The Completion Forwards Principle [Nine Days film review]

How can a film which is essentially about a small group of individuals all interviewing for the same “job” be engaging, never mind entertaining? The answer is simple: by presenting a provocative story delivered by a fantastic ensemble cast.

On the surface, the applicants spend nine days being interviewed, during which time they discuss such diverse topics as morality, compassion, anger, sadness, joy, suicide, and what it means to truly be “alive.” Throughout the course of the film many other subjects are touched upon, subjects that will cause one to wonder about the meaning of life. Okay, so perhaps it sounds a bit more like a collegiate lecture than an entertaining film, but thanks to a wonderful cast and crisp direction, the film manages to amuse as well as provoke.

Rendered in a stark manner that emphasizes characters over action and locale (here it’s a barren clay desert on which sits a solitary frontier styled house), Nine Days offers up a lot of metaphysical food for thought. Yet despite all its inherent headiness, it narrowly avoids getting overly bogged down. Sure, sometimes the sheer amount of ideas being unleashed can feel as if you are being bombarded by an earnest mishmash of Psych 101, Sociology 101, Humanities 101, Philosophy 101, and Ethics 101, culled together into a broad reaching Cliff’s Notes on the key subjects from those courses; at times it feels as if writer/director Edson Oda is trying to cover too much ground, forcing too many ideas on us all at once. It can be a bit overwhelming, to be honest.

The assembled cast, however, overcomes this seemingly never-ending barrage and helps to keep things grounded. At the core is a wonderfull tour de force from Winston Duke as “Will”, the interviewer. The ever-beguiling Zazie Beets gives a captivating performance as the wild-eyed and inquisitive “Emma.” Rounding out the cast is the jovial, yet wise presence of Benedict Wong, the even-keeled delivery of BIll Skarsgard, a hyperactive blast from Tony Hale, and quiet, sensitive turns from both David Rysdahl and Arianna Ortiz.

Nine Days will keep your mind reeling and drifting off into myriad thought provoking tangents, but it should also entertain you thanks to the sheer bravado of the actors involved and the finely tuned nuances of the story itself.

Suicide (Squad), It's A Suicide (Squad), Biddy Bye-Bye [The Suicide Squad film review]

 IMHO, The Suicide Squad is the only summer blockbuster of 2021 worth risking a trip to the local cineplex for.

I laughed.

I cried.

I gasped.

I sighed.

I was teetering on the edge of my seat most of the time.

I would have to say, this film is gonzo sublime.

Seriously, though, somebody in Hollywood needs to pass a moratorium on comic book movies unless James Gunn is the one to write and direct every cinematic adaptation hence forth. Dude gets the medium better than anyone else, so far.

In structure, Gunn’s stab at The Suicide Squad has been drawing not-without-merit comparisons to his Guardians of the Galaxy films. Yet, honestly, this film has more in common with The Magnificent Seven than Guardians; it’s about a group of outlaws who come to the rescue of a small country caught under the thumb of a ruthless dictator. This comparison also helps because there are 7 members in this incarnation of The Squad. But, yeah, it does have many of the same comedic beats as Guardians, so there is that. 

Here, as with his work on GOTG, Gunn showcases his mastery of what I have deemed “The Three S’s”: Satire, Seriousness, and Sap.

When it comes to the funny, Gunn nails Satire and just about every other comedic element you can think of. He understands irony, broad humor, and puerile schtick (how else to describe John Cena striking a Charles Atlas pose wearing tighty whiteys while his bulging nut-sack is barely contained within the strained confines of the skimpy fabric? It's an image that makes Marky Mark’s Calvin Klein underwear ads pale in comparison). Furthermore, Gunn seems to be able to corral that most elusive of comedic elements: camp. This is predominantly revealed in a couple of Harley Quinn sequences featuring flowers and colorful parakeets.

Yet for every yuck and guffaw, Gunn manages to contrast all the quirky humor with well-tempered strains of Seriousness. He inserts moments of somber reflection into the film here and there, just enough to keep things grounded. Plus his use of so-called “serious actors” is pretty great. Sure, he “inherited” Viola Davis from the previous film, but he really taps into her take on the Squad’s dubious leader. He also adds a heightened sense of importance to the proceedings thanks to the presence of the highly regarded thespian mannerisms of Idris Elba, Playing it mostly straight, Elba’s Bloodsport helps to juxtapose the chaos and chicanery of characters like Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn. Likewise, Daniela Melchior’s subdued take on Ratcatcher 2 lends an extra emotional depth to the story. 

And finally, there’s Sap (or Sentimentality, if you prefer). I’m not gonna lie, I’ve cried every time I’ve seen Guardians of the Galaxy 2. And my tear ducts got partially cleaned out more than once during this film’s 2-hour plus runtime. Gunn knows how to craft dialogue and situations that pull at your heartstrings, yet don’t feel the least bit manipulative or contrived. Conversely, a film like F9, whose whole franchise has pushed the notion of “family”, has taken that concept and turned it into a limp cliche. Somehow Gunn manages to instill his familial elements with heart and soul and they resonate with a realness that may have existed in the early films of the Fast and Furious, but now just feel highly manufactured.

While Gunn’s command of “The Three S’s,” forms the crux of the film’s heart and soul, it is also his firm grasp on what I am calling “The Two P’s” which is ultimately the glue that holds everything together. His sense of Pacing is fantastic. The story moves along briskly, but it also knows when to Pull back and when to Push forward. And his Plot has Purpose (Okay, perhaps it’s the “Five P’s.” We’re mostly concerned with “Pacing” and :Purpose” here; the other “P’s” are bonus. But I digress).  When the eventual “Big Battle/Cataclysmic Cosmopolitan Destruction” is unleashed in the third act it doesn’t feel like he’s forcing that inevitable action piece down our throats. It’s also gloriously restrained in comparison to other superhero team battles. To wit, he never tosses over-blown and mind-numbingly gratuitous CGI-candy at us like so many other directors do in films of this ilk. Instead, the final boss battle has a purpose (and dare I say, poise?) and fits nicely into the rest of the film.

Gunn also has a wonderful knack of being able to play to your standard audience and nerd circle fanboys, simultaneously, without pandering to either. He pays homage to comic book masters such as Will Eisner and Jim Steranko (his use of clever interstitial scenes to denote the “chapters’ of the film, for example), as well as riffing on Disney classics like Snow White. Even if you don’t get all of the references (undoubtedly I missed many), they’re still cool. And when he tosses out scenes that are drenched in déjà vu--a Harley Quinn crimson dress ballet of bullets, for example--they come of as fresh homage rather than derivative rip-off. 

Another thing he has done well is to make anthropomorphic and monosyllabic characters seem very real and very human. He did this with Rocket, Groot, and Drax in Guardians and here he does it with King Shark and Sebastian the rat. Furthermore, the level of realism that is reached here with the CG is rather amazing; then again focusing the CG on non-human characters certainly helps to diminish any uncanny valley elements. It is a testament to his script writing and directing skills that a stumpy, lumbering CG shark-man-god is just as compelling as his actual human counterparts.

Then there’s the soniference that saturates the soundtrack (Oh shit, more “S’s”!). As with GOTG, music plays a large role in the overall make-up of The Suicide Squad. And while Gunn’s song choices may not be quite of Quentin Tarantino level, he still knows how and where to place a song to evoke mood, humor, and emotion.

All of this said, there are a few missteps. Most prominently is the “happy” ending, which seems at odds with the whole Suicide Squad schtick. And then there is the obligatory post-credit sequence. Here it sets things up for an already green-lit HBO Max series starring John Cena. These, thankfully, are the only real moments of cash-grabbing disingenuousness in the whole film, so kudos to that but I, for one, would have been really stoked with a much darker ending.

Anywho, all the other directors of comic book films (and heck, even the crew behind the Fast & Furious franchise) should be snatching pages from Gunn’s playbook; then again, perhaps not. In the course of his three “comic book” films, Gunn has positioned himself as the singular talent in the over saturated superhero cinematic realm and it would be a shame to have a bunch of watered down copycats filling the cineplexes with even more dreck than usual.

When all is said and done and the end credits are done rolling, The Suicide Squad reveals itself to be a wonderfully wacky and snarkily smart ride filled with chills, thrills, tears, and moments of oddball joy. Oh, and it’s smack jammed with plenty of good old ultra-violence and just the right amount of absurdity. In short, it’s everything you want-- and need--in a comic book movie.