Movie Reviews
THE BALLAD OF DAVY CROCKETT Review
Dominant Worldview and Other Worldview Content/Elements:
Strong Christian, moral, pro-family worldview promotes family, parental love and loyalty, a strong father and mother, boys begin to recite the Lord’s Prayer in one scene, and friendship between friendly American Indians and settlers, but there is some revisionist history such as title character’s first wife was actually dead at the time of the story, and he had already married a second time and had more than just two sons and movie says Davy Crockett at first supported President Andrew Jackson controversial Indian Removal Act, but he actually opposed it from the beginning and belonged to the opposing party to Jackson’s Democrat Party, plus the movie is marred by a politically correct attitude of moral equivalence;
Foul Language:
One “d” word;
Violence:
[SPOILERS FOLLOW] Strong and light violence such as villain has young boy whipped for walking too slowly, villain sets fire to family’s home, man falls off horse and is impaled by sharp stick, man shoots injured horse when they’re menaced by wolves, man shoots a racoon for a meal, Indian chases man, and then man fights three other Indians trying to kill the first Indian, man saves Indian from falling over a cliff, villains invade a family’s cabin and kidnaps the two boys, father fights villain and his men, villains beat up title character, man shot off horse, man stabbed in stomach, Indian who befriended father earlier and his tribal men attack villains too at an opportune moment;
Sex:
No sex;
Nudity:
No nudity; Alcohol: No alcohol use;
Smoking and/or Drug Use and Abuse:
No smoking or drugs; and,
Miscellaneous Immorality:
Fur trader steals from his employees’ earnings and kidnaps Davy Crockett’s boys for the purpose of indentured servitude.
THE BALLAD OF DAVY CROCKETT which has been released to theaters, follows the life of the king of the wild frontier, Davy Crockett. THE BALLAD OF DAVY CROCKETT creates a moral, inspiring, patriotic representation of the folklore hero Davy Crockett with action packed sequences and intense displays of violence. While there are some accurate depictions of 19th Century frontier life, the story is riddled with inaccuracies and a more idealistic and romantic view of the world and society at the time.
The movie begins with Davy Crockett as a Congressman in a meeting with President Andrew Jackson and his cabinet discussing the President’s plans to pass an Indian removal bill. Each member signs their petition to support the President. However, when it’s Davy’s turn to sign, he is reluctant but eventually caves due to pressure from the President. Before more discussion of the Jackson’s agenda can be planned, Davy receives a letter from his wife, Polly, that she has fallen ill. Davy immediately excuses himself much to the chagrin of the President who tries to manipulate Davy into staying. Unabated, he departs the meeting and begins his journey west to Tennessee.
Meanwhile, back at home, his two boys are having a difficult time taking care of the homestead. From cutting wood to shooting muskets, they are novices at almost every task, which begs the question why Davy would leave them in charge in the first place?
During these events, the movie follows the dealings of the Northern Fur Trading Company boss, Caleb. A greedy, conniving, arrogant person, Caleb discovers that this month’s beaver pelt quota is short by 25 pelts. Reactively, he takes out his outrage on one of the first men he sees, who is short this month, by firing him and leaving him with no belongings. Determined to find the pelt thief, Caleb searches the surrounding areas for all leads.
While galloping home, Davy Crockett falls from his horse and is impaled by a sharp branch. Disoriented and in pain, he observes that wolves are lurking nearby, ready to attack. Upon noticing the predators, Davy’s frightened horse sprints off to avoid being eaten. However, instead of trying to calm the horse down or scare the wolves away, Davy takes out his musket and mercy kills his own horse to avoid falling prey to the ravenous wolves. With leg bleeding out, Davy succumbs to bodily limitations and passes out.
Back home, the boys see that their mother is getting worse, so they begin to recite the Lord’s Prayer. The younger asks the older if he can pray to which the older allows. As they pray, “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be your Name,” the scene shifts to an unconscious Davy under the dark rainy night of the Tennessee sky. As if the prayers echoed into his ear, Davy miraculously awakes and makes a fire in the cold wet night.
The next few scenes try to display Davy Crockett’s skills as a frontiersman and trapper. He is seen building a shelter, shooting a racoon for a meal, and even capturing a wild horse that happened to not run away, not even once. Once the horse is captured and broken (rather quickly), he continues his journey.
As if the journey home could not be more exciting, Davy encounters a lone native traveling on the same path as him. Abruptly, and without warning, a chase begins as the lone native rides after Davy along a narrow path through the woods. The pursuit seems to go on slowly until Davy ditches his horse and sprints up a hill to catch his pursuer off guard.
The lone native, seeing that the trail runs cold, jumps off his horse to look around. Immediately, he is cornered by three other natives from a different tribe, who appear out of nowhere, like ghosts. Seeing that his then single attacker is now fighting for his own life, this leads to another decision in Davy Crockett’s journey. Instead of turning his back on his outnumbered attacker, he helps by firing a musket round as a warning shot. This action immediately puts him on the hit list of this new war party. This leads to a fight and then chase scene between Davy and his lone ally and the three marauding tribesmen.
The hunt comes to a cliff hanging halt when Davy’s former attacker, now ally, falls over off a cliff but is barely saved by Davy’s outstretched arm. With a miraculous amount of time on their hands, Davy lifts his lone ally to safety and then sneaks away from their marauding pursuers. After this, the two of them depart from each other in peace.
While this is commencing, Caleb and one of his goons track down the missing beaver pelt to the Crockett family’s cabin and bangs on the door, demanding to be admitted. Davy’s oldest son readies his musket and fires a shot as the door is busted open. He misses and now the whole house is taken hostage by Caleb and his goon. After much arguing and fighting Caleb says they will wait for the boy’s father’s arrival to settle the debt. While all this is happening, Polly, apparently too ill, remains asleep in the small cabin despite the gunfire and loud commotion.
The next day, more of Caleb’s men arrive to provide backup to him and his right-hand man. As they are outside discussing things, Polly finally stirs awake and readies her musket that had been hiding under her blanket. She tells the boys to run and find Pa. Once one of Caleb’s men enters, she fires her shot, wounding him and yelling for the boys to run. They manage to escape through all Caleb’s men and make their way to Davy Crockett, who’s now nearby. However, they are all quickly taken as hostages, as Caleb’s men catch up to them. Back at the cabin, Polly bravely attempts to give her sons more time by fighting her captives but is beaten severely to the point of unconsciousness.
After Caleb’s men bring Davy and his boys back to the family’s cabin, Davy finally comes face to face with Caleb. A bunch of accusations ensue from the fur trading boss to which Davy exhaustedly defends. Caleb shrewdly manipulates the facts of the case and claims the boys are responsible for not just the one pelt but all twenty-five. Caleb tells Davy they must work four years to pay back the debt, but Davy desperately offers himself as a surrogate. Caleb refuses, however, a fight breaks out.
So, the question becomes, Can Davy Crockett save his family from this evil man and his gang?
THE BALLAD OF DAVY CROCKETT has a strong Christian, moral, pro-family biblical worldview, which promotes family love and loyalty, and prayer. For example, Davy decides to return home for his family despite getting pushback from President Andrew Jackson. He also offers himself to the villain to save his sons from a life of indentured servitude.
However, many scenes in the movie make no sense, seem rushed or end abruptly. They also could use better transitions. The movie also contains some violence, including a scene where the villain whips Davy’s oldest son.
THE BALLAD OF DAVY CROCKETT is also marred by some revisionist history. For example, although the movie’s notes say it’s set in 1815, the movie depicts Davy serving in Congress in 1830 helping Andrew Jackson while still being married to Polly. However, according to all historical texts, she passed away over 10 years before his Congressional run for the Tennessee ninth district in 1827. Also, by 1830, Davy had already remarried, his second wife had two other children of her own, and they had three children together. Finally, the beginning of THE BALLAD OF DAVY CROCKETT says Davy initially supported President Jackson’s Indian Removal Act of 1830. However, history shows that Davy fiercely opposed the Act from the beginning.
In addition, THE BALLAD OF DAVY CROCKETT makes a false, politically correct moral equivalence between people groups. At one point, when the malevolent fur trader Caleb captures Davy, he explains why he wants repayment in full from Davy’s sons. Caleb says, “Without the law, our whole society will be overrun by the savages” (meaning the Indians), to which Davy replies, “We are all savages.” From a biblical standpoint this may true, in the sense that we are all sinners in the eyes of God. However, it is factually inaccurate to say that all people groups behave and act the same. The brutality and savagery committed by people differs from group to group. An example of this are people groups living in Communist China or in Muslim countries living under Sharia Law versus nations operating under a general Christian, biblical worldview, such as the United States. So, although it’s true to say that, during the Indian Wars in the 19th Century, the United States was not a perfect nation and didn’t always deal honorably with the native American tribes, research shows that the some of the tribes of North America waged war against one another, enslaved one another and even engaged in cannibalism before the Europeans arrived in their various territories.
THE BALLAD OF DAVY CROCKETT warrants caution for older children because of violence and the movie’s revision history and politically correct content.
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Movie Reviews
A New Dawn Anime Film Review
Perhaps there’s a certain irony in a story about a fireworks factory mostly keeping away from explosive drama. Yoshitoshi Shinomiya‘s lowkey feature directorial debut A New Dawn is at the very least visually captivating, comprised of lush and rather hypnotic production design. The story is small scale focusing on a trio of friends who try to save a fireworks factory in their hometown, but the imagery feels expansive and lush. A New Dawn begins with a beautiful and vaguely familiar display of this beauty: the flowing, painterly imagery of its opening sequence recalls Shinomiya’s work on the flashback sequence in Makoto Shinkai‘s your name., immediately showing that the film’s visuals might transcend its small town drama.
A background artist himself on films by Makoto Shinkai as well as the similarly resplendent Pompo: The Cinéphile, it makes sense that this history would be felt in the background works of A New Dawn. They’re dense with detail, rich with almost luminous color and illustrative texture. Shinomiya, who also wrote and storyboarded the film, veers away from the photorealism associated with someone like Shinkai through some impressionist touches – like the splotches of green paint which represent treelines – which sometimes turns into outright abstraction like when a character begins to run through the space. Sometimes there are swaying, morphing textures in the background as splotches of paint subtly shift around. On a more intimate level, the cluttered and characterful interior spaces tell a story too. This is a long-winded way of saying A New Dawn looks really, really good.
It’s not just in the tableaux of its countryside habitats and ramshackle living spaces carved out of abandoned warehouses, but there’s a sense of invention permeating through A New Dawn‘s various experiments with visual languages of animation. The most prominent is an incredibly charming stop motion animated sequence using a cardboard diorama and real human hands invading the shot in a creative reflection of a drunken character’s perspective. Even though it broadly still looks “anime” through its character design, there are also smaller details which work to set A New Dawn apart from its contemporaries, touches like its occasional lineless artwork or the way rain is defined through smudged black brushstrokes.
It’s in the screenwriting where A New Dawn begins to feel more run of the mill. Its story about the constant chasing of the majesty of a fabled firework “Shuhari” feels both familiar in its premise but also a little bit alienating in its structure. The importance of the firework itself never feels clear – the moment its mystery is unravelled hardly feels like a revelation as a result, something amplified by how the writing often obfuscates what anyone is talking about. The whole story feels a little distancing, and despite the allure of the background art and design of the spaces the characters inhabit, the people themselves feel constantly at arms length.
It almost pulls things back with its climax – the detonation of the “Shuhari” goes a long way in justifying the circular conversations about its nature and origins – a painted streak of light launches into the sky before turning into something otherworldly, suddenly tripling down on the film’s captivating exaggerations.
Movie Reviews
Hollywood Pariah Kevin Spacey Opens in a Straight to Video Movie with 25 Producers, 1 Review, No Theaters, No Press – Showbiz411
As we know, Kevin Spacey is a pariah in Hollywood.
He’s in a rare club with Mel Gibson, Armie Hammer, Nate Parker, Jonathan Majors, and James Franco.
Spacey has managed to avoid jail time by reaching settlements with various accusers of sexual malfeasance, all men.
His film career — which included two Oscars and a Tony Award — has been destroyed.
Spacey has been reduced to appearing in straight to video films, made for whatever reason the various producers involved know only to themselves.
On Friday, a new Spacey movie surfaced against its will, but not in theaters. It also went straight to video. “1780” is a period piece set during the Revolutionary War. Spacey plays a toothless Pennsylvania country trapper.
There is no rating on Rotten Tomatoes, largely because there is only one review. The review by Alan Ng of Film Threat is positive. Ng recently reviewed “World War Bigfoot,” which he also liked. He seems to specialize in reviewing films no one has heard of.
“1780” does boast 25 producers who will probably not see a return on their investment. But they can say they made a movie with Kevin Spacey.
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Movie Reviews
‘House of Criticism’ Review: A Pensive and Touching Portrait of Married Art Critics Jerry Saltz and Roberta Smith (It Is Only, at Moments, a True-Life Christopher Guest Movie)
If you wanted to be funny about it, you could say that Jerry Saltz and Roberta Smith, who occupy the center of the documentary “House of Criticism,” are like characters out of a Christopher Guest movie. Both are venerable New York art critics — but the thing is, they’re married New York art critics, whose lives revolve entirely around art and art criticism and talking about art and art criticism. They eat, breathe, sleep and dream it. In the Guest mockumentary of my imagination, the two would be played by Bob Balaban and Parker Posey, and they would be blissfully cracked egghead eccentrics who think that art is the most important thing in the world because it’s the most important thing in the world to them.
At moments, “House of Criticism” does throw off unintentional comic sparks of art-world insularity. But I’m kidding, ultimately, since underneath that it’s a pensive and touching documentary, and it happens to be about two writers I greatly admire. Roberta Smith, the co-chief art critic of the New York Times, and Jerry Saltz, the art critic of New York magazine, are writers of sway, elegance, legend. They’re two of the last powerful legacy critics in America, and both are fantastic writers. For them, the love of art is a mission, at once sophisticated and childlike. Roberta calls art “the most advanced operating system that our species has devised to explore consciousness, the seen and the unseeable.” The way art connects (and saves) these two on a daily basis is its own rarefied story, and it speaks to a certain vanishing culture of passionate New York literary brainiacs that used to be thought of as almost the essence of the city.
Early on, Jerry stands before Picasso’s epochal Les Demoiselles d’Avignon at the Museum of Modern Art and does a head-spinning riff on it, describing how 500 years of art history collapsed in the late 19th century (through Manet, the Impressionists, Van Gogh, Cezanne), leaving the blank slate for Picasso to fill. He compares the way the painting remade the world to the cataclysm of 9/11 (“When we believed in one course of history, and obviously there was another course of history, and they shattered”). Now that’s criticism.
As “House of Criticism” shows us, Jerry Saltz and Roberta Smith are luminaries and survivors who enjoy an idealized life together. Roberta is something of a contradiction, both the haughtier and more vulnerable of the two. She can be imperious in that Timesian way, but there’s a tremulous insecurity about her. Beneath a certain Midwestern patrician rigor, she’s full of self-doubt about her writing and is in constant need of encouragement, which Jerry is more than happy to provide. He’s blustery and big picture-oriented, while her insights are more delicate and intimate, blooming out of her holy communion with the work.
Jerry is a contradiction as well, a man who writes like a demon and looks like a dentist. But don’t let his fubsy aura fool you — he’s the social butterfly and loose cannon, plugged into social media (which he plays like a violin), and the audacious thoughts pour out of him. The most telling aspect of their relationship is that as writers they should be competitors, but instead they’re spiritual collaborators; they turn what could be a competition into a romance. They help each other on word choices, and even when they’re reviewing the same show, they’re really competing with themselves, with their own cultivated and highly different ideas of perfectionism.
Their relationship is built, to a large degree, around Jerry’s belief that Roberta is the superior critic — but this, for Jerry, is a form of chivalry, the flower of their love story. “Your writing is so condensed, right on the object, focused,” he says. He’s intensely supportive, but Jerry, who won the Pulitzer Prize for criticism in 2018, is arguably the greater writer (his poetic showmanship flies higher), and it’s my reading that deep down he knows it. It’s his perpetual self-deprecation and devotion that keeps the marriage balanced.
The two have no children and no apparent hobbies outside of their unrelenting obsession with art. They slip in and out of gallery openings, where they’re treated like royalty, and they attend 20 to 30 shows a week. By all rights, they should have a social calendar that rivals Andy Warhol’s in the ’70s. But here’s the joke: They adore their life together but are so devoted to their work, so monastic about it, that they never go out. Jerry calls them “happy losers” and describes their spacious apartment off Fifth Avenue in Greenwich Village as “the house that criticism built.”
In the morning, he pours deli coffee over ice into a 7-11 Big Gulp cup, and he’ll consume three of those a day. It’s fuel, as is the food he eats. When his friend Adam Platt, the New York magazine restaurant critic, asks Jerry what his favorite food is, Jerry replies: the grilled chicken at Gristede’s (a slightly downscale New York supermarket). “That’s the life of the mind!” says Platt. “You’re as happy with prison food.” He’s not kidding. I live in the same neighborhood and use Gristede’s as a convenience store, and I would never consider buying the grilled chicken there. But as Jerry explains, popping a bag of spinach into the microwave, he and Roberta are so consumed with work that they subsist on this drone food. The two barely go to restaurants (though we see them having breakfast at their favorite diner). Do they drink? If I was them, I’d need a cocktail by the end of the day, but the movie never says.
“House of Criticism,” directed by Alison Chernick, has a sketchy but rather controlled vantage. There’s a lot you don’t learn (I would have liked to see more about the politics of the New York art world), and plenty you do — like the fact that Lena Dunham is their goddaughter. Late in the movie, she comes over to visit them and provokes a penetrating exchange on the subject of why they never had kids.
People don’t often think of critics in humanistic terms, but these two invest criticism with soul, and there’s something disarming about how they were both damaged people who came together by seeing, in each other, a mirror image. She was born in New York and raised in Kansas, moving back to Manhattan in her early twenties to be part of the art scene (her mentor was the artist and critic Donald Judd). She found her way to criticism as a role in life, yet there was something metaphysically lonely about her.
It’s Jerry who comes from trauma. His mother, who committed suicide when he was 10, was erased out of his life (she was never spoken of again). He tells a haunting story about how she dropped him off for a solo visit to the Art Institute of Chicago just two weeks before her death, and it was there, on that visit, that the art lightbulb went off: He realized that every painting is a story. He wanted to be a painter, and tried (he had some talent), but thought that he lacked the proper schooling. What he really lacked was confidence. In photographs from the time, Jerry looks like he could be Richard Dreyfuss’s sad-sack brother. He wound up becoming a long-distance trucker, driving 10-wheelers full of paintings (he did this for 10 years), and he confesses that at moments he would go back into the truck and stomp on paintings and damage them. That is seriously sick behavior (his self-hatred was off the charts), and it’s amazing that he became the menschy person he did.
These two have thrived as critics by evolving. Jerry says of critics, “We have to adapt to the times, or we’re bullies and geezers.” He’s right. The film culminates in Roberta’s ultimate evolution — her decision to retire from the New York Times. The time feels right, but the question hovers: Without that job, what will her identity be? In a moving moment, she tells Jerry, “You’re my infrastructure.” “You’re mine,” he says. (That’s the critic version of “You complete me.”) And seeing each other through the prism of art is both of their infrastructure. These two are standard-bearers for the glory of a culture that once was. It’s a culture where criticism is about judging things, but more than that it’s about exploring things — experiencing things, bringing you closer to life.
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