Tig Notaro

  • Army of the Dead (2021)

    Army of the Dead (2021)

    (Netflix Streaming, May 2021) On paper, Army of the Dead sounds pretty good: blending a casino heist film with a post-apocalyptic zombie-infested setting is reasonably newish and certainly a great fit for writer-director Zack Snyder’s filmography. Unfortunately, there’s always a “but…” or two to any Snyder project, and this one is certainly no exception. The core of the film is fine — present Las Vegas as a zombie-infested zone on the verge of being nuked, assemble a team hyped to be able to do the heist, drop them in the zone, have them fight out various dangers, suffer the inevitable betrayal, whittle their numbers down and have the survivors narrowly escape the impending nuclear explosion. Good bones on that story, and Snyder sometimes knows how to make it look great. It’s the rest that doesn’t quite work. After a dynamite opening sequence cramming an entire film’s worth of exposition (and two or three low-budget movies’ production expenses) in five minutes, Army of the Dead gets down to business and almost immediately gets weird. And I don’t mean weird as in quirky, atmospheric or eccentric, but weird as in indulging in excess, puzzling tangents, extraneous bits of worldbuilding and elements that are far less interesting than they should have been (namely, the “Alphas” smart zombies). The most charitable explanation that has been provided for all this is that Army of the Dead is the first chunk of a more expansive imaginary universe that may expand to include aliens, robots, time-travel, parallel universes and (depressingly, once again…) a complete zombie takeover of the Earth. Maybe. [October 2021: First spinoff Army of Thieves, which I preferred to Army of the Dead, offers some support for this theory.]  But it does make the film a bit vexing to watch, as its overinflated running time keeps diverging in tangents. (But not all tangents are bad: the tiger zombie? Terrific.)  Other areas of the film are disappointing for more familiar reasons: Snyder likes gore a lot more than I do, and his sense of story is often deficient — witness the dumb ways team members are taken out. But at least we’re on more familiar ground with those issues. At least things are handled with a decent amount of energy and some appropriate actors in key roles. Dave Bautista is rarely less than charismatic and this time is no exception, Matthias Schweighöfer is a bit of an audience stand-in between obvious action heroes, and while Tig Notaro was added to the film during post-production (replacing a problematic actor via CGI and careful editing), she ends up being one of the clear highlights. It all adds up to a film that delivers the goods, but is held back in many ways from going beyond that. Worse than that is the feeling that Army of the Dead, like far too many corporate products of the 2010s and beyond, is incomplete by design — we may get the full story later if the vagaries of the market allow for it, or we may never do. (Or by the time it’s delivered, it may have mutated into something else.) But so it is in today’s mass-market movie industry: have a bite now, stay hungry for more. Just once I’d like a story with a resolution, a zombie film where they’re all destroyed in the end, a Snyder film I could just enjoy without going “but…”

  • Lucy in the Sky (2019)

    Lucy in the Sky (2019)

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) J. G. Ballard must be smiling in his grave—he was among the first, through his 1960s Science Fiction stories, to dismantle the mythical aura of the astronaut as an infallible demigod, and now Lucy in the Sky shows how reality has caught up to his fiction. Adapted very loosely from the true story of Lisa Nowak, this is a film telling us about a romantic triangle between three astronauts, although writer-director Noah Hawley considerably softens the details of the real-life story and unsuccessfully attempts to make its unbalanced protagonist likable. It’s all handled through some sort of mushy magical realism (or vague psychological drama), with visions of space intruding on the protagonist’s inner life as she struggles with recapturing the experience of spaceflight and begins a self-destructive affair with another astronaut. Hawley’s very impressionistic filmmaking even plays with aspect ratios to show the difference between Lucy’s fantasy life and her domestic one. Nathalie Portman is not bad as a southern A-type personality, while Jon Hamm and Zazie Beets are both striking as the other ends of that romantic triangle—plus two small but showy roles for Tig Notaro and Nick Offerman. Alas, the acting is one of the few highlights in a film that doesn’t even get close to fulfilling the potential of its inspiration. Lucy in the Sky deviates from reality by offering something that feels pointlessly small-scale, without some of the most interesting aspects of the original event. (No diapers here!) Worse is the attempt to create unearned sympathy for its protagonist. (Accordingly, the film was a near-legendary box-office bomb, not even earning a million dollars on a 24 million dollars budget.) Legend has it that Lucy in the Sky started as a black comedy for another director and lead actress, and we can only mourn that version of the film—it hardly could have been worse than what it ended up becoming. But at least Ballard’s saying, “I told you so!”