the groundhog day project

Let's go back in time to when everything was okay. Surely, that's a time that exists. Movies call us back, make us remember the past in very specific ways, offer up rose-colored glasses and limited perspectives to make the past be just a smaller version of itself. If it can fit in a script, fit on a screen, then we don't have to remember how it really was, don't have to remember that life was always difficult. As kids, sure, we didn't know enough to know enough about what was wrong. Or maybe we grew up in a cult that told us the world was ending and all those Cold War news stories and movies were going to come true so we never really figured out how life was supposed to work, never imagined the far off future would really come. And, now it's here. And, I just want to watch this nice little movie set in the 1980s because sometimes it feels like this future I've found myself grown up in is too far outside my control to be any good. Don't get me wrong; s...

In her review of Sing Street , Sheila O'Malley points out, "There are pitfalls everywhere in a coming-of-age period piece like this one." She argues that director John "Carney avoids them easily, keeping the film on its proper track" And, she explains how this works: "It's extremely confident: It knows what it wants to be, what story it wants to tell." And--coming back to the advice of the the other day--that's what a person needs to be, too. Gotta be confident. Gotta know what you want to be. Gotta know what story you want to tell, the story being you and how you present that self to the world. Easy to fake on the Internet. (I wrote a whole master's thesis about it.) Harder to fake in the real world. And, I mean real confidence, not the pathetic arrogance and ego-centrism that pretends to confidence online or, lately, in politics. Party lines draw people into corners where they're quicker to defend their positions out of the illusio...

Asked by Tasha Robinson at The Verge , in regards to the end of Sing Street : It's clear the scene in the gym [i.e. the band's performance of "Drive It Like You Stole It"] is a fantasy, because it's got that bright candy color, and things happen that are so obviously unreal. But in the boat crossing [i.e. Conor and Raphina running away to England at the end of the film], you spend a lot of time establishing the physical danger of what they're doing. It seems like if it was just a romantic fantasy, you would have just had them sail off together. But there was a point where it looked like it was going to end with them both dying in the Irish Sea. director John Carney responds: I wish they had, in a way. I'm sorry! But there is a side of me that wishes they had. Given the difficulty of people who are making journeys, and end up dying... I don't think it's supposed to be a fully real sequence. I think they're supposed to be quite brave, setti...

Author's Note: Color me a hypocrite, but I don't follow much, if any, of the advice I am about to give. Here's the present: I'm sitting on a pew in a church building someplace in Long Beach, California. My daughter's got rehearsal for a play and we're far enough from home that I just hang out during, work on my blog, watch some tv, read, whatever. Only my third time tonight, so I couldn't say there's a pattern but for writing this blog. I've already seen two movies today-- Wish Upon and War for the Planet of the Apes --but I don't feel like writing about either of those. I'm stuck in a different mode. Stuck in a loop. I was listening to the soundtrack to the Groundhog Day musical on the drive here. Between Phil's being stuck in a pattern he needs to get out of, but not for the reason he thinks; Rita being stuck on imaginary knights in shining armor from childhood fairy tales, but knowing that's unrealistic and not worth waiting f...

In her rogerebert.com review of Sing Street , Sheila O'Malley explains quite well something that should be an obvious idea: "A song can 'take you back' to specific moments in time, connecting you to a younger self, memories and dreams in a continuum." (Works the same for me with most movies.) For example, I will always think of a pool hall/arcade in Trabolgan, Ireland when I hear Bon Jovi's "Shot through the Heart", Peter Murphy’s "Cuts You Up" has me at work, sharing an office with two of my sisters, in 1995, "Your Eyes" from the musical Rent doesn't just take me back to the musical but also to a bus stop outside Pittsburgh, PA, Pearl Jam's "Black" has me in a karaoke room, my friend Jasmine screaming with surprise at how good I am (#humblebrag). When it comes to movies instead, I link Lethal Weapon 2 with a ferry, Ghost with a theater in Eastbourne, Cliffhanger with a theater in Maui. The odd movie vie...

When a movie talks to you like today's title, you have to listen. (In case you're new, my name is Robert. Today's film is, yet again, Sing Street .) It's like it's asking me to talk about something different, less nasal-gazing, manic-depressive, woe is me bullshit. More talk about the movie itself... Actually, one particular piece of the movie. A very small piece. But, an important piece. Since this is a film built on a musical foundation, any bit of music matters. And, I want to focus in on one in particular: when Conor first tells Raphina that he's in a band, she demands, "Sing that song off the radio. You know, the one by a-ha." Conor only manages the first two lines of the chorus to "Take on Me." Just "Take on me / Take me on." But, it is an interesting evocation, that reference, since Sing Street is built around music videos as well as music and "Take on Me" is known for its video. Daniel Kreps, Rolling Stone , 14 M...

An interesting thing about Sing Street --and I realize I haven't really said much about the movie itself, yet--is how many little moments are quite depressing if you really think about them, like Conor's mother Penny sitting out in the sun because her husband Robert won't take her on holiday to Spain, or Raphina talking implicitly about her father sexually abusing her as casually as the film shows us Barry's father physically abusing him. And, Barry's father's abuse making Barry the bully he is, as well. Or Brendan, who has to confront his dreams--"Once, I was a fucking jet engine!"--when he sees his brother becoming a musician. Most of these things are off screen, passing bits of dialogue hinting at them. One big onscreen one is when Father Brother Baxter forcefully washes Conor's makeup off. But then, there's beautiful positive moments, too. Like every time Conor shows up at Eamon's door to write a song and Eamon is delighted to drop wha...