Why I Like "Weird" Movies

In my last article about NewsRadio and TV series in general, I pointed out that I liked that show so much because it was a relaxing watch. I could watch episodes out of sequence or even not pay attention to them at all and still enjoy it. I wouldn’t call the show junk food, but it’s not something I feel the need to focus 100% on. There are plenty of films I feel the same way about (and will certainly write about plenty of them on this site in the future), but for the most part, my favorite films are the ones that require focused viewing. Often, a film that needs you to pay attention to it is called “weird.” The movies I’m going to discuss aren’t exactly weird in the traditional sense (but weird is subjective, so technically, everything can be weird), but have been labeled as such because they aren’t easily digestible.

It feels a little hypocritical to write about NewsRadio and praise it because I don’t have to pay attention to it, and then turn around and write about how my favorite movies are the ones you have to focus on. It all comes down to the location of your viewing, though. TV is...TV. You usually watch it in a distracting setting: your home. When I watch TV, it’s rarely the only thing going on. I’m hanging out with my wife, watching my daughter, doing dishes, cooking, doing laundry, checking e-mail, etc. In other words, all kinds of things are going on that keep me from focusing on the show I’m watching. Hence, my favorite show is one that allows for distractions. With movies, the intended viewing location is a dark theater that prohibits (or at least attempts to) talking and cell phones. In other words, films are made to be seen on a giant screen with no distractions.

Of course, I watch movies much more often at home than in the theater, so I love plenty of junk food movies. But my favorites are the ones I saw in the theater that rewarded my attention. The best compliment I can pay a film is that it held my complete attention even though I watched it at home.

I believe this love of complex films that require focused watching leads people to think film critics/buffs are snobs who don’t like “normal” movies. But when you watch movies every day, either for fun or work or both, you tend to appreciate the more nuanced offerings. To continue the food analogy of junk food, think about eating in general. If you eat the same thing every day, you’ll be fine with it, but never impressed. But if you get a new meal, even if it’s worse than what you usually get, you’ll appreciate it just for being different. That doesn’t mean a movie is automatically good because it’s odd; it just means it’s more interesting. And when you watch movies every day, interesting is pretty damn important.

Maybe movies aren’t your thing (just like some people don’t care that much about food), and watching any movie is entertaining because it’s a rare activity. That’s fine, but just realize that critics and dorks like me are going to roll our eyes if you think the latest Transformers was awesome and you don’t even know who Paul Thomas Anderson is. Now that I look at that sentence, I realize that it is a bit snobby, but so be it. The “weird” films are simply better because they move the medium beyond entertainment into the art realm.

Before I get into a few examples, I want to focus a bit more on what weird means to me. Weird is anything that is not predictable. It’s anything that aims to be different. The movies I love that I call weird are not really all that weird. These movies are all popular among most movie buffs and critics. They are also films that are fairly easily explained if you pay close attention. I am aware that there are truly weird films out there that are meant to be more poetry than film. I don’t like movies like that. I need my weird to be entertaining, and, more importantly, I need my weird to be able to be deciphered in a slightly definitive way. That said, here are the “weird” movies and filmmakers that immediately come to mind.

Darren Aronofsky is the first filmmaker to come to mind for a couple of reasons. First, in a recent interview on Marc Maron’s WTF podcast, Aronofsky flat out said he makes “weird” movies. Second, mother! is a recent film that many have deemed too weird because it received an infamous F Cinemascore from audiences. I loved it, of course, because it’s the perfect type of weird for me. On its surface, it is weird. It’s a film that was marketed as romantic thriller (I guess?) but ended up being a completely allegorical film about the environment, artists, humanity in general, etc. Anything that is completely allegorical is going to be a bit weird, since allegory typically requires exaggeration to fit whatever actual point the filmmaker is trying to make. What makes mother! stand out to me along with a few other films (such as Drive, Bug, The Cabin in the Woods, or Spring Breakers) is that people wouldn’t be disappointed with these films if they hadn’t been lied to by the trailers. Of course mother! is weird if you go in thinking it’s just another Jennifer Lawrence movie when, in fact, you’re about to see a Darren Aronofsky film.

I watched mother! completely expecting it to get increasingly insane because I knew Aronofsky wrote and directed it. It’s not that he doesn’t make “normal” movies (The Wrestler is a very straightforward film); it’s that his films are so varied that you know he’s not going to repeat himself. In other words, he’s going to make something interesting. I sat in that theater expecting a puzzle, so I focused on every detail possible. This might seem like homework to some, but this is how I wish I could watch every movie. This is why the theater is such an important part of the process. I’ve watched mother! at home and still enjoyed it, but nothing compares to that viewing in the theater. Before I move on, I just wanted to point out that my favorite Aronofsky film (and his weirdest, in my opinion) is The Fountain.

Next up is Yorgos Lanthimos, writer and director of two of my favorite films in recent years: The Lobster and The Killing of a Sacred Deer (I also loved Dogtooth). Lanthimos makes different movies, but his style makes them weird. His characters deliver some of the most absurd and childishly direct dialogue in such a deadpan manner I can’t help but laugh. And I think that is his intended effect. I consider his films to be comedies despite their disturbing nature. Comedy and oddness go hand in hand since they are both so subjective.

Comedy brings me to another favorite filmmaker of mine: Paul Thomas Anderson. An argument can be made that most, if not all, of Anderson’s films are comedies, despite the super serious appearance of most of them. It’s no stretch to consider Boogie Nights or Punch Drunk Love comedies, but you wouldn’t initially think There Will Be Blood, Phantom Thread, or The Master are comedies. But I think they are. They are weird comedies, sure, but they are comedies. Watch the jail scene in The Master and tell me that’s not meant to be funny. Every scene that takes place in Eli Sunday’s church in There Will Be Blood is absolutely meant to be funny. And I consider Phantom Thread to a warped romantic comedy, which is to say it’s my all-time favorite romantic comedy.

Before I move on to my last filmmaker, I have to bring up David Lynch. While I love Blue Velvet and like Lost Highway, for the most part I am not a big fan of Lynch. But you can’t bring up weird filmmakers without discussing him. I suppose I’m not as big of a fan because some of his work is so impenetrable, or at least, I just don’t get it (Inland Empire was just a waste of my time). But he has his fans. I’m just not one of them.

The all-time weird filmmaker for me is Stanley Kubrick. As I’ve been writing the entire article, his films aren’t really that weird. Kubrick just has a style and a way of telling a story that usually requires close attention. Also, his films are largely open to interpretation. Eyes Wide Shut is among my favorites for this very reason. I have different thoughts about that movie every time I watch it (and I watch it at least once a year...so who’s the real weirdo, right?). Maybe that’s because I’m a slightly different person each time, but I like to think that it’s more about what a talented and interesting filmmaker Kubrick was that he was able to create a film that could seemingly evolve with each viewing.

I’ll finish with what has become a bit of a trademark for these articles: a rambling paragraph followed by a short summation. This rambling paragraph will cover other filmmakers or films that I love and are considered weird, but for whatever reason, didn’t come to mind at first when I planned this article. All of these could have easily been included in the article in much more detail. Nicolas Winding Refn. Martin Scorsese, especially his recent Silence. Werner Herzog, especially his work with Kinski (which I eventually plan on devoting an entire article to), but also my favorites: Bad Lieutenant and My Son, My Son, What Have Ye Done. Denis Villeneuve, even though his films have become increasingly popular, I think he’s retained his weirdness. Walker with Ed Harris. Terrence Malick, though I do not care for his post-Tree of Life work. Titus. Southland Tales. The Box. A Scanner Darkly. Synecdoche, New York. A Serious Man. The Coens in general. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Ravenous. I’ll stop now, but just know that there are countless examples, and I’ll never be able to think of them all, and I most certainly left off something or someone so obvious that I will be tempted to return to this article and add it (I’ll let you know if I did that here - I added Fear and Loathing and Ravenous after scanning my collection one last time).

As I stated above, none of these films or filmmakers are actually all that weird. They just demand attention, and they reward that attention. Unfortunately, that means they are “weird.” But I’ve always liked weird. And with so many ways to get a film made today, the weirdness will never stop, and I’ll never stop seeking this weird shit out.

"Black Swan"

Black Swan - Directed by Darren Aronofsky, written by Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, and John McLaughlin, starring Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey, and Winona Ryder - Rated R

"It was perfect." I find it hard to disagree.

Director Darren Aronofsky is on a tortured performer kick…and he can stay on that kick as far as I’m concerned. First, he made 2008’s The Wrestler (my favorite film of that year), a film about a washed up wrestler striving to reclaim both his professional and personal life. Now, with Black Swan, Aronofsky looks at the beginning of a career rather than the end, but the professional and personal struggles of a performer are still the center of attention.

Black Swan takes place in the world of New York City ballet, which may be off-putting to some. I admit that I was not exactly thrilled to hear that Aronofsky’s next film was going to be about ballet. Of course, I was completely wrong to doubt the filmmaker. Ballet is just the backdrop for a truly disturbing psychological drama (and/or horror) film featuring an amazing performance by Natalie Portman.

Portman stars as Nina Sayers, a soft-spoken and sheltered young woman trying to reach the top of her ballet troupe. Perhaps “sheltered” is too weak a word. Scenes in Nina’s apartment, which she shares with her former ballerina mother (a very effective Barbara Hershey), feel like prison scenes. Nina’s mother seems to hear everything and is unwilling to allow Nina the smallest of privacies for more than a few moments.

It doesn’t help that Nina has a physically and mentally demanding job. She is trying to win the lead in a version of “Swan Lake,” which is being produced by Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel), who is known for being a bit too intimate with his dancers. Nina performs well and she is a perfectionist, but this role requires her to be the White Swan (perfect and pure) and the Black Swan (spontaneous and seductive). Therein lies the problem. Becoming the Black Swan means bending the rules and rules are what keep Nina sane, although one could argue whether or not sanity is worth it if such a sheltered life is required to retain it.

Nina’s sanity is also tested by the idea of becoming obsolete. Thomas’s former “little princess” Beth (Winona Ryder in a powerful and unstable performance) is taking a forced retirement at a relatively early age and Nina is filling the void. There is a bit of guilt there, but that is not the troubling aspect of the situation. Just as Nina is getting her moment to shine, Lily (Mila Kunis), a younger and more confident dancer, shows up.

Finally, add sexuality into the stress pile. As stated above, Nina is sheltered and treated like a child, so serious boyfriends have never really existed for her. Suddenly she is facing Thomas and being challenged to be sexy in her new role. Thomas believes that the Black Swan role must be seductive. Then there’s Lily, who represents this forbidden sexuality that has been festering in Nina for years.

Lily works as a foil to Nina in many ways and that is the crux of the film. Black Swan is all about duality. This is where the psychological horror element comes into play. The movie is told through Nina’s perspective, so we see what she sees, and it is disturbing at times. This film demands an attentive viewer. Characters’ faces change, physical transformations appear to take place, and art seems to move. The surroundings of the character are telling as well. Much like Stanley Kubrick, Aronofsky is a director that demands you pay attention to the sets.

Some of the aspects of the sets are obvious; there are mirrors everywhere, so you’re constantly looking at a reflection of Nina…or are you? You know, that basic identity paranoia stuff. But look around Nina’s apartment and you’ll see little touches…like the butterfly wallpaper. Most films don’t deserve that close viewer attention; Black Swan does.

Black Swan deserves an attentive ear, too. Go ahead and enjoy the classical music and the entrancing original score by the always impressive Clint Mansell, but pay attention to the little sounds. The similarity of a striking lighter’s sound to the sound of a pervert on the subway (sounds weird, I know, but the scene transition that takes place when those sounds occur is interesting). The flutter of wings that sounds eerily similar to two subway trains passing. This movie is full of nuances like that.

The comparison to Kubrick above is not done lightly. I consider Kubrick to be the best director of all time and I only throw out a comparison if I find it truly worthy. With Black Swan, I’m starting to think of Aronofsky as a filmmaker on the same level as Kubrick. He has developed a signature sound and visual style and he has that ability to make hypnotic scenes turn into nightmares in seconds. The scene in mind is the fundraising event. The scenes melt together like the ballroom scenes in The Shining or the Christmas party scene in Eyes Wide Shut. Then things get strange in the bathroom. That is just an example of how precisely similar the two filmmakers can be. The truth is they are quite different in overall style.

Kubrick would have filmed the ballet sequences as you would see them from the best seat in the house. (I am aware that Kubrick did film a ballet sequence in his early years for Killer's Kiss, but I feel that that was early enough in his career that he had not developed a signature style just yet.) Aronofsky sends the camera along with the dancer. No offense to the art of ballet, but I don’t want to see a beautiful, lengthy production of “Swan Lake.” I would rather follow a single dancer into the foray and let the camera be part of the story and the struggle. It is extremely effective and the ballet scenes end up being as intense and beautiful as anything I’ve seen this year.

The aesthetics of Black Swan are undoubtedly superb and the style definitely adds to the substance of the film, but a lot of credit goes to the (basically first-time) screenwriters Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, and John McLaughlin. That lengthy summary above concerning the character of Nina? It’s because of their screenplay. There are so many elements in this story that work and that are intriguing that to summarize Nina as simply “troubled” would be a disservice to the character. (I write this wholeheartedly as a man who hates the wasted space of summary.) Nina is easily one of the best written characters on screen this year. Thankfully, Natalie Portman inhabits her in the performance of her career and the performance of the year.

The casting of Portman adds its own part in the story of a woman breaking out of her shell. Sure, Portman has had her edgier roles (Closer), but she is usually the sweet girl that no one worries about. The expectations an audience may have for her help the performance very much, but they don’t make it. She shows true dedication and ability in this film. In a movie about transformation, I truly believed in her character’s changes. That’s another connection to The Wrestler, Aronofsky gets a performance from Portman that rivals Mickey Rourke’s.

The final connection to The Wrestler? It’s one of my favorite films of the year. Black Swan works on every level for me. The direction, writing, production values, music, and acting are all top notch. It is a film I plan on revisiting over and over in the future. Much like a Kubrick film, I imagine I’ll see something new and different each time.

Random Thoughts (SPOILERS)

Yes, Portman and Kunis have a bit of a love scene in this movie. There is a point behind it and while it is quite sexy, it quickly gets creepy and weird.

I loved the first time one of the portrait's eyes moved in Nina's apartment. It happens so quickly it's easy to miss, but very effective if you happen to catch it.

Another connection to The Wrestler: both films end at the end of a performance with a crowd cheering. Gutsy, but appropriate. Also, fading out to the sound of applause is kind of a cool way to end a film.

Oh, and the last line of "It was perfect"? Gutsy as hell. If the movie sucked, then Aronofksy would catch a lot of crap, though I highly doubt he cares what I, or any other more accomplished critic, thinks about his work.