Soon.
Written and directed by Alan Ball, Uncle Frank tells a poignant story of how one southern family is affected by homophobia in the early- to mid-20th century.
It would be easy to presume the movie is about Frank, who escaped the bigotry of South Carolina to live somewhat happily as a college professor in New York City. It would also be easy to think the movie is about Beth, a teen inspired by her uncle who grows into womanhood during the flick.
It's not.
Those characters are simply a means through which the audience gets to experience how guilt, rejection, and fear -- both real and imagined -- can influence relationships and life quality.
Paul Bettany is wonderful as Frank, who is kind and thoughtful yet flawed. His double life -- he's one person at work in the big city, another with his family in his hometown -- is well managed until tragedy strikes and forces him to choose between the two lifestyles. Beth, played with great empathy by Sophia Lillis, serves to give the audience a front row view of the transformation.
I was surprised to read several negative reviews of the film. It was called "stereotypical," and "cliched," by some.
I disagree.
Much of the behavior you'll see in Uncle Frank really exists. I know gay men who live a double life because they won't be accepted by their families if they live openly. I know people who use religion -- you know, that "hate the sin, love the sinner" nonsense -- to dehumanize and degrade those in same sex relationships. I know well intentioned yet naïve people who have narrow world views simply because their world is not very diverse. I was one of those people myself a lifetime ago.
Most importantly, I know people who experience lifelong trauma because of, well, . . . all that.
Nah, I didn't see Uncle Frank as a stereotype. I found it real, tragic, and hopeful.
(A note to my fellow West Virginians: There's a brief-but-cool mention of the "Mystery Hole" in the second act of the movie. Pay attention as Frank and Beth take a lunch break from their road trip to South Carolina. It's brief, but it made me smile.)
My Octopus Teacher, directed by Pippa Ehrlich and James Reed, follows Craig Foster as he builds a deep, emotional relationship with a common octopus along the coast of South Africa.
My Octopus Teacher is beautifully shot and narrated. Its strength, however, is listening to Foster describe the relationship be built as he swam with the octopus every day for a year. He's a bit obsessive and driven, and wonderfully reflective. He credits his time swimming with the octopus for healing some of his relationships.
This may be the best documentary of 2020.
Like many, I spent a large chunk of my childhood fantasizing about having a super-power, and what I'd do with that power once I'd mastered it.
Flight? Flying would be a neat sensation -- the first few times, anyway -- and get me across town faster. But as my lone superpower? Meh.
Super speed? I couldn't afford the grocery bill necessary for maintaining the metabolism required for that lifestyle.
Invisibility? Fantasizing about that super-power always reminds me of a Porky's movie.
Super-Intelligence? Comic book characters with super-IQs always dress in nerdy costumes (see Mr. Terrific's "fair play" costume branding).
Super-Elasticity? See Invisibility.
Project Power, the Netflix original starring Jamie Foxx, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, and Dominique Fishback, shows us what our world might be like if a drug existed that would give you super-powers for five minutes.
5 minutes.
Project Power pretends to be a sci-fi flick about super-heroes, and there is some of that in the plot about a pill that gives enhanced animal-based powers to users. But really, the movie is a standard about a man fighting against overwhelming odds to find his kidnapped daughter. The plot is predictable, the script melodramatic, and the whole thing underachieves. The story builds to a dramatic super-powered fight where a character's power is revealed to be that of a . . . wait for it . . . pistol shrimp.
I prefer the power of invisibility.
