fabianigiraneza

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romcoms

There is a trend that is encroaching on romcoms more and more in recent years: love interests who have a pre-existing relationship. Friends from college who fall in love years later, couples who were once together and re-ignite their love for one another, childhood friends who realise that they loved each other all along. The buzziest romcoms at the moment, Always Be My Maybe and Plus One, both employ this narrative device. It is everywhere – a scourge.

 Romcoms are no longer showing us what is at the very heart of the genre: two people meeting for the first time and falling in love. They are denying us the meet-cute, an essential element of a love story. It’s a shortcut because the characters already know each other and the film doesn’t have to do the work of building intimacy. A lazy cop-out.

 As romcoms have fallen out of favour in culture, so too has the meet-cute. But the thing is, we’ve always known that meet-cutes are ridiculous. There are just certain beats that a romcom has to hit and it’s all in the execution. When the writing is sharp, when the actors are charismatic and share palpable chemistry - that’s what sells it. And when done right, it is simply glorious.

 Even the biggest romcom success of this decade, Crazy Rich Asians, frustratingly shows two main couples who are already together when the film starts. The most electric scene only comes at the very end when Gemma Chan’s character first locks eyes with Harry Shum Jr! But, alas, that’s when the end credits roll...

 The romantic comedy has been the cornerstone of cinema for as long as the medium has existed. It deserves better. It deserves a meet-cute.

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GAME OF THRONES

Ahead of the series finale tonight, a look at the most egregious character assassinations in seasons seven and eight:

 SANSA

Sansa endured years of trauma while she was separated from her family; why, then, does she immediately start plotting against her sister Arya when they’re reunited in season seven? They eventually work together at the end of the season to take down Baelish, but only after an interminable plot contrivance of sisters scheming against each other. We also know Sansa to have integrity; why is she made out to be a liar who immediately goes back on her promise to keep Jon’s secret?  

 DANY

Daenerys has been a benevolent leader who cares for the well-being of her people; the decision to torch King’s Landing was shocking and unearned. To wit: the writers say in the behind the scenes of The Last of the Starks that Dany forgot about the Iron Fleet and that’s what allowed Euron to sneakily shoot down Rhaegal. WTF. They didn’t sufficiently lay the groundwork for her character development.

 VARYS

Varys rose up the ranks in society by being smart and discreet.It does not track at all that, after learning about Jon’s claim to the throne, he’d immediately start openly plotting against Dany. Varys knows to better conceal his acts of treason.

 JAIME

Why spend years on Jaime’s redemption arc, only to have him seemingly bail on his chance at a happy, Cersei-free life? Why does he so cruelly and nonchalantly leave Brienne? Why does he tell Tyrion that he never cared for the people of King’s Landing, when we know that he killed a king for them?

 CERSEI

We know Cersei to be cunning. Why does she behead Missandei, thereby knowingly further provoke her enemies? Wouldn’t it have been smarter to hold her hostage for longer? How was that meant to work in her favour at all? Did Cersei really think she had a chance against Dany’s army and Drogon? We did she refuse to see sense until it was too late?  

 JON

We know Jon to be a skilled fighter. What did he think screaming in the face of undead Viserion was going to accomplish?

 ARYA

Arya repeatedly emphasises how important her family is to her throughout the show. Why does she leave Winterfell without saying goodbye to her siblings, and claiming no intention of ever returning? And, like Sansa, why does Arya start plotting against her sister in season seven that she’s just reunited with after years apart?

 TYRION

We’ve known Tyrion to be a brilliant strategist; where is that at all evident in the final stretch of the show?

 BAELISH

It made narrative sense for Petyr Baelish to depart the story when he did; he had served his purpose. However, the way in which he is killed was as a result of a dumb mistake that was beneath him. Trying to pit two sisters against each other is unwise, trying to pit two sisters against each other who’ve recently reunited after years apart and immeasurable shared trauma was just nonsensical. Baelish was a fabulous, sharp-witted villain who deserved to go out better.

 TORMUND

Tormund thinks strong women are attractive and he believes that women are as deserving of knighthood as men. Why, then, does he say that Jon riding a dragon qualifies him to be the best leader – right in front of Dany? Where did this sexist side of Tormund come from all of a sudden?

 GREY WORM

Why does Grey Worm join in ransacking King’s Landing when Dany starts torching it? Where is the rational general we’ve known him to be?

 MISSANDEI

This was just character assassination in a literal sense – they really chopped off the head of my fave from Naath.  I’m still mad about it.

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ON STAN CULTURE

I stan Lady Gaga and Serena Williams and Novak Djokovic and the Harry Potter series and Elizabeth Debicki and the German photographer Florian Hetz and many more artists and cultural properties. But I’m also keenly aware that my economic status has impacted my ability to fully participate in these standoms and how my upbringing has at times made me insecure to even self-identify as a stan.

 I’ve been fortunate to grow up in the age of social media where so much of the world has been accessible to me. I’ve literally been on Stan Twitter, Gay Twitter, Tennis Twitter, Film Twitter et al since high school. But I also grew up relatively poor in Namibia, and went to college in South Africa, so my lack of proximity to wealth or any of the world’s major cities has informed my relationship to pop culture.

 I was in primary school during the height of Pottermania when the book publications and film adaptations were international phenomenons. Books are wildly expensive in Africa, so I initially only had access to the Harry Potter series through my school library, and even that was a luxury because not all schools have such facilities. It was only in high school that I was able to save up enough of my allowance to buy my own copies of the books, another extreme privilege I enjoyed in a country where children can barely afford to eat, let alone receive pocket money.

 So much of what it means to stan something involves owning physical copies that you revisit over again and treasure and memorize. This is tough to do when you cannot afford to buy a book, when you have to return it to the library in a week. Another essential ritual of what it meant to stan the Potter series specifically was attending the midnight book release parties that took place simultaneously around the world, but which never happened in a country as tiny and impoverished as Namibia.

 Many of my contemporaries globally, millennials who are now in their twenties and thirties, grew up loving Harry Potter and still hold fond memories of JK Rowling’s seminal work. I just hope we can examine the massive layers of privilege inherent in these experiences: access to books and libraries, access to major urban areas where you can meet other readers and attend the fun book release parties that were covered so heavily by the news media at the time, access to computers and internet where you can further explore the vast Potterverse and commune with other fans, and access to assorted merchandise and paraphernalia.

 I had to learn over time that it didn’t make me any less of a Potter fan that I never owned a Ravenclaw scarf growing up or had to wait longer than others to read the books and watch the movies. This may seem frivolous, but when so much of your identity is tied to how fervently you love something, it is a powerful realization to come to. That you are not a fake fan if you just simply didn’t have the same level of access as other people. That you are still allowed to unabashedly call yourself a stan.

 I have friends who are lifelong Beyonce stans who only got the chance to see her live for the first time in December 2018 when she headlined the Global Citizen Festival in Johannesburg. Seeing your fave in person is so utterly intrinsic to standom – that’s why “come to Brazil” is not only a meme but also a rallying cry – yet so many bona fide stans just simply don’t have that option but are no less worthy of self-identifying. I will personally never forget finally seeing Gaga live for the first time, on 3 December 2012  when The Born This Way Ball made a tour stop in Cape Town, a moment that was most pleasing to me...

 As stan wars continue to rage all over social media, I just hope we interrogate our own privileges and recognise how our lived experiences inform our standom. I hope for more more nuanced pop culture discourse that is more understanding of different social factors, time zones, market availability, purchasing power, etc. We will all be better off for it.

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Riley Keough

I’ve loved Riley Keough ever since I was introduced to her in “The Girlfriend Experience”. She was so captivating and deliciously opaque on that show that it made me immediately take notice and follow her career from then on. I was therefore disappointed to learn that she’s in the new Lars von Trier film that just played Cannes called “The House That Jack Built” and it has forced me to examine if I still want to continue stanning for my kween Riley.

 I adore actresses and am the particular kind of gay man who identifies as “actressexual”, a term coined by Nathaniel Rogers of The Film Experience. But as my own political awakening has developed over the years, it has become increasingly tough for me to unreservedly love the work of prominent female artists like Kate Winslet and Jodie Foster because they have collaborated with despicable monsters like Roman Polanski and Mel Gibson. In some cases, they unapologetically continue doing so and even defend these men.

 Actresses are certainly free to work with whomever they want to, but I can personally choose not to support those who align themselves with rapists and bigots. That is why I find myself drawn to younger performers, like Elizabeth Debicki and Sasha Lane, whose limited body of work provide fewer occasions to disappoint me, and who generally tend to be more progressive in their thinking. I understand how unfair that is, but in this political climate it’s really the only way I know how to enjoy culture without compromising my conscience.

Riley Keough has made some smart choices up until now: she’s worked with fabulous directors like Andrea Arnold and Steven Soderbergh, and consistently been the highlight in each one of her projects. She’s also carved out a lane for herself as a stylish fashion girl by serving Chanel lewks on red carpets and starring in campaigns for Louis Vuitton. This has set her apart as a truly exciting ingenue to root for.

 That is why Riley’s decision to do “The House That Jack Built” is so utterly confounding and dismaying. We’re in an age of cinema where every choice by an artist needs to have more thought behind it than ever before. Trailblazers like Jessica Chastain are pushing this idea of art being political, and actors who have even appeared in Woody Allen films have recently had to reckon with their complicity and issue public apologies.

 Uma Thurman also appears in “The House That Jack Built” but, even though she’s a talented actress whose performances I’ve occasionally loved, she is not someone who I necessarily expect to be woke. She is just simply from a different generation. And even recently, after sharing her own harrowing experiences of sexual harassment by Harvey Weinstein and Quentin Tarantino, Thurman has revealed that she would still consider working with Tarantino in the future!

 I just don’t know what Riley Keough’s excuse is. Kyle Buchanan at Vulture called this latest Von Trier film an “incel murder fantasy”. Every dispatch from Cannes has confirmed that it is a continuation of the sadism and misogyny that has defined his oeuvre. It is common knowledge how Hitler-obsessed Von Trier is and how terribly he treated Björk when they worked together. How did Riley read that script and agree to it?

 Riley Keough doesn’t owe anybody an explanation for anything she does. And I certainly don’t need to understand all of her motivations. But I do want to support artists who are curious about the world and working to correct injustices and are cognizant of what their work means in a grander socio-political sense. I want to believe that Riley is smart and aware of how problematic this latest project is. Otherwise, what’s the point?

 A friend pointed out to me that Riley wears a confederate flag bikini in “American Honey” but I think that’s different. In the context of that film, my favourite of 2016, I believe it to be a smart costuming choice that illuminates that character – a racist Southern belle. In “The House That Jack Built” I think she is intentionally putting harmful work out into the world and collaborating with a monster. My friend also theorized that Riley was probably just looking for film festival roles in this particular case. So maybe it isn’t that deep? I’m resistant to this because it implies that she’s not thinking critically about her work, which would be disappointing in an entirely different way...

 I don’t know where I stand with Riley Keough in light of all this. I don’t know if she’s woke and if this was just an isolated mistake. I don’t know if I should remain a devoted stan. I’ll just continue to seek out her work and enjoy it, all the while hoping she does better. As, I suppose, we all should.

 http://www.vulture.com/2018/05/how-violent-is-the-house-that-jack-built-by-lars-von-trier.html

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Golden Globes

News broke today that Hollywood actresses are collectively planning to all dress in black at the Golden Globe Awards in January as a protest against gender inequality and sexual harassment. This made me curious about the pool of available black gowns by major designers, so I analysed the Spring/Summer 2018 collections from New York, London, Paris and Milan. Here’s a sample of what we’ll likely see on the red carpet:

Chanel  

Dior

Elie Saab

Dolce & Gabbana

Versace

Carolina Herrera

Christian Siriano

Michael Kors

Tom Ford

Cavalli

Diane von Furstenberg

Givenchy

Lanvin

Saint Laurent

Valentino

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WAR ON EVERYONE

War on Everyone is a profoundly conflicting anachronism. It is a 2017 buddy cop comedic-action film from the English/Irish filmmaker John Michael McDonagh and stars Alexander Skarsgard and Michael Pena as corrupt police officers, with Theo James and Tessa Thompson in supporting roles. It has moments of incredible grace, lovely comedic beats and a cast of talented actors. However, it bafflingly includes numerous offensive lines and retrograde ideas. It is truly feast or famine.

Any film that has Tessa Thompson and Alexander Skarsgard in significant roles is well worth seeking out. They are such charismatic performers that they elevate the material they’re working with in interesting ways. War on Everyone pairs them off in a compelling romance that really highlights the lighter, fun aspects of their on-screen personas and accentuates their preternatural beauty. They are given the opportunity here to really shine and they exhibit fabulous chemistry. At one point, Thompson and Skarsgard launch into a delightful choreographed dance to a Glen Campbell song that made me wish Damien Chazelle had instead cast them in La La Land.

 The film has many exciting elements. It successfully marries the lightness of the comedy with more violent sequences. Thoughtful philosophical quandaries are pondered, and there is a particularly delightful reference to Robert Mapplethorpe that hints at a deep well of intelligence the script draws from. Skarsgard and Pena employ a winning dynamic as the bad-boy cops. The music choices and cinematography are artful and lyrical in unexpected but gorgeous ways.

There are times when War on Everyone feels like it is grappling with large ideas. Feminism and sexuality come up for discussion organically during character interactions. The cast is refreshingly diverse which allows for multiple interracial couplings to exist. RuPaul’s Drag Race alum Derrick Barry is even featured in two fantastic scenes as the transgender girlfriend of a suspect played by Malcolm Barrett - an important instance of queer representation in a major motion picture that deserves to be lauded.

All of this, however, is soured by the racism and homophobia that litters the film.

A character uses the word “chink” more than once to describe Asian people. A group of Japanese characters are referred to as “Japs” and then subjected to an outrageously offensive impression of a Japanese accent. Pena’s character thinks “negro” is an appropriate term to call black people until finally he is told to use “African American”. After Skarsgard embarrasses himself attempting to play tennis, his two doubles opponents across the net who are dressed in niqabs gather their heads in apparent discussion of his lack of skill so he retaliates with “Alright, no need for a fucking jihad here!”

I was left particularly uncomfortable by War on Everyone’s take on homosexuality. As the title suggests, the film adopts a take-no-prisoners approach by swinging at everything and everyone. The tone heavily telegraphs that no topic is off the table but, in doing so, the film sometimes punches down instead of punching up.

As illustrated in The Celluloid Closet, cinema has struggled since the very beginning of the medium to depict queer characters in authentic ways, and has contributed to the ignorance and fear at the core of homophobia in society. War on Everyone unwittingly reveals itself as dated in the way it presents a main villain played by Theo James who is bisexual, British, cowardly, drug addicted and A PAEDOPHILE. The kitchen sink of evil, if ever there was one. He also has a redheaded henchman who is laughably effete in case the film’s disdain of non-heteronomativity was somehow unclear.

To wit, the cops’ informant (Barrett) is a weak, double-crossing liar so of course he is given a transgender girlfriend. The film makes sure to play for laughs the introduction of Kimberly as played by drag queen Barry. As a final kicker in this feature-length exercise in bad taste, the word “faggot” is tossed around.

I almost wish writer-director McDonagh had been working within the confines set by a larger movie studio with more at stake. They could have reigned in his more unacceptable inclinations whilst keeping the film’s backbone intact. This project had the potential to be as exciting a mix of comedy and action as 2015’s The Man from U.N.C.L.E but it is instead ultimately ruined by poor decisions.

In case one wasn’t already put off by the racism and homophobia, War on Everyone makes sure to spring further hurdles to enjoyment: a strip club scene just when women seemed safe from disgusting objectification, a quip about domestic abuse, a sustained theme of police brutality. This is all wrapped up in a muddled plot that limps to an unsatisfying climax.

I wanted to love a film that seemingly possessed so many appealing qualities, chief among them Alexander Skarsgard and Tessa Thompson. But I was ultimately disappointed by its digressions into vileness.