Bring your tissues to 'Waves,' which redefines vulnerability

No Content for Old Men

with Matt Craig

In this week's newsletter: A review of the Waves, one of the most authentic movies I've ever seen. Then a few words on Netflix's The King, a reminder that you need to be watching Watchmen on HBO, and a few streaming suggestions for your weekend. Lastly in this week's "Trailer Watch," AppleTV+ is about to drop a feature length movie. Heavy sigh.

Word Count: 735 words
Approximate Reading Time: 4 minutes

Waves

So Much More Than a Tear Jerker

What is the true meaning of vulnerability? It's a question I debated with a group of friends while driving back from Joshua Tree last weekend (a trip which, I now feel the need to clarify, did not involve hallucinogenics...hi mom). We all acknowledged vulnerability meant something more than simply "sharing deep emotional things."

The key distinction? Resolution. Talking about a tragedy, obstacle or an affliction is much easier once the problem has been solved, when we can cast ourselves on the back side of a heroic arc. To be vulnerable is to share that which is still unresolved, an admission that we don't know how or when or even if we'll come out on the other side.

Vulnerability is at the heart of Waves. I came in to the movie somewhat jaded by warnings of "you're going to cry!" I anticipated a soapy tear-jerker, primed by the presence of Sterling K. Brown to expect something like his hit NBC show "This is Us." That show might make you cry, sure, but in the end everyone will hug it out and everything will be tied up in a nice bow.

Instead I got a visceral experience, one that I'm not ashamed to admit left me in tears on three separate occasions during a (thankfully) sparsely populated 11:30 a.m. showing this week. Waves is one of the most authentic movies I've ever seen, tracking love, bliss, angst, pressure, sorrow and every other human emotion accurately from both the teenage and parental points of view. It's real and it's raw, but the tapestry of emotions separates it from the admirable ye hopeless toil of other tragedy movies, like Manchester By the Sea.

Narratively, the movie is bifurcated -- a fancy way of saying it changes viewpoints midway through (a good example is The Place Beyond the Pines). The first half builds a house of cards through one character's eyes, it all crashes down during a single tragic event, then from a different perspective we see a family sent reeling and searching for answers.

Ironically, vulnerability is both the meta-textual and the actual textual theme of the movie. Father, Mother, Daughter, Son all struggle to reveal their true feelings to one another. They love each other, but they do so imperfectly, and the emotional distance causes distortion. Pressure and resentment build as a result.

There will be one character or one moment that will strike a little too close to home for every single viewer. And then something powerful happens. When we witness someone truly being vulnerable, our heart opens and our empathy skyrockets.

All four principle actors -- Sterling K. Brown, Renée Elise Goldsberry (from Hamilton!!), Kelvin Harrison Jr. and Taylor Russell -- give powerful performances, but by the second half of the movie these were no longer characters and this was no longer a movie. I knew these people. I felt their pain. I cared about how they treated each other. I wanted desperately for them to live and thrive and by joyful!

Days later, I now appreciate the filmmaking of Trey Edwards Schults. He has admitted the movie even took him to a vulnerable place while recreating events from his own life: a subplot featuring the perpetually excellent Lucas Hedges (whom you'll recognize from literally every depressing tear-jerker movie of the last five years). The movie is at times impressionistic, and definitely beautiful in a way that could be seen as showy. If you don't bite on the emotional hook, you may even feel slightly manipulated by style over substance. But be aware, you've also exposed yourself as a coldhearted sociopath.

Perhaps the most devastating comparison one could make for this movie is also the most obvious: Moonlight. Both feature gauzy cinematography, Florida landscapes and emotional journeys. Each comes from A24, the independent studio that is quickly creating a new genre around authentic human drama. But Barry Jenkins is a master of the form, and these two movies are different.

In Moonlight, our protagonist reaches out in every direction for connection with anyone as he tries to find himself. In Waves, the support our characters need is right next to them, if only they can muster up the courage to stretch out and grasp it. The latter can be just as heartbreaking and/or heartening as the former.

And it makes for one of the best movies of 2019.

Streaming Suggestions!

Something New

The King (Netflix): In theory this adaptation of Shakespeare's "Henry V" was to be a part of Netflix's awards slate. Aside from maybe a costuming or set design nomination for recreating England in the Middle Ages, the movie fell well short of its ambition. Timothy Chalamet turns in another great performance as the teenage king, but two and a half hours where most of the significant action takes place off screen makes for a slow, meticulous drama about political machinations. Not my cup of tea.

Watchmen (HBO): I feel compelled to highlight this show once again, because week by week it continued to elevate its game. It's the best show on television by a long shot, and is quickly entering consideration for best of the year. I'll remind you that I've neither read the comic book, nor seen the 2009 Zach Snyder movie, but the way the world is slowly revealed here is brilliant and accessible. Possibly the best superhero (adjacent) property I've ever seen.

Something Old

Lion (2016): Surprise, surprise. I'm cheating on the categories again. But the truth is, movies in the 20th century were simply not concerned with authenticity. These kind of human emotion mosaic movies are a relatively new phenomenon. But I bring up Lion because it's the last time I can remember (off the top of my head) crying in a movie theater. And the last time I felt like a movie exposed me to some new and fascinating form of the human experience. It's just a great movie.

Something to Stream

It Comes at Night (Amazon Prime): Trey Edwards Shults last project used pure genre -- horror -- to Trojan horse in another tense family drama. This one is about paranoia, which slowly drives our family crazy during a post-apocalyptic scare. It's not really scary

Moonlight (Netflix): Truly a movie that needs to be experienced, and not just because a bunch of critics dubbed it the best movie of the decade. Director Barry Jenkins is an artist. If you go watch Waves and are looking for something else that can scratch that itch, you will not be disappointed.

Romantic Comedy Library (HBO): Flipping through the various streaming services this week, I noticed that HBO has gathered up a really impressive list of rom-com hall of famers. I finally got around to seeing How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, which was two parts cheesy and one part lame, but I can't deny I enjoyed it (see, that's me being vulnerable). But also Notting Hill; Crazy, Stupid, Love; Love Actually; Reality Bites; and My Big Fat Greek Wedding. Definitely a good palate cleanser after something as heavy as Waves.

Trailer Watch: Cats (Trailer 2)

I'm trying my absolute best not to make fun of Cats too much, because I don't want to dig myself a hole when the movie comes out and I actually like it. That hasn't stopped every other critic and person-with-a-Twitter-account from crapping all over it. This second trailer shows us more of what the finished product CGI rendering will look like, and...well...it's unique. I'll say the same thing I said last time. The project is certainly not lacking in ambition.