Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca – as of the time this article was written – is 75 years old. It is considered by film historians, film critics and general film fans as one of the greatest, if not THE greatest, film of all time. What makes a film like Casablanca age like the fine wine served in Rick’s Café? Is it its ensemble cast of memorable characters: Renault, Ferrari, Ugarte, Sascha and Sam, all interacting in such a sprawling and unique location such as the aforementioned Rick’s Café? Perhaps! Is it its suspenseful story of refugees trying to find their way to America while dodging the Nazis? That’s a great argument as well. But what I believe makes Casablanca stand out amongst the crowded lists of “The Greatest Movies of All Time” is its masterful characterization of Rick Blaine, and his inner conflict throughout the film, and how his experiences with love drives his every decision. Many of us who have experienced love, and then lost it, can relate to what Rick is going through. Being heartbroken is one of the most powerful emotions anyone can feel. The love of his life left him, and he can’t help but feel resentment and bitterness towards that person. It’s making yourself vulnerable to the person you love, and having them run away with it leaving you cold. Forcing you to close the door on said vulnerability, you decide to lock it away so no one could possibly hurt you that badly again. This is what shapes Rick as a character entirely. He’s so hesitant with helping anybody, because he doesn’t want to open himself up to being heartbroken once again. I think we can all relate to that in one way or another. There’s one scene in Casablanca that in my opinion sums up the emotional core of the entire film. Soon after Ilsa and Victor arrive at Rick’s Café, Ilsa tells the piano player Sam to play, “As Time Goes By”. This was an important song in the relationship of Rick and Ilsa, so when Sam starts playing it, Rick naturally gets upset and tells Sam to stop playing. That’s when he first sees Ilsa again. The combination of the performances by Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman, the music swelling as they lock eyes, and the cinematography framing the two looking at each other says SO much about what the characters are going through, without saying anything at all. That is one of the most impressive beats of visual storytelling I’ve ever witnessed in film, and I can see why the film is revered as such a classic. Casablanca is purely the complicated relationship of Rick and Ilsa, and how powerfully it’s told. It’s complicated, yet relatable, and that’s what makes the film so timeless. Jeremy Kolodziejski Jeremy is younger than he looks, and has passionately studied the art and craft of filmmaking for as long as he can remember. He is currently a freelance wedding videographer, and is also heavily involved in Competitive Fighting Games. IG: jeremyko95 #JeremyKolodziejski #Review #Newsletter #Casablanca #Love

David Cronenberg's 1986 remake of The Fly has undoubtedly seated itself firmly amongst the classic horror films of the 80’s. Among contemporaries like, The Thing, Reanimator , and Evil Dead , The Fly , used practical effects to shock its viewers with gruesome visuals. The Fly sets itself apart, however; underneath Cronenberg’s horrific portrayal of a man slowly and horrifically transforming into a monstrous man-fly, lays a genuinely touching love story. The tragic tale is old as time: boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, and girl watches boy’s fingernails and ears fall off as he mutates into an unsightly abomination. Erm...let me explain. From the film’s very first scene, Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis’s characters are on screen together. For the entirety of its runtime, the two are rarely apart. Davis plays Veronica Quaife, a reporter for a scientific journal that has attended a conference in search of a new story. In the opening moments of the film, she’s found chatting with Goldblum’s Seth Brundle, a somewhat quirky physicist that breathlessly explains how he believes he is on the edge of a discovery that will change the world, as they know it. Brundle is clearly flirting here, attempting to use his scientific prowess as a way to earn Veronica’s attention. While she seems initially tentative about Brundle’s somewhat awkward advances, she eventually agrees to see what he’s got to show. The pair’s relationship begins to bud from the moment they set off from the conference together. Brundle clearly inhabits the role of the socially scientist, with every word uttered in Veronica’s presence filled with a nervous energy. His idea of flirting ranges from regaling Veronica with tales of how he becomes motion sick at even the slightest of speeds, to wordlessly serenading her via piano as soon as they arrive at the apartment. Veronica seems initially cautious, clearly unable to take Brundle’s goofball persona seriously, but still holds out hope that she can find a story. Cronenberg builds the tension of an uneasy pair divided in their intentions, with Brundle hoping to impress, and Veronica just attempting to do her job. The two eventually agree to work together, as Veronica is amazed that Brundle’s teleporter actually works and she immediately hopes to publish a story on the discovery. Brundle, however, pleads with Veronica to hold off until he can perfect the machine and successfully teleport living subjects. The two agree to an exclusive book deal on their second awkward date (over burgers at a diner). The first act of the film works quickly to establish a connection between the two, with the breezy pacing typical to 80’s horror, swiftly moving through the initial phases of courtship. As they work together, we see that Brundle fills the caricature of the unsocialized physicist, with only the company of his two baboons and a closet full of identical outfits. After a failed attempt to teleport to one of the baboons, Brundle himself admits that his invention cannot move living specimens because it lacks a fundamental understanding of the flesh. He too, admits that he similarly lacks this understanding, and proposes that he must learn himself in order to complete his machine. It’s a somewhat corny yet endearing metaphor to signify how Brundle is able to achieve his eureka moment by building a relationship with Veronica. Seth and Veronica share a simultaneous scientific and emotional breakthrough, as Brundle is successful in his next attempt at teleporting a living specimen. As the two celebrate this miraculous discovery, Veronica suggests that they take off on a vacation together. Brundle meets this reaction with surprise, as the once professional relationship has now fully transformed into a romantic affair. He is elated at this realization, at once filled with energy and excitement for both the success of his life’s work and his newfound love. The film’s rapid pacing does not allow the romance to persist for long, however; just as the two begin to celebrate, the story begins to veer towards tragedy. Veronica has been harassed by a creepy former lover, (and current editor), who threatens to publish Brundle’s story against her will. In an effort to stop him, she hastily leaves Seth’s apartment just as the champagne is uncorked. Seth, now alone with a bottle and Chinese food for two, is distraught that his newfound lover has run off to see another man. It is his drunken paranoia that leads him to brazenly test his teleporter on himself. He does so without truly understanding if his invention is safe, and is too blinded by jealousy to stop himself. This, of course, is when the transformation begins, after Brundle’s DNA is merged with that of a fly. The transformation changes Brundle both physically and mentally, as the awkward, mild mannered Brundle that Veronica originally fell for gives way to a manic, arrogant Brundlefly. From the first kiss they share post-teleportation, Veronica seems hesitant, as if she can tell that something has changed. The changes come swiftly as Brundle’s mutations manifest, as he finds himself with seemingly unlimited strength and stamina. But the same mutations that allow him to perform an Olympic gymnastics display also cause him to speak like a coke-addled maniac as he downs sugar at an alarming rate. Even before his physical mutations manifest, Seth pushes Veronica away with his deranged ramblings. He believes that teleporting himself has unlocked his true potential, but in reality it has changed everything that brought he and Veronica together. Despite his changes, Veronica refuses to abandon Seth. Even as he tries to force her to teleport against her will, she cannot help but worry for her lover. Surging with lust and power, Seth quickly turns from Veronica to find someone who WILL teleport. He picks up a floozy from a local bar that he then attempts to convince to teleport after a night of sex. Even after this betrayal, Veronica shows only concern that Seth is sick and desperately needs help. It’s here that Cronenberg’s use of gore, (now commonly referred to as body horror), is so effective. Seth’s change is gradual at first, with tiny insect like hairs sprouting from his back and pockmarks appearing on his face. As his skin starts to ooze secretions and his fingernails begin to shed, Brundle realizes that something has gone wrong and reaches out to Veronica for help. She returns to a trashed apartment inhabited by a severely mutated Brundle. His skin now oozes with broken pustules, his hair is falling out, and he can only walk with the support of canes. At this point, Brundle is becoming a monster. Despite his ghastly appearance, Veronica stays by his side. She does not respond to his mutated appearance with fear or resentment, instead embracing him in sympathy as he begs for help. She is tearful and terrified for her lover’s safety. Such a tragedy is a tale that can mirror real life romance. Awkward courtship, a deeply romantic honeymoon phase, and a tragic turn, marred both by Brundle’s unflinching commitment to his work that is fueled by hubris. His reason for pushing on to test the machine on himself stemmed from the jealousy he felt, his vulnerable state leading him to make a rash decision. Then, as his work consumed him and his genetic affliction took over, he only pushed his love away, becoming blind to the passion they once had. Veronica, simultaneously, is the scorned lover that cares too deeply to turn away. She is too committed to Seth to abandon him even when he threatens and betrays her. Even as his physical form mutates and decays, she wants only to help him, rather than turning her back on him out of fear or anger. She sees a flawed, scared, desperate man that she loved. Much like the tragedy of Frankenstein or Swamp Thing , Cronenberg has created a monster movie that evokes pathos for its unfortunate characters. He breaks the mold of monster cinema by creating a relationship that is sweet and pure, before quickly destroying it with unfortunate circumstance. Though Seth’s human-fly hybrid monster is grotesque and unsightly, he demonstrates care for Veronica until the bitter end. He is desperate and afraid, yet realizes that he will eventually lose control and cannot bare the thought of hurting his lover. He struggles against the fly portion of his DNA, the part that schemes to use the teleporter to fuse with Veronica and become more human. As his mutations rapidly progress, he becomes unrecognizable from his human self, yet moments of humanity continue to shine through. This is never more apparent than in the final moments of the film, where after a confrontation with the fully mutated Brundlefly, Veronica stands over what once was her lover with a shotgun. She is emotionally devastated; even as she looks down at the horrific monster crawling to her feet, she cannot bring herself to pull the trigger. She still holds a semblance of love for Brundle, and is too distraught to finish him off. In his final show of humanity, it’s Brundle that helps Veronica raise the gun to his head and end his misery. The effectiveness of Seth and Veronica’s love story is what makes these final moments so resonant, as the film’s finale allows the viewer to become fully empathetic to the lovers’ tragedy. Their fleeting but sweet romance is destroyed almost as soon as it began; yet the pair never gives up on each other. Cronenberg has created a pitiful monster with the Brundlefly, one that despite becoming completely grotesque still evokes some amount of sympathy rather than fear or disgust. Jack Kolodziejski Jack makes drugs for a living, but not necessarily the fun kind. He enjoys international travel and discussing music, movies, and games in excruciating detail. #JackKolodziejski #Newsletter #TheFly #Brundlefly #Review #JeffGoldblum #GeenaDavis

Nacho Vigalondo has distinguished himself as a writer/director powerhouse, generating original content that always seems to supersede the rules of the chosen genre. Time Crimes is a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful film that uses time-travel and sci-fi thriller tropes to communicate a heavily horror-esque thriller through a noir lens. Extraterrestrial was received to wide acclaim, a sci-fi comedy/romance so in line with the rules of those genres, it earned him the title of, “the Woody Allen of Sci-fi.” Vigalondo's latest work, Colossal , is no exception. A pseudo-romantic-comedy with Asian monster-movie influence, proving to be a heavy-handed metaphor-driven narrative; Colossal is, for lack of a better or more original term, an instant classic entered into all those genres. The story follows Gloria, (Anne Hathaway), a drunk screw-up who has screwed up one screw too many. Her boyfriend Tim, (Dan Stevens), leaves her after a night of absent debauchery, packing her bags for her, and after a little belittling, sends her on her way. With no job, no money and no real friends, Gloria returns to her hometown and squats in her parents old empty house. Almost immediately, she bumps into Oscar, (Jason Sudeikis), a childhood friend who she hasn't seen since she escaped the confines of her small, Upstate New York town years ago. While Gloria faces her addiction, she begins to realize that her actions while drunk are manifesting into a giant monster on the other side of the world, laying waste to the buildings and citizens of Seoul, her every move and gesture mimicked with destructive consequences. Colossal is saying a lot of things. Self-destruction is just that: we destroy ourselves through our misguided actions and inability (or reluctance) to accept the fact that we may be very fucked up. Our addictions are the manifestations of our problems; left unchecked, they will only lead to more problems for others and ourselves, regardless of whether we ever look down to see them. The entitlements we believe to be ours through our actions are often misplaced misdirection from our weak understanding of others and an inability to admit that we sometimes don't fully have it together. Toxic relationships can burrow into us, transforming our ideals and morals, until we become a monstrous interpretation of ourselves. Internet culture – and call-out culture, more specifically – is a rising, self-made divide between friends, family and society as a whole. Pabst Blue Ribbon is best enjoyed from a bottle, not a can. With the obvious metaphor on the table, I'll say that Colossal does its job as a comedy/monster film quite well, at least for the first half of the film. The situations, however extraordinary, are believable, and the reactions from its characters, however self-serving, make sense in the grand scheme of what the film is trying to say. To speak more to that, I will unfortunately have to walk into Spoiler Valley. But if you are interested in seeing this flick and really getting your money’s worth, I recommend stopping here, checking it out, and coming back. Cool? Cool. When Gloria enters Oscar's world, one of small town humbleness, loves lost and good friends to drink the night away with, we the audience learn and interpret information as she does. Oscar inherited his father's local bar and he seems content with his place in the world, even though he lacks the money or determination to finish refurnishing it. His friends, Garth (Tim Blake Nelson) and Joel (Austin Stowell), are chipper and charming. Oscar is happy Gloria is back in town and wants to help her, offering companionship, a TV, furniture and even a job at his bar to help her get by while she figures things out. When Oscar learns of Gloria's connection to the monster ransacking South Korea, he treats it with lightheartedness and a fun sensibility. It's only at the twist in the story that we start to see his true motivations and personality come through. Once Oscar realizes that he himself can also have an avatar in Seoul - when in a specific place at a specific time - he begins to show a more selfish side. This, of course, is layered within the realization that Gloria has chosen to have relations with his friend, Joel, instead of him. Her choice to seek comfort – in the midst of a self-imposed and long overdue sobriety – in the arms of someone he deems lesser-than, throws him into a breakdown; all of his kind and generous demeanor evaporates, revealing a self-hating, manipulative, vengeful dick. This revelation redefines his past actions, turning his kindness towards Gloria's situation into baiting and gaslighting, and his friendship with Garth and Joel into that of a delusion superior. He has surrounded himself with two people he can control and manipulate, be it with information for a sort of social blackmail or the belief of a senior-level of intellect. Gloria accomplishes her goal of “fixing” herself just as Oscar’s situation grows more exciting. He has always felt small and secretly hated Gloria for escaping their town, jealous of her success. Oscar immediately begins using his newfound ability, not only to make himself feel better, but to bully Gloria into staying. And in her fragile, newly recovered state, her options seem very limited. Reenter ex-boyfriend, Tim. Tim's arrival strikes a major chord for Gloria. Now that she has accepted her wrongdoings and corrected her course, she realizes that Tim is nothing more than a self-obsessed weasel, wanting only to fix Gloria to make his life easier. Tim is caught in the battle of wits between Gloria and Oscar, and this situation delivers one of the best scenes of film: Oscar attempting to prove his male-superiority to Tim (and Gloria) by lighting a gigantic firework in the middle of his bar, all the while explaining the history of the firework and why it is so special; a mirror of his own delusion of self-respect. Oscar claims that even though he has done this, the most irrational thing one can do in the bar, Gloria still won't go with Tim. She'll stay right there and work at his bar. Of course, this pissing contest pushes Gloria over the edge, forcing her to see that this childhood friend of hers is indeed damaged far beyond the revelations of the past few days, and she takes action to bring an end to his self-imposed control over her. But perhaps even more interesting than the character-driven metaphors at play throughout Colossal , are its subtle references to how we as a people consume news and information, and how we react. Wi-Fi and cell phones are consistently cited, by dialogue or within the scene, and within the trappings of every moment dealing with the horrible events occurring in Seoul, the screen is king, town crier and court jester. The “attacks” in Seoul are, of course, heavily publicized, and multi-media is used as a tool to inform both the audience and the characters of what is happening. This is an obvious way to go about such a task. But there are many quotes in the film that pay direct attention to how the masses are interpreting this information that lends to the idea that as a culture, we have become disconnected through our over-connectivity. And even further, we have a reference to a screen, used as a device to heighten the tension between our characters that states, “If you leave it like that, it will get warped.” Oscar's own inability to realize the consequences of his spontaneous actions are indicative of the trolling culture that has grabbed this nation's moral compass by the throat. We even have the pivotal turn of his character centered on his disdain for the reaction of a “meme-esque” video that belittles one of the monsters, therefore belittling him. Gloria states at one point that because the tragedy is befalling South Korea, soon people won't care. We hear cheers emanating not only from the live-feed on cell phones streaming the streets of Seoul, but from the apartments near the playground where our hero and villain manifest the actions of the monsters being broadcast worldwide, like some kind of over-dramatic wrestling match. There are implications of a certain divide between the understanding of the plight of foreign countries on the other side of the globe that a bunch of white Americans could care less about, let alone genuinely understand, but the point directs firmly back to the initial theme of the film: toxicity and its ability, by nature, to disrupt progress. Colossal is just one more amazing film released this year dealing with the troubles of the individual and the repercussions they can have on the world at large when gone unchecked. From the weariness of trying to help in Logan , to the racial undertones that continue to permeate even our closest relations in Get Out , to the loud roaring return of hope and compassion in Wonder Woman , the film industry is producing stories that not only entertain, but seek to inspire and uplift audiences through characterization and cleverly mapped metaphors. Colossal is an excellent example of turning our call-out lens inward and fixing what we find. Mike Burdge Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th . #Newsletter #Review #Colossal #June2017 #MikeBurdge #AnneHathaway #Kaiju

I'm a sucker for musicals; it's a well-known fact about me among my film-watching peers. You want to hear someone defend Les Miserables at length? Or talk about how Moulin Rouge taught an entire generation (and even previous ones) to loosen up and fall in love with the outdated medium? Or how Singin' in the Rain can change the way even the most scholarly of film critics reacts to tone and content? Do you want a man who will, till his dying breath, shout the merits of Pippin , West Side Story, The Producers, On the Town, Doctor Horrible, Cabaret, An American in Paris, Newsies and Little Shop of Horrors , not to mention every film from the golden age of Disney animation? I'm that man. I'll even throw in some Grease and Hairspray love for free. And God help you if we disagree on the longevity of modern classics like Frozen and La La Land . Shit will get real. Musicals get me going. The chords stick just as hard as a clever line of dialogue or perfectly built up (and executed) third act. The performances are grander, the directing more precise, the sets livelier, the editing a feat to behold and the music... well, the music is its own joyous work of art to enjoy. Context just makes the content sweeter. But there are more ways than one to translate the rules of the musical to the stage or big screen, with equal or double effect. There are plenty of great soundtracks to films that are just as recognizable as the films are themselves: from Footloose to Reservoir Dogs , and Trainspotting to High Fidelity . A great keynote in those films however, is the use of diegetic music (where the characters in the film are aware of the song we, the audience, are also hearing). This adds a contextual layer to the events, as well as a meta experience that transcends the viewing of light projected onto a screen, to a wholly realized, subversive moment of anti-realism. We watch these characters react to, and share their experience of, the very sounds that we are usually solely privy to as spectators. The fourth wall is broken slightly, and we are invited to react accordingly, whether it be in disgust of an ear being removed from a police officer, a man bemoaning his love life or Kevin Bacon being Kevin Bacon in a warehouse. The content of the story is always present, moving as the scene unfolds, but the context suddenly shifts, as we are brought a tiny bit closer to the experience of the characters we are watching. Everybody loves music, so there's no wonder why music would bring us closer to the estranged characters we are learning more about. Edgar Wright is no stranger to the gem that is musical inclusion within a film's narrative. Many of his character's motivations are highlighted, if not directly influenced by, songs that appear diegetically within the story. Hell, this isn't even his first time stepping up to bat to create a new form of musical in film. He accomplished that with varying degrees of success with 2011's, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World , where our main character was a lovelorn bassist, that takes on the past loves of his new boo a la the rules of video games and comic books, with a load of 90's indie rock padding. But in his latest work, Baby Driver , Wright has tapped into the new wave of soundtrack driven narratives, and launches the musical genre into a thrilling spectacle with the aid of his fine directing choices, unbridled love for his characters, and an unparalleled editing palette. While Baby Driver has plenty to offer its audience – wild practical stunt work, jaw dropping performances from Jon Hamm and Jamie Foxx, sharp as razors dialogue – what’s most impressive is its use of music as both device and emotional elevator, treating all the tracks Baby, (or any other character) chooses to play, as a symbol not only for where they stand emotionally, but also as a mode of setting the tone events about to unfold. This is the very constructive tissue of musical playwriting: having a character's most intimate feelings and thoughts expressed through an outburst or uproar of enthusiasm or melancholy. Our main character's condition (tinnitus) requires him to listen to music constantly to drown out the ever-ringing pitch in his ears, a melody to his ailment, so to speak. But this cure also becomes a self-imposed crutch, as we quickly learn that Baby is both fantastic at operating to the beats of his self-scored soundtrack, and also quite unable operate without it. Baby needs music to be able to function properly, a lack of rhythm becoming his personal kryptonite. While in his normal life, music is used to connect with his foster father, or for starting flirty conversations with a certain doe-eyed waitress. On the job however, music is a different matter entirely. Baby has literally scored the robberies and car chases he participates in down to the minute, and his ability to complete these tasks to his utmost, relies on the timing and mood of his chosen songs. Music is his weapon and he is defenseless without it. Baby takes this weapon one step further, relying on it as an emotional crutch for dealing with people or stressful situations or memories. He uses his earbuds - and a vast collection of sunglasses for that matter – to distance himself from the criminal world around him, blocking out any attempts to connect, whether they be friendly or otherwise. His choice to not talk frequently, or often speak briefly and to the point if need be, is another layer of armor he adds to his persona when dealing with people who are every amount deadlier than he could ever be. He also uses music as a coping mechanism to deal with any amount of shame or fear he may have for his currently occupation, remixing threats and compliments alike into catchy, lo-fi tracks he then records onto cassette tapes, and places alongside his most treasured possession: a recording of his mom singing, the only vestige he owns of her besides his own memories. Taking all of this into consideration, it makes sense how music would inform Baby's behavior and the decisions he makes when listening to various tracks. Whether it's dancing down the street on a coffee run, making a loved one their favorite sandwich, sharing a personal tune with a new friend at the laundromat, or evading police helicopters on the freeways of Atlanta, Baby exudes the mood of the chosen song, enabling him to go from cheesy line-spitting Motown goodness, to ride or die rock n’ roll sensibilities with a click of the skip bottom. Much like so many musicals, the music of the moment invades every aspect of Baby's world, so of course it would invade our experience of watching his story unfold. You don't necessarily need characters bursting out lyrics or breaking into dance numbers (which you do get a bit of in this film, if I may say), to be enamored with the thrill of what a musical can do. You need a good beat and someone in love. It's all smooth riding from there. Music can be exhilarating, motivating or debilitating, but one thing we can all agree on is that it is most certainly always an escape. Luckily for us, Baby isn't the only one willing to give themselves over to the power of the meta-musical on display. Debora gets a great entrance singing along to “B-A-B-Y” by Carla Thomas, the perfect choice to snag our hero's attention. Doc practically dances out an elaborate robbery sketch, while unloading an immense amount of exposition on our characters and their situations, culminating in his own holler of pride for how damn good he is. Bats gets a great moment to shine to a rendition of The Champ's, “Tequila” (here “TaKillYa” by Vinnie Maniscalco), during a bombastic shoot-out with undercover cops, and even Darling gets a metaphor-driven sing-along scene to “Nowhere to Run,” by Martha Reeves & The Vandellas, after Baby has found himself in way more over his head than he is used to. But it's Buddy who gets the greatest moment alongside the running trope of diagetic music throughout the film. If Debora is Baby's replacement for the dream of his mother, (which I assure you she is), then Buddy is the dream of his abusive father, even if Baby doesn't realize it at first. That honor up front goes to Bats, (but we'll get into that a bit later). At first glance, Buddy is a very supportive guy to Baby. He defends him, as does Doc, (another father figure in his own way throughout the story), from the bullies of the criminal underworld. Buddy even shares the sweetest of moments with Baby, listening, one earbud each, to one of Baby's favorite songs, “Brighton Rock” by Queen, telling him about his days boosting cars and blasting music as he sped away in his stolen prizes. He even gives Baby the benefit of the doubt when it seems like he may be up to something that could jeopardize the heist, or worse, incriminate all those a part of it. It's only through the act of eliminating Bats - in a moment echoing the accident that took out his own father - that Baby makes the mistake of turning this father figure against him. Buddy is much smarter and more cunning then he lets on, and when he is placed in the position of antagonist to Baby, whom he blames for his love’s demise, he knows just which cards to play. Buddy uses both Debora and his affinity for music against Baby, first by blasting “Brighton Rock” while trying to murder him in the film's climactic set piece, (which ends in a parking garage of all places), and then by threatening to take away the one thing he loves most, which he follows by shooting off bullets directly next to both of Baby’s ears, robbing him of his hearing, if only temporarily, while he moves next to kill Debora right in front of him. His understanding of what motivates Baby becomes the biggest threat to our lover's escape. Baby's obsession with music sometimes acts as his shield from the outside world, other times acting as his most valuable weapon for escape and self-preservation. He uses it to connect with people, but also to distance himself from the hard truth: that he is just as much a criminal as the scum hired to work alongside him. At the end of the day, Edgar Wright has presented a thrilling action-musical that forces our protagonist to reevaluate his relationship to music, and maybe, help him get that happy ending with the girl of his dreams, a road he's never seen, and a song or two that is music to all of our ears. Mike Burdge Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th. #August2017 #Newsletter #Articles #BabyDriver #MikeBurdge #EdgarWright #Musicals #Cars #JonHamm

Love is an insurmountable constant when it comes to movie magic. The love the audience shares for the characters, the love those characters show for each other, the love the artist’s hands play in sculpting the subtle and heavy-handed ways their story unfolds. Many of the greatest films of all time are stories about love, whether that love is of the romantic kind, obsessive, friendly or other varieties. As a universally understood emotion and state of mind, love communicates in far simpler terms, and it informs an otherwise almost indescribable feeling that can make or break a character or situation. In James Whale’s The Bride of Frankenstein , (based on Mary Shelley’s magnificent story), our once villainous and misunderstood Monster, is shown the keys to the kingdom of humanity and self, having experienced curiosity, fear, anger and hate in the film’s predecessor, Frankenstein . In this next chapter, he is shown kindness, acceptance and friendship, which begins to give this creature from the other world a sense of self-worth and understanding of what is most important in life: finding someone you can be alive with. While this revelation takes place in our Monster’s storyline, Dr. Victor Frankenstein, the Monster’s obsessive creator, is going through an awakening of his own. Having survived a near death encounter with his abomination, Frankenstein is willing to finally abandon his maddening need to create life from death in return for a happy life with his wife, Elizabeth. He has decided to exchange one need of creating life for another. It’s a beautiful sentiment, paralleled with the Monster’s meeting with a gentle old blind man, who begins to teach the tortured soul about trust, language, kindness and the simpler things in life, for which we should never take for granted. All of this comes crashing down however, as a man from Dr. Frankenstein’s past returns to enlist the ex-mad scientist into one of his many latest experiments set to change the roles of man and God. When Dr. Septimus Pretorius makes his reappearance into Frankenstein’s life, it is at a time of self-examination for our loony doc, who has no intention of returning to the methods and trials that have placed not only his life, but also the lives of all the villagers in his nearby town, in great mortal peril. While unwilling to return to his old pursuits, Frankenstein truly has no idea where his life should go from here, besides spending it with Elizabeth and attempting to find peace after such tragedies. But Pretorius is cunning and charming in the ways we normally reserve for snakes or other perilously slick creatures of wit and magnetism. As he tempts Frankenstein more and more, we see the mind of a true scientist behind his eyes; he is utterly incapable of not wanting to see a hypothesis through to its completion. Likewise, our now beloved Monster’s new life of peace and harmony is cut short by the arrival of two hunters, (whose eyes work well enough to see that he is in fact the Monster that has laid waste to their village over the past events). The Monster fights back, losing his newfound friend in the process, and the fight leaves him, yet again, roaming the countryside alone and in fear of the hunters following directly behind him. Where the kind words and deeds of the old blind man have made him more man than monster, they have also weakened his resilience to the trickery of those who would use his strength and intimidating features for their own means. And this is exactly what Pretorius does when he encounters the Monster. Offering him under the guise of equality, food and drink, Pretorius uses the newfound knowledge of love and friendship, to ensnare the Monster into helping him convince (or force) Dr. Frankenstein into completing his task of creating life. As far as the Monster is aware, it is all to create a female companion for him, a friend like him, who will never leave him or be afraid of him, because they will be the same. Pretorius convinces the Monster to kidnap Elizabeth and hold her hostage in an unknown location, forcing Frankenstein to work alongside Pretorius to bring this new bride to life. And when Pretorius realizes his victory, just as Frankenstein himself is reinvigorated with the lustful satisfaction that can only come from realizing a long sought after dream, the Monster presents himself to his new Bride, who in turn, screams and cowers in fear at the mere sight of him. Not to be outdone, the Monster approaches again, tenderly, holding the newborn woman’s hand in an attempt to show her that they are the same and have nothing to fear from one another. But her fear lies deeper and more simply, that of general fright and confusion, an unwillingness to cooperate, either by choice or mere misunderstanding. Whether any of the people present in the room are aware of it, another hypothesis has been brought to fruition, only to be knocked down by the most common of laws: you cannot construct love. Just as manners and speech could not be ingrained in the Monster at his birth, neither can one so new to the world be expected to truly trust and love a stranger. The Bride’s existence was simply a tool by which Frankenstein and Pretorius could feel like Gods, larger and more powerful than the common man, and the Monster sought to use her to fill the void he had only just recently learned even existed. No one wanted the Bride to be just the Bride, herself, her own being. Perhaps that was the fear she felt just moments after her own birth: the fear of the unknown, in a state of not even knowing what differences could possibly be, let alone what they may represent. In the end, the Monster presents his final acts of love: demanding Frankenstein and Elizabeth flee and be happy, and that he, Pretorius and the Bride, embrace death together, a place of unknown destination, a place where creation and culmination, success and failure, can be one and the same, where there is no need to prove yourself better or more powerful than those surrounding you, a place where no one will fear you, hurt you, frighten you, or betray you. A place where they belong. Mike Burdge Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th. #Newsletter #Reviews #TheBrideofFrankenstein #MikeBurdge #Love #BeaconHorrorShow3

I love “Top Lists.” It may be the opposite of what most film critics and film lovers will say - demeaning the value of some truly great works in vain of others, based entirely on personal opinion, experience and knowledge - just to get to write a little more about the films that made life worth everything over the past year. Yeah, I love that. However, like the act of watching movies itself, it’s hard to know when to stop making your list. I normally never stay at Top 5’s or Top 10’s, but since there’s a 16 in the name, there ya go. “Well, why not a 20??” you may ask then? Don’t push it. I will say this for 2016: most people seemed to not like it. I didn’t like it too much, but I have to admit I personally have had a great year. I’ve built, I’ve loved, I’ve gained a new family in my friends here at Story Screen, and I’m just getting started. WE'RE just getting started. Of course, obvious things made the year quite rough, but if you were a cinephile, 2016 was a damn good year for movies. Almost too good. There are tons of movies that did not make this list that are very much worth your time. You can find a list of those at the bottom of this article. I hope you enjoy them just as much as I did, maybe even a bit more. And of course, if something isn’t on the list and you JUST CAN’T BELIEVE IT, please let me know about it in the comments section so I can watch it, ya big jerk! Unless it’s Batman v Superman . Then I judge you and I judge your motivations. 16. Kubo and the Two Strings Everything you can look for in a good ol’ adventure kid’s movie is firmly on display in Kubo. A big movie came out recently that started getting people saying, “They don’t make ‘em like that anymore!” That’s true for Kubo. A fun kid’s movie with deep themes and heart-pounding action, a mythology that feels real, and a lesson in love and confidence that everyone can benefit from. I cannot wait to watch this movie again and again and again. 15. Tickled Probably one of my most anticipated movies of 2016 was the rumored “Competitive Endurance Tickling Documentary,” a lot of my peers were talking about. No one seemed to know if it was real or fake or a combination of the two? But I’m here to tell you it is 100% real, and crazy and silly and hilarious and haunting and dark and twisted and fucking brilliant. A breadcrumb following nail biter that deepens tension with such surgical precision it’s hard to remember that this is all actually happening. It just may also have one of the greatest final scenes in a documentary ever. Watch it. 14. Hush In a great year for movies, no genre was represented more in terms of quality and originality than Horror, and Hush takes one of the most played out sub-genres, the home invasion, and creates a dazzling new experience by following the rules when it should, and breaking the rules when it can. Unfortunately, like another horror film higher on my list, it’s hard for me to talk about anything pertaining to Hush without giving away the very thing that makes it so special and engaging: what the hell is going to happen next? So I will leave you with simply this: in a genre that is filled to the brim with disposable, stupid victims, Hush transcends cliché by making every single character - from our victims to our hero to our villain - fully capable and competent people, and that just makes it all the scarier for all the right reasons. 13. Krisha Dario Argento would be proud. If you know what that means, you don’t need to read anymore of this. Go watch the damn movie, you sicko. But for the rest of you out there, Krisha is a reality-bending gem that is as hard to watch as it is deeply missed when it ends. Using members of his real family, newcomer director Trey Edward Shults, (awesome name, dude), paints the portrait of an uncomfortable family Thanksgiving and the dark things we carry that we wish we could just leave in the past if it wasn’t for their cruel, tight grip around our necks. It is a rollercoaster of emotion and a masterpiece of filmmaking. I am very excited to see what else Shults has up his sleeve. 12. In a Valley of a Violence An absolute treat of a surprise, this flick knows what the fuck it is doing. As an homage piece to the older styles of filmmaking of the spaghetti westerns, it works. As a 21st century revenge-western, it works. As a John Travolta movie, surprise, it works. With a very small cast of recognizables, the film walks at its own pace, never falling into the trappings of most homage attempts, and coming out looking like a thief. Director Ti West shakes off the horror tropes (mostly) for a beautiful, innocent good ol’ violent romp through the deserts of the Old West, and delivers one of the most fun times I’ve had watching a movie this year. 11. Joshy While not a perfect film, Joshy executes what it sets out to do perfectly. With an insanely misleading ad campaign that makes it look like The League: The Movie (ouch), Joshy is one of the most touching films and by far the funniest on this list. The actors are all charming, the story is basic enough and the quality in which it was made mirrors the tenacity of its characters. For anyone who hurts, this movie would like to buy you a beer. 10. Hunt for the Wilderpeople Complain all you want about having to wait for another Edgar Wright movie. We’re all chillin’ over here with Taika Waititi and having a blast. A movie that is overflowing with comedy, drama and heart, it is a genuine marvel to watch the balancing act both the director and the actors are performing right before your eyes. It is beautiful and fun and loving. It is majestical. 9. High-Rise High-Rise is definitely not for everyone. But it should be. With breathtaking designs and phenomenal performances, not to mention a near-perfect score, the film can seem like an endurance test at times, and that adds to the tension and confusion it breeds. A look at the dangers of too much comfort, from an era that was defined by the modernization of convenience, High-Rise is one of those movies you’ll either love or hate, but you’ll think about regardless for a long, long time. And trust me, it’s going to be considered a neo-classic in twenty years, just like 2013’s Snowpiercer . 8. The Fits The story and themes at the heart of this movie are enough to entertain, but it is the sheer confidence on display from first time director Anna Rose Holmer that is the highlight of this wild ride, at times heartwarming and encouraging, and other times terrifying to an almost otherworldly level. There is a true artist at play behind every shot of the film, behind every spoken word and beyond every cut. Isolation is the name of the game when you’re a young teenaged girl, and The Fits demonstrates that terror and anxiety with a naturalistic craft that will shock you with its believability. 7. The Lobster The philosophy of love and relationships. The selfish need we all have, but can never properly speak about. The deception that togetherness is better, that loneliness is failing and that everyone is keeping score. The unavoidable feeling that love, by its very natural purpose, will always be artificial. The Lobster has a lot it wants to discuss with you, and fortunately for you, it’s got tons of laughs and heartbreak to mix things up a bit. Somebody give Rachel Weisz a high-five for me, please? 6. Green Room Green Room is a miserable movie. It’s angry and violent. I’m fairly certain it has a drinking problem. And it definitely wouldn’t like your punk-ass if you ever met. As far as crowd-pleasing movies go this year, Green Room takes the Alt-Right cake. A healthy follow-up to the directors previous go, Blue Ruin , the film is a 101 lesson in constructing and deconstructing tension with relief and terror. While more of a thriller than a horror, you can still bet your bottoms that after watching Green Room you won’t be looking at a machete the same way anytime soon. 5. Blue Jay Ho, boy. What a movie. Blue Jay is magic. The style in which the filmmakers chose to approach telling this tale of two old lovers reconnecting over the course of a single night is a controversial one. The mumblecore black and white small movies of the early 2000’s are gone, and for good reason. Many of them didn’t have the longevity needed to transcend the ironies of the time they took place. Many of the film’s own condescension becomes laughable when removed from the immediate now. (Just look at Garden State . LOOK AT IT!) But Blue Jay effortlessly rises above it all and tells the story of a type of connection each and every one of us has felt and know deeply, not because we learned it once but because we continue to learn it everyday. 4. La La Land I’m a huge sucker for musicals. I fall for them. And this movie is excitingly not disappointing. There is so much at play, and the film successfully juggles many, many different ideas and themes and general reasons for it to exist. Is it a musical? Is it an homage? Is it a critique of modern love? Is it a pep talk to the ones out there who dare to follow their dreams? Is that pep talk a positive or negative one? The outlandish idea that you could make a musical in 2016 that had the secret to enjoying the movie engrained within the dialogue and themes and make it successful? Especially when the secret to its success and your enjoyment of it is to let go of your cynicism and join them in a fantasy that worships hope and joy and creativity? It’s an insane undertaking. Now, before you get all riled up, I’m not saying that if you didn’t enjoy La La Land that makes you overly cynical. I’m saying that being overly cynical is probably why most people won’t. Which is sad because it really is such a joyful film, filled with charm and love and a level of devotion that is normally not seen in film these days. And that is not going overlooked, as the film continues to make a mess of what we think musicals can be. 3. Moonlight Across the board, Moonlight is a triumph. While many movies on my list this year touched me, nothing had the impact of the third act of Moonlight . It is so sweet and so vulnerable, as if you could actually unknowingly hurt it as a viewer at any time. The attention to visuals of loneliness and the hard realizations we need to accept and instill in others isn’t just breathtaking, it’s like being stuck underwater. When people talk about certain films as experiences, they are talking about movies like Moonlight . It is a deeply human coming-of-age story that has never been told, and is now available to help heal the world, one screen at a time. 2. The Invitation It’s quite ironic that The Invitation would center around a dinner party, as the process in which it slowly reveals information, either lifesaving or deadly, works a lot like the courses of a meal. It’s very enjoyable and misleadingly straightforward, and it’s right up there with Green Room on two fronts: expert level tension building, and crowd-pleasing goodness. This is a movie that will shut your friends up. And, like Hush , it’s very difficult to discuss what I love about the film without ruining the whole thing for you. The characters feel real; their relationships seem honest and lived-in, and John Carroll Lynch is still the scariest looking motherfucker in the world, and this movie knows that’s how we feel. If a film is like a dance partner to its audience, The Invitation takes the lead immediately and you won’t even realize you’ve stopped spinning until long after the music has faded. 1. Swiss Army Man Not often do you come across a film like Swiss Army Man . It’s one of those experiences that sticks with you, from the first time it grabs you, to all the times you may revisit it for the rest of your life, either in memory or reviewing. The film functions on so many levels it's hard to know where to start, or whether some are even worth discussing. Like the obstacles our two heroes face, the metaphors and themes within this film force us to examine what it means to be a human being, and to hopefully overcome these truths, changed for the better. It’s become a staple of mine. I quote it often. I whistle the music. Swiss Army Man is an instant classic, timeless and preserved, and people will be enjoying it just as much as I do, long after I’ve become a farting corpse myself. Honorable Mentions (seriously, what a year!!): The Neon Demon, The Nice Guys, Lo and Behold: Reveries of the Connected World, Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping, The VVitch, Captain America: Civil War, Frank and Lola, Manchester By the Sea, Zootopia, Elvis and Nixon, The Shallows, De Palma, Café Society, Don’t Think Twice, Hail, Caesar!, Blair Witch, The Autopsy of Jane Doe, Hell or High Water and I Am Not A Serial Killer. Mike Burdge Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th . #2016 #Newsletter #Articles #MikeBurdge #Top16

All throughout November and December, Story Screen is giving thanks to those cinematic stories that have always been there for us – whether through film, TV or even specific persons (on, behind or in front of the silver screen). These are the works we cannot help but appreciate, the ones that molded us, guided us, and stuck with us through good times and bad. These are the ones that deserve our personal thanks. Colin Farrell has had one hell of a career: from blasting out of nowhere, to shamelessly being in just about every movie between 2002 and 2003, to being a punch line, getting caught up in a sex tape scandal, (for which he is credited as, “Director” on IMDb. Sure!), to becoming one of the most commanding and daring actors working on both big and small screen Hollywood today. As many of my oldest friends and cohorts will attest, I've been a die hard Farrell Fan for a long time, almost since the beginning. I have always felt that he had a certain electricity that didn't come standard in most actors of his quality, (meaning good looking but still a bad boy), able to headline major blockbuster events or play quiet side characters with a secret or two. As an actor, he's often a loose cannon, practically vibrating with unpredictability and seemingly ready to pop at the light of a cigarette or the sip of a drink. And his hair. His goddamn hair. So, if you're into this as much as I am, I'd like to discuss some (not all, mind you), of Colin Farrell's credits over his nearly 20 year career, so that we can understand how this rising star finally ascended. The Birth Known for his turbulent upbringing and wild lash outs as a teenager – Farrell was expelled from school at age 17 for punching a supervisor – the rascally Irishman got his start in show business teaching line-dancing and auditioning for a boy band. Yep, it was called Boyzone. Apparently, while messing about with this in London, he developed an interest in acting for fun, and eventually found himself performing on several local stages, until that fateful day he was spotted by the widely-respected, (and not at all disgraced and totally done thespian actor), Kevin Spacey. Spacey admired Farrell's abilities, and brought him onto a little film he was making called, Ordinary Decent Criminal (2000), which garnered newcomer Colin some amount of attention from critics. This gave him the ol' actor itch, and he was quickly off to Hollywood to try and make it big while the spotlight was still on him. And make it big he did. Joel Schumacher cast Farrell as the lead in his Vietnam bro-story, Tigerland (2000), launching him onto the scene pretty hot with a head-turning performance, seemingly tailor-made to show off all the chops he had: from humor to drama, good looking to dangerous, and an ability to work well within the Hollywood system. Next Colin decided to portray Jesse James in the ill-fated American Outlaws (2001), a spectacular mess of a western that Farrell himself claims to have no recollection of making, due mainly in part, to his heavy drug and alcohol abuse at the time. I personally spent an afternoon or two watching this Scott Caan infested movie, and I can confirm how magically forgettable it is. But even still, Farrell shines; he charms the viewer through horrible dialogue and pretty cool stunt work, creating a fun, relatable character who's just surrounded by stupid people in a stupid world. The Make It Happen, Damn It! Years At around this time, Hollywood producers figured out that the best way to get this kid in the picture was by stacking him up with some big names. Hart's War (2002), saw Farrell standing alongside Bruce Willis in a battle of morals and brotherhood in the little seen, but competent enough, prisoner of war drama. Then Colin was tapped by Steven Spielberg to play the hard-nosed antagonist in the sci-fi-noir Tom Cruise vehicle, Minority Report (2002). This was the first role that really made me perk up at the site of Colin Farrell. Although he admits in interviews that he was more than a little star struck working with Cruise and Spielberg, it in no way shows in the finished product. Farrell goes toe-to-toe, (literally and figuratively), with Cruise throughout the course of the film and holds his own, even creating a surprise turn of empathy towards his character in the final act. It's no small feat. Next up was his heart-pounding one-man performance in the sleeper-hit thriller, Phone Booth (2002), which found Farrell caught between rogue sniper Kiefer Sutherland, and hostage negotiator, Forest Whitaker. The Recruit (2003) was his follow-up, and this is another movie I go to bat for. Not just because Farrell showed up to the premiere dating Britney Spears (admirable), but also because The Recruit is just sinfully underrated. It's a movie packed with fun twists, smart dialogue and one hell of an Al Pacino performance. Pacino, in his established later years, called Farrell, “…one of the greatest.” He unfortunately may have spoken too soon. Around this time, Farrell teamed up with the likes of Michael Clarke Duncan, Jennifer Garner, Joe Pantoliano and Ben “Are You Following The News At All” Affleck, for everybody's favorite regret: Daredevil (2003). While this movie is schlock, (and I, too, would like to keep this part brief), I will say that Farrell is probably the most “entertaining” part of the “film.” Especially in scenes where he and Duncan get to act like goofy-ass Bond villains, delivering lines of dialogue for an audience that is not in the room. Then he made S.W.A.T. (2003), which has LL Cool J in it. Faux-Thespian Era Having shown how good this boy can shoot guns and really chew on a moment in big blockbusters, the world-weary Farrell, (who at this point had only been acting in films professionally for 3 fucking years), decided to pump the brakes on the explosions, and take a few cracks at that Oscar gold while getting the opportunity to work with some of the best in the biz. John Crowley's Intermission (2003), gave us a peek at the dim-wit scumbag with a heart of gold character, that would come to be a staple of the Farrell’s career, while A Home at the End of the World (2004), handled Colin with your typical forbidden fruit bad boy persona, while allowing for some great dramatic risks from the actor, who was trying to find a sincere way to communicate his own delicate style of performance. This movie, however passable it may be, does contain an amazing performance from Farrell, (again surrounded by stupid people in a stupid world), this time while wearing a stupid wig, and trying to sleep with EVERYONE. Oliver Stone's A-B-Y-S-M-A-L Alexander (2004), also happened to contain a pretty good performance from Farrell, but even second-wave Val Kilmer couldn't save that one. The movie was panned by critics, practically unanimously, and also happened to have one of the most legendary disastrous press tours just before its release. It's crazy; I still remember the hype behind this thing, as well as the agonizing embarrassment once it finally hit screens. The New World (2005), saw Farrell teaming up with cinematic genius, Terrence Malick, who at this point was still making movies, instead of poetry-laden horseshit that I wouldn't recommend to my most pretentious enemies, ( Song to Song is s'okay). While The New World is itself filled to the brim with poetry-like inner monologue, presenting the mindset of our three main characters caught unknowingly in a love triangle centered on the story of Pocahontas (Q'orianka Kilcher) and John Smith (Farrell), the film still has a narrative through-line, with a beginning, middle and end. Oh, and a point. Good to have one of those (I kid, I kid). And if I may be so bold, I consider The New World to be my favorite of Farrell's career, not just because of the film itself or Farrell's performance in it, but both, and so much more. It is near perfect; the film’s sweetness is as electrifying as its passion is contagious. Then I think he made Miami Vice (2006), with Michael Mann and Jamie Foxx. To be honest, I'm not sure. And again, neither is Colin Farrell. There was a Woody Allen movie too, called Cassandra's Dream (2007), which is aight, but like, not really. The Soul Searching Years What followed next for Farrell was a wild little ride between the indie actor and the big star within, as he tightrope walked between both previous eras of his career. I think it can be blamed (although not fully), on Colin’s first collaboration with director Martin McDonagh, In Bruges (2008). Farrell returned to his plucky, dimwit criminal demeanor, and accidentally scooped up a Golden Globe for Best Actor in the process. I say accidentally, because I don't think anyone saw this coming, as fantastic as the character and his performance is! I'd imagine this created quite the complex in Farrell; after years of reaching out with heavy dramatic roles and big name directors and co-stars, he landed the gold by playing one of his oldest personas with a first-time director and a cast that is virtually unrecognizable to the average movie watcher. In Bruges was followed by a string of missteps and departures, both good and bad: Pride and Glory (2008) teamed him up with Edward Norton, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus (2009), saw him share a character with the likes of Johnny Depp, Jude Law and the late-Heath Ledger, and Ondine (2009) had him fall in love with a selkie, (kind of like a seal-mermaid), because some shit just needs to be did. Around this time Colin sang some songs in the wickedly good, yet arguably overrated, Crazy Heart (2009), alongside living legend, Jeff Bridges, before giving everybody a good groan or laugh when he stole Tom Cruise's costume from Tropic Thunder , and hopped in front of the cameras for Horrible Bosses (2011), a flick I genuinely enjoy, and a performance I think is hilarious and insanely self-aware. This was around the time where Farrell apparently cleaned up 100%, quitting the wild life to focus on honing in on the type of actor he really wanted to be. This change led to what I think is the most underrated chapter of his filmography, the remake of the 1980's comedy-horror classic, Fright Night (2011). While the film pales in comparison to the original, it should be noted that the remake doesn't really seem all that interested in creating a story that can be compared to the 1985 version, deviating heavily in both story and tone, as the film progresses. Farrell's portrayal of Jerry the Vampire stacks right up there with Chris Sarandon's version, and we also get a super-duper bonus performance from the late Anton Yelchin, in a role that he seems chemically engineered to play. Total Recall (2012) was up next, and all the groans, sighs and yawns were to be expected, and I was right there with everyone else. Total Recall is a movie you just don't need to remake. I'd go so far as to say, you couldn’t remake it, although I wouldn't really even know where to begin explaining that. It like... just is, man. Farrell ain't bad in it. At this point he had perfected his big action movie star presence, but he also ain't doing the flick any favors. After those two ventures into Hollywood-Remake-Land, Farrell shouldered back up with director Martin McDonagh ( In Bruges ) for Seven Psychopaths (2012), a film with a star-studded cast of talent, including Woody Harrelson, Tom Waits, Sam Rockwell, Christopher Walken and Harry Dean Stanton. Even despite all that power onscreen, Farrell still shines as the morally confused glue that keeps all these wacky oddballs together. Fully Formed Farrell Colin next took a trip to HBO, to become a part of the doomed-from-the-start production of the second season of one of the most critically acclaimed shows in recent years: True Detective (2015). Farrell's portrayal of fallen officer Ray Velcoro is one of the highlights of the show. His character echoes the very basic nature of the show's two seasons, dealing with the futility of being good in a world that has so much evil and seems so unfair. Much of the angst and disappointment I find regarding TDS2 , tends towards viewers always wanting things to be explained more clearly and earlier on in the season, (as if the show wasn't a fucking murder mystery). And I get it; confusion doesn't make people feel very good. But to be fair, the noir-ish nuance of the second season is hard-boiled to a crisp, and this causes our character's inner conflicts to reflect the surrounding mystery; as we learn more about the crime, we learn more about our characters. There are bad things about it, (*cough* dialogue *cough*), that is inarguable, but that should not interfere with the quality of other aspects of the show, such as character, motivation, tone and theme. And I really think Farrell, (along with season MVP Taylor Kitsch), deserves a fair shake in the aftermath years of the disappointing sequel-season. But hey! No time to feel bad for our boy, because next up was one of his most critically appreciated films to date: The Lobster (2015). Farrell teamed up with the unique directing style of Yorgos Lathimos and nabbed himself a Golden Globe nomination. Like in Horrible Bosses , Colin threw aside his usual sexy demeanor for a more average male physique and stature, growing a mustache and putting on some weight, (but was still unable to shake that amazing head of hair of his). The Lobster saw Farrell demonstrating that great knack for comedy-infused sadness and awkwardness to wonderful execution, garnering him almost unanimous praise from critics and audiences alike. (Robby wrote an incredible article on it, which you can, and should, read here ) Deciding he'd continue messing with our heads, he jumped into what originally seemed to be the villain role in the new Harry Potter spin-off series: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (2016), as Percival Graves. While I'll try to stray from any major spoilers for the film, I will say that what ends up happening was not very much to the liking of many viewers I've talked to, as the events during the movie have led some to believe that Farrell may not be a part of the rest of the film series. And this sucks, because he was actually the best part of the decent-enough rebranding of the wizarding world phenomena. Fingers and wands crossed for his triumphant return later down the line. This brings us to what very well may be considered the Farrellvolution (trademarked). 2017 has seen Farrell not only work with amazing actors in amazing movies, but he takes home the show in each one, even when up against the likes of Nicole Kidman, Denzel Washington and Nicole Kidman again! Sofia Coppola's The Beguiled (2017) is a breathtakingly beautiful study on male-dominance and the role gender plays in the manipulation of friendship, desire and sex. At the center of this story is would-be sweetheart Farrell, using all the charm at his disposal to find a way to escape the clutches of women he believes himself to be superior than. Again, the movie is so much more than this, and even this description doesn't do it justice, but it really is a movie meant to be seen cold. I highly recommend it, not just as a kick-ass Farrell exhibition, but also as an insanely impressive joint from Coppola. (Check out Bern and Robby's Hot Takes episode ) Very soon thereafter, we see the actor rejoining his buddy Yorgos Lanthimos for The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017), a return to the director's absurdist form of storytelling, this time, trading in romance and humor for psychological horror and mythology. If that confuses you, you may or may not have seen this movie. Farrell again kills it, as he delivers monotonous lines with razor sharp edges intended to cut just the right way, a feat that is no easy task, as we see other incredible actors attempting to nail down the cadence of how humans talk to one another in this world, always seeming to be just one step behind Mr. Farrell. He also has amazing hair again, (naturally). (Here's the Hot Takes episode on that one!) His latest film, and final of this year is Roman J. Israel, Esq. (2017), directed by Nightcrawler's upcoming superstar writer/director, Dan Gilroy. Farrell is (once again) magnetic. His role is quite small for a second-billed actor, basically starting off as the film's moral measure to our hero, (the titular Roman, played with the eternal grace that is Denzel Washington), to become a sidekick of sorts, used to bounce on and off of the philosophical musings the film is presenting to the audience. But even with this little part, Farrell shines in every scene with a naturalism that actors in their early 40's rarely master. It may sound like exaggeration, but I assure you, the kid has got it. So, what next for the Bad Boy That Was? He's going to be in the new Dumbo (2019) remake (yay?), as well as the far more exciting, Widows (2018): Steve McQueen's crime-drama follow-up to 12 Years a Slave , which has a cast that will knock your hat off if you're wearing a hat when you read it. Beyond that, the sky is the limit. I'd imagine Farrell would see some smaller scale accords for any of his last three performances; however, I wouldn't hold out much hope for the big award shows, as this year is already teeming with hot newcomers, bold performances and long overdue thespians taking one last shot at that sweet, sweet gold. Awards aside, I think Farrell will continue to delight with his choices in projects and the artists connected to them, meaning we'll probably get at least another 52 flicks out of him before he's out of that magic charm. What's your favorite/most hated Colin Farrell movie and why? Jump down to the comments and let us know! Mike Burdge Editor-in-Chief Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th. #Newsle #Articles #StoryScreenThanks #MikeBurdge #December2017 #ColinFarrell #TrueDetective #Filmography

Starship Troopers , (a film I love), just may be one of the most underrated and misunderstood films of all time, (and I love that, too). There, I said it. This isn't really that crazy of an opinion these days. Although the super-violent 1997 space-action flick barely made its money back – $120 million from a $100 million budget – and was panned by critics all around (I can't even quote Roger Ebert's views on the film; it's too embarrassing for too many reasons from too many points of view), the film was finally understood after, well, 9/11. There's also a lot of Vietnam in there for sure. How the movie decides to present both its story and themes through subtlety and commitment to satire can be confusing, if not downright unnoticeable. The ideals and motivations of the world and its characters are presented in such an overaggressive way that it’s enough to make the audience commit in one of two ways: 1) either this is an insanely right-wing, fascist, pro-genocide work of propaganda wrapped up into a summer alien invasion-action movie, or 2) this is a humorous denouncement of overt militarism and how our society is moving towards a culture that has left behind any lessons we may have learned from our past, instead deciding to champion violence and victory over kindness and understanding. And, ho-boy does that sound familiar, am I right? Flashback time! It's the summer of '97. The new Alien: Resurrection flick is about to hit theaters this fall and everybody can't wait. My father introduces me (at the very inappropriate age of 11) to Ellen Ripley and the world of the Xenomorphs in their first three incarnations, all in preparation to take me to the movie theater to see the newest installment in the Signourney-Weaver-Kicks-Ass-Chronicles. And I am pumped. The Alien series was such a treat for me, as a young boy who had already begun whetting his cinematic appetite with the likes of Spielberg, Lucas and Cameron, not to mention the occasional traumatic experience served up by Carpenter, Craven or Scorsese. The first movie got me into Ridley Scott. The second movie more than affirmed my choice of favorite director at the time, (both Terminators and The Abyss , baby). And the third introduced to me to one of my future favorite auteurs of film, David Fincher. Long story short, we rolled out to see Resurrection in early December, just after the holidays, and were met with the dreaded sold out. I was crushed. We started to drive back home, and when my father's heart couldn't take anymore, he pulled a U-turn for the ages, heading straight back to the box office and asking for two tickets to the next screening of any movie. That movie was Starship Troopers , still idling by on silver screens across America, knee deep in its first month of release. My goodness, what a mistake he must have thought that was. Where the Alien franchise depended on dread to astonish, Starship Troopers was an exploitation smoothie, as if its creators had put anything they could find from the most depraved genres of film: cursing, nudity, violence, gore, sex, guns, white people, etc., and pushed the blend button. This is a film where the first ten minutes contain a scene in which a teacher lectures students on how the attack on Hiroshima is considered a great act for stopping World War II. A film where two characters, who have done nothing wrong morally or ethically, are sacrificed for the sake of our other heroes, (one by being impaled repeatedly and swung around like a rag doll, and the other by having his brains sucked out through a tube by a giant space slug). This is a film where our main character is shown to have a true dream, aspirations that no one believes he can ever hope to achieve, and we, the audience, get to see these dreams systematically crushed over the course of his journey, whether by the manipulation of his tyrannical government, or ripped from him by being placed in situations that will most definitely lead to some seriously tragic and traumatic episodes. Pass the popcorn, Dad! But I digress. As foolish as my father was to put me in that theater, I've gotta say, it's one of my favorite film anecdotes concerning myself. Mainly because it brings up Starship Troopers , a film that most people seem to forget, and those that remember it fall firmly into one of the two previously stated categories. They either think that it's a laser-filled mess, or they believe it is a satirical masterpiece. And that has always been an intriguing conversation to get into. It's a film that demands open-mindedness in the face of everything that gets the closed-minded off: violence, sex, guns, torture and white people. It is intentionally misleading in its own bravado showmanship of the very actions and ethics, (or lack thereof) it seeks to ultimately upend and criticize. It glorifies a society that has become one of conquest, always needing a new frontier to colonize, thereby, creating a new enemy that they must defeat. And the tactics this society uses, both against its enemy and themselves, are truly unnerving. Starship Troopers presents a distant future of Earth, one where we have essentially become the Mirror Universe of Star Trek , a civilization reaching for the stars in want of war and victory, instead of peace and exploration. Screenwriter Edward Neumeier, (who also wrote director Paul Verhoeven's much more critically accepted take down of police states, Robocop ), adapted the story from a Robert A. Heinlein novel of the same name. However, where the film takes a satirical approach in its depiction of a bloodthirsty human race of the future, the novel is chock full of brash and irresponsible warmongering, going so far as to practically condone fascism and genocidal tactics in conquest and war. Neumeier uses irony and exaggeration to comment on the right-wing mentality of American society, presenting these ideas as sincere and supportive, but undermining them through various methods to ultimately be critical and mocking of such a belief structure. To make matters even more confusing, Neumeier chose to take the themes of the Heinlein’s novel, (mixed with his own depiction), and translate them through the tropes and tone of mid-90's teen soap operas, creating a multi-layered crazy cultural satire that both intrigues and bewilders. It's quite amusing to watch a gory action film of this scale include all of the staple characters and sub-plots of whatever WB Thursday night teen-drama you wish to compare it to, going so far as casting ‘90's heartthrobs Casper Van Dien, Denise Richards and Sir Neil Patrick Harris, forcing them to deliver their lines in the most monochromatic way possible. How the fuck did they get these kids to do this to their careers?? This serves the film very well it turns out, as the first hour or so of the film is fully committed to character development and world building, allowing for quite simply, everything to be entertaining and interesting, instead of simply spectacle. But let's get back to why it's worth talking about this movie 20 years after its release. It's no secret to those who have enjoyed Starship Troopers for years to give a great read to those about to embark on a revisit to the film. Every time they say, “bug,” replace it with “terrorist.” It is truly unnerving how 20 years has led us closer to this hysterically exaggerated take on how our American military (and the culture that backs it), functions both nationally and globally. Even more unnerving are the similarities of a film made four years prior to the events it accidentally (?) predicts, and commenting on our reaction as citizens of the leader of the free world. The attack on Buenos Aires by the arachnids, is propagated by the media and the government as an attack on our very way of life, an act of war that calls for us to enlist and help fight the good fight. However, we soon learn that the first rock thrown was actually very much our own: settling down on the “bug” home world uninvited and unwelcome, beginning a chain of events where our own pride and negligence would most assuredly result in retaliation of equal or greater force. Even worse is the idea that the “bugs” may have had nothing to do with, (or at the very least played a very small part in), the meteor that struck down Buenos Aires, causing millions of new soldiers to suddenly volunteer and suit up to fight the enemy. Very dark, indeed. The film presents a world where our young are imprinted on through propaganda and one-sided education, to create a sense of self-worth that can only be found in service to the military. The only way one can be fully accepted by society, the only way to be deemed a “citizen,” is to serve. It's about what you can give it, before it even considers giving you anything. That may seem harsh and a bit of a stretch when compared to real world – right now in America – but this is satire after all; some exaggeration is not only expected, it's mandatory. The propaganda used in Starship Troopers , which is similar to that used in Robocop , is insanely relevant to the misinformation/”fake news” mentality of recent years in America and worldwide. The manipulation of facts and events to advance a one-sided agenda, presented through cleverly staged advertisements, reflect an exaggerated Facebook auto-play video that you can find on just about anyone's current timeline. The attempt is to other the so-called “enemy,” a continued perpetuation of violence against the seemingly horrible and evil looking face of those who are not like us. Outside of the propaganda itself, are the actions it attempts to rationalize and glorify, going so far as to defend specific measures we as human beings have learned to be unjust and immoral from past incidents throughout history, such as sending premature soldiers into battles they don't fully understand, falsifying information for national morale, using torture as a means to an end and genocide masked as virtuous conquest for the greater (our) good. Even the idea of communication is laid on the slab, as the intellectuals and scientists who dissect the bodies and minds of our enemy do so in order to find weaknesses in order to exploit them for gain, rather than to understand a path to peace or finding common ground. Starship Troopers boldly presents a world where we are initially thrust unwillingly and unknowingly into the mindset of the bad guys, (the bad guys who think they are the heroes). If you need any evidence of this, just look at the casting of classic ‘80's bad guys, Michael Ironside and Clancy Brown, as generational heroes and teachers of this reality. It is an unfortunately close-to-home hit, as recent events have showed us that those in power are very determined to divide us both morally and ethically. Morals and ethics come from experience and our view of the world, and when our view of the world is controlled by what we read, what we see, whom we love and how we live, there are many variables to be toyed with to achieve a proper end. The film begs the question, (wrapped in an action-filled spectacle of popcorn entertainment), “Am I the hero of the story, or am I just the hero of my story?” We all believe ourselves to be the protagonist of reality, quite simply, because we have no other basis for comparison when it comes to experience and self-reflection. But if we could just try to understand each other on a slightly deeper level, and really listen to each other instead of waiting for our own turn to speak, we might fully comprehend that manipulation is a real thing. People in power are the one's who have immediate, easy access to use it without fear of consequence. Then we might just take one small step in the opposite direction from this possible future. And I personally would love to take that U-turn for ages. Mike Burdge Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th. #Newsletter #Articles #20thAnniversary #StarshipTroopers #MikeBurdge #SciFi #Irony #Satire #1997 #November2017 #Alien #FakeNews

2017 was cricktey-cray. There was an exorbitant amount of high quality flicks released throughout the otherwise turbulent year. But we all know why you're here. It's not to listen to me whine and champion this or that. Not when there are movies to talk about. I'll get out of this thing's way with only a quick caveat... This was a rough year to break this list down, even with the healthy self-served serving of 17 films making the cut. And while I can't yell to the heavens about every great film I loved that didn't make this list, I would like to mention several that I will cherish for the rest of my life that just didn't make it, (with a small serving of what made them so special): The beautiful rage of John Wick Chapter 2 . The oh-so-similar feeling(s) of I Don't Feel At Home in This World Anymore . The surprising entertainment and horror of Life . The (insert oxymoron, add 15 synonyms for miraculous) that is Wonder Woman . The much needed breath of fresh air given by Thor: Ragnarok . The most welcoming of second helpings that T2: Trainspotting gave in plenty. The raw sensuality and passively compassionate message of Okja . The cool twist on the old classic zombie flick The Girl with All the Gifts . The awe-inspiring Lost City of Z . How Lucky makes you not only consider, but more importantly, contemplate. Crown Heights , and its phenomenal structure. The way I, Tonya feels like a movie you could just watch on repeat. How The Little Hours keeps you laughing. Absolutely everything about The Beguiled . The amazing cast of Lady Bird . The artistic endeavor of the century that is, Star Wars: The Last Jedi. The timely and gut-wrenching Detroit . The evocative and subtle Burning Sands . The celebration that is Coco . The masterwork and beautiful brutality of Brawl in Cell Block 99 . The tasty beats and beautiful characters of Patti Cake$ . The haunting reality and lingering dreams of It Comes At Night. The raw sensitivity and honesty of The Big Sick . Super Dark Times , and its ability to sustain mood and tone throughout horror and humor. Gerald's Game's way of defining itself. The lurid seduction that is Beach Rats . The high adventure of the subconscious The Killing of a Sacred Deer allows us to have. The way The Post feels like the perfect movie for the perfect time with the perfect cast. The way you can smell the sweat in Good Time . How Lady Macbeth feels like an instant classic. The way Brigsby Bear makes you want to make everyone love something you love. How The Shape of Water makes you want to hold that one person. How Personal Shopper makes you remember holding that one person that's gone forever. None of these wonderful films made my “Top list” this year, and while I can't really explain why they didn't, I can guarantee you, that the ones that did make it, were put there after much thought. I hope you can forgive me. Unfortunately, I was unable to catch: The Square, Kingsman 2: The Golden Circle, My Friend Dahmer, Professor Marston and the Wonder Women, Gook, Phantom Thread, Thelma, The Lure, and Darkest Hour. I wil do better next year. Let's get on with it then. I promise not to cheat.... #17. Ingrid Goes West This movie is devastatingly self-aware and as dark a comedy can get, all while discussing the addictions that social media can present. Its performances are legendary and every joke lands with flying colors. It acts as an equally relevant companion to The Social Network , where we were presented with the origins of putting the social experience on the internet. Only in Ingrid , we are presented with the crude and horrifying results of learning a new form of social interaction, strictly through the internet, and the unsympathetic consequences of reaching for something real, while yearning to just be yourself. The film is a personal experience, one that has a laugh with, but never fully mocks, our introverted protagonist, whose methods are beyond forgivable, but whose desires are as simple as making a connection with someone she admires. (Watch the trailer) #16. mother! Aronofsky has crafted a film that will entertain the willing for years and years. There are tons of ways to interpret its multiple layers of metaphors; you will not forget this flick after you have seen it. In a year filled with divisive movies, mother! is the one that will challenge and reward you time and time again, all the while, giving you a real good look at Jennifer Lawrence's nostrils. This film doesn't stray away from cringe-inducing visuals and situations, as if Aronofsky had been taking notes on how to push the envelope further than his other films, Requiem for a Dream, The Wrestler and Black Swan . While I've been a very big fan of his since as long as I can remember, mother! is the movie that really gets me excited about seeing what else this guy is capable of when given the right freedoms to create a specific vision. It would be higher on my list if I weren’t so goddamn afraid of it. (Watch the trailer) #15. Hounds of Love Look, I'm gonna be straight with you: this movie is NOT for everyone. It is a rough ride, a beautiful ride of demented proportions. There are strange things, and there are nightmares among every frame. Nothing this year made me feel as horrified as I was during every moment of this film, (okay, that one scene in Gerald's Game got a big “GAAAHNNNNNOOOOO!!” from me). But I will say, that for those accepting of the film’s premise, (which I swear to you, is not as exploitative as it seems), you will be met with a vision of pure cinematic magic, a feeling the very medium was created to invoke. (Watch the trailer) #14. Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 “Hey, let's have some fun!” was spouted across a Marvel table of some kind a few years back when for some unthinkable reason the biggest guns in Superhero Hollywood decided to give the Slither dude free reign of an obscure team of space miscreants set to B-side tunes of the 70's. And perfection was born. Where the first installment suffered solely from a forced larger continuity problem, GotGV2 is a fucking masterpiece of pacing, tone, mood and (my personal favorite), daddy issues. The heart of this movie is so big, so joyful, so welcoming, the multi-colored palette of expression begs even the most casual of viewers to become one with its being. This was one of my most anticipated films of the year, and damn it feels good to wait so long for something that feels so just right for me. (Watch the trailer) #13. Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri A gem of a movie, Three Billboards is getting the love it rightfully deserves on the awards circuit, although this particular film critic couldn't have seen it coming. Sure, the movie boasts some fine actors in fantastic roles, and the writer/director is no stranger to churning out some high class dialogue and scenario, but walking away from this movie I couldn't help but think: are people going to get this movie? Its messages are razor sharp, and delicate hands abound. While the film has been met with some backlash, (a conversation that definitely should be started, but also seen through to the end), it nevertheless has already planted itself down as one of the finest cinema experiences of the year, boasting a message of understanding that is needed now, tomorrow and for many years to come. (Watch the trailer) #12. Get Out What more can you say about this gift of a movie that hasn't already been said? Jordan Peele's debut is a revelation, cold hard proof that we are witnessing a talented auteur during his first steps towards legendary status. One day, we will all be able to look back on this directorial debut and relish the origins of an icon. On multiple viewings, Get Out not only remains entertaining, but also grows in humor and sensibility, revealing new layers of meditation on the horrors of our racially charged culture. Get Out sets its sights on scaring you, making you laugh, making you think, and it accomplishes all of these goals as naturally as stirring a cup of tea. That is, of course, what a good movie is supposed to do. But with Get Out , we are fortunate enough as an audience to have these accomplishments attributed to a great movie. (Watch the trailer) #11. Dunkirk Christopher Nolan has delivered his masterpiece. While films like Memento and The Dark Knight will forever remain mainstays in the catalogue of awesome films, Dunkirk is a delicacy to the cinematic palette of even your most conservative movie tastes. The sights and sounds of the film are so well harnessed to its presentation that you would be hard pressed to find someone who wasn't affected by this movie in the many ways it sets out to affect. As good a film as you could hope for, Dunkirk also happens to be one of the most watchable movies of the year, lending itself to the timelessness of its genre and narrative. (Watch the trailer) #10. War for the Planet of the Apes It is very rare that a third installment in a trilogy is even a good movie. This. Movie. Is. Incredible. Andy Serkis' performance is literally jaw dropping about 27 times throughout the movie’s generous runtime. The film's construction not only works within itself, it creates a phenomenal arc throughout its placement in its predecessors. It is a miracle and just one more final reason to recommend this amazing trilogy that speaks to the empathy and compassion we all hold inside of us. (Watch the trailer) #9. The Florida Project A world shattering blend of innocence and wonderment, this is the one movie you've heard about that deserves all the praise. An actual threshold of magic, The Florida Project , never strays away from the bleakness of reality, all the while basking in the glow of adventure and curiosity through the eyes of children. Not only does this film make you feel like a child again, it leaves you yearning for the simpler desires a certain kind of youth gives. (Watch the trailer) #8. Logan My second most rewatched film of the year, (the first firmly holds this list’s coveted #1 spot), Logan is not only a formidable film and acceptable farewell to its titular character, but also a superhero movie that you can truly call a “film.” With noir elements bleeding even into its underappreciated score, and enough energy to make even the most tired of us stand up and cheer for yet another superhero story, Logan gives all it can and lays itself wounded and bare during its final moments, celebrating a character and performance that has come to define the past two decades of mutant-filled adventure. Some films reach for escapism to jettison us to far away places filled with glamour and excitement, but Logan simply invites us to look upon the decay of an icon, and the decay of a dream, begging us to consider how we worship our heroes. (Watch the trailer) #7. All These Sleepless Nights A hedonistic journey of desire and self-discovery, this is the one flick that will stay with me, intimately, for a long time. I'm having trouble finding the words to accurately articulate just what makes this film feel so vibrant and alive. I will digress, as any adjective filled commentary would simply fall short of the pure, excessive magnetism this film generates, and I will quite vulnerably just say that it is on Netflix and you should watch it again and again. (Watch the trailer) #6. A Ghost Story A Ghost Story is a hell of film. I'm not one for the Mallick-ian way of filmmaking, but I am also honest enough to admit that sometimes it feels real good when it’s done right. Song to Song , Mallick's own contribution to the year 2017, is a vast improvement to his recent ventures, but A Ghost Story is a sight to behold. Shot in pure hipster-gram, the film is moody, evocative, luring, dangerous, sensual and electric. And for you foodies out there, there's some damn good action about half way in. This one probably gets my highest recommendation on this list for those looking for dat good weed movie. (Watch the trailer) #5. Raw Like Hounds of Love , this is an equally, if not slightly sweeter, rough watch. The most impressive film of the year, Raw holds no punches, demonstrating a perfect storm of emotion and dread. Another phenomenally original take on the coming-of-age sub-genre of film, Raw presents us with a young woman who simply doesn't know why, and who is met with difficult answers around every turn, as she slowly begins to discover what life is all about. The film's metaphors are alluring, as intimidating as they are interesting, provoking you into a sense of realism that feels too dirty or too clean to be true. It is feverish. It is a nightmare. It is splendid. (Watch the trailer) #4. Baby Driver Edgar Wright has created a masterwork of epic proportions, even the presence of Kevin Spacey, (disgraced af Hollywood actor) can't even attempt to derail the most uptight of viewers. Where to begin with this movie??! Stunts! Dialogue! Music! Costumes! Sets! Glasses! JON HAMM!! Fuck this, I'm just going to watch the movie again right now. Hold on… Yep. Still fuckin' amazing. (Read more of my words on it here ) (Watch the trailer) #3. Colossal An absolutely original story about a woman struggling with addiction, and coming to terms with the type of person she is and the type she wants to be. Anne Hathaway is phenomenal, subtly creating her character with layers and personality that are immediately endearing and relatable. But it is Jason Sudeikis that steals the show in this number, putting in a performance that stands up as one of the best of the year, (in this humble critic's opinion). Without giving too much away, (because, really, the surprises are what make this flick so good), Colossal is a fantastic dissection of toxicity, and a highly relevant commentary on how we treat people who are in need of help and at the mercy of those surrounding them. (Read more of my words on it here ) (Watch the trailer) #2. Call Me By Your Name Whew. Call Me By Your Name ... A film as beautiful and poetic as it is, well, captivating and timeless. You don't need to look much further for an example of how good actors, a good script and a good director can really produce something visionary and yet quaint. Keeping the stakes firmly low in some regards, and in others dramatically high, Call Me By Your Name is a love story for the ages. It firmly solidifies itself amongst the greats like, Casablanca, Before Sunrise, Roman Holiday, High Fidelity, Brokeback Mountain and Love Story . It yearns for you to feel the desire, it begs for you to empathize, and it demands that you want, whatever it may be, and cheerfully, if not at times, direly, holds your hand to help you find it. It is a sensual meditation on what it means to discover, and be haunted by, love. It is a sensation. (Watch the trailer) #1. Blade Runner 2049 I am on board with this movie 100%. The acting is fantastic, the design is astounding, the music is transcendent. The film contains one of the most thought provoking and emotionally devastating character arcs of any film I've seen this year, providing twist and turns and revelations galore, without ever coming across as hokey or confusing. The movie is a goddamn masterpiece, a proto-sequel that has no right to be as fantastic as it is. Standing on its own, the film is a lesson on what movies can do, generating so many different tones and emotions that you are simply marveled at every turn. Riveting is a perfect word. A solid contemplation on the nature of meaning, and the meaning of what is real, Blade Runner 2049 is more than a sequel; it is a necessary and wholly original flash of good ol' movie makin'. Yet, as a sequel, Blade Runner 2049 succeeds where many of its ilk normally fall flat, and it does so with resounding dexterity. Denis Villeneuve is not messing around, simultaneously building off of the 1982 classic, while exploring deeper and richer themes that are a natural extension of the original film’s key questions. The movie is long, but this allows the eye to rest on the presentations and completely consume the ideas and splendor that is Roger Deakins' finely tuned frame. Seeing a movie that takes its time this deftly, allowing its characters and themes to naturally evolve, is a joy, one that makes me wish for more. It gives us our best bad “guy” of 2017 (Love), and also one of our most interesting character dynamics between its two leads, (Ryan Gosling's K and Harrison Ford's Deckard), while also providing us with enough attitude and flair to keep the screen electric. Blade Runner 2049 is not only one of the greatest sequels ever made, it is one of the greatest films ever made. (Watch the trailer) Mike Burdge Editor-in-Chief Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th. #Newsletter #Article #MikeBurdge #Top17 #Top10 #2017 #Bestof #Bestof2017

If nothing else, 2017 was a year that warranted some escapism. Luckily, in a time where real life seemed more dark and cynical by the day, the world of cinema flourished. I was fortunate to spend the year on a journey with Story Screen that allowed me to immerse myself in film discussion. Enjoying dozens of excellent flicks with good friends was a ray of positivity in an otherwise troubling year. I think I’ve seen more new movies this year than any other previous, which I can attribute almost entirely to my participation in the Story Screen family’s podcasts, Story Screen Presents . I’ve managed to narrow down a huge list of favorites to ten movies that really spoke to me. I should stress here, that by no means do I think these are the “best” movies of 2017, but instead the ones that really left an impression on me. So without further ado, I present ten movies listed in order from my tenth favoritest to my most favoritest. 10. Star Wars: The Last Jedi When Rian Johnson was announced as the writer and director of Star Wars: Episode VIII , I was ecstatic. His 2005 high school noir Brick still ranks in my all time favorites. Needless to say, I had fully bought in on the hype, as The Last Jedi was probably my most anticipated film of the year. Johnson managed to exceed my expectations, with a film that deconstructs everything Star Wars is and has ever been, then pieces it all back together to create a fresh and modern new direction for the series. I loved its exploration on themes of failure, loss, and legacy. I really loved the new interpretation of the Force, and the film’s criticism of its fundamentally binary nature. Not to mention it is gorgeous, thrilling, and surprisingly funny. The more time and thought I give it, the more I appreciate The Last Jedi , and I can’t wait to see what Johnson does next with the franchise. 9. Logan Comic book movies have come a very, very long way in the last ten years, but few have done as much to push the genre as Logan . It’s fitting that the series send-off of Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine does as much to influence the medium as the original X-Men did way back in 2000. Director James Mangold dials back the bombastic world-ending stakes of typical superhero films to deliver a deeply personal and human tale. Rather than dwelling on the now convoluted canon of previous X-Men entries, Mangold focuses the story on the relationship that Logan and Professor X have developed over so many years. Logan is an examination of everything that has brought these characters here, allowing them a chance to reflect upon their accomplishments and regrets. It’s not only an exceptional comic book movie, but also an exceptional film by any standard. 8. Buster’s Mal Heart Part of my appreciation for Buster’s Mal Heart came from seeing Rami Malek as its lead. Malek’s performance as Elliot Alderson on Mr. Robot is consistently creepy, yet disarmingly charming, and one of my current personal favorites on TV. Buster’s Mal Heart gives Malek an opportunity to go full weird on the big screen. The film’s trippy story and surrealist atmosphere revolves perfectly around Malek’s performance as the titular Buster. The nonlinear structure portrays Buster simultaneously as a family man working nights at a lonely hotel, and a heavily bearded drifter on the run from the police. As it progresses, the two halves of Buster’s personality converge and reveal the mystery of his fate. Buster’s Mal Heart brings a unique brand of quirk and earnestness that is definitely worth checking out for anyone who may have missed it. 7. A Ghost Story This movie made me cry. A lot. Not only during its myriad of melancholy tableaus, but also in the time I spent in quiet reflection after the credits rolled. A Ghost Story follows Casey Affleck’s character “C” on a posthumous journey of reflection. It’s a metaphysical story of life and death, touching upon both deeply personal moments of loss, and far more grandiose ponderings of existence. A Ghost Story could have very easily been overly pretentious, but instead, it achieves a balance that is ultimately tender and sweet. Plus, it has probably the saddest pie-eating scene ever filmed. 6. The Killing of a Sacred Deer When I described Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Lobster on my list of favorites from 2016, I mentioned how it almost seemed to challenge viewers to enjoy themselves. With The Killing of a Sacred Deer , Lanthimos applies that sensibility to psychological horror. His unique brand of cold, matter-of-fact dialogue fits the genre perfectly, slowly building tension with few moments of relief. It’s also mercilessly bleak and impeccably shot. There’s a starkly clean, clinical style to the visuals that align thematically with the story. Barry Keoghan’s quietly menacing performance as Martin is disturbingly ruthless, and the relatively young and up and coming actor easily holds his own among greats, Colin Farrell and Nicole Kidman. True to Lanthimos’ style, The Killing of a Sacred Deer ends on a note so dark that I left the theater speechless. 5. War for the Planet of the Apes The modern reboot of The Planet of the Apes franchise has been a pleasant surprise and consistently great. This year’s War takes the series to a new level and was instantly my favorite of the bunch. The trilogy’s finale ditches human protagonists entirely, giving the lead role firmly to the titular simians. Andy Serkis’ performance has been excellent throughout the series, and achieves new heights in War . In the majority of modern blockbusters, CGI often works to supplement the story and action. With War, computer generated artistry is essential to the story. The animation work here is stunning, lending personality and individuality to each ape, and allowing them to emote in ways that communicate a moving narrative almost entirely wordlessly. The film is gorgeous, gripping, and heartfelt, and presents a new high bar for blockbuster visual storytelling. 4. Get Out Get Out was the first 2017 movie I really loved, and one of the first episodes of Hot Takes that Robby and I recorded for Story Screen. I still vividly remember how at a loss for words we both felt when we sat down to record. Jordan Peele’s directorial debut is a master class of tension and style. Not only does it serve as a perfect horror movie, but it is also a deeply insightful social commentary. Daniel Kaluuya’s Chris is instantly likeable, and the discomfort he feels as the only black person at his girlfriend’s all-white family party is brilliantly communicated to the audience, even before things go off the rails. Peele creates empathy here regardless of the viewer’s race or ethnicity. It’s a powerful message of how it feels to be othered, and a potent spotlight on society’s pervasive casual racism. Get Out is not only one of the most entertaining films of 2017, but also one of the most important. 3. Brawl in Cell Block 99 Writer and director S. Craig Zahler wowed me last year with his debut feature, Bone Tomahawk . His seamless blending of both horror and western genres was right up my alley, and his sharply written dialogue and striking visuals left me excited for whatever came next. His follow up, Brawl in Cell Block 99 , did not disappoint. This time Zahler takes a stab at blending a crime thriller with pure grindhouse, and the result is stylish and brutal. Vince Vaughn steals every scene with his role as a polite southern gentleman gone full apoplectic criminal. The violence here is both over the top, and disturbingly graphic. Vaughn’s character displays a near superhuman aptitude for kicking ass, and some of the scenes of bone snapping and skull stomping had me squirming. But behind the shocking brutality is a compelling story of a man trying to do right by his family, and going to whatever lengths necessary to protect them. In the end, it all comes together to form a flick that I absolutely loved every minute of. 2. It Comes At Night Sometimes what’s truly frightening is the unknown, the unexplained gaps in the darkness onto which we project our greatest fears. We arm the shadows with our paranoia and our prejudices. Such is the tension that It Comes At Night preys upon. This dark, moody and claustrophobic horror by Trey Edward Shults allows its mysteries to linger until they turn to dread. Shults uses the fear of the unknown, both to torment the viewer and drive the story, as the characters struggle to survive an apparent apocalyptic setting, before their paranoia robs them of their remaining humanity. The use of restraint here may frustrate some viewers, but I found It Comes At Night to be a bold and unique take on a well-trodden genre. 1. Blade Runner 2049 In creating a follow up to a legendary sci-fi classic 35 years after its initial release, Denis Villeneuve had nearly every odd stacked against him. Rather than reboot or reimagine the story, Blade Runner 2049 , serves as a direct continuation of Deckard’s story. I personally cannot imagine a more worthy sequel than the one Villeneuve delivered. 2049 is stunningly beautiful and fantastically scored, deftly revisiting and building upon the themes of the original. At this point, most people will probably agree that artificial life made from flesh and blood equally deserves the same rights and freedoms as traditionally born humans, but what if the idea of “life” and “intelligence” was further abstracted? How can we truly define self-awareness and free will? Do experiences that are programmed or predetermined inherently hold less merit than those that are not, so long as those experiences made us feel something? All of the questions that Villeneuve postulates here expertly take up the mantle of Blade Runner and progress it for a modern audience. I positively soaked in every moment of 2049’s moody atmosphere, and even by the end of the film’s nearly three hour run time I didn’t want it to end. Honorable Mention/Actual Favorite: Twin Peaks: The Return There’s been a lot of discussion this year as to whether Twin Peaks: The Return is a film or a TV show. Personally, it doesn’t matter to me, because The Return is my favorite piece of media this year regardless of how you classify it. The Return took every expectation I had for a continuation of a show that was wildly progressive over 25 years ago, and threw it out the window. I found myself lost in every intricate mystery that Lynch and Frost created, spending the week following each new episode dissecting and discussing every detail. Had The Return been presented as an 18-part epic released all at once, I would have missed out on the water cooler discussions that I love so much about serialized fiction. The final product is visually stunning, ceaselessly weird, often hilariously funny and probably the most impressive expression of uncompromised creative vision I have ever seen. Twin Peaks deftly transcends mediums, and a list of my favorites from 2017 would be woefully incomplete without it. Jack Kolodziejski Jack makes drugs for a living, but not necessarily the fun kind. He enjoys international travel and discussing music, movies, and games in excruciating detail. #Newsletter #Articles #Top10 #Bestof #Bestof2017 #2017 #JackKolodziejski

2017 was the year I joined the Story Screen family. It felt incredibly rewarding to help generate a large library of podcasts and articles, as well as expand my understanding and insight of film through the help of said family. I watched a whole hell of a lot of movies and television in 2017! Some I even saw with the Story Screen Family and have more complete thoughts on in audio format! I was once called a, “content consuming machine,” and I believe I lived up to that title this past year. The list you will find below isn’t made up of what I think are the best films of 2017, (whatever that means anymore), they are the films and TV shows that spoke to me personally the most, on a technical and emotional level, that were released in theaters in the United States in 2017. I didn’t get to see every movie that was released last year that I wanted to see, (such as The Florida Project, The Big Sick, Coco, and A Ghost Story ), but I still saw a great deal. That also means, that these aren’t the only films I saw this year that I liked. I’m a pretty big The Last Jedi defender, but that still didn’t make my final list. That’s not a knock on The Last Jedi , but strong evidence that this was a hell of a year for the medium to mature and grow, for new and young filmmakers to share their innovative and progressive ideas like Jordan Peele, Greta Gerwig, and Trey Edward Schultz, as well as veteran filmmakers who stepped up to prove they were ready to improve and expand the capabilities of visual language and storytelling. Now onto the actual list! 10. The Disaster Artist (dir. by James Franco) This is a special case, because it is the cosmically rare occasion that I read the original book, The Disaster Artist: My Life Inside The Room by Greg Sestero and Tom Bissell, before seeing the adaptation. While it’s not a complete or perfect recount of the events that transpired before, during, and after the making of The Room , James Franco creates a soulful and sympathetic window into the period of life of Tommy Wiseau creating The Room , which could have easily turned into a mean-spirited parody. James Franco’s transformative performance as Tommy himself, as well as the inspiring and hilarious story of Tommy and Greg’s friendship, and how it receded and blossomed through the making of this fascinatingly strange film, was a blast to watch and more than lived up to my expectations after reading the novel. 9. Okja (dir. by Bong Joon-Ho) Netflix created and distributed many films throughout 2017. It’s a great and convenient feeling when a movie is “released” and all I have to do is sit my lazy introverted ass down on the couch and just hit play, especially when the movie is such a delight like Okja . It’s not every day where you get a film that depicts a giant CGI Superpig barreling through a shopping mall in slow motion set to “Annie’s Song” by John Denver, but hey, 2017 was a weird year for many. That’s what I loved about it. Bong Joon-Ho and his ensemble cast are fearless about getting weird. He’s not afraid to direct unconventional performances from his ensemble, such as teen heartthrob Jake Gyllenhaal as a slimy hypocritical Steve Irwin from hell, nor is he afraid of taking me on a wild and cathartic ride with a young girl (played brilliantly by Ahn Seo-Hyun), doing all she can to prevent her adorable Superpig pet getting turned into Superbacon. Then, at the same time, hitting me hard with a poignant message of capitalism, factory farming, and the hypocrisy of it all, and at the very end, making me cry? Damn. Not many people do all that at the same time. 8. Good Time (dir. by Ben and Joshua Safdie) Good Time is a neon-lit and deranged nightmare of a movie and I couldn’t divert my eyes away from it for one second. Ben and Joshua Safdie craft a dangerous world for Robert Pattinson’s Connie Nikas, (which, by the way, is a career defining performance) and as the decisions he makes throughout his hellish night in New York City get worse and worse, I’m left confused, angry and enthralled as to what was going to happen next. I had to let out a huge breath of relief when it was over. Propelled by Oneoxtrix Point Never’s funky synth soundtrack and the dingy neon color pallet, Good Time is a thrilling fucked up little adventure I won’t soon forget. The less I say about it the better. Just go watch it. 7. It Comes At Night (dir. by Trey Edward Schultz) Jesus, the marketing for this movie did it no favors. If it was advertised truthfully – as in a teenage coming of age drama set in a Last of Us inspired post apocalypse, as well as a gripping thriller about a family letting another family into their homes in a desperate situation, when at the same time the sense of paranoia is at an all-time high – I think the film would have received the fanfare it deserved. It Comes At Night exemplifies the quote, “the only thing we need to fear is fear itself,” in a tragic and dark tale anchored by a chilling lead performance by Joel Edgerton. As well as the writing/directing of the promising up and coming young filmmaker Trey Edward Schultz, which if this and last year’s Krisha is anything to go by, show he can build and release tension like a motherfucker. You can find my more complete thoughts on the film on the It Comes At Night Hot Takes episode, which you can find here . 6. The Shape of Water (dir. by Guillermo Del Toro) There’s nothing quite like sitting down and taking in a meticulously crafted film where you can truly feel the hundreds of hours of love and effort put into every frame. Guillermo Del Toro’s, Juliet with a fishman, felt like I was eating a perfect home cooked meal. Not for a long time have I rooted for two fictional characters in a film to be together more than Eliza and Doug Jones’ fishman. It’s a tender and graceful romance of two beings that truly deserve to be together, and every time they were apart was gut wrenching. Good lord, the supporting cast as well! I could go on for paragraphs about how these were the roles Michael Shannon, Octavia Spencer and Michael Stuhlbarg were born to play, but I got other movies to write about for this list! 5. mother! (dir. by Darren Aronofsky) Is it weird to admit I had a blast with mother! ? I guess I was just satisfied with seeing an art house horror-thriller that utilizes visual metaphors and unconventional storytelling inside a normal multiplex theater. That doesn’t happen all that often, and I applaud Paramount for taking a risk on Aronofky’s twisted vision. I had the most fun discussing this film with friends and peers, and I know I’m gonna be obsessing over what Aronofsky is trying to convey for a long time to come. Especially that last act. Holy shit, that last act... 4. Dunkirk (dir. by Christopher Nolan) I noticed writing this list that I am a glutton for films that exponentially raise my heart rate, and Dunkirk is no exception to say the least. I cannot recall the last time I have seen a war film that made me feel like I was truly experiencing the hellscape of World War 2 like Dunkirk did. Thanks to its excellent sound design, cinematography and the wonderfully subtle performances from its cast, I was completely engrossed from start to finish and I didn’t want it to end. It was a truly unforgettable film-going experience. 3. Logan (dir. by James Mangold) Hugh Jackman has been portraying Wolverine for as long as I’ve had a working memory. One of the first PG-13 rated films I remember seeing in the theater was the first X-Men in 2000, and Hugh Jackman’s Wolverine left a strong impression on my young self, as well as many others. To see Jackman say goodbye to the character that made him famous, in such a beautiful and introspective film about denying and then embracing his legacy, wrapped in a terrifically staged and thrilling action neo-western, left me emotionally overwhelmed, and it was able to pull that off thanks to its legacy. Logan showed us that Superhero movies can have greater meaning than the typical by-the-numbers action blockbusters we’ve become accustomed to. The future path of the X-men franchise is currently in uncertain territory, but if Logan was the end of the current X-Men as we know it, I would be more than satisfied. 2. Blade Runner 2049 (dir. by Denis Villeneuve) It’s almost unfair just how great of a track record Denis Villeneuve has had since the turn of the decade. He just keeps spoiling us with terrific films. It’s like I have to reserve a spot in my top list every year for whatever he cranks out. This time, not only does he effectively pull off creating a worthy sequel to a 35-year-old sci-fi classic, but he also crafts an arguably better film that builds on the themes of the original, while telling a powerful new story of an android discovering what it actually means to be human. Anchored by Roger Deakins' jaw dropping cinematography, a methodical script that lets the world and atmosphere envelope you as you’re taken in by its mysterious and suspenseful tale, and an ensemble cast that breathes life and humanity into the dark and inhuman world of Los Angeles 2049, this film delivers. The images and ideas presented in Blade Runner 2049 haven’t left my head since I’ve seen it, and I'm sure they won’t be leaving me for quite some time. 1. Get Out (dir. by Jordan Peele) Of course Get Out was going to be my “Top Film of 2017.” A tight-as-hell and original horror script with breakneck pacing and a gratifying ending, was going to make my list on its own, but Get Out is truly special. Get Out made me a better person. It showed me a side of racism that I wasn’t fully aware of until it was pointed out to me. Most films I’ve seen handle racism in an obvious and sometimes heavy-handed fashion, but Get Out showed me another side, a more insidious and unnoticed side. It changed my outlook on how I see the world, and how I’ve become more aware than I used to, of how people control others. It showed me how we still have a long way to go. I can’t thank Jordan Peele and company enough for creating such a game changing film that will rank with the all-time classic horror films for decades to come. It should be shown in schools; it should have free public screenings. Get Out needs to be seen by as many people on this Earth as possible. Maybe it could make us better. It’s worth a shot, anyway. Jeremy Kolodziejski Jeremy is younger than he looks, and has passionately studied the art and craft of filmmaking for as long as he can remember. He is currently a freelance wedding videographer, and is also heavily involved in Competitive Fighting Games. IG: jeremyko95 #Newsletter #Article #JeremyKolodziejski #Top10 #Bestof #Bestof2017 #2017

“We are born into a box of space and time. We are who and when and what we are and we're going to be that person until we die. But if we remain only that person, we will never grow, and we will never change and things will never get better. Movies are the most powerful empathy machine in all the arts. When I go to a great movie I can live somebody else's life for a while. I can walk in somebody else's shoes. I can see what it feels like to be a member of a different gender, a different race, a different economic class, to live in a different time, to have a different belief. This is a liberalizing influence on me. It gives me a broader mind. It helps me to join my family of men and women on this planet. It helps me to identify with them, so I'm not just stuck being myself, day after day.” -Roger Ebert My love of movies will always be a byproduct of my obsession with story. Anything with a good tale to it immediately strikes my interest, and I've spent a few years now exploring that feeling and the reasons behind such a connection to the stories we tell. The above quote by Roger Ebert accurately pinpoints one of the main attractions story has over me in that, it gives me the ability to see life through someone else's eyes, and have an experience even slightly different than my own, however fictionalized or distant it may seem. James Baldwin once wrote, “It was books that taught me that the things that tormented me most were the very things that connected me with all the people who were alive, or who had ever been alive.” And while literature (and music) allow for a certain type of escapism, it is film that sometimes incorporates all the senses of the body and soul to truly transport the imagination of an individual into something purely magical and different. Altogether fantasy, but as real as we let it become. Ryan Coogler is a director who not only understands the advantages of this specific type of cinematic brush, he is also swept up by its escapist sensibilities, even down to the simplest act of writing words on paper about people who don't exist, but whom we interact with every day. Coogler has recently received a plethora of fame due to the success of his most recent film, Black Panther , the latest installment in the ever-expanding MCU (Marvel Cinematic Universe), which now stands at an impressive 18 films with two more on the way this year alone. While the superhero flick is extraordinary for a variety of reasons, I have been a very big fan of the writer/director's work, and wanted to take some time to look at Coogler's career leading up to this unforgettable marker in cinematic history, as well as discuss why his films are so powerful. Ryan Kyle Coogler was born on May 23, 1986, (just twelve days after this very writer), in Oakland, California, (as far from this writer's birthplace as you can possibly get, in more ways than one). When he was eight, his mother, a community organizer and his father, a juvenile hall probation officer, relocated the family to Richmond, CA, where he started running track and playing football. As Coogler has stated, in his new home you either played football “or otherwise.” He described his childhood as one of constantly feeling as if he was stuck between two worlds: the private Catholic school of Saint Mary's College High where he attended, while living in a self-described “difficult” neighborhood. Playing football was a way for him to feel as if he truly fit in somewhere. Through the sport and a proficiency in math and science, he got himself a scholarship to Saint Mary's College of California, where he studied chemistry, with an eye on becoming a doctor. This is where it gets interesting, and we are afforded an artist's very own superhero origin story. At college, Coogler was required to take a creative writing course. An assignment to write a story about something emotional and personal eventually led to him being called in to meet with his professor. During the meeting, she asked Coogler the dreaded question: “What do you want to be when you grow up?” He told her about wanting to be a doctor to which she inquired, “Why?” As a Black 18-year old from the Bay Area, this was not a question Coogler was used to hearing. He contemplated for a moment, answering that he thought it would be a good way to help a lot of people, and make a good living while doing it. She told him his story, which he wrote for the previously mentioned assignment, was insanely captivating and moving, and that sort of raw talent is far more rare than his skills in math and science; she believed that he may be able to help even more people with his voice as a writer, than he could with his mind as a doctor. He returned to his dorm room, walls adorned with rap posters, and thought of all the books spanning his professor's walls. He liked books. He liked movies too. Why didn't he have any? A trip to Circuit City and $20 in his pocket led to a young Coogler picking up a special edition DVD copy of Quentin Tarantino's, Pulp Fiction (a copy this writer also owns and knows all too well), which included a CD-ROM file of the film's entire screenplay. Coogler read the script on his computer, copied the format onto his word processor, and began writing screenplays until 3am nightly. This would bring about a few years of short films, his first, Locks (2009), you can and most definitely should watch here . He eventually developed a script of the story of Oscar Grant, the 22-year old Black man who was shot and killed by a police officer in Oakland's Fruitvale BART station on the first day of 2009. Well-known actor and national treasure, Forest Whitaker, helped to produce the film and Coogler’s directorial debut, Fruitvale Station , was born. “What makes a human heart lose sheen to be a beast? It's compassion, light and love for the other.” -Bireswar Halder The story of Oscar Grant is a tumultuous one. Fruitvale Station (2013) sets out to dramatically cover his final twenty-four hours before meeting an unfortunate and tragic end on the platform of the titular train station. Coogler cast actor Michael B. Jordan as Oscar, (a collaboration the artists would continue on over the director's next two films). Jordan’s immersive performance and ability to charm has led to him becoming one of the most exciting and talented young actors working today, possessing an extraordinary range and those coveted leading-man chops. Jordan's approach to portraying the tragic young man, was based more on utilizing Oscar as a representation of a type of man living in this type of world, not necessarily a straight-up imitation of the man himself. A few of the scenes are fictionalized, (although, still quite breathtaking and emotional), expanding on who Oscar was, while painting a portrait of the character that represents what the themes of the movie are discussing, without ever exploiting the real man's life. People close to Oscar Grant contributed their impressions and memories of the man to help build the narrative and characteristics of his film version. Ryan Coogler found the threads of opposing views, stitching together the pieces of both the martyred victim, and that of the drug-dealing criminal, to find the man who loved and was loved, with an instinct to protect himself and those loved ones, but who was constantly being beaten by either his surroundings, the systems in control, or (more often than not) his own decisions. This is something everyone can connect with, especially when considering Oscar was merely 22-years old. These are emotions that can run parallel to anyone, and affect even the most reserved of emotional tendencies, regardless of the specific demographic differences between the viewer and Oscar. He messed up. A lot. He continued to mess up. At the beginning of his final day, he begins to understand how his actions are negatively affecting himself and others, the very thing he swore to protect them from. He sets out to course correct, slowly, naturally. He makes amends with those he has wronged, he helps those he may have neglected in the past, and he abandons his ill-advised plans to maintain security for his family, in favor of the unknown but morally just and hopeful. He's kind to strangers, going as far as giving his grandmother's fried fish recipe to a woman buying fish at the grocery store he was recently fired from. Were it not for the events at the train station in the film's final moments, Oscar may have been victorious in conquering his demons and becoming the man everyone around him knew he could be. Speaking of the film's final moments, once we reach the train, ho boy, do things start to get tense quick. It is an amazing emotional roller coaster of pacing, brought to full force agitation at the arrival of Kevin Durand's ( LOST, 3:10 to Yuma ) Officer Caruso, whose presence is immediately showcased to be one of “the shit has hit the fan.” A towering, intimidating man, he is the stand-in for the real life bogeyman that is the American police officer: one situated in a position of power, protected by laws far beyond the ones he is employed to uphold, and far too comfortable in enabling tactics of both instigation and misdirection to achieve his desired results in any situation. If there was ever a more terrifying portrayal of this harsh truth, I challenge you to find it. When the gunshot finally rings, it brings a devastating halt to the tense escalation that has been over-boiling for what feels like an eternity. In this moment, after spending Oscar's last day with him, after coming to understand and truly see what kind of person he is, time is slowed, both for himself and his friends, as well as the audience. We are faced with one of the worst possible outcomes to these events. Hope is ripped out from under our feet and Oscar, as well as we and all the people on the platform, are powerless to do anything to change it, restricted to being made to watch as the horrific inevitability of an all too familiar scenario continues to consume us. To not feel the pain of such an act is to be truly lost. “You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” -Maya Angelou Coogler's next project landed him in some decent spotlight, as he attempted to bring to life his idea to reboot the Rocky franchise by injecting it with a fresh take, while layering it in the things that make the series of boxing movies so special. Up front, I will proudly admit that I am a huge Rocky fan and Creed (2015), is undoubtedly one of the best of the series. Hell, I think it's one of the greatest movies made in the past 10 years. Utilizing the eyes of cinematographer, Maryse Alberti, (who had previously worked on the beautiful looking film, The Wrestler ), Coogler brings a grit and realism to the underdog story that is the first in the series to nail the look and tone of the original 1976 film. Sylvester Stallone returns to his greatest role to knock it right out of the park. His previous installment, Rocky Balboa, showcased the actor's abilities to tune back in to one of the most popular fictional characters of all time, and still bring emotional depth to his story of perseverance and determination in the face of a world that seems set against him. That's what all the Rocky movies at their core have always been about: a fighter constantly fighting against everything in his life, including himself. As Rocky said plainly and simply, as always, in the highly underrated Rocky III , “Nothing is real if you don't believe in who you are.” Creed takes these themes and pushes them further than they've ever gone before, making the internal fight of our hero, Adonis Johnson, the true climactic battle in a film filled with boxing rounds. Coogler takes the entire canon of tropes associated with the previous installments and subverts them to reflect his new vision of a fighter in Philly, seemingly fighting for nothing, but in actuality fighting against everything. Because, you see, Creed is more like other Rocky movies than you may think. None of the movies are really about boxing. Whether it's learning how to be a father, losing father figures, building trust with those previously seen as enemies, fighting for the right to do the one thing that makes you happy and that you know you're good at, or even just giving a good scratch to that Cold War itch the American psyche was feeling at the time, the movies are always more concerned with exploring these ideas than they are with getting to the next boxing match. Creed is about a man looking for a father figure, and coming to terms with his own understandings of being considered a mistake, made long ago by his legend father, Apollo Creed, one of the greatest fighters of all time. The film also finds Rocky Balboa, the series' previous hero, alone. He is as lost as he was in the very first few scenes of the original film. Rocky’s wife is gone, his family is gone, and his friends are few, (if you can even consider them friends). He too, is looking for a way to reconcile his sadness and pain, even if it is by finally joining his loved ones in the death that seems to finally be approaching. But the true star of Creed is Michael B. Jordan, playing Adonis Johnson. He and Coogler construct a character of such moral depth and sadness, that we can feel his self-imposed isolation strangling him and pushing him in the wrong direction. His underdog story is quite different from Rocky's, which is interesting given the demographics at play. In the original film, Rocky is poor, desperate, (and respectfully), not very bright. Boxing, the one thing he does well, is really his only opportunity to live a meaningful life. Alternatively, Adonis is adopted by his father's widow, who is quite wealthy, allowing him to have a very nurtured upbringing in an environment free from the complications of his childhood (going in and out of juvenile detention centers for getting into fights). He has a loving mother figure, a great education and even starts out the film in a very successful job, for which he had just received an important promotion. In short, the kid is hardly down on his luck. But these things are not important to him. He wants to prove himself, (unknowingly at first), to his dead father, to prove that he is worthy of being a part of that legacy. To prove to everyone in the world, but specifically himself, that he is not a mistake; his quest to legitimize his very existence and his lot in life, is emotionally crushing and uproariously soul-lifting, all at once. As Story Screen's resident “Daddy-Issues-Savant,” this movie really took me for a loop. Take that, and add the fact that it is yet another thrilling entry into one of my favorite film franchises, constantly pressing that, “Cry, you little baby,” button in well-deserved and believable ways, and Creed becomes a master class in building empathy with the audience. One of Creed's greatest strengths is that it works as its own movie entirely, while also servicing fans of the series, both intimately and intellectually. It is gut wrenching, heart breaking, and thought provoking, absorbingly tender and charismatically enjoyable on every level. It is especially so in its depiction of the sensual and intimate relationship that develops between Jordan's Adonis and Tessa Thompson's Bianca, whose story line is just as representative and emotionally uplifting as our main protagonist’s. “Bury me in the ocean with my ancestors who jumped from ships, cause they knew death was better than bondage.” -Erik “N'Jadaka” Stevens, AKA Killmonger Coogler's next film was the aforementioned Marvel joint, Black Panther , which catapulted his famed talents into worldwide recognition. Utilizing a nearly all Black cast, the film broke expectations of what a blockbuster movie can be, retrofitting the Sci-fi epic with Afro-futuristic design and a commentary on the racial divide felt not only in America, but also throughout the world. While my love of story and desire to connect with characters on-screen led me to become emotionally invested in the arcs and themes found within both Fruitvale Station and Creed , Black Panther presents a different, more specific route of connecting with Black culture and the ideas of diaspora which are permanently instilled in the African American experience. As I was writing this article, I was afraid that in explaining my appreciation and admiration of Black Panther , and how it furthers the discussion of the representation of African Americans in cinema, that my opinions may inadvertently and unintentionally come across as exploitative or even encouraging appropriation in some critical way; “whitesplaining” as some would call it. I was hesitant beyond measure, and I wanted to be mindful and to keep a diligent amount of grace and respect for the topics that are heavily involved, not only in discussing the film, but in really experiencing it in the way it was intended to be by the director and artists behind it. I spoke with a close friend of mine and contributor to this site, Ali T. Muhammad , about these tentative and unsure thoughts and his advice was encouraging and simple: he told me he loved me, that he trusted me and that as a person who thinks the way I do I should write my truth and be honest on how the movie made me feel. It was once written that, “It is a privilege to learn about racism instead of experiencing it your whole life.” The challenges of being aware of racial injustices, (however small or grand they may be), can be difficult for those who are not used to, or in fact required to, face them. This is precisely what many institutions have worked very hard to achieve. But by building these bridges of communication, understanding and empathy, we can see that we are all superheroes together. Just as T'Challa, our hero behind the mask of the Black Panther, says in the film's final moments, “The wise build bridges while the foolish build barriers.” It is an obvious and poignant analogy for the divisive times we find ourselves in these past few years. There is an amazing article, written by a friend of friend, Nicki Salcedo, for the Atlanta Loop , that I think perfectly communicates just what Black Panther does for African American audiences: "Everything changed this weekend when I went to see 'Black Panther.' I decorated my face like Princess Shuri. I walked into a movie theater and closed my eyes. When I woke up, I was in Wakanda. I was there on the screen. I was the child grieving over the death of my father. I was the mother worried about the fate of her children. I was the spy willing to hold my love’s hand as he grieved. I was the sister. Silly and smart and best friend. I was the warrior who thinks her country is worth fighting for. I was the villain who dreams of fighting back and rising up. I am the friend who makes mistakes. I am the neighbor who might take you in when you have fallen." I highly recommend checking out the full article as I think it really is one of the sweetest reviews of the film's power and impact on today's society that you are likely to come by. Black Panther stands as a significant moment for the Black community, even if it is merely a stepping-stone towards a more representative Hollywood, both in front of and behind the camera. Coogler's film has a Black Executive Producer, a Black Costume Designer, a Black Production Designer and an original Hip-hop album, created specifically for the film by a Black artist, Kendrick Lamar, which also showcases the talents of many other artists of color throughout its 14 tracks. The film stands as proof that a story featuring a more diverse cast than what we are typically used to in big budget blockbusters is an immensely powerful act of supporting marginalized communities. As the film closes, T'Challa stands in front of a young Black boy in the streets of Oakland, who asks him who he is. This is a slight call back to the closing moment of Marvel's first film, Iron Man , where Tony Stark stands before the press and announces unabashedly, that he is Iron Man. This scene, however, cuts to black before our hero can respond, because he is not just the Black Panther; he is possibility. He is the promise of hope and change and strength made physical, an embodiment of a hero that looks like so many children around the world, telling them that they too can be strong, that they too are important, that they too matter. This is the sentiment at the core of why representation is so vital to the well-being of all marginalized cultures and communities. It is the proactive act of fighting back against a system, one that seems designed to perpetuate the 100% false assumption that class should be based on race, gender, sexual orientation or any other demographic. It is using art as a political statement to fight back with cultural celebration in the form of a blockbuster movie event that is part of one of the largest and most successful film franchises of all time. Also, it's a really good movie! Black Panther utilizes the action and heart that Marvel has come to be known for, enthralling us with an original new world within the one we've spent quite some time in over that past ten years. Our hero T’Challa, is given a classic lesson to learn through the events of the movie, one that has hung above the great superhero tales of old: Peter Parker/Spider-Man's life motto, gifted to him by his Uncle Ben, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Wakanda's highly advanced technology, a by-product of centuries spent developing different uses for the Vibranium that is found only in their country's area, has led their civilization to flourish. Even though their isolationist ideals has left Wakandans undamaged by the colonization that has historically ravaged the rest of their side of world, it has also held them back from helping those in need. T'Challa learns, (through the story’s villain), revelations of a haunted past that both his family and his country have kept hidden, even from its own people. He learns that using Wakanda’s technology, not only to help his people and people like them, but the world as a whole, is the only choice a good man can make when faced with the atrocities that seem to plague most corners of the Earth. This is precisely what Killmonger, the aforementioned “villain” of the film, seeks to accomplish throughout the story, only he goes about it in a much more insidious way, his end goals being a bit more intense and aggressive than simply achieving world peace. While the film opens with T'Challa wanting to carry on with tradition in his new role as King of Wakanda, Killmonger seeks to use Wakanda's resources and technology to arm Black people worldwide, giving them a chance to balance the scales in the war being waged on them by the powerful. He even goes so far as to claim that Wakanda’s weapons might even allow their culture to rise above those who have previously oppressed them, forcing the current “masters of the world,” into the role of the subservient. Killmonger’s abandonment by his own people, and the soon-to-follow abusive nature of his upbringing in America, has filled him with a contempt and rage that many people watching the film will know all too well. This is why you see so many people writing articles and tweets about how “King Killmonger” was right. To be clear, he isn't; he is viciously lashing out at anything that he can direct his well-honed targets at, ultimately becoming a twisted version of both him, and the tyrannical forces that have suppressed him and those like him for centuries. But, like, we get it. The dude's pissed off, and has every right to be. It can be hard to choose between the two key figures of a classic adage: “How shall we achieve the prosperity and equality we desire? By the sword, or by the extension of the hand?” Both kings are correct in their approach to how Wakanda can best service both themselves and the world, it's just that they are each on extreme opposite sides of where the true approach resides. If you have the power to help, and you do nothing, you are culpable to the events of the situation. Is genocide the way to go? Absolutely not. But hiding from the troubles of the world will never solve anything, and the world has tons of problems it needs to work out. Also, I don't really think Killmonger had a real plan for after all the weapons were dispersed to his people across the globe. I can't really see that guy leading a new frontier into the future, or at least not one I'd want to be a part of anyway. He kinda just wants to blow stuff up and get some of that sweet tasting vengeance. Helping to bring about a Black revolution on a global scale is a reasonable and ultimately, good thing to strive for, but his methods are toxic and his vision is blinded by the wrongs that have undoubtedly been done to him. On the topic of Killmonger, Michael B. Jordan hits it out of the park again. Much of his villain's relatability comes from Jordan's charismatic performance, featuring equal moments of viciousness and vulnerability, creating a character that we may be rooting against, but still fully understand and at times, sympathize with. This element, of both writing and performance, is key to creating some of the best cinematic bad guy's we've ever been lucky enough to have grace our screens. Couple that with our big bad basically operating as a mirror for our hero T’Challa, forcing each of them to reconsider their own morals and virtues, and you've got yourself a damn good antagonist. Coogler's film also gives us an immensely needed course correction as far as gender representation goes, gifting us with four strong, smart, loving and capable women who are every bit as important and heroic as our male protagonist. These are not characters simply designed to back up T'Challa, giving him moral support and some super cool gadgets. His mother, Ramonda, played by Angela Bassett, is a guiding force of courage and protection, a symbol to all Wakandans of unity and civility. Danai Gurira plays Okoye, the General of Wakanda’s elite group of female bodyguards, the Dora Milaje. She matches T'Challa's warrior abilities and virtuous demeanor, always putting the Kingdom of Wakanda's safety above her own. Lupita Nyong'o plays Nakia, a former love of T'Challa, who left the security of Wakanda's borders to help those around the world who could not fight for themselves. But the rock star of the group is most definitely Letitia Wright as T'Challa's younger and way funnier sister, Shuri. She steals every scene she is in, landing jokes and moments of key exposition with ease, making this writer very excited to see her again in just a few months, when she returns as the tech-savvy lil’ sis with a heart of gold in Avengers: Infinity War. Ryan Coogler has given us three wholly different films in his professional career that spans a mere five years: a hypnotic and realistic look at a man doomed to always be under the boot of a system designed to keep him where he is, a reboot/sequel to one of the most iconic film franchises of all time, that also acts as a meditation on self-worth and building a family when we feel as though we have no one left. And a big budget, record-breaking-blockbuster-hype-machine that gives the popcorn eaters their money's worth while also delving into ideas of repressive rage, the impacts of colonization, historical racism, and still acts as a celebration of and loving tribute to Black culture, all while completely changing the game of what audiences (and studios) consider blockbuster cinematic spectacles to be. This guy is doing very, very good work, and we should all be very, very excited about what he's going to give us for the rest of his surely long and poignant career. Mike Burdge Editor-in-Chief Founder of and programmer for Story Screen. Lover of stories and pizza in the dark. When he isn't watching movies, you can find him reading things about people watching movies. He lives in Beacon, NY with his cat who is named after Kevin Bacon's character from Friday the 13th. #Newsletter #Article #RyanCoogler #February2018 #MikeBurdge #RogerEbert #FruitvaleStation #Creed #BlackPanther #Killmonger #MichaelBJordan #Rocky