A deep dive into metaphor in mother! on CineVerse

So, you’re interested in a lavish art-house film with some top-tier talent, did you say? Well, check out one of our recent discussions of Darren Aronofsky’s “mother!” on CineVerse right here. 

As our moderator, Erik Martin writes, “In 2017, Darren Aronofsky opened a disturbing Pandora’s box he called “mother!,” a psychological and surreal horror film that delves into the life of a young woman (Jennifer Lawrence), residing with her husband (Javier Bardem) in a rural and secluded mansion. Their peaceful existence takes a tumultuous turn when an enigmatic couple, embodied by Ed Harris and Michelle Pfeiffer, unexpectedly enters their lives. As tensions mount and the intrusive behavior of the visitors escalates, the woman's once-serene life descends into chaos. Complementing the leads are memorable supporting performances from Domhnall Gleeson, Brian Gleeson, and Kristen Wiig. 

The movie's provocative and polarizing nature has further contributed to its enduring reputation. While some viewers admire its audaciousness and thematic complexity, others find it polarizing, viewing it as either pretentious or disturbing.

It Happened One Night on CineVerse

They don’t make movie stars the way they used to, and if you want to see one the greatest, check out any of Clark Gable’s films. You’ll see why they used to call him the King of Hollywood. While today people will immediately think of him as Rhett Butler in “Gone With the Wind,” two of my favorite Gable films are “It Happened One Night” and “Red Dust.” So, it just happens that you can check out our CineVerse discussion of “It Happened One Night” right here.

 

As CineVerse moderator Erik Martin writes, They don’t come much more timeless or beloved than It Happened One Night, directed by Frank Capra, produced by Harry Cohn for Columbia Pictures, and released in 1934—90 years ago this week. The film follows the escapades of Ellie Andrews, a wealthy socialite portrayed by Claudette Colbert, who flees from her domineering father to elope with a fortune-seeking playboy. Along her journey, she encounters Peter Warne, a recently fired newspaper journalist played by Clark Gable. Recognizing Ellie, Peter offers assistance in exchange for an exclusive story, leading to a mismatched duo embarking on a cross-country adventure filled with comedic mishaps and burgeoning affection. 

Set against the backdrop of the Great Depression, the film was crafted during a challenging era for Columbia Pictures, a minor studio competing with Hollywood giants like MGM and Paramount. Despite initial reluctance from Capra, who ultimately secured creative control, the production encountered obstacles including budget constraints and artistic disagreements. Nevertheless, It Happened One Night triumphed as both a critical and commercial success. The memorable performances of Colbert and Gable, coupled with their on-screen chemistry and impeccable comedic timing, solidified the film's enduring popularity. 

This picture remains evergreen for delving into topics such as class privilege, socioeconomic disparities, and the universal quest for happiness—messages that particularly struck a chord with audiences of this hardscrabble era. Its examination of these themes, presented with both levity and depth, imbued the film with substance and raised it above the rank of frivolous entertainment expected from a romantic comedy for 1934. 

Ponder that this is likely the best comedy that Gable and Colbert, individually, have ever starred in and quite possibly their finest performances, as evidenced by the fact that It Happened One Night is the only film each ever won an acting Oscar for. Although it was already his 13th directed film in the sound era, It Happened One Night is also the feature that made the world take notice of Capra, his first in a successful run of crowd-pleasing movies that the filmmaker crafted in the 1930s for Columbia. 

 

Exercising "Diplomacy" on CineVerse

If you want to check out another excellent film discussion on CineVerse, click right here! As Erik Martin, the moderator of our discussions writes of this gripping World War II docudrama, "Fair warning: The 2014 film Diplomacy, a French historical drama helmed by director Volker Schlöndorff and adapted from Cyril Gély's play of the same title, is one of those “based loosely on historical events” dramatizations that can infuriate scholars and historians. Nevertheless, even if it fudges the facts, it’s a compelling drama that unfolds against the backdrop of Nazi-occupied Paris in 1944, chronicling the efforts of Swedish diplomat Raoul Nordling, portrayed by André Dussollier, to dissuade General Dietrich von Choltitz—the German military governor of Paris, played by Niels Arestrup—from executing Adolf Hitler's directive to annihilate Paris before the Allies' arrival.

Dussollier and Arestrup deliver arresting performances, infusing their characters with depth and authenticity, while Schlöndorff's direction and the film's cinematography capture the tension and complexities of the narrative, effectively portraying the intricate negotiations and ethical dilemmas faced by the protagonists.

A film both deceptively simple and complex on CineVerse

Check out another one of our recent CineVerse discussions, this time taking a journey into French cinema. As Erik Martin, our host writes: Céline Sciamma, acclaimed director of Portrait of a Lady on Fire, followed up that critical darling with another standout French work, Petite Maman (2021), which means “little mom.” Starring wonderfully precocious twin sister actresses, the movie has received acclaim for its emotional richness, subtle storytelling, and examination of intricate themes. Sciamma's skilled direction, along with compelling performances and a heartfelt narrative, has earned it kudos as a memorable cinematic text that connects with audiences through its genuine and poignant depiction of relationships. 

Click here listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of this film, conducted last week. 

Among the distinctive, memorable, and surprising facets of Petite Maman is the fact that this could very well be a science fiction film. It’s easy to assume that eight-year-old Nelly is a lonely but intensely creative and imaginative kid who fantasizes these encounters with her mother, who has suddenly appeared as a playmate of the same age. But consider that we see her father interact with and acknowledge young Marion, and he allows Nelly to stay one more day at the house after agreeing to let the girls enjoy a sleepover. Also, recall that young Marion tells Nelly “I’m already thinking about you”; at the film’s conclusion, Nelly and Marion call each other by their real names and there seems to be an innate understanding by the characters, and the audience, that adult Marion has been positively affected by Nelly’s time travel experience. 

The casual but direct way that the filmmakers suddenly introduce the notion of time travel and fantasy, without explaining how or why it’s happening, is remarkable. Without exposition, we and Nelly are unexpectedly thrust into the past, and visual cues—like the grandmother’s wallpaper and bathroom tile—inform us, without fanfare, that a magically impossible journey is occurring. 

Regardless of how fantastically you interpret the story, this is one of the best family films and movies about childhood released in the 21st Century, a work that can appeal to any age but that can prove particularly relevant to adults who need to be reminded of the wonders and mysteries of childhood and what we can learn from our youthful pasts. “(Petite Maman) immerses us into the world of childhood where magic and dreams and the impossible are all still possible, before the world has beaten it out of us. It evokes the ethos of Supertramp’s 1979 “The Logical Song,” which is all about how the world doesn’t just expect, but demands that everything that is wonderful about childhood be left behind in favor of rigor and logic…(it) celebrates that space where everything is still wonderful, a miracle, beautiful, and magical,” said critic James Kendrick.

Discussing one of the great jailbreak films on CineVerse

In the middle of an insanely hectic schedule these days, one that’s had me neglecting these blog updates, one of the truly relaxing activities I take part in are the CineVerse film discussions. So I need to correct the oversight of not updating the links to our discussions. I’m starting with one of our recent episodes, discussing the Word War II prison-break classic, The Great Escape.

 

As Erik Martin writes on the CineVerse site: Released in 1963, The Great Escape abides as a timeless war film directed by John Sturges and produced by United Artists. Centered around a group of Allied prisoners of war during World War II, the film depicts their daring escape plan from a German POW camp, based on the actual mass escape from Stalag Luft III in 1944. Boasting a cast of renowned actors such as Steve McQueen, James Garner, Richard Attenborough, Charles Bronson, and others, the picture is renowned for its iconic scenes, notably Steve McQueen's motorcycle chase, etching itself as one of the most memorable action sequences in cinematic history. The Great Escape also resonates with viewers worldwide thanks to its evergreen themes of resilience, determination, and camaraderie among the prisoners. 

To listen to a recording of our CineVerse group discussion of this film, conducted last week, click here. 

The Great Escape offers an interesting compare and contrast from other war films, prison movies, and POW dramatizations. Many such works emphasize more explosive action, macho bravado, and impressive set pieces, as evidenced in The Guns of Navarone, Von Ryan’s Express, The Dirty Dozen, and Kelly’s Heroes. The Great Escape is arguably a more entertaining and emotional outing. For proof, consider how the filmmakers use sentiment, suspense, intrigue, tragedy, and light comedy to take our feelings on a roller coaster ride. 

Criterion Collection essayist Sheila O’Malley touched on this approach: “The film is about a serious subject, told without self-seriousness. Because of this, it doesn’t date at all. It’s an ode to ingenuity and cooperation. Sturges was not at all a member of the counterculture, but The Great Escape’s spirit is pure up-yours antiestablishment, making it a forerunner of M*A*S*H, to Kelly’s Heroes, to The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming, to all the deconstructing, demythologizing war films to come.”

Moreover, The Great Escape is, along with several of these comparative films, a fantastic ensemble piece with colorful and arresting characters and action-oriented actors popular in their day among male audiences. Interestingly, although he is top-billed, McQueen is on screen for a relatively small amount of time (mostly in the second half), which signifies that this is more of a group effort by the actors. Still, this is probably the best movie and role of McQueen’s career. 

 

“The Great Escape popularized the prison movie trope of an ensemble defined by emblematic handles. James Garner’s resourceful American who can acquire any number of forbidden goods goes by 'The Scrounger.' Donald Pleasance is 'The Forger,' despite his increasing blindness. Bronson’s claustrophobic digger is called 'Tunnel King'…The list goes on,” wrote Deep Focus Review critic Brian Eggert. 

This is less a picture about “the madness of war,” like Bridge on the River Kwai, than an inspirational somewhat true account of collective sacrifice. Kwai is also more of a battle of wills tale pitting one commanding officer—Alec Guinness—against his enemy counterpart. Additionally, in this story, the POWs are all honorable, trustworthy men; in Stalag 17, a major subplot is the presence of a mole/secret agent among the prisoners. 

Some, like DVD Savant Glenn Erickson, posit that this is more of a caper/heist movie than a war film or prison escape picture. “The schemes, dodges, and con games used by the prisoners to carry out a huge tunneling operation are a caper far more elaborate than a bank job. They're also entertaining, funny, and credible,” Erickson wrote.

Although this is set during World War II and the Nazis are the easy-to-root-against antagonists, this is a war film that doesn’t give equal voice to their characters, nor does it mention or hint at the Holocaust. Yet we are reminded of their capacity for despicable acts, especially the cold-blooded massacring of the rounded-up prisoners on the hillside. 

The value of teamwork, orchestrated collaboration, and group planning is a prime payoff message imbued herein. The Great Escape shows that solidarity among a group of individuals who accept pre-defined roles and responsibilities can create more successful and efficient outcomes. By assigning jobs to people based on skill and experience, following a chain of command, and maintaining discipline and self-control, even the most insurmountable of obstacles can be cleared. 

This is also a movie that preaches the perks of turning lemons into lemonade. The resourcefulness and creativity of these men help them conquer one challenge after another, which proves that out-of-the-box thinking, improvisational skills, and on-the-spot ingenuity can make a huge difference in desperate situations. 

The Great Escape certainly serves as a powerful grace under pressure narrative. Time and again, these prisoners of war must pivot, recalibrate, or start anew in their shared task of escaping and be willing to quickly adapt to changing conditions without panicking or quitting. 

Arguably, the most important moral to the story is shared sacrifice. While Bartlett aims to get as many prisoners out of the camp as possible, his minimum objective is to complicate matters for the Third Reich by forcing Germany to devote men and resources to guard these highly elusive prisoners and capture any escapees. The men know that, even if they successfully escape the camp they may not be coming back alive, and many altruistically agree to help without any guarantee of escaping at all. The fact that they made a film about an incredibly impressive mass escape by 76 prisoners, but only three of them evaded capture or death, tells us that this is a narrative more about sacrifice and selflessness than man’s inherent need for freedom. Case in point: Recall the dialogue exchange at the conclusion. Hendley: “Do you think it was worth the price?” Ramsey: “Depends on your point of view, Hendley.” 

 

“The Great Escape cleverly turns a defeat into a tale of victory,” Erickson continued. “No matter how it's made to look, the bottom line of the mass escape is (that)…a lot of rebellious defiance mostly gets a lot of good men killed…we celebrate the protagonists as they dare to defy their German captors…We aren't bothered by the fact that their efforts had little effect on the war proper. But the trial-by-escape with its risk and sacrifice was a personal challenge for men otherwise unable to fight: civilized defiance.”

Even parasites have the right to free speech

So, recently a couple of friends and some students had asked me about whether or not I was upset—one actually asked if I was “outraged”—about Alex Jones being allowed back in X. I am certainly not outraged, I told them, and not even upset. I had written about this a while back when Jones had first started getting deplatformed from social media. Actually, I am kind of hurt that they didn’t read my old posts about Jones. But in all seriousness, I told them that as someone who tries to be as much of an absolutist about free speech as possible—calling for specific violence, genocide, and murder must be a line any decent person should draw, however—I will defend Jones’ reinstatement on X as strongly as possible. However, I will also use my own freedom of speech to keep pointing out what a morally bankrupt dirtbag he is.

 

As I had also written numerous times before, as I did in one of my recent posts below, Alex Jones is a parasite. He’s a bloodsucker feeding off the grief of others. He has been once since the 1990s when he took advantage of terrorist attacks like the 1993 bombing of the World Trade Center and the Oklahoma City bombing to spin his yarns about the New World Order perpetrating fake terrorist attacks, or “false flag” operations. Of course, the day that must have been the highlight of Alex Jones’ life was September 11, 2001. The murders of 2977 people gave Jones the opportunity to build his conspiracy empire into a multimillion dollar cash cow.

 

Luckily, after he pushed past the bounds of decency one too many times with his lies about the Sandy Hook shooting being a hoax and the families of the slain children being crisis actors, Jones was found liable for defamation and now owes $1.5 billion to these families. Justice was done!

 

But is this any indication that Jones had been changed by the Sandy Hook incident at all? Of course not. He has been spreading his same noxious conspiratorial garbage on his Infowars webpage since then.

 

With that being said, however, I need to hold my nose in disgust and approve of him not being cancelled on social media, but only out of principle. This way more of the world can see the utterly unconscionable garbage he likes spewing and more people will continue speaking out against him. Alex Jones is a cockroach that needs the light shined on him rather than be made a martyr through cancellation. He’s not a truth-teller, not a “dangerous” man who threatens the system, not a maverick and not a rebel. He’s just a cheap hustler.

A modern crime classic on CineVerse

I’ve been behind on Cineverse updates—and I have several other things so say about other stuff, too, in updates coming soon—but check out our recent discussion of The Untouchables right here. Helmed by Brian De Palma, with a screenplay by David Mamet, The Untouchables quickly became a hit after its theatrical debut in the summer of 1987, drawing inspiration from the real-life endeavors of Elliot Ness and other law enforcement agents who banded together to take down infamous gangster Al Capone during the violent Prohibition era in Chicago. The film, produced by Art Linson, boasts a star-studded cast featuring Kevin Costner in the role of Ness, Robert De Niro as the notorious Capone, and Sean Connery (who won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor), Andy Garcia, and Charles Martin Smith.

This picture skillfully blends historical events (it’s more of a “based on” than an accurate retelling) with compelling storytelling, delivering an engaging narrative that vividly captures the essence of the bootleg era and the battle against organized crime.