Brandon is a regular joe living in Kansas City. He's working on watching and reviewing some of the best movies of all time. When he's not reviewing movies, he's working on websites, playing music, and writing about all sorts of things. You can see more of his stuff at brandongregorycreative.com
In Western culture, anime is largely known for frenetic action sequences and ridiculously powerful characters. I’ll admit, I’m not the biggest fan of fighting anime, although I’ve covered one before. But anime is a medium, and it’s used to tell all kinds of stories, including high school dramas and romances—dramatic anime tend to pique my interest far more than Super Saiyan antics. The Girl Who Leapt Through Time is a mix of teen drama, harrowing tale of personal responsibility, time travel story, and a bit of understated but very significant romance that was a joy to watch. Directed by Mamoru Hosoda (Summer Wars, Wolf Children), this is based on a popular series of novels in Japan that had actually seen numerous film adaptations, and this film is actually more of a sequel than an adaptation, as the protagonist of the original series is actually the aunt of the protagonist in this film, and the film references her stories a bit. It’s an interesting film that does drama well and really captures the awkwardness of the teenage years in a way that even non-anime fans will probably relate to.
Please be aware that there will be some big spoilers in this review, as I think an explanation and interpretation of the film and its ending is necessary for talking about why I liked it.
“I learned something from these two men. I learned to give love and get love unconditionally. You just have to accept people for what they are. And I learned the greatest gift of all: the saddest thing in life is wasted talent, and the choices that you make will shape your life forever.”
Crime dramas have been trying to show the gritty realness of the criminal world since, well, always, but it’s rare to have a crime boss that’s portrayed as a genuinely good person, even one that grows to be a better person by learning how to love more. That formula is not an easy one to execute, but A Bronx Tale managed to do just that. Directed by Robert De Niro (yes, that Robert De Niro) and starring Lillo Brancato, Robert De Niro, and Chazz Palminteri, this is a story about love and family just as much as it’s about crime and brutality, and it balances these two opposite ideas very carefully, even more effectively than the original crime family movie, The Godfather. It does this by showing us not a career criminal or family member, but a boy growing up in the Bronx, learning life lessons from both the local crime boss and his working-man father, who refuses to have anything to do with the criminal world. Seeing this teenage boy try to make sense of the two different worlds he lives in is a big part of the unique charm of this film.
“You know what kind of plan never fails? No plan. No plan at all. You know why? Because life cannot be planned.”
There was a lot of buzz in 2019 about Parasite, but I didn’t get a chance to see it until recently. I will say, it is every bit as great as the buzz makes it out to be. Directed by Bong Joon Ho (Okja, Snowpiercer) and starring Kang-ho Song, Sun-kyun Lee, and Yeo-jeong Jo, this South Korean dramatic thriller makes a powerful statement on wealth, class, and inequality. The story is complex, without clear antagonists and even protagonists (I really wasn’t sure who I should be rooting for in some spots), and we’re instead shown how unfair life can be for those without the good fortune to be born in the right places and families. The film has the neutrality of a good documentary, showing us the interesting and sometimes shocking events without making a strong comment on who’s right and who’s wrong. This is a film that left me thinking for long after the credits rolled, even days after I viewed the film.
“Frank, let’s face it. Who can trust a cop who don’t take money?”
There’s a whole sub-genre of movies about people who stand up for the right thing even when everyone else in their lives doesn’t care. Serpico, directed by Sidney Lumet (12 Angry Men, Murder on the Orient Express) and starring Al Pacino, takes that formula, but it does what few other movies like this dare to do: it’s not afraid to be messy, morally gray, and frustrating. If the combination of Lumet, Pacino, and a morally complex plot based on a true story sounds familiar, it’s because these things came together again in 1975 for Dog Day Afternoon—a testament to how well they worked in this film. Serpico shows us the harsh reality of a world where, even in the police force, morality is not so clearly divided into good guys and bad guys, and the struggle to do the right thing can be painfully tedious.
“Fasten your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy night!”
All About Eve was one of those films I’d always heard about, but had never seen. It’s revered as a classic film, and set a record for number of Oscar nominations (14) that was not matched for 47 years and has never been surpassed. It’s widely regarded as one of the smartest films of its time. Watching it for the first time in 2020, I wondered how it would hold up without the rose-colored lens of nostalgia to help me view it. I’m happy to say this is absolutely still a great film, and it lives up to the hype. Directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz (Cleopatra, A Letter to Three Wives) and starring Bette Davis and Anne Baxter, this is a film with great performances, a smart script, and some intriguing commentary on Hollywood that’s stood the test of time.
“Criminal lawyers see bad people at their best; divorce lawyers see good people at their worst.”
There are many films that tell entertaining or compelling stories, but there are far fewer that are so real that they hurt. Marriage Story, directed by Noah Baumbach (The Squid and the Whale, Frances Ha) and starring Adam Driver and Scarlett Johansson, is definitely real enough to hurt. It’s a story of a divorce—and Baumbach has done a so-real-it-hurts divorce movie before in The Squid and the Whale, but, where that one was emotionally brutal, this story has that raw emotional brutality, but it’s tempered with love and a touch of humor (there are a few laugh-out-loud funny scenes) that keep it from getting too depressing. So couple a smart script with what are perhaps the best performances of the two leads’ careers and you get an outstanding dramatic film on par with some of the hardest-hitting classics out there.
“This didn’t put an end to shit, you fucking retard! This is just the fucking start! Why don’t you put that on your Good Morning Missouri fucking wake-up broadcast, bitch?”
In the cinema world, even in films without action and adventure, we’re accustomed to heroes and villains. We have films with complex villains, problematic romantic leads, and even adventures without any discernible villains, but the audience just instinctively knows who to root for and who to jeer against. Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, directed by Martin McDonagh (In Bruges, Seven Psychopaths) and starring Frances McDormand and Sam Rockwell, is different because it sets itself up as very black and white, with a slighted middle-aged woman and an angry, racist cop, but the film’s narrative goes to some interesting places and it really makes audiences question who they’re rooting for, and why. It’s also a solid, smart drama with effective darkly comedic elements. This is a film that gripped me, but left me thinking for a long time after the credits rolled, and that’s not an easy thing to do.
“Nowadays, young people, they don’t know who Jimmy Hoffa was. They don’t have a clue. I mean, maybe they know that he disappeared or something, but that’s about it. But back then, there wasn’t nobody in this country who didn’t know who Jimmy Hoffa was.”
The crime genre is a prolific one, with many masterpieces already on my list. Among crime film directors, Martin Scorsese (Taxi Driver, Goodfellas) is royalty. So when it was announced that Scorsese, now nearing the end of his career, would be making another crime epic with acting legends Al Pacino, Robert De Niro, and Joe Pesci (who came out of retirement for this film), film buffs collectively lost their shit. With Scorsese, Pacino, De Niro, and Pesci having so many great films to their names but nearing the end of their careers (and, let’s face it, nearing the end of their lives), this will probably be the last time we see this director and these actors put out a film like this. The Irishman is a fond farewell to those great crime films we grew up with and loved, and it’s fitting that it deals with aging career criminals coming to terms with their lives of crime and violence. We’ve seen great human depictions of criminals, most notably in The Godfather and its sequels, but there hasn’t been an in-depth look at what happens when these criminals start aging out of the systems they created. That’s a gap The Irishman fills, and it does a brilliant job of it.
“Did you ever have to find a way to survive, and you knew your choices were bad—but you had to survive?”
Most films go heavy on plot and light on characters, but I have to admit, I’m a sucker for strong characters even when the plot is not stellar. American Hustle, directed by David O. Russell (Silver Linings Playbook, I Heart Huckabees) and featuring an amazing all-star cast including Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Bradley Cooper, and Jennifer Lawrence, has amazing characters and performances, even if the plot meanders a bit more than it should. It’s also a ton of fun and a great slice of authentic 70s goodness, even though it came out in 2013. Every character, from the con man to his distant wife of convenience to his brilliant mistress and partner in crime to the overzealous FBI agent, has more vices than virtues, but they’re so complex and fleshed-out that I found myself mesmerized by the characters interacting on screen. If you want a complex and brilliant plot, go watch Chinatown; but if you want a fun film with great characters and style, look no further than American Hustle.
In film, lesbians have almost always gotten the short end of the stick. On the one hand, you have the stereotypical butch lesbians, who exist as jokes; on the other hand, you have the stereotypical sexy lesbians, which exist mainly for the entertainment of men. Very rarely do you see a lesbian character in film that’s neither a joke nor a set piece, and when you do see a smartly-written lesbian character, she’s usually a background character with little bearing on the plot. That’s why the 2015 film Carol is so important. Directed by one of the pioneers of the New Queer Cinema, Todd Haynes (Velvet Goldmine, Far From Heaven) and starring Rooney Mara and Cate Blanchett, this is a smart romance between two women in the 1950s—a time that was not accepting of two women falling in love, but also a time that didn’t really accept the livelihood of women without men. The hardships they face are as big a part of the plot as the romance itself, and this is a touching but also heartbreaking tale of two women trying to find love.