Parasite - and the Architect Auteur

I had the great pleasure of watching Parasite by Bong Joon Ho at the Landmark last night with my cousin. Of his previous films I’ve seen The Host, Snowpiercer, and Okja while my cousin had seen his 2003 film Memories of Murder (as well as Okja, but not the others). So, we had an interesting and varied view on Ho’s work and style. Personally, I had always seen him as a tonally unique genre-bender who got into crazy world-building (chemical monster, apocalyptic future, apocalyptic nearer-future) to comment on society. But having seen Parasite I can now say he is much more than that – having wrought a story that Hitchcock would be proud of, to say the least. I’ll try not to get too spoiler-y about the film since it is recently released, but I will say that this is a film absolutely best enjoyed if you go in knowing nothing. So do yourself a favor and don’t read on if you haven’t seen it yet.

All I’ll concretely say about the movie is that it’s a seemingly straightforward story about a poor family trying to swindle their way into all being hired by a rich family. And then things turn southwards as they’re want to do. I was delightfully and frightfully surprised, especially going into the second half of the movie, practically every ten minutes. Ho seamlessly brings the story from dry comedy to absurd comedy to thriller to horror and then to something else entirely. He was an auteur to me before I saw this film, but of a certain niche and style. I can now say that Ho is an auteur of a more universal quality. By universal quality, I mean that his scenes and story and choices can pretty much be emotionally accessed by anyone – and yet he strikes at the core of an idea, or a facet of society, that no one has examined in the way he has.

But to add yet another category of auteur to this rant, I’ll label Boon Jong Ho an “architect auteur”. Other filmmakers in this totally made up category are Michael Haneke, Yorgos Lanthimos, Lynne Ramsay, Robert Bresson to an extent. All these creators are auteurs because they create their own visual style, their own world mechanics, and tell distinct narratives. But to me they are architects because they value a concerted thesis at the core of their films above all else. Whatever that thesis statement is, invariably about society or human nature, their entire film grows from that point – for the sake of building to make that point. And strangely, miraculously even, their dialogue and style specifically break rules meant to keep the audience interested – all in the name their thesis. Their films can be bare, essential, totally unrealistic, awkward, jarring, and almost never “comforting” – but they have a point, and they prove their point logically, intellectually and emotionally.

I guess what set me down this line of thought in the first place was the dialogue in Parasite. I found myself thinking that the dialogue was never “great” – it certainly wasn’t bad, but it didn’t have much flair or shock built into the style of the conversations themselves. What’s more, the dialogue had a slightly comedic, stilted, and silly tone to it (most of the time). It felt like a way more subtle and grounded cousin to Lanthimos’ films – which are so detached from humanity it becomes instantly absurd. Haneke’s come to mind too – a certain serious sterility that forces you to really look at what the characters are saying and why, rather than be distracted by innate empathy to people in (usually) dire circumstances.

Each scene builds towards a point Ho is making, several points really. And sometimes the dialogue feels repetitive, or downright boring, but his filmmaking is so brilliant that you set it aside in the moment, still rapt in the overall momentum of the story. But then, when the truly insane turns of the plot come to pass – you realize the point of those scenes from before, the ones that trained your eye to something other than the conversation, were just as essential to the climax as anything. To me, the architect auteur has an unabashed intent to design the story to their ultimate purpose and will bravely pursue it with choices that may make their story seem pared away or sub-optimal. But just as they are training your eye to see what they want you to see, and how to see it—they are also training your mind to learn their sense of logic, their private way of looking at the world. And with Parasite, Ho leaves you looking at the stratified structure of modern society through his lens. And it is shocking, true, and brilliantly entertaining all at once.

Brick Moon Fiction - "Let's Get Small"

I’ve posted a permanent link to my first short story / podcast published by Brick Moon Fiction in my Fiction samples tab — but I wanted to make it available here as well: Let’s Get Small - hope you enjoy! I’m looking forward to their release of my horror short story Cold Root for Halloween, which should be out in the coming weeks. I’ll be sure to link it here as well.

Monos

Well, I wrote a whole post on this amazing film called Monos but my computer had a bit of a blip that erased the piece. Instead of being angry I’m going to take this as a sign from the universe not to over explain, analyze, or describe this film — because you should just go see it. It’s a visceral fever dream that almost unconsciously transitions into fever nightmare. It’s beautiful, terrifying, and gripping. Props to NEON distribution for bringing this film to America (and generally for being so on point with their latest slate: Parasite, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, and Luce — all top of my list to see).

Chernobyl + General Catch Up

Hey folks - it’s been a long while, I have to admit! Wish I could post more these days, especially given the fantastic films I’ve been lucky enough to watch recently. The Last Black Man in San Francisco, The Hit (the 1984 Stephen Frears film), John Wick 3 (yes, it’s worth discussing), A Man Escaped, Stalker… And on the TV side, Ramy, the interesting and perhaps unfortunate case of Perpetual Grace, LTD., Killing Eve, Warrior…Just listing them here in case I can get to them at some point.

But I found myself with a rare window of opportunity last night when I was waiting up to pick up my wife from the airport and so I started watching Chernobyl on HBO. Unfortunately for my wife, her flight kept getting delayed and delayed again - so I kept watching Chernobyl. Ended up watching the entire thing in one sitting which I believe qualifies as a binge watch even though it’s only 5 episodes. I never binge watch anything - usually after episode 2 or into episode 3 I start to feel a little queasy, like narrative overload. I’m just a plot-absorbing machine at that point, unconsciously absorbing important emotional beats and missing valuable details in favor of trudging ahead at a clip. So, I usually avoid it and savor / digest the story over breaks between episodes. But with Chernobyl, I never got that queasy feeling (definitely queasy at times, but that would be from the sheer body horror during many incidents of the show. It is truly incomprehensible, even when you see a depiction of it onscreen - the pain of a body torn asunder from the inside by radiation poisoning.) I was totally rapt.

Anyways, the series is riveting, magnificently acted (Jared Harris IS one of the greatest living actors and I argue that he will go down as one of the top television actors of all time. Man, need another article on just him. Between The Terror and Chernobyl and The Crown and yes The Expanse too - this guy is unstoppable. Paul Ritter plays probably the most unlikable, nasty villain this side of reality. Emily Watson and Stellan Skarsgard too, right up there with the best).

Here’s what it does well. It forces you to understand the truly sublime power that man has created in nuclear energy and then methodically breaks down, explains, and reminds you how horrible it can be when not respected - how horrible it is for man, woman, child, nature and the earth itself. Johan Renck, the director, accomplishes this through eerily alluring imagery - equal parts terrifying and beautiful. In multiple instances, I was mesmerized by liquid cement swirling around coffins (the only way to contain the bodies’ radiation), or the alien glow of the open air radiation, the horrifying living decomposition of human bodies…

The mini-series also helps you understand much of the world that created the disaster. The bureaucracy. The lying. The political backstabbing and mistreatment of the common man. The tragic spirit of Russia. By containing the narrative essentially to Jared Harris’ character, the nuclear scientist at the heart of the Chernobyl containment and investigation, we get to experience a harrowing yet also extremely lucid journey towards the truth. All the other ensemble characters (including Barry Keoghan as a newly minted soldier who must “deal” with the animals in the containment zone - a powerful vignette in and of itself) — they all serve to prove Jared Harris and Emily Watson’s characters’ righteous stance for the audience. The mistreatment and tragedy of these regular people caught up and / or murdered by the man-made disaster. Overall, it is a gripping tale of doomed heroism and an amazing recreation of a time and place and scope. Many kudos to creator Craig Mazin.

But as I watched I couldn’t help but feel that something was a little weird about this whole narrative experience. It felt so heroic at times that I couldn’t help but question its veracity. Eventually, I put that feeling away since: A) this is television, isn’t it? It needs central heroes, doesn’t it? (to be discussed) — and B) sometimes you need to compress narratives into simplified heroic arcs in order to get the story across in the time you’re allotted. This is what happened with Emily Watson’s totally fictional character who is, as it tells you in the end text, supposed to be an amalgamation of all the scientists who helped Lagazov (Jared Harris’ character) get to the bottom of the Chernobyl cover up. Okay, all makes sense. And yet, when I was finished watching - though I was basking in the show’s accomplishments, this odd feeling persisted. So, I turned to smarter minds for answers…

First, Masha Gessen’s concise and severe article in the New Yorker. Her argument is that the mini-series turns the entire Chernobyl experience into a totally Americanized, ra-ra, a man against the system hero’s journey. When in reality, the bureaucratic morass of Soviet culture is precisely designed to prevent individualism in this way. She points out all the inaccurate moments of government depiction. She points out the painful irony of a story about deadly lies being replaced by other sorts of lies. That the heroics we witnessed never took place precisely because of the effective evilness of the government. Many of the criticisms can be explained away by Mazin simply needing to help the audience understand a point through a single character rather than a host of apparatchiks. But in other senses, I think she hits the nail on the head.

It made me think of Zeynep Tufekci’s opinion piece on Game of Thrones and Institutional Storytelling. This chronicles the evolution (or de-evolution, depending on your taste) of Game of Thrones’ style and structure of storytelling. Essentially, that it was from telling a institutional and sweeping story from the point of view of the world over to a specific and individual storytelling from a few heroes’ point of view. The Wire being the gold standard for institutional storytelling — the point is that when you focus on the mechanics and forces of the world, the individuals become more ambiguous morally speaking because you understand how little control they have. “Evil” decisions seem less so, because survival and fear and desperation make more sense in a clearer context.

This is a very roundabout way of saying: maybe Chernobyl could of used a little more institutional storytelling. Granted, it was awesome to fit in as much as it did in 5 episodes and that’s all they got - but imagine if they had more? Or, if they cut out the powerful vignettes and instead showed more of the cultural forces at work rather than just have a few fictional heroes describe them to us as they impossibly went up against them. Or to be more precise, what if it wasn’t all about Jared Harris and instead every single vignette we saw carried equal weight - and thus, they all felt more equally powerless?

I thought about this and even that seemed a little ridiculous to ask for. That’d be cutting out all the juicy good stuff - the real human drama! I wondered about Leviathan the 2014 film by Andrey Zvyagintsev. This was a story about the oppressive nature of Russian culture and its contortion of the truth. It was made by Russians, starring Russians and obviously there is a huge difference with this sort of story. But at the same time, Leviathan gives us both the individuals and their drama, trauma, and tragedy and struggle against the government — while also maintaining the sense of realism, the powerlessness, the unsuitable open ended “conclusions” to their story. It is less satisfying to an American audience because it is predicated on real pain rather than heroism.

Henry Fountain’s review in the NYT is a nice middle ground. He identifies the literal inaccuracies and the dangers of Hollywoodification. As he puts it, “the mini-series gets a basic truth right — that the Chernobyl disaster was more about lies, deceit and a rotting political system than it was about bad engineering or abysmal management and training.” This facet of the story, I think, is the most important thing as well for today’s age - when truth is almost as malleable and weak in America as it was in the Soviet Union then.

Last article, by Emily Todd VanDerWerff for Vox. The most sympathetic of these reviews - she delves into Mazin’s choices from his point of view, the choices he “had to make” - and the brilliant episodic storytelling structure which I absolutely agree with her on. I think all three reviews are right in their own ways.

I guess this is all to say: Chernobyl is a great piece of writing and an intense and unique viewing experience that is no less than a feat of verisimilitude and an achievement in film making. But I also can’t help but wonder at the more fully realized hypothetical version. The version that keeps the gripping storytelling intact while showing us the gritty reality of the detached, non-communicative array of bureacrats and scientists - heroes and victims - the institutions, as they really were, how they really dissembled the truth. What were the human and inhuman forces of the real world that led to this disaster - rather than simply the fictional heroes who impossibly overcame it?

Podcast - Cults

My freelance podcast episodes for Parcast’s “Cults” series are finally out - enjoy!

Work Update

Well, I had grand plans to spend my mornings writing exploratory flash fiction pieces as part of a sort of mosaic introduction to the world of the feature that I’m planning to write right now. But, the universe it seems has other plans, good plans! I start a new job tomorrow as a writers’ assistant on a new FreeForm show. It’s a really cool, all-original world with some really interesting concepts and societal commentary baked into it. Excited to see where it all leads. Lots of preparation to do today, research, re-reading the pilot, etc. More to come… Though I’ll note upfront that my posts may be reduced in number this week, below my usual goals.

And, since I’m now off the previous show and all its details are in the trades, I think I can happily clarify that I was on Raised By Wolves - created by Aaron Guzikowski (PRISONERS, CONTRABAND, The Red Road) and produced/EP101-102 directed by Ridley Scott. They’re in production on EP102 right now, and will be in production through August. No idea when it’ll air though…

Reflecting on that experience, well, it was amazing to be honest. Like the room before that one, a very intimate and relatively small size (showrunner, 4 writers - 2x co-producers, 2x co-EPs) everyone with totally varied show/writing backgrounds and experiences. Also like the room before RBW, the showrunner came from a primarily features background so it was interesting to see Aaron’s style of story formulation. I have no doubt it’ll be a very different experience on this upcoming show with a more classic network schedule and TV-originated showrunner. If I had to sum up, I’d say that RBW taught me about creating an entire world from whole cloth, original and expansive, and how to prioritize the details of that world - knowing what’s relevant to the story and what can be ignored (and what can’t be, for logic reasons). I learned about how flexible character arcs and episode beats/climaxes can be — what can be flipped or transferred to other episodes, etc. Whether a secret identity plot-line can be the whole backbone of a show, or relegated to the periphery. I also took an entire “Show How-To” notes doc for myself as I took notes. One day I’ll organize it, what can be shared widely at least, and post it. The writers were all very wise in their own way, not to mention hilarious and a joy to work with. If anything, that notes doc serves as a reminder of all that.

Matt Berninger on Love

Late Valentine’s Day related post. Just wanted to share this link here. An awesome playlist by Matt Berninger of the National, accompanied by excellent and articulate musings on what artists do and how they try to communicate about love.

(Flash) Story a Day

Since I’m still in the research stages for my next project, I’ve been feeling guilty about how little “writing” I’ve been doing. Literal real words on a page writing, as opposed to gathering resources as part of the longer process - which might technically qualify as writing but who knows. So, rather than just jot a thought down a day here - I’m going to challenge myself for a little more creative pressure. Starting… tomorrow? I will write a flash fiction story here in place of my usual post (5x days a week). I won’t edit it, I won’t even write it in Word - it will appear and be completed in the space of the blog. I’m thinking it might be a nice way to experiment with the ideas that are forming for my feature — big ideas and potential scenes and themes that are floating around but haven’t concretized into something yet.

Coffee Commissary

This is a bit of silly post, but I have no inspiration for anything creatively interesting today. So, instead I’ll just note - in e-diary fashion - that my entire relationship to Los Angeles can be traced through a local coffee chain named Coffee Commissary. It started in Burbank, where I worked my first LA-based gig, as the assistant to John Lee Hancock while he worked on post on The Founder (with Michael Keaton). Right down the street from our editing studio, on West Olive, was Coffee Commissary. Coffee runs, plenty of lunches and dinners there. Sometimes I’d work there in the morning before heading to the office. I was living in Boyle Heights then, in a big open loft near a beer-bottling factory. Now I live in Palms, near Culver City and I go to the Coffee Commissary there — have worked there through unemployment and many busy weekends too. It’s really a haven for all freelancers, open 7AM-8PM every day. I find myself working back at the Burbank location, after taking a meeting at Disney. It’s still the cozy, lively, writer-friendly spot that it was years ago. Delicious food too…

2018 - Year of the Documentary

Reflecting on the year in cinema, it feels like the first time I’ve ever personally regarded the documentaries more than the fiction. Don’t get me wrong, I love documentaries but they’ve never been my focus creatively or for entertainment. So the fact that they’re more on my radar, and have affected me more deeply than the compounded experience of dramas, is pretty surprising.

Some docs I’ve seen that were truly amazing, if not groundbreaking: Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, Three Identical Strangers (admittedly I think the story is more impressive than the documentary craft work here, but still), Free Solo (groundbreaking - per my previous post!), Minding the Gap (virtuoso), They Shall Not Grow Old (technically astounding, per my previous post!). And those are just some I’ve seen relatively recently!

Others still on my list to watch: Notorious RBG, Shirkers, Hale County This Morning, This Evening, Dark Money, Recovery Boys, Of Fathers and Sons, the list goes on…

Meanwhile, just looking over Oscar noms for general consideration of cinema, I find myself pretty uninspired. A few standouts, of course: Roma, The Favourite, A Star is Born, Black Panther.

But others that have fought their way into the various top categories I feel haven’t changed the game in any discernible way. Green Book (blunt in attempt and Oscar-baity to the maximum), Vice (almost virtuosic but fumbles the tone and character study I think), Bohemian Rhapsody (no), BlackKklansman (a good entry in the Spike Lee canon but to me hardly new or his best, though I’m glad he’s getting it for general recognition), and while I included Black Panther above - I don’t think it’s creatively or technically achieved anything new in movies — while it should certainly be recognized for the profound cultural impact it achieved as a vehicle for African and African-American style, influence, strength and relevance.

Outside of the Hollywood system, there was some truly amazing foreign films (as there always are, honestly) — and a few digital/streaming films made it into the awards race, but that’s as far as it goes. I had to go back and study the year’s history to compile this list — while these documentaries still actively live in my head and in my heart, all own their own. For that reason, I’ll say that 2018 was the year of the documentary.