"Everything is as it should be."

                                                                                  - Benjamin Purcell Morris

 

 

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Pam and Tommy: A TV Review

HULU’S PAM AND TOMMY STARTS STRONG BUT ENDS UP BEING A RATHER FLACCID FABLE.

Pam and Tommy, the Hulu miniseries that dramatizes the events around the creation, theft and distribution of the infamous 1990’s Pamela Anderson-Tommy Lee sex tape, could have been great.

For instance, the eight-episode series boasted remarkable performances from its two leads, Lily James and Sebastian Stan, who transformed into Baywatch babe Pamela Anderson and Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee respectively, and turned those walking cartoon characters into multi-dimensional human beings.

The series also performed the miracle of making Seth Rogan (also a producer on the series), who plays Rand Gauthier – the guy who stole the sex tape from Lee’s safe, less repulsive than usual. No small feat.

In addition, Craig Gillespie, the director of the terrific 2017 film I, Tonya, directed the first three episodes of the series, which were immensely entertaining and intriguing.

Yet, despite having all of these things going for it, Pam and Tommy in its final five episodes managed to, like a drunken Tommy Lee, stumble over its giant dick and fall flat on its face.

The series opening Gillespie directed Pam and Tommy episodes were imaginative, visually interesting, taut and well-paced. But the wheels came off the wagon after Gillespie left the directing chair and the series went from a hearty jaunt to a grueling death march.

A major issue in episodes four – eight was that the series lost its deft touch and became egregiously heavy-handed in its cultural politics. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with using cultural politics as the sub-text for a story, and Gillespie does that masterfully in the first three episodes, but the other directors, most notably Lake Bell in episodes four and seven, get bogged down in the mire of heavy-handed misogyny moaning and man-hating to the point of absurdity.

For example, in episode seven, Pamela Anderson is not only portrayed as an exploited victim of a ruthless and misogynist patriarchy, but also as some undiscovered cinematic genius for how she shot the sex tape in question. The women waxing poetic about the subtle intricacies of the sex tape want you to think Pam was Kurosawa with fake tits because she had the camera aimed at Tommy’s face as opposed to his genitals while they had sex. Maybe, just maybe, that shot wasn’t an artistic or creative choice, but was just a function of Pam being unable to think straight under orgasmic duress or her not being able to get a wide enough shot to capture the infamous anaconda in Tommy’s trousers.  

Regardless, Lake Bell’s direction in episode seven, in particular, is laughable for its ham-handedness and amateurish lack of subtlety and nuance.

What makes the final five episodes so disappointing is that the first three were so good. For example, the sequences where working class Rand has to interact with detached-from-reality-rich-guy Tommy, and the ones where the emotionally walking wounded Pam and Tommy meet and fall in love, are fantastic. And the sequences where Tommy and his personality-plus pecker have a tete-a-tete are the height of director Gillespie’s absurdist glory.

But once the players and the basics of the story are established in the first three episodes, the final five fail to close the deal as the story loses momentum and wanders aimlessly and repetitively through a melo-dramatic desert.

As disappointing as the series is overall, there is no denying the extraordinary work of Lily James and Sebastian Stan. James gives an amazing performance as she perfectly captures the persona of Pamela Anderson, and imbues it with a genuine humanity that is captivating and often quite moving.

Stan too is astonishing as the aggressively adolescent Lee. Stan gives the cartoonish drummer a vivid inner life and fills all of his endless mugging and posing with a profundity and poignance that is startling to behold.

The rest of the cast though do mostly mediocre work mostly because they’re not asked to do much more. As previously stated, Seth Rogan at first is interesting as the religiously and spiritually conflicted Rand, but then as his story becomes less compelling, so does Rogan.

Taylor Shilling, Andrew Dice Clay and Nick Offerman all have supporting roles of various sizes, but none of them do any notable work at all.

The story of the sex tape of Pam Anderson and Tommy Lee, and how it came to be and saw the light of day and spread via the internet, is a truly interesting and relevant story, as it says a great deal about the decadent and decaying state of our culture and country.

Watching Pam and Tommy, who are so desperate to be famous, become victims of the celebrity culture they cultivate and the fame to which they’re addicted, should have been insightful if not profound, but unfortunately, Pam and Tommy fails to elevate this modern-day myth and fable into anything more than a tedious tabloid tantrum.

 ©2022

Hearts Beat Loud: A Review

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!!! THERE ARE ZERO SPOILERS IN THIS REVIEW!!****

My Rating: 1.75 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. Absolutely no need to see this frivolous and flimsy film. 

Hearts Beat Loud, written and directed by Brett Haley, is the story of widower Frank Fisher and his teenage daughter Sam as they they make music in Brooklyn while she prepares to leave for college in Los Angeles. The film stars Nick Offerman (Frank) and Kiersey Clemons (Sam), with supporting turns from Ted Danson, Blythe Danner and Toni Colette.

Hearts Beat Loud is the type of film that I would usually never see, but due to the joys of MoviePass, I decided to roll the dice and check it out. Now having seen it, I realize that there is a reason I do not see movies like this…and that is because they are completely and totally frivolous in every single way. 

Hearts Beat Loud is not a drama, it is not a comedy, it is not anything. It is not good, it is not bad, it is ninety minutes of absolutely nothing. Totally forgettable…literally…I remember next to nothing about the movie. It is the equivalent of a cinematic lobotomy. You may think I hated the movie, I didn't, but out of my love for cinema I do feel an aggressive indifference to Hearts Beat Loud

The film feels like an extended, single camera, HBO sitcom set in a progressive utopia with all of the requisite indy music and emphasis on diversity. For instance, Frank Fisher is White but his daughter Sam is Black, and just to check off one more inclusivity box, Sam is also a lesbian. None of this is cause for the least bit of drama, God forbid, and it all passes with a consciously evolved non-comment to signal that the film is totally and completely "woke". To add to the diversity festival, Frank's best friend Dave, played by Ted Danson, is a gay stoner…but to the film's great shame he is, sadly, White. 

Hearts Beat Loud is so soaked in progressive wokeness that it is little more than a liberal version of one of those saccharine, Kirk Cameron, 'The Baby Jesus saved the farm on Christmas' type of movies that only the most philistine right-wing true believers go see.

The multiple narratives at play in Hearts Beat Loud all feel excruciatingly manufactured and are a testament to Brett Haley's ineffectual writing and deficient direction. For instance, there is a B story about Frank's mother, Marianne, played by Blythe Danner, that is so idiotically useless it seems like a form of workfare for Ms. Danner, either that or she was collecting on a bet.

The secondary story of Sam's relationship with her new girlfriend Rose (Sasha Lane) is ridiculously rushed and therefore devoid of all drama. As is Frank's weird relationship with Leslie (Toni Colette), which is the most absurd narrative in the whole film. Leslie "likes" Frank, but not really, but sort of, but he is an asshole, but she is his landlord, and maybe his partner…and on and on in a hurricane of dubious nonsense. 

Beyond being a diverse utopia, Hearts Beat Loud is also set in a sitcom-ian economic dreamworld as well. We are repeatedly told that Frank is stone cold broke and yet Frank and Sam live in a very sweet loft in Brooklyn's hip Red Hook area. I would be willing to wager that apartment costs at least $3,000 a month, and when you add in the fact that Frank's retro record store is perpetually empty…BECAUSE IT'S A FUCKING RECORD STORE…the only conclusion you can make is that this story is taking place on Fantasy Island and not in the actual Borough of Brooklyn. 

To add to the economic absurdity of the movie, Frank is constantly buying things, like musical equipment, food, and a lot of alcohol at a bar, that he cannot afford…sort of like his daughter's tuition at UCLA. Frank's consequence less spending makes the movie feel more like an episode of Friends than a reality based independent movie. 

As for the performances, well…Nick Offerman is sort of a cult figure due to his role as Ron Swanson in NBC's Parks and Recreation but I never watched the show so I am apparently immune to his droll and quirky charms. Offerman is a pleasant enough screen presence, but he is an extremely limited actor with the range of a drugstore wooden Indian, and so he is unable to adequately carry the film. 

Kiersey Clemons is an extremely charming and likable actress but again, also very limited in her acting range, which makes for an uncomfortable pairing with Offerman. The two of them seem less like father and daughter and more like two strangers chatting at a sweltering bus stop. I noticed that the two of them barely, if ever, actually touched one another.

I do not know if Clemons sings the songs in Hearts Beat Loud, but if she does she has a great voice. The problem with the musical sections though are that they feel as fake as the rest of the movie. It frustrates me no end when a film is attempting to take place in reality and then someone sings and it sounds like they are in a recording studio as opposed to live. Hearts Beat Loud has Clemons lip-synch to the flawless vocals and I felt like I was watching an episode of Saved by the Bell when the gang gets a band together. 

Ted Danson as bartender Dave, a sort of gay Sam Malone, is, like the rest of the film, forgettable, as is Toni Colette in an incoherently written character that does nothing but add to the detritus floating in the vacuous puddle that is this movie. 

The preview for Hearts Beat Loud claimed that "this is the feel good movie we need right now". Hearts Beat Loud as a sort of salve for the brutality of our times speaks volumes about the vapidity of our current culture. This is indeed the movie we need right now if we want to stay anesthetized  and comfortable in our pleasantly delusional bubbles and echo chambers. This film is unintentionally saying a great deal about the unique allure of the soft pillow of opioids here in America, which hold the promise of never having to feel the rough edges of life…or actually feel anything, good or bad…ever again. 

As incoherent as the script and as flaccid as the direction, the worst thing about Hearts Beat Loud is the title. It should have been titled "Ain't Just A River in Egypt", because this movie, and anyone who likes it, is living in a suffocating and stultifying state of denial. 

Hearts Beat Loud is symbolic of the emaciated state of our culture and the superficiality of we the people. If you are that desperate to shut off your already comatose mind, then wait for Hearts Beat Loud to air on cable or Netflix. Under no circumstances should you actually pay money to go see an amateur-hour shlock-fest like Hearts Beat Loud in the theatre, because it has no heart, it is not beating and it sure as hell isn't loud. 

©2018