One Battle After Another - Time Doesn't Exist, Yet It Controls Us Anyway

I’m dabbling with submitting reviews for a local newspaper again, so the first part of this is my spoiler and vulgarity-free thoughts on One Battle After Another. I’ll go free-form in the Random Thoughts section. 

As a huge fan of Paul Thomas Anderson (There Will Be Blood is one of my favorite films of all time), One Battle After Another is easily the most anticipated movie in recent memory. That anticipation coupled with the nearly universal early praise for the film worried me: could this film possibly live up to its expectations? To be brief, yes. But I’ll give you the long-winded answer, too.

One Battle is one of those special films that can be entertaining completely at face value, but you can also apply theories to it. The basic storyline of an ex-revolutionary-in-hiding forced to come back to action to try to save his teenage daughter is enough to make the nearly three hour run time feel brief. But there’s also a metaphor for parenting in general to appreciate.

The film never stops. An extended prologue introduces us to the French 75, a group fighting against the immigration policies of the country. They attack detention centers and blow up government buildings. This aspect of the story will undoubtedly trigger some viewers, but I promise this is not a preachy film. There are white supremacists and revolutionaries and detained immigrants and that might offend some viewers, but that’s also the world we live in, so I don’t know why it would. And that’s the point of the film, in a way. This world is one battle after another, and things don’t change that much. That is why it isn’t preachy; it’s simply stating that it is what is, and this is a story about people fighting those battles.

Maybe I’m wrong and no one will care (so far, I haven’t seen much outrage about the film, but then again, I don’t think the people it would anger even know it exists, much less want to watch it). I found the setting effective as it puts the immigration crisis in the background of the film as this tense spectre surrounding everyone involved.

Tension is one of the strengths of the film. Leonardo Dicaprio (the aforementioned ex-revolutionary) spends pretty much the whole film flailing and failing to find his daughter. He is constantly moving even though he doesn’t seem to be aware of where he is or where he is going at any given moment. That, coupled with Jonny Greenwood’s predictably great score, give the movie a constant sense of unease as anything can happen at any moment. But it’s also funny because Dicaprio has become so inept and burnt out over the years that he can’t even remember the codewords and phrases necessary to get information from his former group. The comedy is the lifesaver of the film, otherwise it would be an exercise in tense misery.

Dicaprio’s inability to accomplish much of anything for most of the film presents the metaphorical aspect: parenthood. You don’t need to be a parent yourself to understand Dicaprio’s struggle in the film. His sole goal is to protect his daughter, but he’s unable to both because of his own failings and a world he can’t control. That’s parenting for everyone, even people who aren’t former revolutionaries. You want the best for your children, and you want them to always be safe. But, especially as they get older, things get out of hand. You can’t be with your kids all the time, and even if you could be, you can’t stop every bad thing from happening to them. But you can try. As the film title states, it’s one battle after another.

This wasn’t at the forefront of my mind while watching the film, however. It’s far too fast-moving and entertaining to give you time to dwell on deeper meanings (all that came later, thinking about what I had just seen). It’s cliché to call a film a “ride,” but it truly is, sometimes literally. There’s a uniquely filmed car chase near the end of the film that was one of the best in recent memory, accentuated by the IMAX presentation I saw the film presented in. 

One Battle is easily the most action-packed film of Anderson’s career, though that’s a low bar to top. But it’s not just car chases and shootouts. There’s a propulsion to the film that Anderson’s previous films lack (that’s not a dig at his other movies, it’s just that his later films are more meandering). Every character in this film is constantly moving to some goal with no time to think about it. The villain of the film, Sean Penn (weirding it up to try to get another Oscar), is like a creepy Terminator constantly moving in on his target. 

Penn is equal parts unnerving and goofy, and is likely to gain the most awards season attention. But everyone in this is great. Dicaprio has perfected his neurotic rageaholic character at this point. Benicio Del Toro provides plenty of comedy as an aloof sensei. Teyana Taylor fully embodies a revolutionary. And Chase Infiniti handles the tricky job of portraying someone both vulnerable and capable. 

It all adds up to one of my favorite films of the year. And the more I dwell on it, the more I like it. Perhaps one aspect will put it over the top for me: this is possibly the only film of Anderson’s that made me tear up. I'm a sucker for parental stuff in movies these days, but I don’t think it’s just that. He created this relationship between Dicaprio and Infiniti that feels real. I didn’t just want things to work out for them because they were the “good guys” of the story; I wanted these characters to make it because they earned it. Anderson detractors often accuse his films of being cold, but I can’t imagine that argument being made for this film.

One Battle After Another lived up to the hype for me. It’s 161 minutes of humorous tension, and I immediately wanted to watch it again when it was over. I can’t think of higher praise than that.

Random Thoughts

Still not seeing much in the way of MAGA outrage at this movie (once again, I think it’s simply flying under their radar since it doesn’t star Dean Cain or Kevin Sorbo), but I am seeing a few IMDb reviews that claim they are posting simply because the movie is too hyped up, and they want to bring the score down because the movie is just good, not great. I can understand that, and that’s partly the point of my review. Yes, movie people are high on this, maybe too high. And maybe I am, too. But I don’t think so. The only evidence I have for this is the fact that my wife dug this movie, and she doesn’t know who Paul Thomas Anderson is. Every aspect of the movie worked with her because it’s a good movie, not because she “wanted” to like it because it’s big on Letterboxd. I guess time will tell.

On that same note, a lot of folks are ranking PTA or at least alluding to where this would rank for them. I’m not doing a ranking on him any time soon, but I will say at the moment that this would probably be top five. I’m thinking maybe: 1. There Will Be Blood 2. Boogie Nights 3. The Master 4. One Battle After Another 5. Inherent Vice …fuck it…6. Magnolia 7. Punch-Drunk Love 8. Phantom Thread 9. Licorice Pizza 10. Hard Eight (but mainly because I haven’t seen it in years). 

That’s just off the top of my head, and it would probably change if I did a complete rewatch. But this movie’s place in a PTA ranking has nothing to do with how good it is. So a movie not being as “good” as Boogie Nights or There Will Be Blood is disappointing? If so, then might as well stop making fucking movies because that’s a high bar. 

I think this movie is getting hyperbole because it resonates with the world we currently live in more than any other PTA film ever has. His contemporary movies (Hard Eight, Magnolia, and Punch-Drunk Love) haven’t been tied to the moment they were made in. This is a movie of the time, and people wanted it, and maybe they even wanted to like it. The fact that it’s also funny with some action and excellent performances elevates it that much more. I kind of wish I could be a contrarian and tell everyone to calm the fuck down about this one, but the more I think about it, the more I like it. And more importantly, I like when I enjoy a movie. I don’t want to hate shit or be disappointed in it. I love movies, and when a really fucking good one comes out, I really fucking like it. All I’m saying is it’s okay to like something even when it’s overhyped. There are plenty of killjoy dildos in the world; no need for another one.

All that written, it’s okay to not like this movie. But if you’re only reviewing it or scoring it in response to other people’s thoughts on it, then fuck off and come up with an original or personal reason for your opinion.

I only made it about halfway through Vineland before I watched the movie, but I can still confirm this is a loose adaptation, and I’m glad. I’ll finish it, but I find Vineland very hard to get into. I just need to be in the right mood for Pynchon, and right now I’m just not in it.

Concerning Pynchon adaptations, this is wildly different from Anderson’s work on Inherent Vice. That film, which I’ve grown to absolutely love, is probably too faithful to Pynchon’s text. Characters mumble a lot, and much of the dialogue is taken directly from Pynchon, including all the “ums” and “uhs” and generally odd wording. It can be tough to decipher while reading and impossible to parse while watching. But there’s a musicality to it that worked in Inherent Vice. Here, Anderson admittedly cherry-picked elements he connected to and crafted his own story out of it, and the film is ten times more accessible than Inherent Vice because of it. It doesn’t make it automatically better, but just different and more audience-friendly.

I loved seeing Kevin Tighe in this. Of all the great casting choices in this, I never expected to see the bar owner from Road House in this, especially since I thought he was long dead.

Seeing Sean Penn survive the gunshot and car crash cracked me up so much. Then for him to show up all disfigured to still apply to the Christmas Adventurers Club with a “semen demon” story floored me. That stupid look on his fucked up face as he died was the chef’s kiss. 

So great to have Jim Downey deliver the “semen demon” line.

What a fucked up weird room for the white supremacists to meet in. It’s like a wildlife exhibit in a suburban tunnel system. Truly evil.

Del Toro saving Bob but getting busted for a DUI is great. It just shows how relaxed he is with this whole revolutionary thing, and it's further evidence that there is nothing really to be won here, just keep fighting. And fuck it, have a beer or two while you’re at it.

I’m not a big car chase guy (I mean, I’ll suck Ronin’s dick like any other good little cineaste, but it’s not something I look for in a film), but Anderson’s use of car POV and hills made this one special. And watching it in IMAX almost made me a little sick to my stomach…in a good way. 

I guess it’s kind of a good thing that this movie is doing just okay. That way, it hasn’t become the subject of a political debate like I thought it might. Yet. If this wins Best Picture, or even just gets a ton of noms, I’m sure it’ll still be used by morons as evidence that the Hollywood Elite hate America and want violence across the nation. 

All the out of touch white supremacists had some nice old-timey vocabulary peppered in: teeny-boppers, reefer, etc. These pieces of shit still use 1950s terminology because that’s what they want America to be.

I could have used more French 75 stuff. There’s not nearly enough Wood Harris in this. Or Junglepussy.

"Once Upon a Time...Inherent Vice."

*As always, I write these articles under the assumption that you’ve seen the film, so...SPOILERS. (This also applies to Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood.)

I’m still sticking with my current monthly plan of Van Damme, Oedekerk, and western, but getting a chance to see Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood inspired me a bit. That’s why I went ahead and wrote a review of that, but it also made me want to revisit Inherent Vice. Basically, I wanted to rewatch Once Upon, but that wasn’t a possibility for me, so I went with the film it most reminded me of with Inherent Vice. 

Once Upon a Time...Inherent Vice

There are some obvious connections between these two films (the setting, the Manson references, the comedic tone, etc.), but the main connection I found was both films’ theme dealing with the end of an era. It’s as if Inherent Vice’s world is what Tarantino wanted to prevent by changing history at the end of his fairy tale. That’s probably why Once is a much lighter, funnier film than Inherent Vice. 

In Inherent Vice, the overall point (as far as I’m concerned, anyway) was the death of the carefree ‘60s and the birth of the paranoid ‘70s. This is evidenced by the general tone, especially the music, of the film, but it’s pretty obvious with the plot, when you can follow it, that is. You see the co-opting of the hippie movement (Bigfoot playing a hippie in a commercial, Owen Wilson being planted within the community by a government agency), and the general fear of hippies and drug users because of Charles Manson (when the cop pulls over Doc with Dr. Blatnoyd, Japonica, and Denis he lists all the things they’re on the lookout for and Denis even namedrops Manson). You get the sense that within Doc’s own life things were simpler when he was with Shasta, but now things have changed and it seems like everything is controlled by sinister forces. So even when they seem to end up together at the end, Doc is still looking in the mirror behind him, as if someone might be following him. Things will never be the same. 

This is what Tarantino laments in Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood. He’s more specifically concerned with Hollywood (hence, the title) than the general culture, but it’s still about how the Manson murders helped put an end to a carefree era. You get the sense of foreboding with Once Upon anytime you see the Manson women (hitchhiking, dumpster diving, etc.), and it comes to the forefront when Cliff ends up at the ranch, in an amazingly tense, creepy sequence. Overall, things are kept fairly light because Tarantino’s film is a fairy tale, not only for the main characters of Rick and Cliff, but for all of Hollywood, as well. Tarantino’s film posits that stopping Manson’s followers could let that world stay the same. You could argue that stopping Manson’s followers would not have stopped the change in our culture, but it is a fairy tale, so in that world maybe it could have. 

This is why I think Inherent Vice and Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood make a great double feature. And it doesn’t matter what order you watch them in. If you go with Vice first, you see a more historically accurate change in the culture, and if you follow that with Once Upon, you get to what things were like before and how it could have been avoided. I think it works better with Hollywood first, though. In that order, you get to see this world and its alternate history, and Inherent Vice becomes this darker sequel about what would have happened if things went differently at the end of Hollywood. Either way, both films create a world I wouldn’t mind spending an afternoon in.

It’s weird feeling nostalgic for an era I never experienced.

Feeling nostalgic for the world of either film is strange since I wasn’t alive during this time. It’s nothing new to want to live in a fictional world that I don’t personally identify with (like, say, wanting to live in the world of Star Wars even if I would have probably just been a moisture farmer or nerf herder…), but to feel a bit of nostalgia for a real time period I didn’t experience is a strange feeling because it’s a world I almost experienced. 

I was born in 1984, so most of my childhood memories are late ‘80s/early ‘90s. To me, those were carefree times, but I’m sure they weren’t to adults who had grown up in the ‘50s and 60’s. So I think this feeling that the world changed because of one or more events is something that happens to every generation. For me, it’s 9/11. But that also happened during my senior year of high school, a common time for people to start thinking more about the world instead of their own silly lives. 

My generation is unique, however, in that we will be the last people to remember a time of landline phones, no internet (at least no internet in its current ubiquitous form[fun fact: Pynchon included a subplot about the beginnings of the internet in the book, so even that was covered to a degree]), no DVR, etc. I still remember a time when driving around was a thing, and people had to track each other down to hang out and make plans. We had to look things up the hard way, and the world could be more interesting and mysterious due to our lack of information. Now, with information both real and fake being presented at a nonstop rate, it’s easy to look back to my childhood, or an era like the ‘60s, and think, “Man, I wish things were like that again.” This is all ignoring the common issues with nostalgia, by the way, like the fact that no time period is ever as great or simple as you remember it, and odds are it was a terrible time period for entire groups of people different than yourself. But at face value, that’s where my nostalgia for an era I never experienced comes from.

That written, it’s not so crazy to feel like there was a time in my life that was similar to Inherent Vice and Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood. With Vice, the main thing that comes across to me is the generally hanging out feeling I get as Doc seems to randomly wander through the story. I feel like high school was like that a bit: just living in the moment, not worrying too much about the future. As for Hollywood, I feel like the movies I grew up watching aren’t really made anymore, so Hollywood has changed for me. Once again, I think this happens to every generation, and it has a lot more to do with getting older than it does with cults and terrorists. But who wouldn’t want to live in a fairy tale where these terrible things never happened?

Why do I own this?

It’s a Paul Thomas Anderson movie.

Random Thoughts

“Someone might be watching.” The foreboding beginning is brought full circle in the final moments of the film as Doc keeps checking his mirror as if he’s checking for a tail. The era of paranoia had begun.

Brolin in that commercial at the beginning is the most subtly threatening hippie of all time.

“So while suspect, that’s you, was having alleged midday nap so necessary to the hippie lifestyle…”

Doc watching Bigfoot eat that chocolate-covered banana…

Now that I’ve seen Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood, I get the joke Doc makes to the FBI guys about “missing” an episode.

“What’s a Puck Beaverton?” Reminds me of one of my favorite lines from Game of Thrones: “What the fuck’s a Lommy?”

“[F]rom a bass player turned record company executive, which trend watchers took as further evidence of the end of Hollywood, if not the world as they know it.” I think of this and Once Upon as films very much about the end of Hollywood and the world as people knew it back then.

“‘Gee,’ he thought, ‘I don’t know.’”

I kind of disliked/didn’t pay much attention to Sortilege’s narration the first couple times I watched this. Watching it now, I feel like her narration, while nonsensical at times (the astrology stuff, but maybe that’s just me), actually sums up a lot of the film’s themes.

“Are you sayin’ that the U.S. is somebody’s mom?”

The Last Supper image with the pizza is one of my favorites. It beautifully visualizes Owen Wilson as Christ-like (mainly in that he has returned from the “dead”), and I remember reading about it in the book and PTA captured it perfectly.

I never give this film enough credit for being a love story. That scene with Doc and Shasta looking for dope after calling the number from the Ouija Board is a great moment that effectively captures what it’s like to be in a great relationship during a carefree time. It is the perfect subplot (in a film that seems to be nothing but subplots) for the theme of innocence lost as paranoia sets in. In the film, that theme applies to the changing culture in America at the time, but it can also apply to Doc and Shasta’s relationship in the end. They seem to be slightly back together, but the innocent, carefree love of before is gone. Doc is driving forward, as is their relationship, but who knows where it’s headed now? And when did he start worrying about where things were headed? Perhaps that’s the real loss of the hippie culture of the ‘60s. People stopped living in the moment are started living in fear of the future. But what do I know? I was born in 1984.

“You know it?”

“Shakes a tambourine.”

I have to remember to start using that instead of “rings a bell.”

This is the first time I noticed that Japonica’s dad was with the Voorhees-Krueger law office. Of all the unexpected elements of this film, a reference to Jason and Freddy is pretty high on the list.

“God help us all. Dentists on trampolines.”

“Did I hit you?”

I guess I just have a soft spot for movies that are about an end of an era without being too obvious about it.

“So you guys been working for the Golden Fang long?”

In the end, Shasta references it being like the Ouija day, and it being “Just us.” But Doc looks suspicious of this now. 

“Under the paving-stones, the beach!” I forgot this text was at the end of the credits. I think it fits in with my general thoughts about the theme of the film, in that the corruption, drugs, and paranoia in general became the paving stones while enjoying a simpler life was the beach.

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.