HEREDITARY(2018) Film Thoughts

It has been roughly twenty-four hours, and even now I still feel psychically dizzy from yesterday’s viewing. What I witnessed in that darkened theater simply should not work. Even when a part of me resists the earnest magic trick that first time director, Ari Aster has just pulled on audiences like me, it cannot be understated that HEREDITARY, is indeed the goods critics have praised it to be. Not merely content with playing the now-expected A24 affinity for then-contested films like THE SHINING, this exploration into the often unspoken rot at the core of the well-to-do American family, is a deep burn-making harrow machine with a clear-headed reverence to the classics of the genre.

It opens with the local obituary of one Ellen Graham, 78. Having been mostly bedridden in hospice with her relatively famous minitaturist daughter Annie(Toni Colette, in one rollercoaster performance), her husband, David(Gabriel Byrne), teenage son, Peter(Alex Wolff), and 13 year old daughter, Charlie(Milly Shapiro). Her passing due to cancer, has left the family with a basket of complicated feelings, particularly with Annie, who’s relationship with her mother was clearly both mysterious and contentious. And it is the divide between her roles of both daughter and mother, that we begin to take in just how much living with such a difficult matriarch in their house over Ellen’s final days, led to some simmering doubts and resentment that has quietly infected the entire family. Like a scab that has been removed, the mess is evident, and without proper addressing, could infect everything.

As mentioned, the Graham family seems to have been harboring some unspoken troubles prior to the eldest’s passing whilst living in an idyllic house in the Utah mountains. Annie’s life as a figure in the fine art world, tends to have her tending to her projects; specifically almost one-to-one miniature recreations of reflections from her life. And what we see over the film tends to serve as both exposition, and window into her thoughts and memories. Again, it is pretty clear in these that plenty remains unresolved until she sneaks into town to attend a grief counseling group where she admits to a legacy of mental illness that has long affected her bloodline. Incapable of reconciling with this, plus a creeping feeling of guilt without clear pinpoint comes bubbling to the surface. Her husband, David’s patience and understanding being perhaps the one element of solid anchoring she has. And then come the children, beginning with high schooler son, Peter who longs for his independence, but is evidently in a strained place with his mom. Lastly, is the delicate, quietly strange Charlie, who spends her time making sculptures out of random objects, draws, and lacks social grace. Annie’s mothers favorite, who’s world has been entirely upended by her grandmother’s death. The problems have clearly been unaddressed for some time, and now that a protective layer is gone, HEREDITARY is about that scramble for normalcy, when in fact nothing in most families is normal.   

And now this is the part where I have to stop and say that from here on, the review has to change gears. Even the above paragraphs I have shared might prove too much. What Aster and his crew have done, is both taken the age-old family drama dynamic, and somehow melded it with classic slow burn horror mechanics with a post-horror sheen and ambiguity. And while it may not play the same way with those familiar with the genre’s history, there is indeed something at play here that hasn’t really been done since possibly Peter Medak’s 1980 paranormal horror, The Changeling. And while even this isn’t a good enough hint as to what is happening, starting here and considering A24’s penchant for the quietly unsettling has probably always been headed in this direction. HEREDITARY, feels both very new, and yet remarkably knowing of its place as post-modern spook fest. It’s the kind of unique moviegoing experience you want to go in ice cold on.  

“Why was I born?”

The real, potentially lasting impact of HEREDITARY, is most likely going to be its almost unearthly caliber of performances, and memorable imagery. There is some indelible work here by the two children who perhaps bear the greatest burden in what is happening in the Graham home. Shapiro’s natural strangeness and grit, make her an instantly memorable presence throughout the entire piece. And this is via such sparse amounts of dialogue, one would swear we’ve all known her at some point in our lives. But the real revelation, is Wolff who’s youthful will to defy is mere dressing for something that inevitably leads to one of the most wrenching explorations of unchecked trauma I have probably ever seen. Byrne, grants the film a warmth and gravity to the proceedings as a man, simply doing the best he can to help everyone find equilibrium. And yet, this is truly Collette’s show as a mostly reluctant mom who’s world largely seems haunted by family on all sides. The film becoming a prism of these once dormant feelings, now allowed to run rampant. With the Graham house as a meticulously designed and lit reminder of the power of staging. Probably not since Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s super dated, yet brilliant PULSE, has a film so assuredly utilized silent film techniques to sell dread in such sumptuous heaps. The combined talents of Grace Yun, and Pawel Pogorzelski, are a haunting powerhouse.

Grief and trauma, two cornerstones of the horror experience, find themselves cleverly used here to sharp effect. Exploring what they are, and can be for both families and society, seems to lie at the heart of this film. If there are screenplay cheats regarding theme, they lie in a number of classroom scenes that evoke greek gods, civilizations and families long gone, often undone by a feeling of living within an inescapable game. Like a family with an abusive past, we too can find ourselves at the behest of forces bent on manipulating our fates for some selfish end. We may wish to rise and do our part to undo these chains, but the cost may at times be too frightening to consider. HEREDITARY delves into the possibilities of why we sometimes never bother addressing the the reality of our situations.

Possibly the scariest thing imaginable, reality.

Atomic Blonde(2017). Fortitude. Betrayal. Death Of Sentiment.

This weekend, I went ahead and experimented with a micro-review of sorts for David Leitch's post Wick spy adaptation. And while my initial thoughts leaned toward the lavishly stylized, yet occasionally overcooked final product, I'm about to perform the improbable, and state here that Atomic Blonde, is a film that demands more than one sitting for proper digestion. I can only speak for myself, in that the presentation might be something of a hurdle to get past that initial viewing. But come the second time, so much began to hit the pleasure and inspiration centers of my mind. And knowing how it ends, actually helped me better understand who was who, the whys, as well as the often distant demeanor that the film encompasses throughout its running time. So yes. Stating here and now, that I actually admire the film now for what it's attempting to do, and often succeeds at; presenting us with a vision of post-modern romance with 1980s europhila, coupled with an often cutting deconstruction of the spy film genre.

It's a film that is equally in love with a generation's pop art vision of latter Cold War intrigue, but isn't willing to lean either way into its politics. In fact, the film is openly exploring just how broken and desolate the lives of spies can really be, even as the world suggests that their larger goals are beginning to shift. History is in the making along the periphery of the narrative, as the Berlin Wall seems ever closer to falling in November 1989. And despite fiercely capable agent Lorraine Broughton (Charlize Theron)'s mission to recapture a watch containing a sensitive list of hidden agents(Yes, it's that cliche again.), machinations are at play beyond the fact that the KGB, is very much in the know of her presence in Berlin. And once she meets her local contact in David Percival(James McAvoy), it becomes quite evident that not only is she being treated like a hunted wolf, she's also bent on more than mere duty or revenge for the death of former colleague, and lover, James Gascoine. Her seemingly unflappable cold gaze, is betrayed by an often telling look, or slip of the tongue. Bathing in tubs filled with ice, enshrouded in an unearthly blue, Broughton is both searingly cold on the surface, but has a quiet simmer just brimming beneath the seemingly hard surface.

While the spy genre has indeed experienced attempts at deconstruction. One could argue that Daniel Craig's entire run as James Bond, has been a process of both deconstruction and apotheosis regarding our prolonged affection for both masculine ideals, coupled with an almost voyeuristic lust for the visage of the untethered spy. But what Atomic Blonde, posits, is that to be a successful spy, one must numb, no let's rephrase. We have to kill sentiment. Any semblance of humanity in order to get the job done. As displayed by endless baths in ice. Frigid looking hotel rooms. And an absolute use of humanness as little more than a mask to deceive and procure. Nothing less. The Spy world is cruel, paranoid, and unforgiving. Those without these qualities are little more than incidental. And those pretending to understand the spy game, can only eventually find themselves decomposing in some dank Berlin alleyway. 

This is further evidenced by Lorraine's encounters throughout the film, from her superiors back at MI6, her contacts, and even those she is tasked with helping along the way. Her demeanor is well-honed, reluctant as each new wrinkle is brought to her attention, and with a resolve that is both alluring, and clearly dangerous. But the real juice of this deceptively cold film, comes from the reality that her world is perpetually attempting to allow something her job simply has no room for warmth. Her survival, and success depends on that ever present danger for any person who lives like a human chess piece, our own need to be defined. We see it from the very start with her ice bath days after the action has already taken place. Despite her still being alive, there is a hint of loss. And it's in many ways one of the only time we get to see this outside of a bedside admission, and perhaps even waking from a dream. 

And this is where the film's biggest tell behind it's seemingly detached aura. Like many three strip Technicolor films of the past, Atomic Blonde's largest contribution beyond the screenplay, and eurowave of classic 80s radio hits, is it's color coding scheme. Something that should not only grant the film a singular look that almost apes the prints of one Patrick Nagel, but also gives away the film's biggest secret; Lorraine, in order to complete her mission- No. The only way she could become who she has to be, is to kill sentiment. Hence the ice bath. Her visage throughout the film is almost constantly in snow white combinations of clothing. Her colors most vibrant during her testimony with her superiors, and guest from the CIA. She is walking ice that requires a "recharge" every so often to keep matters sharp. So the key toward understanding her, and the film as a whole?

It's simple. 

Follow the Red.

Red, is the color of not only passion, but of truth. And in the film, red represents the vitality and inspiration often missing from her life. Which is why so much of Delphine LaSalle(Sofia Boutella)'s scenes are part, or wholly washed in red. These are the moments where we are allowed something of a more intimate side to Lorraine's inner self, desires, hopes, and ultimately reality. We even get a truly on the nose tell with her hotel room, awash in the expected cold hues, broken by a red door, with Delphine knocking behind it. There's another life hoping to come in, but for the sake of the larger mission, it's merely a distraction. This takes on an even crueler thematic dimension when one considers the characters who die throughout. It's no accident that red plays a part in the film's more climactic moments. Sentiment simply has no place in Lorraine's world. There is nothing but the mission. Even as Berlin is united, trust remains an almost impossible dream for many, especially those in the spy business. And this includes those who have tried their hand at it, not aware of the cost to one's soul. The color scheme, and the story seek to convey a terrible reality behind those who would live a litany of deception in the name of national security. Not everyone can be one. And those that adhere to the fantasy remain merely that, on the sidelines, bit players, or as random casualties in an endless war of shadows. Characters die, because they aren't a part of the fabric of the game beyond either a tool, or a clay pigeon. And in this film, love dies, identity dies, conscience dies, because this world is a spiritual vacuum from which passion is never allowed space to breathe.

This is further explored with the story of Percival, who's motivations become increasingly blurred, ostensibly dooming him to become a permanent totem of a Berlin now on the way out.

Deception to others. To comrades. To the self. It's a way of life.

In the world of this film, it's a warning to all of what processes led to the world we currently share. Not the most charming or warm message to impart.

So the film does run into problems by working not unlike a clinical examination. Warmth, is a luxury that the film, and its characters in no way are granted, save for another vodka, or a late night, half drunken tryst. It functions like a teenage daydream of a music video cum video game piece of art house without a human anchor to hold it down. And this is pretty much intentional. As to whether or not this was a good idea will remain in the eye of the beholder.For better or worse, Atomic Blonde, is a vision of human betrayal as daily reality, and that isn't something everyone is very willing to accept.