Movies
Princess Mononoke
“Sahr, say the line!” You got it: I’m not the biggest fan of [insert type of media here] [Studio Ghibli movies]. At this point, it sounds like I’m just a hater since this is a wildly unpopular opinion (borderline blasphemous, maybe), but allow me to explain. This was my second time watching Princess Mononoke. I’ve also seen Ponyo (as a child), Howl’s Moving Castle, Spirited Away, and The Boy and the Heron. I have the same issue with all of them, which is that when I watch a movie, I prefer for it to be plot-driven, and Studio Ghibli movies simply are not. They focus more on fantastical escapism and fairytale world-building, which can engender an array of emotions –joy, nostalgia, even sadness. The emphasis is on deep themes, simple life lessons, and a beautiful soundtrack, with plot taking a backseat. It’s no surprise then that Spirited Away, which has the most concrete plot of those I’ve watched, was my favorite viewing experience.
But perhaps it’s unfair to judge these movies by my expectations of what a film should be instead of what it is. I'm making an exception here (since I haven’t added such a disclaimer to anything else I’ve reviewed), but I sense a big component of the disconnect is due to a cultural gap that isn’t unique to Studio Ghibli. For example, I didn’t love Paprika either (a Japanese, non-Ghibli film) for similar reasons. It’s not Miyazaki’s fault that my ability to appreciate Japanese animated films is limited due to idiomatic differences, so I want to adjust my approach and try to evaluate this film based on how well it accomplishes its intended purpose.
To that end, I think the conflict between man and nature, which is a recurring theme throughout Miyazaki’s films but especially prominent in Princess Mononoke, was done with more nuance than I’ve seen in other films. Usually, the way it’s portrayed is that humans and technology are evil and nature is good and under attack. With the way the climate crisis is unfolding, that’s not even a bad take, but Princess Mononoke offered a distinct, more balanced perspective. Lady Eboshi (representing man) wasn’t wholly evil and Princess Mononoke (representing nature) wasn’t easy to root for. The hatred on both sides was the real villain. It made me reflect on the way I handle certain issues I hold at my core –issues that feel existential and threatening. I questioned whether approaching conversations about them with the intensity and conviction that I am wont to do – while perhaps justified – might be feeding the true enemy and costing me the understanding and progress I’d like to achieve.
If you’re like me and find yourself unable to fully appreciate Studio Ghibli films, my advice is to watch one with someone who does “get it” – especially if it’s someone you love. These movies are meant to make you feel, and seeing them with someone whom you care about who’s genuinely moved by them can help you experience that vicariously. I enjoyed Princess Mononoke more this time around because I watched it with Juno. We delighted together at the kodama, both cute and unsettling, and I kept thinking about how he watched this film when he was about five years old for the first time and wondering what that might have been like. I’m close to appreciating these movies as they’re meant to be, but it might take a few more viewings to fully get there. 6.5/10.
Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara
Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara (ZNMD) is a common favorite among Bollywood fans. While I can’t say this film hit me on a deep level, I appreciate its songs, its portrayal of positive masculinity and male friendship, and its overfamiliar but timeless reminder to live in the moment (the title effectively translates to “YOLO”).
A handful of friends going on a bachelor trip initially calls to mind The Hangover, but unlike that movie, ZNMD is devoid of extensive misogyny, racism, homophobia, and generally unattractive, juvenile fratty energy (mini-review). It helps that it leans more drama than comedy, though there are some pretty funny moments, most of which involve Hrithik Roshan as workaholic investment banker Arjun.
Overall, while it’s probably a “green flag” if a man has this movie on his all-time favorites list, I’m not sure if there’s anything particularly special here. It has charming moments and beautiful shots that make me want to visit Spain, but Zoya and Farhan Akhtar have done better. It’s difficult to pinpoint why I feel this way because there aren’t any specific issues with the film. It’s just that I didn’t find it memorable when I left the theater in 2011, and it feels forgettable even today. For a more complex Bollywood story about male friendship, perhaps consider Dil Chahta Hai. 6.5/10.
Meet Dave
Not a good movie by any means, but lots of fun to watch if you’re feeling dumb. Eddie Murphy’s facial and body comedy is the focal point, and the secretly gay character is scene-stealer. 4/10.
TV Shows
Silo
Apple TV+ once again proves with Silo that it is successfully carving out a niche for high-quality sci-fi TV shows. I’m not sure how sustainable or profitable these investments are, but as a viewer, that’s not my problem. After Severance and Dark Matter, this is a third hit for me, and I’m already looking for my next watch on the platform (thank you to Amy Liu for the original recommendation).
Based on Hugh Howey’s book series, Silo has echoes of Fallout: an underground society insulated from what is thought to be an uninhabitable, hostile Earth above. Rebecca Ferguson and her shifty accent fit well into the dystopian, rugged world of the Silo, and the mystery is intriguing with the viewer’s desire to uncover the truth aligning with the main character’s. My two minor quips are that some of the dialogue seemed a bit clunky at times, and that it was deceptive marketing to say that Common, who plays Robert Sims, the head of security in the Silo, is an “Academy Award Winner” (I looked it up – he won for Best Original Song). With the second season having just come out this past Friday, I’m looking forward to seeing whether it manages to sustain the caliber of the entertaining first. 8/10.
Owning Manhattan
SERHANT., the real estate company founded by Ryan Serhant, and its employees are the main characters of Owning Manhattan. Usually, I’m drawn to dating reality, but after Culinary Class Wars expanded my horizon, I decided to take a chance on this one – and it paid off. Inspired by the success of Selling Sunset, Owning Manhattan features real estate agents who are catty and cutthroat but also ambitious and entertaining. There are a few you root for (like Ryan Serhant himself and Tricia Lee) and a few you can’t stand (Jonathan Normolle and Jessica Markowski), but like any reality show, it’s incomplete without both groups. The fact that the properties were all in New York City – with some like Central Park Tower instantly recognizable to a native – made the show that much more fun. 7/10.
The Penguin
I suspected this would be the case in my first entry about this show, but I can say with confidence after watching the season finale of The Penguin that this is one of the best superhero television shows I’ve ever seen and possibly the best show of the year. Every episode was a hit, and the finale delivered the same standard I had come to expect from earlier episodes and more. I said before that DC has always done best when it leans into gritty noir. The tone of The Batman and The Penguin, which was also a defining characteristic of the Dark Knight trilogy, is most appropriate for Gotham, and the crooked city is most appropriate for the formidable, heinous king that is Oswald Cobb. 8.5/10.
Other
Sunset Boulevard
It’s serendipitous that my previous post focused so much on hagsploitation with The Substance because, the very next week, I saw the original psycho-biddy brought to life on Broadway. Based on the 1950 film, Sunset Boulevard the musical stars Nicole Scherzinger as the deranged Norma Desmond. There are plenty of reviews detailing how well she executed the character, so I won’t dive into that—seeing the show yourself will make it clear.
I’ll focus on the tonal shift at the end of the musical, which unexpectedly pulled at something in my chest. Most of the show is a comedy with Norma’s theatrical and ritzy shenanigans and over-the-top hysteria the object of ridicule. But at the very end, in the scene that includes the iconic line “Mr. DeMille, I’m ready for my closeup,” I felt very strongly the tragedy that is being a woman. Norma’s final moment of madness is not played for laughs any more. She goes from caricature to tragic heroine – lost in delusion, clinging to the fragments of a life that have long since abandoned her, and desperately desiring the validation of a society that disdains women for the sin of growing old.
One interesting aspect of psycho-biddy media is that while they frame old women as the subject of horror, they also have historically led to some of the meatiest roles for older actresses, such as 51-year-old Gloria Swanson playing the original Norma Desmond. Is that something to celebrate? I’m not sure.
A famous line from the movie, which is echoed in the musical is: “There’s nothing tragic about being 50. Not unless you try to be 25.” It’s said by William Holden’s character in the movie. Funny, though, how that didn’t apply to him. Well into his second half-century, Holden would still be playing a gun-slinging outlaw in The Wild Bunch (1969) and romancing teenage girls in Breezy (1973). He’s hardly the exception. Hollywood routinely shows 50-year-old men (or much older) trying to be 25. A few days before the Paul/Tyson fight (a relevant timestamp that I’ll revisit shortly), I said to Juno, “How come no one ever talks about how unrealistic it is that we constantly see middle-aged action heroes?” Don’t get me wrong: Tom Cruise is incredibly fit for his age, no one can do what he does with stunts, and I can’t wait for Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning Part 2. But he is 62. Brad Pitt and Keanu Reeves are 60, and they just starred in Bullet Train and John Wick 4. There are even bigger offenders, like Stallone and Schwarzenegger being 68 and 67 in The Expendables 3.
On the flip side, Maggie Gyllenhaal was told she was too old to play the love interest of a 55-year-old at just 37. Olivia Wilde, at 28, was deemed too old to play Naomi in The Wolf of Wall Street, a role that went to a then-22-year-old Margot Robbie. Geena Davis was told by a male actor 20 years her senior that she was too old to play his love interest. Jamie Denbo, at 43, was apparently too old to play the wife of a 57-year-old. Emma Thompson and Elizabeth Banks have shared similar stories, as have countless other actresses. For a more detailed and data-driven look at Hollywood’s ageism problem, and how the tide is finally turning, check out this post.
Now, back to that timestamp. I truly think people believed that Mike Tyson could beat Jake Paul (and why some continue to allege the fight was “rigged” against Tyson and that he “would’ve won if it wasn’t”) because we have a warped sense of what men in their 50s are actually capable of. As women, we are constantly reminded of the physical differences we have compared to men our age, so we typically have a reasonable (or even underestimated) sense of our abilities. For men, it’s the opposite. Like Cruise, Tyson is built impressively and going eight rounds against Paul (staged or not) is ballsy. But he is 58, and his performance made sense for a man that age – even a man that is Mike Tyson.
For some additional context and to calibrate my own expectations, I looked into the biological realities. A man in his 40s is competitive with a woman in her 20s. A man in his 50s would, in most cases, get physically dominated by a woman in her 20s (both speed and full-body strength). So why do we only hear accusations of “unrealistic” hurled at young, fit female action stars, and not the older male ones? Do we think men in their twilight years are equivalent to men in their prime? Is this how Joe Biden became president?
I’m having fun here, but I want to make it clear that this isn’t a dig at older men, rather at the apparatus that upholds the double standards. My dad is as old as Mike Tyson, and I think it’s great that actors their age get exciting, diverse roles, but I don’t want him taking on a 27-year-old man in combat or feeling like there’s something wrong with him because he can’t. Here’s the thing: those very roles that glorify men in their 50s and 60s as action heroes set unrealistic expectations that harms real men. It’s no surprise that many middle-aged men feel inadequate or frustrated when they don’t measure up to the Hollywood portrayal of perpetual youth and vitality. It’s a disservice to both genders if aging for men means staying exactly the same as they were in their prime, while women must disappear or shrink into invisibility. Personally, I’d prefer a media landscape that celebrates the complexity and humanity of all genders at all ages, treating each human with the dignity they deserve. 8/10.
