Beyond the Gaze: Jule Campbell's Swimsuit Issue

Some debates are, seemingly, doomed to go on without ultimate resolution. The question of female “objectification” versus “empowerment”—in both the general context and the specific context of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue—looks like one of those debates. This documentary makes some attempts at exploring the subject, with the usual nods to those who object to the various targets for criticism—the SI issue primary among them—as well as the standard declarations about agency and women in control and fighting against male domination…it all gets its piece of the action in this film. But given that the chief subject of the movie is the life and work of Jule Campbell, the woman primarily responsible for the iconic publication, you know going in which side of the debate the filmmakers are on, so you don’t expect to see anything that would convince you of the exploitation argument. Yet, the rationales presented by the empowerment side ring hollow and too self-contained here, as they always do. A complicating factor with this forum for the debate is that this movie is as much a biography of Campbell and her work as it is a history of the swimsuit issue’s concept and cultural impact. This means that there are many mitigating elements in the flow of the film’s narrative that focus much more on Campbell’s life arc, from working editor to elderly and fragile retiree, including many touching moments between her and her family, friends and the models she worked with, most of whom seem to have adored her. It’s hard to pass any significant judgments on larger issues when you wish to honor the personal story of such an individual. So there are few answers to be had here for any who wish to draw conclusions about the right and wrong of the issue (in multiple senses of that word). Personally, I grew up looking at the SI swimsuit issue, and I believe it is both an obvious bit of softcore and a perfectly reasonable part of the publishing industry. (Or it was before what one wag referred to as “the war on boners” started.) Puritanism is rarely an effective reaction to human animal realities, while babbling about how women feel about their presentation exclusive of the reactions to said presentation—as if it all happens in a vacuum where the titular male gaze never falls, or can be nullified by sheer will—is equally quixotic. Maybe, then, the personal thread in this doc is the true answer: just focus on an individual, or on all individuals, whatever their context, and perhaps you can and will do right by them. That would be a fine legacy for the now-departed Ms. Campbell (who passed in 2022), or for anyone else for that matter. Picture that, why not?

Bugonia

Well, they never showed that on the history channel. Those of us who are well-versed in the various themes of paranormal paranoia will have little trouble navigating this narrative, but I suspect many others will find this story to be a real head-spinner, possibly so much so that it may take them out of the movie. If one focuses on the dynamics of the performances, that should steady the metaphorical ground under the viewer’s feet—and that is a good strategy, given that the verbal and emotional duel between Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons forms the core of this movie’s appeal. Admittedly, there isn’t a lot else to work with here, as the film is a study in interiority, but the leads do such a good job of giving their characters life, detail and plausibility that you can ignore the bits of the plot that are clearly telegraphed and the ones that don’t entirely add up. (You'll be helped in that if you don’t have a rigidly logical mind, and most people don’t). So, good acting, a brisk pace, and a tolerable amount of preachiness add up to a solid cinematic trip—whether you’re of this earth or not. 

Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Charm can go a long way. Especially so when it is being delivered by that epitome of charm, Audrey Hepburn. So it goes here. Indeed, Hepburn is exactly what you expect in this film. The real revelation is George Peppard, who turns in a terrific performance as Paul, the writer and neighbor who has the unenviable task of trying to rein in Hepburn’s Holly Golightly. Also starring in this flick: early’60s New York, that long-lost world that crops up now and again in movies, to the viewer’s delight and/or puzzlement, depending upon how far removed from that yesteryear the viewer is. The story achieves a delicate balance between dramatic and comedic, staying largely light and humorous while dipping into the serious now and then, without ever descending too deep into darkness; the tone never becomes a drag. Overall, the setting, script and presentation stays straightforward; director Blake Edwards plays it straight and never tries to get overly artistic in this presentation. Also notable element: it’s nice to see a cat play its part in a movie so well, and never miss a mark; good kitty! Lastly, one must acknowledge that Henry Mancini's score is note perfect in setting the mood throughout. They don’t make them like this anymore, or if they do somebody is keeping it well hidden. That’s why it is truly a worthwhile experience to take this step backwards and experience the old days and the old ways once in a while. If you too are digging for (cinematic) gold, this is an invite worth accepting. 

Ballerina

If someone could be as inventive about solving the world’s problems as this movie is about killing people, we’d probably have a paradise in no time. There wasn’t nearly as much thought put into the movie’s plot; you just get a relatively thin story that serves as a skeleton upon which the movie’s meat is hung—that "meat" being extended and audacious fight sequences. Those are done with this franchise’s usual aplomb, and are enough to satisfy any moviegoer's thirst for mayhem. Ana de Armas already has the human pincushion thing down to a T (as in "trauma") here, displaying admirable survivability even in the face of some truly savage stuff. Indeed, that is the element that makes this feature very much a guilty pleasure; you only hope and pray that no one out there takes this exercise in bad behavior seriously, or indeed as a template for how to engage in such behavior IRL, as the texters say. This movie does stand as a model for how to artfully present action sequences (a hallmark of the franchise going back to the very first Wick flick). Indeed, the aforementioned Baba Yaga makes an appearance here, one that is actually surprisingly deep and lengthy for an off-the-main-storyline work. I don’t know if this qualifies as an actual good movie, but it does deserve props for mostly living up to expectations via its expertly choreographed carnage. Light as a feather, perhaps, but this one does move in an appealing way. Hard to ask for more than that. 

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice

Sometimes they come back...and it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Maybe Beetlejuice (the original movie) was an unlikely suspect to rise from its grave—it seemed like it had said all that it had to say—but no, there apparently were a few more characters left to carve onto that gravestone. It probably helped immensely that a) many of the original principals needed work, and could use an old standby to serve as a seed for something new, and b) the success of Wednesday and its young star Jenna Ortega (who is in serious danger of being forever typecast) provided source material for an injection of new life to the older work. Merge the two influences and voila, a revival arrives, bringing much of the sensibility of the original, if not quite its freshness, while adding enough touches of today to make something that can stand on its own terms. Much of the narrative here works as a slow build, not unlike the first entry, until at last the applied touches coalesce into a climax that is genuinely funny, well brought together, and satisfying in its resolution of the various plot lines. The whole story put together may be something not quite what a fan of the first flick, or of Tim Burton in general, might expect at first glance, but if you let yourself get into the ... um ... spirit of the thing, you’ll find yourself feeling like the effort was not a dead waste of time. One suspects, given the rule of saying the name three times, that a follow up will be on the way; the vote here says that enough was done this time around to make that possibility one that does not need to remain buried—though these characters could also go to their rest without it being a tragedy, either. Ultimately, I guess you can’t begrudge anyone grabbing whatever kind of afterlife they can.

The Bikeriders

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Borat Subsequent Moviefilm

You can go home again, but usually when you do you find a lot of things have changed. Unlike our first go round with Kazakhstan‘s most famous fictional son, this outing is uneven, less focused, and not exactly the laugh riot we got from the original. That’s not to say that this movie isn’t funny; there are a number of good bits within this piece that provide some laugh-out-loud moments, but those scenes are too few. The plot is more diffuse here; unlike the first movie’s relatively straightforward storyline of Borat's quest to meet his dream girl—alas, Pam does not make a return appearance—this time it is abundantly clear that his and his daughter’s journey is a scattershot tour of various points in the country, with Texas being a main theater for the action, with predictable results. Indeed, a lot about this outing is predictable, leading to the sense that these scenes, in contrast with the first flick’s impromptu, guerrilla-style comedy, were largely staged. It seems like fewer and fewer of the participants were unwilling dupes, and that makes a lot of the jokes come across as flat. Ultimately, the conclusion is inevitable: try as he might, Cohen tried to pull off for a second time what was a one-time only trick. And that’s the kind of thing that will get you banished to Kazakhstan...or someplace worse: irrelevance.

The Beekeeper

It seems, at first glance, like this flick is going to end after about 15 minutes. After all, the instigating plot point happens almost before there’s been ten lines of dialogue, and the title character enacts his revenge shortly thereafter—so what’s left to dwell on? Turns out, there’s a whole infestation that needs to be rooted out, and Jason Statham's beekeeper-cum-killing machine is more than ready to serve as the exterminator, for another 90 minutes or so. This is another one of those movies where some person with insanely intensive training goes around doing away with designated scum, all while being able to take apparently limitless abuse without dropping dead. So you’ve seen this all before; the only questions are, how’s the execution (of the film, not the onscreen killings), and, are you already tired of this stuff? The answer to the former: pretty good—not a classic, but competently done, even if some of the movie’s...um...intellectual foundation is a bit fuzzy. As for the second question, well, that really depends on your own personal perspective on these kinds of movies. If you’re looking for your next great watch, this isn’t it. But if you just want to kill a couple of throwaway hours with some on-brand mayhem, you probably won’t mind this one. That’s about as much buzz as I can generate for this product of the action flick hive mind.

Babylon

This film starts out unpromising, with an opening sequence that celebrates people who are not in control of themselves. Only after that bit of showiness does the movie get on with its story, which, as one would imagine of a tale about people not in control of themselves, ends somewhat predictably. Really, though, those particulars of storyline are only the surface presentation; this movie’s actual subject is the nature of the movie business itself. Which, it turns out, really isn’t much more elevated than the behavioral grand guinol depicted in that opening. Thus, this work traces multiple parallel arcs of success and failure until we, viewers, characters and all, arrive at our eventual, rather inevitable ends. ultimately, this film wants to argue in favor of something greater in the nature of the movie biz, as have so many other “prestige” movies that exist along these same lines, though its conclusions are, at last, only half convincing. The final result of all that effort—and I do mean “all”; the full film clocks in at a heavy three plus hours—is a jittery, showy, but otherwise standard Hollywood cinematic ourborous: a grand example of the film industry vigorously fellating itself. Whether or not you find such a project entertaining is entirely a “your mileage may vary” situation.

Barbie

Amusing, except when it isn’t. This movie stands as a glaring example of the power of visuals. If viewers were to watch this film by not watching it—by closing one’s eyes and just listening to the dialogue—I suspect you’d get a radically different perspective on it from audiences. As it is, the movie’s political “screed as script,” which displays a very hard-edged “us vs. them” mentality, goes over much better by being wrapped in candy-coated visuals and a substantial amount of pretty. That’s ironic, since one of the very things that the filmmakers wish to reject—superficiality—is the very thing that makes their presentation and its philosophical underpinnings palatable. I suspect this movie is very much of its current moment; take this work out of the present day—mid-2023 and into ‘24—when identity and grouping and rigid structures of right-think are welcomed and lauded (at least among the believers), and you probably won’t get nearly as much positive reaction to it as it received upon release (and continues to garner on secondary distribution). Indeed, I suspect in the future many will find this movie’s contemporary success somewhat baffling. It may be truly aligned with the zeitgeist, but that likely will come to be seen as less a positive about this film, and more a negative about said zeitgeist. Frankly, this flick nearly put me to sleep, and that’s hard to imagine when most of watching it involves staring at the stereotypically apt Margot Robbie. I acknowledge that there is a certain amount of bemusement to be had here, in some of the show’s aspects, but not nearly enough to validate the reception this picture received. Disappointing and disheartening, and hardly welcome in any serious person’s dream world.

Big Hero 6

Yeah, it’s one of those movies where the principal characters are geniuses, but nobody knows how to pronounce “data.”  Make of that what you will. What was made of this story and script by the producers was a decent action flick, though one that—true to the legacy of actioners—doesn’t stand up to a lot of scrutiny. So definitely don’t overthink it. Most of what goes on here is entertaining enough, but it is curious in a number of ways. Why the made up, mashed up city? Probably because it was that way in the original book, but that doesn’t necessarily answer the question. Why did someone think that out-of-control tech would be a source of comedy? In fact, that’s getting less and less funny with each passing day. And, again, why is Disney so damn obsessed with dead parents? Ultimately, it all adds up to an enigmatic movie, one that’s enjoyable to some extent—certainly so in terms of the visuals, which are impressive all the way through, and in the character of Baymax, who is about the most endearing robot in all of cinema. But it's also a movie that leaves the viewer feeling that the final product could have been better. The patient survives, for sure, but maybe isn’t quite completely satisfied with his care.

Bolt

Another surprise. A relatively simple tale that takes some cues from movies such as The Matrix--or is it The Muttrix?--and The Incredible Journey turns out to be an insightful, funny and occasionally even moving story about a girl and her dog...and, oh by the way, Hollywood, which the film both admires and skewers at the same time and with equal amounts of feeling. Anyone who has ever had a pet can’t help but feel the tug of this picture's underlying story of a companion lost, so it’s no wonder the film would hit home with its audience. Add on to that foundation a clever script, strong vocal performances, and a major upgrade to the studio’s digital animation output (by this point Disney finally learned a thing or two from their Pixar cousins) and you wind up with a movie that probably deserves way more love than it seems to have gotten in its day and subsequently. Ironic though it may be, this is one movie about a dog that earns a long, loud PURR.

Brother Bear

From the start this flick feels like a video that would be shown at a diversity training session. And it turns out that’s the good part, if you forgive the wild swings in tone. Once the movie changes--in story and character--everything plays more like a standard cartoon flick, where things gets really stupid and the tale is largely played for (nonexistent) laughs. The moose characters are a stereotypical insult to Canadians. The bear cub character who gloms onto the protagonist is one of the more odious kid personas in the whole canon. Even songs by Phil Collin--he of the hooks that can drag you down the street--can’t rescue this piece of what the bear leaves in the woods. And, oddly, the characters themselves--certainly the protagonist Kenai--openly express their own contempt for the proceedings; it’s almost like listening to a meta commentary track. The viewer hardly can hardly be expected to like a movie that its own characters don’t seem to like at all. Most of the main personae are downright unlikeable. On the bright side, the Disney obsession with dead parents remains a going thing. There’s really no way to sugarcoat it: this flick is a flop. One wonders how anyone thought this one had any chance to succeed. Today, a couple of decades on, this movie is thoroughly and deservedly forgotten. Leave it that way.

Blacklight

Here is an interesting case study: get yourself a star--even one who is a little long in the tooth--surround him with a mostly no-name cast, and put everything together through the efforts of a no-name crew of director, writers and assorted others, and you too can make a credible action flick. It will help immensely if your unknowns bring some amount of moviemaking knowledge to the task, and in this one we see enough stylish camera work, good pacing, and overall solid sense of storytelling to render this crew worthy of respect for their efforts. Mostly, however, the strength of this piece comes from Liam Neeson doing his typical thing, being that guy you root for to succeed despite the obvious overwhelming odds stacked against him. Actually, the finest moments in the movie come when Neeson's character is interacting with the girl who plays his granddaughter; it’s like watching a kid having a ball playing around an old stump. Very charming. Also worth noting is that this marks the second straight movie starring Neeson that features a notably liberal point of view on political issues; seems like the old guy is interested in leaving a kinder legacy, even in the midst of the ass-kicking. All in all, we get a straightforward and surprisingly watchable, if not particularly memorable, action flick, one that serves notice that, maybe just maybe, this moviemaking thing is not as complicated as it seems--since apparently anyone can do it with relatively decent results. Just make sure you have at least one person involved who has some real stature.

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever

Never has a superhero action movie dealt so deeply in sadness, both real and fictional. The sense of loss is palpable throughout this story; indeed, it forms the core of the tale. And then, grafted onto that you have the demands of a relatively standard action movie. The result is something that is, for the most part, entertaining, though not entirely successful. Among other issues, this story has to contend with certain political necessities (the fraught nature of brown vs. brown battles) that shape how the whole plot ultimately plays out--and that fact somewhat tempers the ultimate output. It will be interesting to see, in the future, how ensuing installments overcome these issues. Time will probably heal the impact of the loss; the problem of political appearances will likely represent a thornier issue to resolve--though there are hints of how that will ultimately play out (i.e, they can avoid the problem of by having them team up to fight against evil Whitey). Bottom line: this is an acceptable, maybe even necessary, sequel that clears the deck in the face of unexpected tragedy and sets the stage for what may come in the future--so a full scale judgment must be withheld. Just call it good enough for now, and bide the time until the next, clean slate effort makes its appearance.

Beauty and the Beast

Extraordinary. It is not overselling anything to call this movie the apotheosis, the true ultimate expression of what the Disney studio was moving towards over all those years, from the earliest shorts through Snow White and Fantasia to The Little Mermaid. The latter is often cited as the beginning of the studio’s revival, and it certainly played its part, but this work represents a quantum leap up from everything that came before it. Yes, you can find a few minor quibbles in the production—a few characters are a bit grating—but those concerns hardly rise to a level that dims the praise. The main characterizations are spot on, the songs are terrific, and the animation is a wonder to behold from start to finish. We’re I not such a fan of Aladdin (the next film in the sequence, and the one which I have long considered the zenith of the Disney canon), I would have to bow to this piece as the pinnacle of the series. As it is, I will satisfy myself with giving this one Best of All status, the loudest PURR possible, and the highest of recommendations. An astounding achievement.

The Black Cauldron

How's this for a movie making an impact? When I viewed this film--as part of the sequence of watching the entire Disney canon--I forgot to post a review of it. Not a particularly good sign. So this post is being backdated to around the time I watch the movie. But I don't feel up to watching the film again; I don't remember too much of the experience, but I do remember enough to know that I don't feel up to watching the thing again. That sounds a bit too dismissive to really be fair. While this movie does have a reputation for being a stinker, I do recall that I upon first look I felt it wasn't all that bad--just not a complete success. I suspect reactions to this piece depend a lot upon your taste for fantasy genre works (as in sword and sorcery stuff); if you're gung ho for the warriors, monsters and wizardry works, then you will probably enjoy this one to some extent. But if that's not your thing, I'm guessing you will fall into the negative camp here. It's totally up to you--my interest in the thing is obviously low-grade one way or the other.

Belfast

The strength of this film lies in the way director Kenneth Branagh is able to utilize the performance of young Jude Hill--portraying the proto version of himself--to convey all the wonder, fear, confusion and delight that his 10-year-old self felt in his last days in his hometown. The recreation of that milieu is meticulous, with the setting of this story--really, an almost docudrama style witnessing of a clearly defined period in a life--almost serving itself as a character in the tale, a presence that brings the thoughts, feelings, conflicts, and dilemmas of simple, day to day existence in a difficult time and place vividly to life. The cast embodies the director’s family, friends, neighbors and enemies extraordinarily well, delivering performances that bring the dilemma surrounding the fundamental question--stay or go?--right into the forefront of the viewer's mind. One shrewd choice must also be acknowledged: using Van Morrison songs throughout the film, which not only provides a fittingly soulful vibe to the proceedings but also delivers a certain amount of borrowed artistry to the work; you get the sense that Branagh hedged with the music, so that if the audience liked nothing else about the movie, the songs would carry them through. He needn’t have worried; there is more than enough charm, drama, and thoughtful reflection included in this work to resonate with audiences in a most deeply personal way. Undoubtedly, most of us can relate to the life and times depicted here, to some lesser or greater extent, and that connective tissue makes this not just a story of one man's childhood, but a memory that many of us share ourselves, in some small way. Perhaps we all can go home again.

Bambi

A movie made more to show off animation skill than to tell a story. Plot, such as it is, is bare bones—just a pastiche of scenes of a life in the woods (the subtitle of the source book, by the way). In terms of story, this film starts off cloying and mostly stays that way. And yet...it cannot be entirely dismissed as a secondary work. For one thing, the artwork is a feast for the eyes—and visual appeal is one of the raisons d’etre of animation. Also, the film’s balance of sentimentality and realism is well handled, despite the inherent difficulty of squaring that circle. This entry in the Disney canon also echoes the company’s often overlooked (and and just as often parodied) dedication to films about the natural world; it is, in a sense, the foundational work of that part of the organization. Ultimately, this is a movie that succeeds despite the odds against it--perhaps not as the classic it's assumed to be, but as a good enough work in its own right.

The Batman

It is a tribute to the quality of a creative work—or perhaps better to say, one seminal creative source—that it can continue to generate consistently solid material despite the vein having been mined so many times before. So with this movie. Here comes yet another new take on the most resilient of the comic book stories, a newly born avatar that comes across as fresh and, if not original, then at least as singular in its own take on the familiar tropes. Once again, DC's greatest intellectual property demonstrates how well the Dark Knight plays in an all-too-realistic setting--unlike the toys being sold by the guys on the other side of the book rack. This outing is gritty, dark, rough and honest in its contextualization of the guy in the cape as a symptom of a greater madness, a societal rot that can birth a hell on earth—one from which no hero, caped or otherwise, may be able to save us. The only flaws here are a slightly too-long running time, and a denouement that delivers a little less punch than expected (presumably, the one problem produces the other). Overall, though, this is an impressive entry in this venerable, seemingly ever(dark)green enterprise.