'Vice' Review

Nominated For: Best Picture, Best Director; Adam McKay, Best Actor; Christian Bale, Best Supporting Actor; Sam Rockwell, Best Supporting Actress; Amy Adams, Best Original Screenplay, Best Film Editing, and Best Makeup and Hairstyling.

Won: Best Makeup and Hairstyling.

Vice explores the epic story about how a bureaucratic Washington insider quietly became the most powerful man in the world as Vice-President to George W. Bush, reshaping the country and the globe in ways that we still feel today. 

Written and directed by Academy Award-winner Adam McKay, Vice is McKay's seventh directorial feature. Before 2015, McKay was mostly known for writing and directing mainstream comedies starring Will Ferrell such as Anchorman, Step Brothers, Talladega Nights, and The Other Guys. Then he made The Big Short and wound up winning the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay while the film received a total of five nominations including Best Picture and Best Director. Tasked with explaining the housing market crash of the late 2000s, McKay simplified matters via fourth wall breaks, symbolism, celebrity cameos, and so much more. Clearly, the switch-up worked well for McKay though, so it's not surprising he'd carry that style over to Vice. However, this time he's wholly demolished the fourth wall and dialed everything up to an eleven. So, chances are, you'll hate this film if you weren't a fan of The Big Short. Vice is already proving to be quite divisive amongst critics and audiences alike, but that should be expected given the political subject matter. Some may feel offended by McKay's twisted satire while others may think he didn't go far enough. 

Whatever the case may be, I'm not easily offended or all that interested in political rhetoric, so I personally wasn't bothered by any of McKay's creative decisions. In fact, I can't help but respect McKay's ambition due to the twisted, subversive route which Vice explores alongside its audience. Vice has little in common with traditional biographical pictures, and that was so refreshing to witness. Usually, bio-pics are a favorite of the Academy, so I wind up watching a few every year, but they rarely surprise me or differentiate from what's come before concerning narrative structure and style. There's nothing wrong with following a formula or abiding by a proven approach, but I'll be much more likely to admire bolder technique than something I've seen a thousand times before. McKay really swings for the fences with lacking subtlety, risky comedic gags, and some very inspired editing choices. While I wouldn't necessarily say every risk paid off, I found the dark comedy to be hilarious and the film to be more entrancing as it went on. 

McKay's method of presentation maintains a brisk momentum to what could have otherwise been a dull look at the life of Dick Cheney and his rise to unprecedented power. Just when you're expecting drawn-out dialogue, McKay cuts away. In spite of breezy pacing and humor, McKay upholds a degree of seriousness and grounds his depiction of Cheney somewhere between the extremes of caricature and a sympathetic lead. He's humanized to an extent but still seen as evil by the camera. In one particular fourth-wall break, Cheney provides his own justification for his actions, though the film doesn't concede to his viewpoint. One audience member left at that point, and if you're thinking this film seems to skew far too left, don't worry... McKay's well aware and calls himself and the audience out in a bonkers post-credits scene that I considered a riot (this will contribute to the film's polarized reception more than anything else). 

Regarding production quality, cinematographer Greig Fraser makes effective use of shadows and low-lighting, Nicholas Britell offers a varied set of compositions in his score, and the production design's excellent while the hair and makeup work is extraordinary, going a long way to transform the illustrious ensemble convincingly. Also, as a brief side-note, the events in Vice are clearly embellished and exaggerated for comedic effect so don't expect a historically accurate glimpse into Cheney's life. The filmmakers acknowledge as much with an opening title card that informs the audience Cheney was a secretive man so they "tried their f*cking best." I just went along for the ride with an open mind.

Elevating Vice from an experimental passion project to a serious awards contender, Christian Bale's once again committed wholeheartedly to physically transforming himself for a role. Over the years, Bale has gone through cycles of intentional weight loss and gain to better embody his characters, just look to The Machinist, The Dark Knight Trilogy, and American Hustle for evidence of this. It's surely an unhealthy practice, and Bale's recently acknowledged that it's beginning to catch up with him as he enters his late forties. Bale slips into the guise of Cheney like it's nothing and perfectly replicated his vocal mannerisms, steely gaze, and cold composure. Matching Bale beat-for-beat is counterpart chameleon actress Amy Adams. As Lynne Cheney, Adams only gained about 12-15 pounds in comparison to Bale's approximated 40-pound pack-on, but she wears the conniving Lynne Cheney persona like a glove. Their devious dynamic and calculated scheming behind-the-scenes in Washington D.C. was a fascinating and unnerving background element which enhanced the film's shady atmosphere. Both performances are well deserving of their current awards buzz, and I hope the momentum translates to Oscar nominations for the two of them at the very least. 

Amongst the stellar supporting cast, Sam Rockwell, Steve Carell, Tyler Perry, and Jesse Plemons all put forth solid performances. Rockwell channels the dopier side George W. Bush to great comedic effect, and Tyler Perry plays Colin Powell as very straight-faced. It honestly took me a while to view Donald Rumsfeld as anything other than Carell in extensive makeup, but as the film went on, that notion disappeared. Lastly, I wouldn't dare spoil Plemons role, but that will prove divisive to many as well. As for me, I personally dug it and considered it to be an interesting framing device. 

Vice is without a doubt the 2018 release vying for the title of the most creative feature, brimming with nuanced black comedy most filmmakers wouldn't dare poke with a twenty-foot-long stick. Not every component sticks the landing, but those which do, further contribute to the film's fascinating storytelling approach in a satisfying manner. 

Film Assessment: A

'Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri' Review

[This review was originally written in December 2017 and is now being published that my internship is over. For an explanation of this, visit my Fall 2017 Important Update post.] 

Nominated For: Best Picture, Best Actress; Francis McDormand, Best Supporting Actor; Sam Rockwell, Best Supporting Actor; Woody Harrelson, Best Original Screenplay, Best Film Editing, and Best Original Score.
Won: Best Actress; Francis McDormand and Best Supporting Actor; Sam Rockwell.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri posts itself seven months after the awful abduction, rape, and death of Mildred Hayes' daughter, Angela Hayes. The police have yet to find the culprit responsible, so Hayes decides enough is enough, and purchases three billboards outside the small town of Ebbing, Missouri painted with accusatory messages towards the town's cherished chief of police, Willoughby. Naturally, Mildred's billboards stir up quite a bit of controversy amongst the townspeople so conflict brews between Mildred and the Ebbing Police.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is written and directed by Martin McDonagh, and the film handles grief over family tragedy quite differently than last year's Oscar winning tear jerker, Manchester By The Sea (I probably drew a connection because of the shared casting of Lucas Hedges as well as the similarity of a protagonist struggling with grief over the loss of a child). Where Manchester By The Sea used solemn subtlety to steer its ship, Three Billboards wields overt anger, but thats not necessarily a bad thing. McDonagh has constructed a dark comedy that rides a very narrow line between being somber and hysterical while telling a worthwhile story detailing the adverse effects of anger. Despite the surrounding stigma of being a dark comedy, Three Billboards never undermines moments of drama or tension for a cheap laugh. This isn't Thor: Ragnarok folks... Oops did I let that slip... McDonagh lets dramatic moments breathe, invoking the necessary gravity and seriousness to leave an impression on audiences.

If you're easily offended by callous humor, this may not be the movie for you though. Characters in McDonagh's screenplay are completely uncensored and will say or do things that are incredibly uncomfortable to watch, in the sense that their actions are reprehensible. At first, you will be so shocked at what you've just seen and unsure of whether you should laugh or not, but as the shock value wears away, you'll realize that what you're seeing is actually hilarious in a seriously screwed up sense. That's not to say every erroneous decision made by these characters warrants a chuckle, but there were some messed up moments that had me dying of laughter because of their inherent awkwardness or because they caught me by surprise, and Three Billboards sure is full of surprises.

While Three Billboards accommodates for infinite unforeseen events, these character's don't just spring up out of left field and decide to do something unexpected for absolutely no reason. The causation of these unanticipated events is deeply rooted inside the film as reactionary endeavors in response to something else and you can clearly connect a correlation between each string of misdemeanors, which is precisely why I think McDonagh's screenplay is so fantastic. Everything about it feels realistic. Abrupt things happen, but a practical point of origin always exists. When you watch Three Billboards, you won't think to yourself that you're watching authenticated drama. Instead it feels like you're watching a few days of an actual small town struggle because you never know how things are going to play out.

In fact, almost every character in Three Billboards operates in a gray area. You won't watch and condone Mildred's actions because, quite frankly, her methods are mistaken, and I can't tell you how refreshing it was to see such a flawed protagonist. Mildred's motivations are intrinsically righteous, as she seeks justice for her daughter's killer, but her crude way of going about things is fallacious, not to mention unlawful at times. On the flip-side, there is Sam Rockwell's foul-mouthed racist Officer Dixon. Typically, there's no redemption imaginable for such a character, but I'm surprised to say Dixon's arc was my favorite.

In the beginning, these characters are placed on two opposite ends of a spectrum. Mildred's way of going about things seems ideal and Dixon is despicable at first, but it's their journey towards the other side that effectively emphasizes McDonagh's character study. McDonagh considers the differing results stemmed from approaching situations with unchecked anger and a hateful attitude as opposed to a compassionate demeanor, and he takes great care to ensure everything he has to say about love and anger isn't lost on audiences.

Three Billboards even ticks off all the technical boxes as as it's well-directed, well-shot, and well-edited. It's a competently made film, so there's no weak links in any of those departments. However, the categories that stood out to me most, as being awards worthy, were the hair & makeup (for reasons I can't get into without spoiling the film) and the score composed by Carter Burwell. Burwell's score intelligently incorporates a Spaghetti Western sound, a soulful ditty, and a marching beat that all eventually intertwine as Mildred progresses on her path to see justice. Burwell's themes not only make for insightful accompaniment, but also offer a swell, pleasant sound in and of themselves.

The film's ensemble firmly stand as one of the year's best casts with familiar faces all around, including the likes of Caleb Landry Jones and Lucas Hedges (who each have had a extraordinary year appearing in fantastic films like Get Out, American Made, and Lady Bird). Leading the charge, Francis McDormand forms Mildred with a hardened, human interpretation of bitterness and anger in the face of grief. She's committed to her cause and she won't let anyone stand in her way. It's authentic, raw, and truly one of the best performances from a lead actress all year.

As the well-intentioned Willoughby, Woody Harrelson is provided a ripe role to display his incredible acting range. Harrelson exceptionally imbues pain and tragedy under an outward exuberance, and it's truly terrific. However, it was Sam Rockwell who most surprised me. I'm used to seeing Rockwell play more likable characters, and seeing him step into the shoes of a scumbag was jarring to say the least. This role could have easily became an offensive stereotype in the hands of a less-skilled actor, but Rockwell makes it work and carries the character's compelling arc to fruition.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri simply speaks volumes about how unchecked aggression can ravage the most noble cause, and unfortunately, it's a message many need to hear right now.

Film Assessment: A