Don’t Look Up (*BP22)

Remember the great Is the Dress Blue or Gold? debate that swept the internet in 2015? People spent hours discussing this topic and trying to decide what it meant if you were Team Gold or Team Blue. It was fun and kind of silly. That was seven years ago—we were so young and innocent then!

Another similar online argument happened just a few months ago when the movie Don’t Look Up premiered on Netflix. This was director Adam McCay’s latest work, and it created a brand-new hot topic of discussion that swept the internet for a few weeks. The film was a heavy-handed metaphor about climate change and government incompetence, and people either thought it was the greatest satire since Dr. Strangelove or a smug, condescending piece of crap populated by Hollywood A-listers who should have known better. Can you guess which side I was on?

I’m not sure who McCay thought the audience was supposed to be for this film. People who already believe that climate change is the greatest crisis we are facing right now don’t really need to be convinced that it is happening; and if you honestly think the whole idea of global warming is a hoax, you are never going to watch a preachy movie starring Leonardo DiCaprio. And yet Don’t Look Up was the third most viewed film in Netflix’s history; so whether or not people agreed with it, they still watched it. Not all of us made it all the way through to the end, though, and if it wins an Oscar for Best Picture, I am going to have to write a strongly worded letter to the Academy. Spider-man didn’t even get nominated!

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Zero Kernels. I have rarely hated a movie as much as I hated this one; not only does it not get a single, unpopped piece of corn, but the original  popcorn bucket is still upside down on the sticky floor of a theater with a greasy coating of fake butter topping, where rats will find it and lick up the yellow, viscous goo and it will get stuck to the roof of their mouths and they will never get rid of the taste. 

Side note: The dress was blue.

Categories: FlicksYouShouldNotPick

CODA (*BP22)

CODA came out on AppleTV+ in August of 2021, so it is amazing that the film has such proven staying power after six months; movies that hope to be nominated for Academy Awards are usually released as close to the end of the year as possible to make the eligibility deadline. For example, Don’t Look Up premiered on Netflix on December 24, 2021 (and what a Christmas gift that was—review to come).

CODA (Child of Deaf Adults) has a fairly standard Lifetime-ish family drama plot: high school girl wants to do something different with her life than what her parents expect her to do. As the only hearing member of her family, Ruby is relied upon to translate interactions with others that impact the family fishing business. If she pursues music as she hopes to, the business may not survive without her. Her parents and brother are all played by deaf actors, and their performances give the film an air of authenticity. 

The movie is charming and occasionally heartbreaking, and the expected happy ending was a relief. Watching this movie was like sinking into a good book, and I really needed everything to work out for this quirky family. I think the pandemic has made us all a bit more sentimental (at least this hard-hearted bitch seems to weep at everything these days).

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three Kernels. A heartwarming tearjerker that will have you crying like you were watching a Hallmark Christmas movie, only with American Sign Language.

Categories: FlicksThatYouShouldPick

The Power of the Dog (*BP22)

I had very little knowledge of what this film was about before I saw it except that it was a western directed by Jane Campion (whose work I love) and hated by Sam Elliott (who has a very big moustache). 

The story is set in Montana, 1925, and although Campion uses vistas from New Zealand as a stand-in for the state, her sweeping camera captures the beautiful desolation of the land and the immense isolation of the gothic farmhouse where two wealthy rancher siblings live. One brother is awkward and repressed; the other is a psycho who slathers his naked body with mud before swimming and castrates bulls with his bare hands. As Sam Elliott pointed out, this is not your typical western. It is a brooding psychological thriller with chaps. 

I watched this film with horrible fascination as the four main characters descended into alcoholism, despair and murder. It starts out a bit stilted and slow-moving and then builds until the tension is nearly unbearable. All of the performances are extraordinary, and Kodi Smit-McPhee is the skinniest, weirdest medical student you hope you will never meet in a doctor’s office. 

Hollywood bookies seem to think this is the odds-on favorite for Best Picture right now, and it does have many of the dark, brooding qualities that voters admire. I’m not sure that I agree with that; I still have a few more films to watch.

 “That’s what all these fucking cowboys in that movie look like. They’re all running around in chaps and no shirts. There’s all these allusions to homosexuality throughout the fucking movie.” Elliott also calls out director Jane Campion, asking what she knows about the American West and why she would film it in New Zealand and call it Montana, adding,
“That fucking rubbed me the wrong way, pal.”
He does go on to say that he’s a fan of her previous work.”

Sam Elliott, NYPost article

Side note: I have to admit that even before I read Sam Elliott’s comments, I wondered why the cowboys were working shirtless with just chaps. Seemed like they could get a bad sunburn that way.

Second Side note: Because apparently people want to know when there is a flash of Benedict Cumberbatch’s penis as he slathers himself in mud, I have added a new category.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three Kernels. It is powerful, unsettling and will definitely make you steer clear of dead cows.

Categories: FlicksIWatchedOnNetflix, FlicksThatYouShouldPick, FlicksThatHaveADick

Licorice Pizza (*BP22)

Is a coming-of-age film considered nostalgia if it follows your own personal timeframe of growing up? Licorice Pizza is at the top of countless Top Ten critics’ lists and has been nominated for Best Picture. But as a person who was approximately the same age as the lead character in 1973, I found the fact that I had an almost identical haircut then as a horrifying reminder of what it was like be a teenager in the 70s. And I am referencing the male lead, not the Alana Haim character.

Director Paul Thomas Anderson created a story set in that era that is very true to the hideous clothing and ridiculous attitudes of the time, but the film is a little too specific to the California lifestyle to be universal. Over halfway through it, I still couldn’t figure out what it was about—a series of random events in the life of kids? The stupidity of teenagers? How not to run a waterbed store in the middle of an energy crisis? When even the title has to be assumed knowledge, it makes those of us who were being awkward elsewhere feel disconnected from whatever the plot was supposed to be. (Licorice Pizza was the name of a record store chain in southern CA., but it is never explained or even referenced in the movie.) There are also incidents of casual sexism and racism that were part of the seventies, but sit uneasily for today’s audience.

Fans of Anderson might find this another winner, but I found it disjointed with unappealing characters. But it did make me nostalgic for the waterbed I had for ten years.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film One Kernel. A solitary, unpopped Old Maid is all I can manage for this movie, but I add the caveat that I found the seventies to be an awkward time to be a teenager and did not particularly want to revisit it. Younger viewers may find this film hilarious.

Categories: FlicksYouShouldNotPick

Oscar 2022!

March is the most exciting month of the year, where the Madness takes over and we fill in our brackets and start placing our bets!

I am referring, of course, to the 94th Academy Awards, coming soon on March 27. The Oscars have lost some shimmer the past few years; no one seems to want to host and face masks just did not work with couture evening wear. Then there was that whole La La Land/Moonlight Best Picture debacle a few years ago that just made everyone look foolish. But the Awards will be back this year—with three hosts!—and the dubious statement that nominees don’t have to prove they are vaccinated. Let’s hope Ricky Schroeder isn’t up for Best Actor.
Flicksthatmakemesick will attempt to post a review for every Best Picture nominee. (These reviews will be marked as *BP22.) Most of them are streaming now, so the fact that I’ve only seen a few so far shouldn’t be a problem. I was going to say I simply won’t sleep, but frankly, after watching The Power of the Dog, I may never sleep again.

Spider-Man: No Way Home

(This review is going to give away so many previously unknown secrets about the movie that it will be like Charlotte wove SPOILER into her web. Proceed accordingly.)

To prepare for this event, I watched seven of the previous nine Spider-Man films the weekend before I saw the new one. A good critic will do the work necessary to research a movie, gathering all the background information that will inform what they are about to see so their review will be accurate, well-thought out and aware of the history that brought the film to this exact place in the franchise. Plus, I am currently crushing hard on Andrew Garfield and wanted to see him in the Spidey suit again.

I’ve often wondered how critics can review Marvel films if they hate this genre of movie. That won’t be a problem here, as I have seen 26 of the total 27 films, including WandaVision and Loki on Disney+. (I have not watched HawkEye yet, because seriously, what is a guy with a bow and arrow doing in the Avengers?)

Marvel apparently wasn’t worried that combining all the villains and Spideys from all the Spider-Man movies might confuse people, and after bringing in over a billion dollars, it appears they were correct. It helps to have seen the earlier films just to keep track of the bad guys, but no one really cares once the three Peter Parkers show up. The first half of the movie is Dr. Strange opening a portal with a defective spell that frees all the bad guys from the first seven movies. I felt this was somewhat out of character for Stephen Strange to botch this whole escape from the multiverse, which is essentially a network of parallel universes that don’t usually overlap but has been corrupted by the time stones and . . . you know what, never mind. If you don’t know what the multiverse is, you are not the demographic for this movie.

It’s when the wrong Peter Parker steps through the golden portal that the movie really snares you in its web. I have seen YouTube videos of audiences leaping to their feet and screaming when the mask came off to reveal Andrew Garfield in the tight red suit instead of Tom Holland, who is the most recent Spider-Man. When the OG Spidey Tobey Maguire shows up, too, the director could have simply thrown away the script and let these guys just riff on great power and responsibility. The chemistry between the three actors is off the charts, and although there are also a lot of things exploding and getting zapped, the real electricity is between Peters One, Two and Three. 

This movie has made too much money for Marvel not to capitalize on this trio and figure out a way to bring them all back, but they had better hurry. Tobey Maguire is forty-six years old and that suit is not going to fit for much longer.

As a nod to the previous mission statement that formed flicksthatmakemesick, I was a tad worried that all that swinging from various tall buildings multiplied by three might bring back triple nausea, but rest assured that the camera work (or the CGI—I don’t believe there is a GoPro strapped to a stuntman’s head as he jumps off the Chrysler building) is as steady as Peter’s conviction that he is just a good guy helping out around the neighborhood and not a somehow invincible superhero who never seems to get hurt no matter how many times he is thrown through concrete.

Fun Fact Number One: if you made it all the way to the end, of course you know enough to stay in your seat for the extra scenes. The first one features Venom and a bartender who looked very familiar, but I couldn’t place him, until someone whispered, “Football is life!” Will Dani Rojas be joining the MCU?!

Fun Fact Number Two: all three Spider-Man actors have fallen in love with their leading ladies and dated long after the movies wrapped. Tobey Maguire/Kirsten Dunst, Andrew Garfield/Emma Stone, and Tom Holland/Zendaya. The first two couples broke up. Sorry, Tom.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three Kernels. It is clever and fun and makes your spirits soar as high as you can shoot your web. Plus, Andrew Garfield.

Categories: FlicksThatYouShouldPick, FlicksIWantTolick

West Side Story (*BP22)

The film starts with the most famous whistle of any musical theater score ever written as the camera pans over heaps of rubble and garbage, the only thing left of the former tenements and neighborhoods of San Juan Hill, an area of urban decay on the Upper West Side that was home to thousands of displaced African Americans and Puerto Ricans. A large sign proclaims the area to be The Future Home of Lincoln Center. Each frame is a master class in chiaroscuro and composition, and you get the feeling that this is not going to be your typical musical comedy. 

This is the 2021 version of West Side Story; a reinterpretation of the 1961 award-winning film, this time with more violence, angst, and appropriate ethnic representation. The names behind this movie are the giants of theater and film; Bernstein, Sondheim, Spielberg, Kushner, Kaminski, Rita freakin’ Moreno. The direction is superb, the camera moving around the streets like it’s one of the dancers in the gorgeous choreography of Justin Peck. Every detail in this film has been authentically researched and the character’s subtext explored just enough to make some of their choices make more sense. It is a classic remake of a classic film, and it is wonderful.

Also, it bombed, quite spectacularly, taking out the box office like the wrecking ball that destroys the slums that the Jets gleefully dance through while snapping their fingers. How can a movie with this much genius behind it so thoroughly miss connecting with an audience? There are a lot of guesses about why people didn’t show up, number one being the fact that we are still in what feels like the 147th surge of the pandemic. And yet there was another movie that opened a week later that broke all box office records (more on that one later), so fear of disease wasn’t necessarily the problem.

West Side Story was supposed to open a year ago but was postponed because of the original pandemic, the one before we started adding Greek letters to the vocabulary. Would audiences have responded differently if we weren’t all worn down completely by the constant torrent of terrible news? Personally, I am finding it hard to focus on anything that is heavier than a Hallmark Christmas movie. West Side Story has gorgeous music, but it is still full of violence, hate, tragedy, and grief. It is definitely not a laff riot, which is really all that I want to watch right now.

I’ve often wondered how actual critics (not the wannabees who are typing in their basements, like me) put aside their own feelings and depression and review a piece of art (film, book, play, whatever) in a neutral way. What if they are in a terrible mood for the same reasons everyone else is these days? What if they hate comic book heroes but are reviewing their 19th Marvel movie?

Since I am a huge fan of all musical theater, I had been waiting to see this film for a long time. And as I watched the Jets and the Sharks try to kill each other but still keep their toes pointed, I couldn’t help but wish I was in the next theater watching Spider-Man.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three Kernels. It is gorgeous and tremendously well-acted, danced, and photographed. It just isn’t a lot of fun.

Categories: FlicksThatYouShouldPick

C’mon, 22!

I look forward to the new year with as much joy and trepidation as Julie Hagerty in Lost in America.

tick, tick . . . BOOM!

As we try to open up flicksthatmakemesick to more people with the new categories, it is unfortunate that the first movie reviewed will only appeal to a specific group of people. How just like the internet to make a headline clickbait and then give you something completely different.

I am aware that much of the general public doesn’t really like musicals, and although I cannot fathom why, you may want to visit other sites to read recaps of Succession.

tick, tick. . . BOOM! is the latest (off) Broadway musical adapted to film, in a banner year that has already seen Dear Evan Hansen and In the Heights hit the multiplex. I would assume that people would want to watch musicals after the pandemic, because what will cheer you up more than tap dancing chorus boys? Of course, the subject matter of these shows focuses on suicide, poverty and early death, so perhaps these weren’t the best choices for 2021. But West Side Story has also opened, and is supposedly fabulous—except for the poverty, murders and early death. But the music is great!

Although my Broadway soundtrack knowledge has won trivia contests, tick, tick. . . BOOM is a musical I was not familiar with when I watched it on Netflix. The film recounts the early life of composer Jonathan Larson, who would go on to write the score for Rent, a show that would change the sound of musicals and influence countless future composers. One of those composers was Lin Manuel Miranda, who often credits Rent with being the first show he ever saw that showed him musicals didn’t have to sound like Rodgers and Hammerstein. In his film directing debut, Miranda poured all his love and gratitude into this story of believing in yourself even when no one else does. Larson died on the eve of Rent’s opening; although the film only briefly mentions this, his early death looms over the entire film.

I’m always interested in the different ways people react to art. I have several friends who watched this film; most were positive about it, saying they liked the music and especially the performance of Andrew Garfield as Larson. None of them mentioned sobbing hysterically during the swimming sequence where he finally writes a song he has been working on for weeks or feeling bereft during the parts that featured Stephen Sondheim mentoring him.

I watched this film the day after Sondheim died, and his presence dominates greatly. Although Sondheim was a personal hero of mine, I wasn’t aware of his practice of taking young composers under his wing and encouraging the next generation to write. The film takes on a different meaning when seen as an homage to this master, and the Sunday diner number is a love letter to his music. Add into this the depiction of an artist being blocked creatively in a way he never has been before, and anyone who has ever struggled with a new idea or concept can immediately relate and then rejoice when Larson finally breaks through the figurative wall.

I found this film to be thrilling and emotionally involving, with the final song “Come to Your Senses” a beautiful reward for having suffered along with Larson as he tried to write it. I was astonished by Andrew Garfield, having mostly thought of him as Spiderman and unaware that he could sing. (I hope he has a musical number in the upcoming Spiderman: No Way Home—oh, wait, he’s not in it. Or is he?!)

I am aware that an obscure musical about the early life of a dead broke composer who dies at thirty-five just before he finds success may not be on everyone’s Must See list. But it moved me in a way that I haven’t felt by a film in some time, and I hope that somewhere, someone in the tiny flicksthatmakemesick universe can share this experience. And if not . . . well, at least you won’t throw up.

The Popcorn Kernels of Truth give this film Three Kernels.

Categories: FlicksIWatchedOnNetflix, FlicksThatYouShouldPick, FlicksIWantToLick

What’s Passed is Past — Hurl No More!

flicksthatmakemesick is celebrating its 10th anniversary! Launched in 2011, we’ve had one whole decade of googling synonyms for vomit and using nausea as a verb. This site has had more comebacks than the Mexican food I had for lunch yesterday, as whole years went by with no one remembering it existed.

Happily, the bad habit of using hand-held cameras has waned; the peak seemed to be in 2013, the year that brought us Captain Phillips and Gravity, both Four Barf Baggers (our highest rating!). But what is a balm to our tummies is death to a website that depends on queasiness for its existence. We must face the truth that the Shaky Cam Era is over, and gratefully put down our Pepto Bismol.

But WAIT! This is the internet, and like the Meta-verse we all hate but still inhabit, we can be reborn with a different label even though we are the exact same thing! Since we no longer need to use our empty popcorn buckets as potential puke receptacles, we will now put different categories in them.


FlicksIWatchedOnNetflix—as we all hesitantly try to slide back into movie theaters, we continue to watch a lot of first run movies on TV. This category is very broad but does not include reviews of The Great British Baking Show, even thought that is what I mostly watch on Netflix.

FlicksThatYouShouldPick—this label is reserved for my very favorite movies. Some reviews may fit into more than one category, such as a favorite that may have been seen on Netflix, or possibly have Richard Gere in it, or is maybe porn.

FlicksWithGuysNamedRick—a limited category, because there are not a lot of actors named Rick these days (see above).

FlicksThatHaveADick —could be a movie that is incredibly misogynistic; or is maybe porn.

FlicksIWantToLick—a sub-category that is totally random depending upon whether or not it has someone I find hot in it. This does not affect the quality of the film and is an editorial choice that may apply only to me. YMMV.

The Barf Bag Rating System has been put in storage, waiting for the day that Paul Greengrass decides to go back to his old habits. Let us hope the bags were washed out very well before they were put away.

The new ranking system will feature The Popcorn Kernels of Truth: One Kernel means you may as well watch The Great British Baking Show because this movie is not worth your time. Two Kernels indicates the film was moderately entertaining; Three Kernels means this movie was pretty great; and an actual piece of One Perfect Popped Corn means you should drop everything because this film will change your life.

Coming up: tick, tick . . . BOOM! This shown-in-theaters-but-also-streaming film fits into THREE categories. Can you guess which ones?