This movie is gimmick after gimmick. It’s got a gay, dying father, a protagonist who’s an artist, and a girlfriend who looks like she’s of the not-so-manic pixie kind (so presumably she’s also dying at the end)… There’s even a fucking cute little dog! So cute!

It’s not that individual scenes are horrible… but it feels very manipulative and schematic. It’s like they wrote the script based on a checklist.

There’s even a bookstore! They’re really going for it here. Was this script auto-generated?

Oh, now I feel bad:

Much of the film is autobiographical, and is based on director Mike Mills’ experiences after his own father came out of the closet following his mother’s death.

Sorry! If only there was a way to edit what I’ve already written…

OH MY GEE! Mills is Miranda July’s husband!

OK, resetting, resetting… if July likes the guy, there has to be more to this than meets the eye.

So the not-so-manic pixie dream girl is July? Then I guess she’s not gonna die after all. That’s a relief.

It’s… cute?

I realise now that it’s a heartfelt movie, but it’s just not… good?

Beginners. Mike Mills. 2010. ⚂

This post is part of the Queer Cinema blog series.

This movie has a kinda unusual aspect ratio? It’s… 1.68:1? That’s unusual.

I love the oddball lighting in this movie. Every other scene has some strange lighting setup. I guess they’re going for a noise thing? But it’s so uneven — some scenes look absolutely natural, and other scenes we’re suddenly in Fritz Lang territory.

Cool, eh?

Dramatic!

“He’s the perfect barometer of public morality.” That’s a good line. Rolls off the tongue.

This is pretty good… in parts. Then it gets really boring.

Victim. Basil Dearden. 1961. ⚃

This post is part of the Queer Cinema blog series.

This is really cool. Very odd and unexpected structure.

The cinematography here is captivating. It’s a carefully limited set of colours, but it doesn’t feel oppressive, as so many of these colour-graded movies are.

I love these abstract, but luxurious sets.

It’s like it goes over the same scenes, over and over again, and we’re hoping it’ll end in a less fucked up way.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like this. I mean, it’s Groundhog Day, but serious. I’m in awe.

Groundhog Day movies are usually played for nerdy laughs, which isn’t really the case here.

But… there’s a few too many iterations that aren’t… that interesting?

Like, this iteration isn’t captivating. The movie had been absolutely riveting up until … it kinda fizzled. It was a ⚅ until the last half hour.

The Obituary of Tunde Johnson. Ali LeRoi. 2019. ⚃

This post is part of the Queer Cinema blog series.