All Things Kevyn

I'm torn here. Did i like this film or did i not? It really could go either way. First off, the film is gorgeous. Well except for those weird and awfully bad CGI gargoyles. I mean, really? What the hell was that all about? But otherwise, a succulent film indeed. Of course the fact that it blatantly ripped off many of the stylistic flourishes (or at least tried to) of Coppola's 1992 Dracula (my personal favourite) and last year's Nosferatu says something about something. Hell, compare this film's poster with one from the aforementioned Nosferatu, and you'll wonder why no lawsuit has been filed. Then there's the acting. Other than the always charming Christoph Waltz in the Van Helsing inspired role, the portrayals range from uneven to downright laughable. Caleb Landry Jones, looking like all the meth heads you see hanging out front of the local convenience store does not make a convincing vampire of any ilk, and Zoë Bleu Sidel, daughter of Rosanna Arquette, seems ...

Although i think Chalamet is one of the better, more vibrant actors of his generation, i cannot really stand the guy. He seems like a giant douchebag if you want me to get blunt about it. Of course it's this image of him as a giant douchebag (whether he truly is a giant douchebag or just playing one as a public persona) that makes this extremely unlikable character work in this film. Yet, paradoxically, as extremely unlikable as Marty Mouser is in this film (and yes, you guessed it, he's a giant douchebag) i couldn't help but find myself rooting for the poor schlub throughout Josh Safdie's anxiety inducing, hypertensive film follow-up to his equally anxiety inducing hypertensive Uncut Gems. The fact that Marty Mouser is based on a real person, who may or may not be a giant douchebag (though it is based on his autobiography) makes me think Chalamet was perfect for the role, as he seems to be a giant douchebag himself. Have i used the term giant douchebag enough here, bec...

Even though it's his 13th feature, one can still say Baumbach has now made his own 8½. Granted, Fellini's classic was an autobiographical look at a director having a crisis of creativity, and this film switches it to an actor having the same crisis, with George Clooney filling in for Mastroianni. Yet, with the second half of the film taking place in Italy, complete with weird entourages wandering through the fields and villas and a cast of bizzare extras that make it seem like Fellini himself did the casting and Baumbach's creative use of flashbacks that seem to be coexisting with the present, this is so obviously inspired by Fellini. Hell, there's even a quick nod to Masroianni late in the film. I'm not saying Baumbach's 13th film is his grand opus, nor is it on the level of 8½ (sorry Noah, but not much is) but it is a great character study that blurs real life with memory, both real and perceived, and Clooney hands in one of the finest and most heartfelt perfo...