I wish you gave more examples of what you consider complex adult storytelling in direct relation to EEAAO. It's hard to read this as a critique of the film, or even of its supportive critics vs. a wishlist of what you want to see more in contemporary movies.
And there is something very dismissive in shaming adult viewers for watching Steven Universe, or calling movies "kid food", assuming that they watch it for easy answers to life questions, instead of finding that these works convey feelings and thoughts they must have had in life, but have never seen being portrayed onscreen. Walter Chaw's essay on EEAAO comes to mind, of how it enlightened him of how his parents might have felt moving to another country, and the tumult of their marriage and family life as a result. It's therapeutic not in the sense of providing answers or a simplistic five-step program, but feeling listened to and seen, in a predominantly White Hollywood space that has shown the dynamics of predominantly White families.
It's fine to not be affected, or to not believe in it. I personally think that for such a secular film, EEAAO is the preachiest work I've seen in a long, long time. But it is a strange choice to belittle people for the stories they watch, often more complex than you make it, without knowing who they are or what they're getting out of it.
I read the Chaw essay, and it's beautiful. Thanks for pointing me towards it. I've sent it to other people as an example of criticism that differs from mine which I think is really good. For what it's worth, I agree with him on certain things he likes about the movie--I think the broomstick on the ceiling is an intimate and realistic detail, I think the Daniels' practical effects are fantastic, and I think they initially draw their family dynamics really well. I didn't write about the things I liked about EEAAO because the movie's received so much praise already and I wanted to focus on my critique. But the things I liked about EEAAO are why I also felt it was a letdown: it had the potential to be a wonderful family drama that the Daniels squandered to pursue a preachy and (what I think was) an emotionally unrealistic catharsis.
What I aim to suggest in my review is that the Daniels’ framing of human misery as medical trauma suggests there’s a medical solution, which they deliver via exultant “catharsis.” But the narrative elisions they make to get there reveal its hollowness. That’s why I compare it to junk food—it feels good for a moment, but it’s ultimately unsatisfying. I also think the tweeness masks an aggression, in which the Daniels ventriloquize their maternal figures to deliver the apologies they want rather than more humbly consider their position. The "catharsis" via apology they offer isn't satiation: I'm very firmly of the belief that adult inner peace can only come from learning to accept your parents might not understand every part of you. You can ask for what you want from them, but that doesn't mean you'll get it. How you then navigate your adult relationship with or estrangement from them is up to you. It can be excruciatingly painful if they reject you, but it can also bestow a kind of freedom. In the process of asking, you become your own person and claim an autonomy no one else can dispense of. But the idea that Joy could do this, that this might even be her responsibility as an adult daughter rather than a child, never really enters the film.
I think people can express any feeling they want about art, but that the feeling should be their own. I don't think people should be embarrassed about liking the movie, or as in Chaw's case, for so beautifully considering his own experience in light of it. That's why I also said "gush" about Steven Universe as opposed to enjoy it. I think there's a difference between feeling and action: if someone likes the movie, they should explain why in their own words, whether that's in an essay like Chaw's or something as short as a tweet. But the idea that it can "bridge intergenerational trauma" is the Daniels' framing and it's a ridiculous one. I think adult critics and fans should be embarrassed to regurgitate their marketing copy so uncritically.
You missed the most important messages of this piece, that "we need to stop letting people evangelize bad art as good".
We should shame evangelizers of bad art. Bad art is affirmation fantasy. The author *clearly* made the case for this, and more.
You are nitpicking an example and trying to pass it as a thoughtful response. It's not a thoughtful response, you're just bashing your head against a wall.
Loved this piece, didn't agree with all of it but definitely see your points and it got me thinking. I'm wondering what you'd suggest as pieces of cinema that are challenging, adult, and complex — the sorts of works that don't fit into this homogenized mold we're seeing. I have a few ideas myself, but I'm curious and would love to add some titles to my watchlist.
When I think about adult cinema, it don't think it necessarily need to be discomforting. I just think it can't pretend to "reconcile all contradictions" like the Daniels aim to do, because I think the human condition constitutes tensions that're inherently irreconcilable. I think the best films of any genre sit within those tensions--they explore them and approach them with humility rather than attempting to tame and suppress them, like I think the Daniels attempt (and fail) to do.
I think When Harry Met Sally is a great example of a film that's simultaneously feel-good while still being adult. It's a funny and charming love story that doesn't elide "the real tensions between heterosexual desires and expectations and feminism—broad examples include sex, monogamy, marriage, childcare—that can't be easily made irrelevant through rules and deal-breakers" (to quote another Oyler review.) In terms of eros, sex, and desire, I think the best films are ones which give the subconscious space to roam, rather than ones which unrealistically bend their characters towards a neat and tidy ending. That's also why I think Ephron movies work--she doesn't try to prescribe her characters' futures after her films end. She gives no indication the marriages or relationships work out in the long run--we just see what we see during the runtime.
Lately, I particularly enjoyed the films "Black Narcissus," "Brief Encounter," "Fatal Attraction," "Reds," and in terms of grimmer films, "The Piano Teacher," "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia," and "You Were Never Really Here." When it comes to movies that deal with taboo sex rather than romance, I particularly liked Andrea Arnold's "Fish Tank" and Marielle Heller's "Diary of a Teenage Girl." I also think I liked "The Night Porter," although I'm still working out how I feel about that one lol.
Thanks again for reading, and feel free to comment with any movies you liked or any thoughts you have too. It may take me a while to respond (busy at my job) but I always appreciate thoughtful critical engagement, even if it's with people who don't agree with me.
I wish you gave more examples of what you consider complex adult storytelling in direct relation to EEAAO. It's hard to read this as a critique of the film, or even of its supportive critics vs. a wishlist of what you want to see more in contemporary movies.
And there is something very dismissive in shaming adult viewers for watching Steven Universe, or calling movies "kid food", assuming that they watch it for easy answers to life questions, instead of finding that these works convey feelings and thoughts they must have had in life, but have never seen being portrayed onscreen. Walter Chaw's essay on EEAAO comes to mind, of how it enlightened him of how his parents might have felt moving to another country, and the tumult of their marriage and family life as a result. It's therapeutic not in the sense of providing answers or a simplistic five-step program, but feeling listened to and seen, in a predominantly White Hollywood space that has shown the dynamics of predominantly White families.
It's fine to not be affected, or to not believe in it. I personally think that for such a secular film, EEAAO is the preachiest work I've seen in a long, long time. But it is a strange choice to belittle people for the stories they watch, often more complex than you make it, without knowing who they are or what they're getting out of it.
I read the Chaw essay, and it's beautiful. Thanks for pointing me towards it. I've sent it to other people as an example of criticism that differs from mine which I think is really good. For what it's worth, I agree with him on certain things he likes about the movie--I think the broomstick on the ceiling is an intimate and realistic detail, I think the Daniels' practical effects are fantastic, and I think they initially draw their family dynamics really well. I didn't write about the things I liked about EEAAO because the movie's received so much praise already and I wanted to focus on my critique. But the things I liked about EEAAO are why I also felt it was a letdown: it had the potential to be a wonderful family drama that the Daniels squandered to pursue a preachy and (what I think was) an emotionally unrealistic catharsis.
What I aim to suggest in my review is that the Daniels’ framing of human misery as medical trauma suggests there’s a medical solution, which they deliver via exultant “catharsis.” But the narrative elisions they make to get there reveal its hollowness. That’s why I compare it to junk food—it feels good for a moment, but it’s ultimately unsatisfying. I also think the tweeness masks an aggression, in which the Daniels ventriloquize their maternal figures to deliver the apologies they want rather than more humbly consider their position. The "catharsis" via apology they offer isn't satiation: I'm very firmly of the belief that adult inner peace can only come from learning to accept your parents might not understand every part of you. You can ask for what you want from them, but that doesn't mean you'll get it. How you then navigate your adult relationship with or estrangement from them is up to you. It can be excruciatingly painful if they reject you, but it can also bestow a kind of freedom. In the process of asking, you become your own person and claim an autonomy no one else can dispense of. But the idea that Joy could do this, that this might even be her responsibility as an adult daughter rather than a child, never really enters the film.
I think people can express any feeling they want about art, but that the feeling should be their own. I don't think people should be embarrassed about liking the movie, or as in Chaw's case, for so beautifully considering his own experience in light of it. That's why I also said "gush" about Steven Universe as opposed to enjoy it. I think there's a difference between feeling and action: if someone likes the movie, they should explain why in their own words, whether that's in an essay like Chaw's or something as short as a tweet. But the idea that it can "bridge intergenerational trauma" is the Daniels' framing and it's a ridiculous one. I think adult critics and fans should be embarrassed to regurgitate their marketing copy so uncritically.
You missed the most important messages of this piece, that "we need to stop letting people evangelize bad art as good".
We should shame evangelizers of bad art. Bad art is affirmation fantasy. The author *clearly* made the case for this, and more.
You are nitpicking an example and trying to pass it as a thoughtful response. It's not a thoughtful response, you're just bashing your head against a wall.
Fantastic piece Kieran! Instant subscribe!
Thanks Geoff!
Loved this piece, didn't agree with all of it but definitely see your points and it got me thinking. I'm wondering what you'd suggest as pieces of cinema that are challenging, adult, and complex — the sorts of works that don't fit into this homogenized mold we're seeing. I have a few ideas myself, but I'm curious and would love to add some titles to my watchlist.
Thank you!
When I think about adult cinema, it don't think it necessarily need to be discomforting. I just think it can't pretend to "reconcile all contradictions" like the Daniels aim to do, because I think the human condition constitutes tensions that're inherently irreconcilable. I think the best films of any genre sit within those tensions--they explore them and approach them with humility rather than attempting to tame and suppress them, like I think the Daniels attempt (and fail) to do.
I think When Harry Met Sally is a great example of a film that's simultaneously feel-good while still being adult. It's a funny and charming love story that doesn't elide "the real tensions between heterosexual desires and expectations and feminism—broad examples include sex, monogamy, marriage, childcare—that can't be easily made irrelevant through rules and deal-breakers" (to quote another Oyler review.) In terms of eros, sex, and desire, I think the best films are ones which give the subconscious space to roam, rather than ones which unrealistically bend their characters towards a neat and tidy ending. That's also why I think Ephron movies work--she doesn't try to prescribe her characters' futures after her films end. She gives no indication the marriages or relationships work out in the long run--we just see what we see during the runtime.
Lately, I particularly enjoyed the films "Black Narcissus," "Brief Encounter," "Fatal Attraction," "Reds," and in terms of grimmer films, "The Piano Teacher," "Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia," and "You Were Never Really Here." When it comes to movies that deal with taboo sex rather than romance, I particularly liked Andrea Arnold's "Fish Tank" and Marielle Heller's "Diary of a Teenage Girl." I also think I liked "The Night Porter," although I'm still working out how I feel about that one lol.
Thanks again for reading, and feel free to comment with any movies you liked or any thoughts you have too. It may take me a while to respond (busy at my job) but I always appreciate thoughtful critical engagement, even if it's with people who don't agree with me.
Loved this