I might be a hypocrite - on Silver Linings Playbook and Django

Let's be honest here: all of the "controversy" over Django comes down to one question: is it okay for Tarantino to bypass education about slavery in favor of entertainment? To me, the question is obvious; of fucking course it is. It's not Tarantino's fault that there aren't many high profile films that tackle slavery, and he or anybody else shouldn't be obligated to sit down and hold the viewers hand and give them an in depth history lesson. Tarantino may have set himself up a bit for a lot of this because he was talking about 'exposing' slavery, and that can mean a lot of diffferent things, many of which he never intended to talk about. (A more accurate statement would be that he exposes the extent of the cruelty and dehumanization inflicted on black people in that era.) I mean, not every film has to move cultural perception forward, right?

This seemed really obvious to me until a while after I saw Silver Linings Playbook.

I was really ambivalent about this movie coming into the theater; it's been getting a ton of praise, critical and otherwise, and featured a mentally ill character that wasn't sensantionalized, so it piqued my interest. But it also seemed pretty damn cutesy, and Film Crit Hulk, probably my favorite film writer, accused the second half of making the entire movie insincere and straight up dishonest. But a friend offered to see it with me, and I hadn't spent a whole lot of time with her in forever, so I went.

And somehow I came out just as ambivalent as I went in. There are really great moments in this film; the core cast is outstanding, and there's a lot of truth towards recovering from a mental illness. And even when the film gets formulaic, I can somehow forgive it because I was invested enough in these characters and their struggles that I could watch things get a bit silly as long as it felt good. But for me, something in the film made me deeply uncomfortable in a way that nearly ruined everything. The first half, which just about every reviewer agrees is the better part of the film, hit some emotional button to the point where I was actually considering walking out of the theater, going home, and curling up under a blanket with a teddy bear. Obviously, I didn't, partly because I've never walked out of a film in my life, but also because I saw it with a friend and it would be a dick move to leave. That, and we were up in Kew Gardens; I had traveled way too far to run out on a film. It was strong enough that even though the second half followed the romcom formula to a tee, I was totally okay with it because it made me feel fluffy and good. My friend came out saying that she thought it was a great portrayal of people with mental illness, and for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to agree.

It took me a lot of time to realize why; there are some really mixed messages about Pat's illness. On one hand, we see that he's a regular guy who's had problems, but is attempting to work through them, first by himself, but then realizes he is much better on meds. His parents' worries and reactions towards his every move are sometimes frustrating, but completely understandable and accurate. He's not malicious or scarred from some childhood trauma, he just got dealt some shitty mind cards and has to learn how to get around them.

On the other hand, I feel like some of the humor in the first half undermines that level-headed and sympathetic look at him. Not to say that he needs to be handled with kid gloves; anyone who's been in a mental hospital can tell you that sometimes, in retrospect, some things people do or think because of their illness is kind of hilarious. But sometimes it feels like a line gets crossed. Pat throwing a book out the window and waking up his parents to rant about it? Funny, completely plausible for someone with poor impulse control. (Anyone who has tried to read through A Song of Ice and Fire would understand.) That kid who keeps trying to interview the Solitanos about Pat's illness. Funny, in that ha-ha wait-yeah-there-are-people-who-would-really-do-that way. Having Pat's dad chase him down the block? Cathartic. The actual conflict leading up to that is tense, raw, and upsetting, but then we get this scene of all the neighbors waking up and complaining, and it just felt so...false. It seemed like something out of a sitcom when the main characters are having a loud argument over something stupid, when in fact we just watched a pretty violent scene. The other thing it reminded me of was the nigger on a horse scene in Django, though in Django it's a standalone scene establishing the ridiculousness of racism (one dude on a horse is a pearl-clutching event!), whereas in Silver Linings, it directly follows something very serious. We laugh at the idea of Django on a horse being a spectacle, but in my opinion there's much less laughing matter about being woken up by an actual domestic disturbance. It's a cheap and hollow laugh that turns a serious scene into "Ha, look at these guys! Waking up the neighborhood with family members punching each other!" Both Pat and his father's anger problems are suddenly the butt of a joke.

The scene where Pat runs into his former boss also really bothered me; I just didn't find it funny that she genuinely scared for her safety. It's not even really expanded upon that people are afraid of Pat; I think it's mentioned once, yet that would be very important for someone trying to get their life back together. Instead, it's played for laughs, and not just 'oh hoho, misunderstanding!' laughs; we're supposed to laugh because Pat doesn't even get that he comes off as creepy. In the end, I realized that I don't think the film really cares that much about portraying mental illness as much as having quirkily fucked up people who can somehow fix each other by being together. Note that in the ending, we don't see if Pat has a job? Or possibly even his own place? All we know is that everything's well and good because golly gee, those two kids got together! When I think about it, the end suggests that falling in love with someone is just as important to well-being as medication and therapy. Maybe even more, since I can only infer that Pat is still on meds. And what about Tiffany? Pat is at least in therapy (with, of course, a charmingly foreign therapist because movies); am I really to believe that dancing and a new relationship has solved Tiffany's emotional problems? I guess. The film is iffy about caring about mental illness in the first half, and downright doesn't give a fuck by the second, and I think that's a serious problem.

Or is it? After all, I don't know if David O. Russell (or original novelist Matthew Quick) ever intended to make a film that furthered how mental illness is portrayed in pop culture; maybe they just wanted to tell a love story about some severely fucked up people. If Tarantino is allowed to wrap the horrors of slavery into a spaghetti western, why can't Quick or Russell mix some mental illness into a romcom? Do I expect this film to do too much like some expect Django to do? Is it possible that, being a Tarantino fan and a Russell neophyte, I'm giving Tarantino slack because I already really like him? Or that I'm being unfair because while the lasting social remnants of slavery affect me personally, it's not in the intense way that mental illness does.


You know what? I probably am, at least a little bit. In the end, even if Django deserved to be called out as much as other people have done, Silver Linings deserves to be called out even more because portrayals of mental illness don't get the same discussions that race does. Not to mention that Silver Linings can't help but sugarcoat some of the darkest moments with humorous situations or the Black Best Friend.

Also Django actually has complexity and sticks to doing something new, whereas Silver Linings decides halfway through to ditch originality and go full romcom.

I guess in the end, I really think Tarantino thought a lot more about showing slavery in Django than Russell (or Quick) thought about showing mental illness.

For Your Consideration screenplay minireviews

It's that season where the film industry gives awards to the film industry and at least a million people think they're clever and edgy by pointing out the cliqueness of it all! There are a bunch of screenplays available for anyone to download this year over here, and I thought I'd jot down a few thoughts on what I've read.

• Pitch Perfect: So formulaic it hurts, along with some "lol asians" thrown in for fun. The idea of blowing up the a capella world and treating it as Serious Business for comedy is actually a pretty good idea, but it's just...obvious most of the time. It's like Bring It On with singing and stereotypes, except not now that I think about it because Bring It On's rivals were actually fun and sympathetic and interesting. I've heard the actual film manages to be fun enough to ignore the formula, which is pretty impressive.
• Ted: I have to admit that I really didn't think much of Ted when it came out, and while I do like Family Guy I have a lot of problems with Seth MacFarlane. That being said, overall Ted is really pleasantly surprising; sure, it's another 'funny doofy stoner with mediocre job and stoner friend(s) has to grow up to get girlfriend back' story, but with a pretty fun spin on it. It's not as formulaic as it appears, and has the MacFarlane humor but with characters that aren't all sociopaths. Well, except for one or two. But that's okay.
• Something that is not okay though: MacFarlane really needs to let go of the ASIAN SPEAKY LIKE THIS COOK LIVE DUCK HAVE NAME SOUND FUNNY bullshit. Just stop.
• Django Unchained: God I love how Tarantino writes. The original screenplay is overstuffed and isn't quite the bloody awesomeness that is the final film, but it's got that charm, language, and panache that makes him so fucking great.
• Looper: Damn. I've always heard great things about Rian Johnson, but this is the only thing that I've actually read, and it's really impressive. He really knows how to create a world without explaining every single little thing or mechanic so he can focus on actually telling a compelling story. I mean, who didn't love when Old Joe tells Young Joe that he's not fucking explaining how time travel works because there are more important things going on?

Next to come: Savages (I've read the first few pages and I'm already turned off; wargasms? Really?), The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Lincoln, Silver Linings Playbook, Flight (only because I need to find out how the hell it has been nominated for anything because oh my god this is why the film did not work).

A word on some acting nominations

In my Django Unchained review, I wrote that Jamie Foxx is outshined by Christoph Waltz and Leonardo DiCaprio. Many people have said that he was simply out-acted, but to be honest, I think they're talking less about acting in general and more about Acting.

You know what I mean by Acting. The stuff that wins awards, that you notice right off the bat and can say "Damn, that is good acting! So good I noticed it!" DiCaprio and Waltz are getting recognition for their performances, and while I don't want to downplay how good they are (DiCaprio manages to make plantation owner Calvin Candie despicable without being cartoonish, and I'm convinced that Christoph Waltz is incapable of being anything less than stunning), it kind of irks me that they're getting all the clout while Foxx is left in the dust. Because let's face it, Foxx isn't doing an Acting part; Django's evolution is much more nuanced than King Schultz's charismatic demeanor or Candie's casual cruelty. Foxx does a great job of showing Django's growth from an uneducated slave to bounty hunter sidekick to guile revenge hero. For most of the film Django has to put a cool exterior over the emotions roiling inside of him and play the part of a despicable man in order to get to his wife. It's the most important part to get right, and Foxx hits it perfectly, but it's also much less noticeable as great acting because of the subtlety and stoicism of the part. It's understandable but pretty frustrating that he's probably not going to get much recognition for the title role of the film, and a little cringeworthy since the two actors who are getting recognition happen to be playing the white savior and evil slave owner in a film predominately about a black slave.

And, you know what, I'll be honest; I really liked Leo's performance, but I think a lot of the praise he's getting is more about the part than about him. I had read about how much trouble he had with getting into the head of Candie, and to be honest, when I saw the film, I expected a worse person than I got. It really seems to me like there's this giant shock!! factor about the character of Candie, where Leo apparently deserves extra special credit for being strong or brave enough to play someone so racist, and it does make me roll my eyes a little. Candie is a terrible racist with no regard for the lives of slaves, but let's be honest: that wasn't out of the ordinary in those times. I can't really put my finger on how to explain this, but it seems a bit self-congratulatory on the part of white people, like bringing to light how horrible people actually were is such an emotional burden to carry. And it's like, a bloo bloo bloo white people. I don't know how much sense I'm actually making (and I definitely don't mean this to turn into a white people/black people thing), but I guess I get the feeling that he's getting praise for the wrong reasons. He should be commended for keeping Candie out of goofy cartoon zone, which would have been pretty easy to fall into, but he's far from magical or show-stealing and I feel like everyone's getting baited by Acting and sort of forgetting about how great regular damn acting can be.

(It may seem like I should go off on Christoph Waltz as well, but he's a genuine show stealer who makes sure his character is so much more than the white savior. Also he's so charming he probably poops charisma and I'm kind of in love with him and his inexplicably amazing beard.)

I really shouldn't rail too hard on Leo though, because he really did have to work  to get through that part. If there's an example of someone racking up nominations that I think are kind of silly, it's Alan Arkin in Argo. Now, don't get me wrong, Alan Arkin is great in it, but Alan Arkin could play the snappy old man with snappy lines that he does in his damn sleep. The draw of Argo is that it does nothing new, but everything well (or at least well enough that you don't mind the last scene or the fact that the final chase is kind of silly), and it's really the same with the acting. Arkin, Goodman and Cranston, are gruff and a little crotchety yet loyal and funny, and they're the standouts of the film, but it's the comedic equivalent of Acting: beloved stars in their comfort zone. I don't want to downplay their performances, but they're one of those "of course" type of roles.

But maybe I'm jumping the gun; the Golden Globes are...the Golden Globes, and the Oscars haven't been announced yet, so maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised. I might just be too cynical; good Acting is still good acting, after all. I guess I just wish there was more room for subtlety when discussing performances.

But then again, I'm also really sad that Denis Lavant won't be getting any major recognition for Holy Motors, which completely relies on both amazing acting and Acting and batshit insane magic art movie mojo, so maybe I'm just a little frustrated with the Hollywood machine in general.

Guess what movie I loved?

Django Unchained in a nutshell