a case of the sniffles, as Beth dies within Three days of contracting the unknown virus, leaving her husband (Matt Damon) baffled and alone. The big wigs are on it right away, Dr. Ellis Cheever (Laurence Fishburne) of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention calling in Epidemic Intelligence Service officer Dr. Erin Mears (Kate Winslet), as Dr. Leonora Orantes (Marion Cotillard) of the World Health Organization toils away in far-off China. There's also a muck-raking, rumor-spreading blogger (Jude Law), a kindly but nosy janitor (John Hawkes), any number of scientists working on a cure (Elliott Gould, Jennifer Ehle, and a puzzlingly and distractingly cast Demetri Martin among them), and about a bajillion other characters.

        To say that Contagion is a big movie would be the ultimate understatement. What it's doing in September, removed from both awards season glory and (perhaps more fittingly) large-scale Summer entertainment is beyond me. Director/Producer/Cinematographer(!?) Steven Soderbergh is no stranger to large casts with impressive names (Traffic, Ocean's Eleven and its sequels) but even by his standards, this seems like quite the project. There are literally no fewer than 30 characters who play an important role in the film, and it is the remarkable accomplishment of Soderbergh's direction and Scott Z. Burns' script that you end up genuinely caring about almost all of them. Unfolding in a slow, methodical manner, the flick is made weighty and terrifying because of its commitment to realism. It shows the outbreak, the reaction to the outbreak, and the reaction to that reaction, and at every step, it rings true.

        There's little need to discuss the acting here, as it is so uniformly strong that no one really stands out. Every time I near the conclusion that the finest performance belongs to Damon, I flash back to a scene of Law's deliciously over-the-top turn, Winslet's sturdy determination, or even young Anna Jacoby-Heron as Damon's strong-willed and loyal daughter, and am forced to bite my tongue. Contagion is a fascinating film, One that manages to warn about the dangers of fear while it simultaneously scares the day-lights out of you. It's this devilish contradiction that gives the movie its traction, along with superb craft on each and every level. I was all in with it until the last 20 minutes or so, and while the film's conclusion does strike me as something of a let down, what came before it simply cannot be denied. Contagion is electric entertainment that stokes the imagination, capable of the rare feat of deeply effecting the way you experience the world for at least several hours after viewing. See this movie, and then wash your hands afterwards.

Grade: A-

Warrior (Release Date: 9-9-2011)

        Stop me if you've heard this One before: Two brothers, One a child prodigy with hugely self-destructive tendencies, the other more subdued, and almost always regulated to underdog status. The Two both compete in a sporting event of One sort or another, as rock songs and familial bonding add drama and life lessons to the dynamic. This description perfectly befits Warrior, Director Gavin O'Conner's take on Mixed Martial Arts, and modern American unrest, but it also fits last year's The Fighter like a glove, as well as a litany of other big screen efforts. As The Fighter amply proved, you don't have to reinvent the genre wheel in order to come out with a big winner, but it does put something of a target on your back. If you've already seen Five other movies just like Warrior, why bother?

        Subbing in for manic, deranged Christian Bale is tortured, emotionally stunted Tom Hardy, who, as the film opens, returns home from a tour in Iraq to berate his recovering alcoholic father (Nick Nolte). Scenes of him restarting his life are interspersed with ones that check in on big brother Brendan (Joel Edgerton), a High School Physics teacher who moonlights as an MMA fighter to help pay the increasingly daunting bills. A pill-popping, whisky-swigging war vet, and an everyman on the verge of foreclosure: These are the hard lives of true Americans, and this movie isn't even about to let you forget that, ramming their hardship down your throat from start to finish. At least an hour and a half of the movie's hulking 140 minute runtime is dedicated to these stories, especially that of the damaged bond between Nolte and his sons, stuffing the entirety of the climactic, 16-entrant tournament into the film's final third.

        But what fights they are! Those who are repulsed by this seemingly barbaric style of fighting won't find much to enjoy here; The battles are all shot right up close, the sweat and pain pouring out onto the audience. I'm not a big UFC fan (nor am I particularly opposed), but even to me, it's readily apparent that these scenes are the best thing the movie has going for it. Hardy gives One hell of a performance, the unique sense of animal magnetism that made his titular Bronson performance so mesmerizing again in effect here, but the screenplay short-changes him with minimal character development and rampant cliche. Edgerton doesn't fare so well, his body and demeanor seemingly out of place in the violence-filled world of the film from the start. Sure, it's fun to hear Nolte's hardly audible, world-weary rasp, but no amount of yucking for the camera can help Warrior from simply seeming like another movie to add to its genre. It's action scenes are among the very most gripping and intense of the year, and the film confirms, once again, that Hardy has some BIG things coming his way (Bane, anyone?), but everything else here is standard issue.

Grade: B-

Das Racist: Relax (Release Date: 9-13-2011)

        Not a whole lot of promising musical careers start out with joke songs, but Das Racist was never exactly your typical act in the first place. For some reason that remains largely unknown to me, Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell was a pretty big internet sensation, endless repetition of the same few words proving hilarious to many. But repetition quickly turned out to be something that Das Racist wasn't much interested in, as their joyous, goofy, brilliant, 17-track, hour-plus long mixtape Shut Up, Dude readily affirmed. The group's Two MCs, Heems (Himanshu Suri) and Kool A.D. (Victor Vazquez) just so happened to each be in possession of distinctive, fully-formed rapping styles, Heems' aggressive, boisterous enthusiasm pairing perfectly with Kool A.D.'s half-asleep tongue-twisters. Their sheen was not to be diminished when, just Six months later, the duo dropped another mixtape, Sit Down, Man, an even larger (20 Tracks), crazier, and more accomplished collection that was downloaded 40,000 times within its first week of existence. Now, finally, we get our mitts on DR's first-ever proper LP, Relax.

        When lead single Michael Jackson dropped a bit over a month ago, it seemed like the band might be due for a change-up. Unlike the varied and bouncy beats of their mixtapes, the tune featured absolutely pounding instrumentals, filling up every last corner with sound. Perhaps even more noticeable was Heems' new-found growl, his flow taking on a whole new sound, One gritty and gravely. After an abrasive first listen or Two, it's clear to see that Heems' new flow befits the track's bombastic sound, but lazy-old Kool A.D. can sound like he's struggling to keep his head above water in all of the furry. Now we have the whole album, and, as it turns out, Michael Jackson only vaguely informs the disc as a whole.

        As a matter of fact, opener and title track Relax starts the thing off in the exact opposite direction, Vazquez's stream-of-consciousness spewings adorned only by minimal percussion. After a digital-baby-voice chorus reminds us to relax over and over again, Suri gets in on the fun, his voice nearly snarl-free, perhaps recognizing that such a beat wouldn't merit such beastly boasts. Like many songs on the LP, Relax ends in a flurry of odd sounds that somewhat betray the song that came before them, but finding something negative to say about the first half of the tune is much, much more difficult.

        So the relentless mania of Michael Jackson immediately proves to not be pervasive, but that song's new found focus on clearer, more expensive sounding production is echoed through-out Relax, most especially on the disc's first half. Brand New Dance is catchy and all, but its over-stuffed sonics never allow Heems and Kool A.D. to do what they do best, which is just pure flowing wordplay. Middle of the Cake is perhaps a tad more rap-oriented, but its spends an absolutely exhaustive amount of its runtime on a so-so hook, another accusation that could readily be leveled against the CD as a whole.

         In my eyes, Relax only starts to really make good on Das Racist's other-worldly potential on Shut Up, Man, but there are riches aplenty thereafter. Race, always a prominent theme in the rappings of the pair (Suri is of Indian descent, Vazquez both Afro-Cuban and Italian), is addressed in the group's standard playful, witty way when Heem's declares, "They say I act White/But sound Black/But act Black/But sound White/But what's my sound bite supposed to sound like?/I think I sound aight/I think I sound tight." As exemplified here, much of Das Racist's appeal rests in the fact that they bring humor and odd-ball energy to a genre often prone to chest-pounding and self-seriousness. Quoting any of their rhymes is almost superfluous: Lines of idiotic, pop culture and society-skewing brilliance show up by the dozen on every release they've ever come out with, and Relax  is nowhere near an exception to this rule.

        Picking up where Shut Up, Man left off, follow up Happy Rappy is minimal in backing and maximal in slippery loose-association free-styling. Punjabi Song uses a vocal sample of Indian singer Bikram Singh to brilliant effect, again toying with how we've come to contextualize and compartmentalize hip-hop. This is, of course, a band whose last release referenced Grizzly Bear and Pee-Wee Herman within mere seconds, here receiving production from such indie-pop luminaries as Rostam Batmanglij (Vampire Weekend), and Anand Wilder (Yeasayer). If there are genre walls that still need knocking down, Das Racist is there with a hammer, coaxing laughter and badassery out of American Capitalism, Chicken Sandwiches, and botched pronunciations of John Carpenter in equal measure. If it's not wholly clear by now, I'm a big, big fan of these guys, and while I'm not sure that I find Relax to be the crown jewel of their collection, it's certainly worth more than a few very loud listens.  Their releases have a pronounced tendency to grow on their listeners, far too much word play flying around to be gleaned right away, which is why I find it extremely likely that my already-positive review might grow to be even more ringing as time passes. If you like hip hop, I'd advise you to get your paws on this one asap.

Grade: B+

Neon Indian: Era Extraña (Release Date: 9-13-2011)

        It seems like right around now, all of the leaders of the often name-dropped, 'chillwave,' movement are due for their sophomore albums. The upstart genre has seen a series of releases in the last few years or so, but 2011 seems to be a banner year for the stuff. This 365 has already seen a second major release from Toro y Moi, Washed Out, and The War on Drugs. This week, it's Neon Indian, whose debut release, Psychic Chasms, helped popularize the woozy, fuzzy, computerized genre.

        By the initial sounds of it, you would think that the pet project of Alan Palomo had another hit on their hands. After the digital age freak-out of the seconds-long opening, 'instrumental,' track, Era Extraña bursts open into the lush sounds of early single Polish Girl. A bouncy little keyboard part leads the way, never straying as layers and walls of sound are added and subtracted, Palomo's ever-hazy voice misting over the tune. The affect is a marvelous piece of pop bliss, an ear worm on first lesson, and its because of that immediacy that the song's 4:24 runtime seems exhaustive in length. As can often be a stumbling block for the genre, the lack of song evolution here drags down the initial impact of what should be a stellar song, holding it back to merely very good.

        As it turns out, Polish Girl is largely not emblematic of the disc as a whole, but that's not exactly a good thing. Many of the album's tracks play like a redux of what we already heard on Psychic Chasms, Fallout replicating the slow-mo space-out 6669 (I don't know if you know) to diminished effect, Future Sick (while One of the LP's finest tunes) sounding like Deadbeat Summer sans single potential. Unfortunately, it would appear that the band is better served by retracing their steps than making bold new ones, as the instantly forgettable guitar cruncher Blindside Kiss, and poppier than pop Hex Girlfriend can readily attest. Sure, the production value of Palomo's project has risen over the last few years, but that doesn't matter much if the man turns out to be a One trick pony. It's easy to forget that Psychic Chasms was itself a pretty inconsistent album with a variety of high points, and Era Extraña just has fewer of them. Not a bad listen by any stretch, but One that slips comfortably into the background after the first few minutes of Polish Girl are over.

Grade: C+

Netflix Instant Watch Picks for September 2011

Before They Were Big Edition

Louie: Season One

        To call FX's hilarious show Louie an updated version of Seinfeld would prove both extremely accurate, and somewhat short-sighted. Like the famed sitcom, the brainchild of comedian Louie C.K. alternates between the surreal and mundane moments of real life, with interspersed bits of stand-up comedy intermixed. And while I'm not about to argue that Louie is the funnier of the Two programs, it makes up for it with a heightened sense of artisanship and pathos. Aforementioned C.K. Produces, Writes, Edits, Directs, and Stars in this fictionalized account of his own life, wherein a newly divorced Dad must raise Two young daughters while keeping his depression at bay, and getting through the insanity of day-to-day life. It's a show that not only understands the feeling of being in an emotional rut, but also sees the humor in it, many of the scenes proving both uproarious and tragic at the same time. Better yet,  the construction of the show is fascinating, from the varied and unpredictable camera work of Paul Koestler, to C.K.'s own bold and often belly-ache-inducing choices in the editing room. I've heard the Season Two is even better, so do like I did, and get caught up with this show before you're too far behind.

Let Me In

        The ultimate surprise in last year's crop of flicks, Let Me In accomplished the unthinkable in successfully remaking the very recent (2009) and very good Swedish vampire flick Let the Right One In. Now set in 1980's New Mexico, Let Me In is the story of Owen (Kodi Smit-McPhee), a scrawny young boy who is mercilessly picked on at school, only to come home to a mother who's too busy to look him in the eye. Into his apartment complex moves Abby (Chloë Grace Moretz), a young girl with a strange and alluring air that catches Owen's attention from the get-go, but it's not long before he discovers that his new friend isn't all that she seems. Those expecting this Americanized version of the story to water down the more uncomfortable aspects of the story should be warned: This isn't your Twilight-style vampiric love story. What makes Let Me In so great is that it steals every last thing that Let the Right One In did right, and then fashions that with a plethora of bold, stunning moves of its own. In honoring the messy emotions and desires of its pre-teen leads, be they sexual, violent, or vengeful, the film is able to concoct a strangely endearing romance while simultaneously creeping under your skin in an absolutely insidious way. Director Matt Reeves, who, in my eyes, didn't receive his due credit for his work on Cloverfield, paces the whole thing at a slow, steady, dread-inducing clip, while the sublimely beautiful work composer Michael Giacchino and cinematographer Greig Fraser provide enough emotion to match the considerable terror of the thing. The acting is also uniformly strong, the vulnerable and damaged performance of Smit-McPhee particularly inspiring. Few movies have ever left my stomach in knots like this One did, its oddly moving concoction climbing all the way up to number Six on my Best Movies of 2010 list, slotting ahead of such Best Picture Nominated heavy-weights as Black Swan, Winter's Bone, 127 Hours, Toy Story 3 and The King's Speech. Call me crazy, but just do it after you've checked this One out.

Following

        Despite the fact that he's about One step away from being a household name on the level of someone like Steven Spielberg or James Cameron, many have still not heard of Christopher Nolan's directorial debut, and even fewer have seen it. Made on what is readily apparent as a shoe-string budget, Following stars Jeremy Theobald as a young man with a peculiar affinity for following people through their every day lives. This practice leads him into an odd sort of friendship with Cobb (Alex Haw), another deviant with a disturbed practice or Two of his own, the bond resulting in a variety of unpredictable occurrences. Shot in grainy black-and-white and acted by a cast of complete no-names, Following is a new-age noir, this time starring freaks instead of ladies men. As always, Nolan excels at raising the pressure through-out the film, delivering perfectly on the boiling point of his unforeseeable climax. Weighing in at a meager 70 minutes (or under half as long as either The Dark Knight or Inception), Following isn't about to make you forget Nolan's weightier triumphs of late, but it's a hell of a ride when you're on it, and a fun peak into the younger years of One of today's most high-profile film-makers.

Leftovers: August 2011

Leftover Albums:

Moonface: Organ Music Not Vibraphone Like I'd Hoped
        In case this fact has somehow escaped you, I harbor a pretty big bias in favor of all things Wolf Parade. That being said, I'm almost always interested in the projects of co-frontmen Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner, but I also can't help but pine for the days in which they would rock as One (WP is on indefinite Hiatus). This disposition likely prevented me from enjoying this June's Sound Kapital, the new disc by Boeckner-led outfit Handsome Furs, as much as the next guy, but it has done nothing at all to diminish my affections towards Krug's solo debut under the alias Moonface. The album title listed above is entirely true: Krug had initially planned to record an album of nothing but looped Vibraphone, but finally decided the concept would be better served with organ sounds. The lack of other instruments does make for a smaller sonic world to play in, but Krug populates each song with a swirling, enveloping beat, nearly hypnotizing you mid-listen. The album is only Five tracks long, none shorter than Seven Minutes, but Organ Music still manages to feel like a full musical meal, the bright and shimmering Fast Peter, and the zombie-disco of Shit-Hawk in the Snow proving particular highlights. There's little doubt that this is a One-off: That I am aware of, no one has tried to craft a disc exclusively out of looping this particular instrument before, and I can't really imagine Krug making a habit out of it. Organ Music is as strange and singular as it is inviting and fun, and you should give it a listen today.

The War on Drugs: Slave Ambient
        You've heard this style of music before: A vaguely hazy sound lent to apathetic singing and gorgeous and casual guitar playing. Washed Out already released such a disc earlier this year, with Neon Indian's new set fast approaching (my review will be up this Friday), and here arrives the deliciously fuzzy debut LP of The War on Drugs, entitled Slave Ambient. As the name might suggest, there's little to no edge on the thing, not ideal for a house party, but perfect for a late-summer porch sit. Frontman Adam Granduciel sounds more than a little like 2011-breakout-artist Kurt Vile, a musician whose music I've always wanted to hear with a backing band. The War on Drugs provides me with just that (not to mention a hefty helping of Tom Petty-vibes) on tunes like trance/bliss inducing opener Best Night, and the echo-laden, percussion-heavy Come to the City. One of the most accomplished first full-lengths of the year.


Leftover Movies:

Life in a Day
        I don't review documentaries on this site, and I likely never will. I apologize if that makes me seem short-sighted, but I simply view them as a completely different art form, One with which I have minimal experience, and am thus an unfit judge. But I suppose it wouldn't exactly hurt me to point a good One out every once in a while, and Life in a Day marks just such an occasion. Comprised entirely of amateur footage submitted to Youtube on July 24th, 2010, Life is as beautiful, hilarious, terrifying, and awe-inspiring as an hour-and-a-half summation of the human experience should be. Being sure to frame the project from a global perspective, Director Kevin McDonald includes clips from all over the world, encompassing moments as elating as sky-diving, as stirring as a no-holds-barred clip of a cattle-gun in use, and as mundane as a young man's first shave. I walked out of this movie feeling vivacious and alive, and you will too.



Bellflower
        This year has already seen a variety of Independent Film triumphs, as well as a bold and assured directorial debut or Two, but Bellflower stands out as the flick most emblematic of the audacity of the micro-budget American Indie. Somehow strung together on a budget of just $17,000 (or .0001888% of Conan the Barbarian's 90 Million, if you will) Bellflower is the debut feature of Writer/Director/Producer/Star Evan Glodell, and it makes quite the impression. The story follows the life of Woodrow (Glodell), a Twenty-something who spends his days building flame-throwers and making Mad Max references with his BFF Aiden (Tyler Dawson). Into his perpetual state of youth stumbles Milly (Jessie Wiseman), a free spirit for whom Woodrow falls for immediately. To the surprise of no one, things don't work out perfectly, and Bellflower makes a mid-movie detour from endearing romance to deranged grief. Shot on custom-designed cameras built by Glodell himself, Bellflower is rendered in a yellow-y soft-focus that brings both the nostalgic and hallucinatory elements of the film to the forefront. The movie is nothing if not daring, making One bold and divisive move after another, but there's never a doubt that it is the work of a true talent with a belly full of fiery ambition. Though not at all for the easily-shaken, Bellflower is the announcement of Glodell as a talent to be reckoned with, not to mention a great movie in and of itself.

Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (Release Date: 8-26-2011)

        Alright everybody, we've made it through the season of Superheroes, sequels, rampant special effects, sequels, remakes, and more sequels. Congratulations! Oh, your reward? Well... How about a late-August/Early September parade of Horror flicks?!?! What started with Final Destination 5, and continued on with Fright Night, now carries on with Don't Be Afraid of the Dark, the new Guillermo del Toro-Produced scare fest. The movie lays its scene in an old, menacing mansion, where young Sally (Bailee Madison) is forced to move after her mother ditches her with oblivious dad (Guy Pierce). Already throughly displeased about the move, Sally begins to hear voices and bumps in the night, but the only One who will believe her is her father's new flame (Katie Holmes).

        There are a lot of cliches at work within Don't Be Afraid of the Dark, a fact that never prevented this year's earlier Insidious from coaxing a scream or Two. But this time, the screenplay relies too heavily on the idiocy of its protagonists to move the plot along, which I understand is a stand-by method of the genre, but it still detracts for me. The eventual culprit at work within the movie is also a bit underwhelming when you finally get to see it/them for any sustained period of time, Thank god for Oliver Stapleton, who's cinematography is easily the best thing about the flick, employing darkness for contrast, and about a million different camera angles. Outside of his work, Don't Be Afraid of the Dark is just another horror movie, with occasional scares, and occasional eye-rolling. Welcome to September...

Grade: C