#i wanted to see what rian johnson had to say about benoit's husband | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amandajeanwrites · 4 years

Text

A Love Letter to Knives Out

As my husband says, Rian Johnson’s Knives Out has been out for a long time now (aka two months, which I guess is a long time in Hollywood), but we just went to see it (took him long enough to take me!!!) and I can’t not talk about it.

For those of you who don’t know, Knives Out is the ultimate manor-house, family-values, murder mystery. One week after thriller novelist, Harlan Thrombey, commits suicide, the world renowned private investigator, Benoit Blanc, receives a wad of cash in the mail and a request to investigate the mysteries surrounding Thrombey’s demise. Thrombey’s family of white socialites are asked to return to the manor for further questioning in which you learn about the happenings on Harlan’s 85th birthday the night before he died.

The film is a mash-up of perfectly timed flash backs, done in the hilarious point-of-view of the most recent character in question, but most of the film is seen through the stunning green gold eyes of Thrombey’s nurse, Marta Cabrera, who was the last person to see him alive. It’s an exciting who-done-it jampacked with family drama, white privelege, and sour (not to mention famous) faces, and I enjoyed every last morsel.

I’ll try not to get into spoiler land too much here, as I mainly just need to talk about how much this film inspired me. As a writer, specifically one who’s been struggling through writing mystery and thrillers myself, I was enthralled with every tiny decision Rian Johnson made, both with the screenwriting and direction. He knew the formula perfectly, implanting props and clues at the beginning that would definitely come to life later.

I feel like before I even get into the writing though, I need to discuss production and set design, as the Thrombey family home completely blew me away. The outside of the house, besides being perfect for the kind of Clue-esque murder mystery novel, was merely unremarkable compared to the props and set dressing that was done inside. Before bed, I read every article I could interviewing the set decorator, David Schlesinger. I just had to know what informed all of the tiny details in this over-the-top, ornate home.

He said he based every single prop off of a novel that Harlan Thrombey would have written over the past sixty years. From there, he sourced the majority of antiques locally in the Boston area as the character would have done. I caught only a handful of odds and ends in the background, as the plot and characters keep sucking your focus back, but I can’t wait to see it again to see what else I can catch.

Okay, back to the writing. Rian Johnson’s attention to detail wasn’t the only thing I pulled inspiration from. The man clearly loves murder mysteries, as this story was reminiscent of all of those classics we all know and love, but he took so many major spins on those tropes, so nothing felt predictable. You really had no idea who to blame until the very last few minutes of the film. Every single character has a motive and not a one has an air-tight alibi.

One of the ways he brilliantly diverts expectations is in the use of a main character. Marta Cabrera, played by Ana de Armas, the nurse, is the daughter of an immigrant woman, working hard to keep her family afloat and safe. She’s great at her job, forming a close bond with Harlan and his family. She seems to have a heart of gold. (She has a literal disorder where lying makes her vomit.)

She’s refreshing. I guess that’s what I’m getting at. Typically in these scenarios, we’re seeing everything through the eyes of the madcap detective (we’ll get to him in a moment), a strong-jawed, handsome gentleman who is seeing everything for the first time and is just learning the personalities of the characters through their faults and guilt. Through Marta, we’ve seen it before. We know them. We know how disgustingly obtuse the family is. We know they don’t care about her or where she’s from. We see the guilt before it’s ascertained. It’s just a beautiful twist.

Also, someone pointed out on Tumblr that Marta’s character is refreshing, as woman, because she isn’t sexualized AT ALL. In the entire movie, never once do we see her in a revealing outfit. She’s often dressed as an innocent, middle class working woman, in normal, comfortable clothing. Not once do we see her snuggled up against the incredible sexy bad boy of the family, Ransom, an obvious pick for a love interest. She’s just a girl observing the family do horrible things, and not once is she sexually harassed for it. It’s incredible. This is what we want more of, Hollywood! (Louder for the people in the back!!!)

Going back to the point, however, that every character has a motive, Marta isn’t as innocent as she seems, and it makes for some incredibly poignant and emotional scenes which shockingly moved me to well up. That’s another part of the genius of this film, the emotions. One minute, you could be cackling out loud about a ridiculous comment made by the Alt-Right grandson, and the next minute you could be sympathizing for the characters who lost the patriarch of the family.

It filled me with nostalgia, not only for other murder mysteries of this caliber, but because at one point, I leaned over to my husband and said “Oh my God, these are like my family get-togethers.” The family argued politics. They laughed and danced and partied. They told eat other to “eat shit” and got in fist fights. They cried, holding each other in apologies.

Aside from the family, comedic relief also came in the form of the aforementioned madcap detective, Benoit Blanc, played by Daniel Craig. Blanc, a detective straight from Civil War era Georgia, comes into the family with new eyes but old wisdom through experience. He figures everything out within the first fifteen minutes but struggles through the details for the rest of the film in waxing monologues about baked goods that will have you rolling. He teams up with Marta, “Watson” as he calls her, to unsheathe the dagger completely, so to speak. Their chemistry together truly makes the film.

I could go on and on about the rest of the characters and their perfect imperfections, but I have to go on to why I wanted to write this post in the first place. If you want to talk characters and actors (Toni Collette though!?!?), hit me up on Instagram @amandajeanwrites and I will discuss it with you for DAYS. (Shameless plug.)

So the point, of all of this, was how I left the theatre feeling insurmountably inspired. Not only was the writing impeccable, full of details and heart and soul and emotion, rounded characters, a set beginning middle and end, but at the heart of it all was a man successful for writing dozens of mystery and thriller novels. I know that sounds wild, that I was most inspired by the character who dies at the beginning, but truly I was.

Harlan Thrombey is everything a writer aspires to. He has amazing success. He lives in the dream home. He has a mostly healthy (although ridiculous) family who loves him very much. He took them all under his wings to support them financially because his success gives him the means to help. He takes Marta in, although as his nurse at first, and befriends her and takes care of her and her family as well. And he’s able to do all of this because of his imagination.

Throughout the film, one of the police officers on the case is geeking out about the various set pieces because he’s a huge fan of Harlan’s work. I think every author wants that sort of fandom. Someday, I’d love a mansion full of brats and a stranger to come in and tell me how proud he is of my work and how honored he is to be in my home.

I don’t know, I guess that aspect of it just really filled me with joy, and it pushed me to keep moving forward. I will have that house someday. I could, you know, go without the murder part of it. Let’s leave those for the novels.

TL;DR, Knives Out was an incredible representation of the murder mystery genre, and it’s going up on my list of favorite films of all time. Rian Johnson deserves all of the awards this season, as do his cast and crew. Bravo to all.

Oh, also, thanks as always, for reading xo

Let me know in the comments if there’s a particular film that inspires you to keep pursuing your passions.

#knives out #chris evans #toni collette #rian johnson #jamie lee curtiss #don johnson #jaeden martell #katherine langford #michael shannon #daniel craig #ana de armas #lakeith stanfield #christopher plummer #writer #mystery #clue #author #authortube

40 notes · View notes

monicalorandavis · 4 years

Text

I saw ‘Knives Out’ a week ago and I’m still reeling

I saw ‘Knives Out’ a week ago and I’m still reeling. This movie is fun and I simply won’t talk to anyone who disagrees! I don’t want to argue about its merits. It’s good.

Your issue is, I presume, an issue with what the film says about the upper class. Go on, sympathize for the horrible, rich family that represents all that is ugly with America. Feel bad for the racist gargoyles who are equal parts human and checking account. These people are snobs. They are snob dumpster fires and if you didn’t have fun roasting them then you and I are on different sides of the war.

What war you ask? I guess I’ll call it the culture war (though that’s not really it). I’m talking about the current (unannounced) civil war between those who think Trump is getting unfairly maligned and us, the ones who are looking back on this shameful era ten years down the line, explaining to our kids what the fuck happened in 2019. This is bad. Art should make fun of us. Our obsession with fame and fortune has gotten us into global laughing stock territory. So let’s allow for art to poke fun as the bullshit of America. Art should be a reflection of our ugly parts. We all must look in the mirror when we try on a bathing suit. This is that. I choose not to place blame on the world for my muffin top. It’s funny. I’m gonna still have fun with this muffin, and this film, even if it doesn’t make me feel amazing. Laughing at yourself exorcises the demons. We still need art to encourage our spiritual progress. Don’t be such a stick in the mud.

So, now that I’ve sorted that out, the film...

It’s good.

Now let’s focus on the acting which is, arguably, always my favorite part of any movie.

Didn’t we all revel in the Yosemite Sam impression Daniel Craig was doing with New Orleans private investigator, Benoit Blanc? Wasn’t Lakeith Stanfield playing the slightly oblivious police detective while his partner fangirled over Christopher Plummer a treat?

It was.

In a society so obsessed with celebrity, it was especially delightful to watch the investigators reckon with people who simply did not believe they had to play by the rules. They don’t have to partake in police questioning. They have people for that!

Only, they do have to partake in police questioning and their lack of experience in dealing with authority figures, like the police, made them particularly horrible witnesses. They quite enjoyed a wonderfully anonymous type of wealth, free from press and the quotidian boredom of bosses, day jobs, rules...you get it. The Thrombey’s do not handle inconvenience very well.

As a result, we delight in their misfortune. This move dripped with Agatha Christie meets Succession realness. Plus subtle notes of Rupaul’s Drag Race camp.

Yes, I admit, Benoit Blanc is no Hercule Poirot. All these mystery purists coming for ‘Knives Out’ best fall back with those comparisons because it’s simply unfair. Christie’s number one Belgian is too good for mere mortals to emulate. And Daniel Craig tried very, very hard to give you an iconic detective character. Was it goofy and weird? Yes. Let’s all agree to move on.

And the moving on is a larger lesson here. Because only when you surrender to this film does it reveal all its gifts to you. Once you stop comparing it to all the other stories you hold so dear does it grow into its own animal. It’s a mystery for the age in which we find ourselves. I will not slander the p.c. police because, hell, I’m sort of one of them. Social justice warrior is not an insult that rustles my feathers. Interestingly, this film joins the SJW’s alongside the Stephen Miller’s of the world. White privilege is white privilege. And, unfortunately, the Thrombey’s, both young and old, liberal and conservative, are victims of their privilege. So blind to the plight of others, they can not help but make themselves the heroes of their own story. And people don’t like the thought that they, like the film’s youngest SJW of the family, Katherine Langford, could be part of the problem. And yet, she is. She so is.

Langford delivers a knockout performance of Taylor Swift-level white feminism that is so 2019 and clueless that I imagine many people even missed the joke.

Along those same lines, Chris Evans is the playboy, black sheep of the family who seems misunderstood and sexy but, spoiler alert, is just conniving and sexy.

Both performances were stellar and so deeply entrenched in modern white identity politics that if you’re not paying attention you might assume that their characters are just your standard rich villains. Nay. These are the “good white people” who are behaving badly. These are the white people who donate to charities and hire undocumented workers like Ana de Armas’ character, Marta. They are people who listen to rap music and love ‘Insecure’ and took an African-American studies class in college. And yet, they demand attention and emotional labor from the (employed) people around them. They distort proximity with closeness and try to lure Marta into their world. But she always knows better. For whatever reason, she can not trust these people, even before Harlan’s death.

Rian Johnson directs with a certain je ne sais quoi. Call it a ‘BDE’ that I would not expect from such a dweeby looking dweeb. Yes, ‘Knives Out’ has a fun enough story. But it really shows the fuck out is with its performances. Holy moly. No small roles, only small actors, as the saying goes. Yet in the case of ‘Knives Out’ you will find neither. Everybody is a god damn star. You should know that I stan Chris Evans but, as it turns out, this film begs you to worship its entire cast. So I did.

‘Knives Out’ is a star-making performance for Ana de Armas. If you hadn’t heard, de Armas garnered a Golden Globe nod and it is well-deserved. Armas’ Marta is a nuanced, funny, sensitive, conspirator in a plot that could’ve isolated the audience but instead put us smack dab in the middle of a moral quagmire.

Only the best actors can pull this off. Lesser actors have us turn against them while they flounder. Marta’s role in the family drama is as an outsider. In spite of their insistence that she is one of them, she keeps her distance, only clinging to Harlan. She fell for Chris Evans’ charms briefly, and I applaud Rian Johnson for avoiding a romance between the two (we didn’t need it) and focusing instead on the emotional betrayal. Marta was a woman with her head screwed on straight. In spite of her, possible, nursing fumbles she was the only kind person Harlan had in his life. She would never risk her loyalty to him by engaging in some foolishness with Chris Evans’ hunky ass.

And I repeat, I don’t care about your thoughts regarding inheritance. It is silly to contest that Marta deserved nothing less than the full sum of the fortune (*spoiler*). She deserved everything. She deserved an existence in this country free from citizenship anxiety. She deserved a partner who loved her. She deserved a friend who didn’t kill himself to save her ass. Least of all, she deserved Chris Evans’ character to be better. But, he was a product of his shitty family. How could he be better?

Three names: Jamie. Lee. Curtis. I need her in at least seven to twelve projects in the coming year. She is a stand out among stand outs. She serves up the quintessential performance of a cold-hearted bitch that is so likeable that I will patiently await the spin-off. I need to know where her Linda Drysdale is now. If anyone in the family was able to land on their feet it was Linda. We all know it.

Linda was the only Thrombey child who had the guts to make it without a handout. Her loser husband, played by the ever-handsomer Don Johnson, was practically useless. Her loser brother, played by the unusually diminutive Michael Shannon, was the same. Her sister in law, played by the illustrious Toni Collette, had her head so far up her own ass that even Gwyneth Paltrow would blush.

Poor Linda. She was surrounded by idiots. I hope she’s doing ok.

And now, we’re at the end. I’ve tried my best to avoid any horrible spoilers. But I’ve also taken a deep dive into SJW’s so I might’ve gotten off track along the way...

In any event, this movie is good. And I can’t wait to see it again.

#knives out #christopher plummer #ana de armas #jamie lee curtis #don johnson #rian johnson #lakeith stanfield #mystery #agatha christie #hercule poirot #daniel craig

15 notes · View notes

sweetsmellosuccess · 5 years

Text

TIFF 2019: Day 3

Films: 4 Best Film of the Day: Knives Out

The Vast of Night: It’s not an uncommon conceit, in the Age of Irony, to utilize an old, archaic piece of media and camp it up by playing it arrow-straight, but thankfully, that is not the approach taken by Andrew Patterson. For this “Twilight Zone” take, about an alien visit in a small New Mexico town in the ‘50s, he avoids irony in favor of taking the source code and infusing it with more arthouse convention. The film, which stars the charming Jake Horowitz as a local DJ, and Sierra McCormick as a young but capable switchboard operator, who discover an alien communication code floating on the radio waves on a night the rest of the town is at a high school ball game, has a kind of vibe all its own. The opening scene with a swirling tracking shot as it follows the irascible Everett (Horowitz), firing off rapid bon mots at all comers as he navigates through the radio set up of the basketball game and walks his young friend to her night job at the switch board is a blast, almost Coens-esque in its uncanny dialogue spin and character embellishment. Alas, after that blazing start, it eventually settles down into a somewhat less inspired aliens-above-us drama, albeit with unusually long monologues from the characters and long static shots that go well past expectation. Still, it’s a strong screenplay, and I would expect to see something else soon from Patterson -- and I don’t mean a postcard.

Sea Fever: As a dedicated fan of Ridley Scott’s Alien, I can appreciate the set-up of Neasa Hardiman’s monster-on-a-boat thriller, but the devil as they say, is in the details, and here, few of them stand up to much scrutiny. Siobhan (Hermione Corfield), a young, socially averse doctoral student (a specialist in abnormal pattern recognition) is forced by her professor to board a fishing ship for a three week stint at sea. At first, steering clear of the crew, Siobhan does her work and keeps her nose down, but when the desperate captain disobeys the coastguard prohibited zone and ventures into the unsafe waters, the ship soon becomes the object of prey for a giant, multi-tentacled glowing beastie that fills their water supply with small, gelatinous larva. With such a set-up you would hope the film would be smart and snappy, but instead it gets bogged down with sloppy plot points and lazily convenient characterization — when it comes time for Siobhan to suddenly disavow her antisocial attitude, it’s as if she never had a contrary conviction. It ends elegiacally, but not in a way that makes much sense. One of those movies where so many better alternative plans were readily available for everyone, their doom becomes more and more of their own fault.

Knives Out: Rian Johnson has always had the ability to craft densely layered plot entwinings: His debut, Brick, is a Dashiel Hammett-like noir set in a modern high school, as it happens, so after taking such an undeserved beating from the Star Wars fanchildren for helming The Last Jedi to their disapproval, it makes perfect sense he would want to go back to his roots, as it were. Given a classic murder mystery set-up -- a wildly successful mystery novelist (Christopher Plummer) with a large, bitter family, is found dead one morning in the study of his New England mansion from an apparent murder, leaving a houseful of suspects -- Johnson packs his film with broad acting talents, and lets them duel each other, chewing up the meticulous scenery. What’s more unexpected is the film’s sense of humor, and its distinct undercurrent of political satire (as one critic put it after the screening, the movie “is America”). You have the republican reactionary husband (Don Johnson), whose smug wife (Jamie Lee Curtis), fancies herself a self-made business tycoon, despite accepting a huge loan from her wealthy papa; the vacant liberal-leaning daughter-in-law (Toni Collette), who has her own fiduciary improprieties she needs to hide from her college student daughter (Katherine Langford); the creepy younger son (Michael Shannon), whose own younger son (Jaeden Martell), is even creepier and a Nazi sympathizer; and, at last, the sweetly humble nurse (Ana de Armas), who has to suffer these fools while harboring her own secret about the night her employer was killed. All these conniving twits, each with their own agenda, and possible motive, come under the watchful eye of Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig, having a blast with a well-baked southern accent), a private investigator hired by an unknown party to solve this conflagration of plot threads. But here’s the kicker: The death is explained about a third of the way through, leaving the rest of the film open to a different sort of whodunit, no less satisfying – I assure you – than the standard form. Johnson takes the genre and drives his plot up, over, and through the conventions in a way that feels excitingly fresh, and deliriously entertaining. I hate to go the bombastic critic route, but this is the most fun you’ll have in a theater this year.

Bacurau: A Brazilian future dystopian western, in which a small, close-knit village in the remote plains, is terrorized by a paramilitary group of Americans (lead by Udo Kier) who hunt them down for some sort of sport credits. The village reaches out to a local mad criminal baron (Silvero Pereira) to help, and soon the scurvy yanks have much more of a fight on their hands they were counting on. As an anti-colonialist screed, it’s surprisingly effective. We root for the town, whose socialist help-each-other ethic, overpowers the forces of the market-based capitalists, a thrilling scenario in almost any setting. True, at the end, Kier’s character ominously promises the village his crew were “only the beginning,” but one band of Capitalist thrill-seeking mugs at a time.

Tomorrow: The day starts with Giuseppe Capotondi’s thriller, The Burnt Orange Heresy; moves a little more far out with Color Out of Space, with Nic Cage; finally get to see Noah Baumbach’s Marriage Story; and close out with Pablo Larraín’s Ema.

Photo: Knives Out

#sweet smell of success #ssos #piers marchant #films #movies #tiff 2019 #toronto international film festival #knives #rian johnson #chris evans #christopher plummer #ana de armas #daniel craigh #bacurau #sea fever #the vast of night #arkansas democrat gazette

6 notes · View notes