Red

Red Eye

Turning Red

Marching toward the end of what felt like the longest month ever, I felt like I needed a break. This month was full of harrowing moments, on the screen and off, and especially after the mess of last week’s Oscars… I was done with critically-acclaimed, touching cinema. From The Slap seen (but not heard) around the world, to the loss of several films beloved by audiences and critics alike, to the half-ass jokes from the hosts (Regina Hall feeling up Josh Brolin and Jason Mamoa excluded) to Timothée’s bold, shirtless fashion choice, I, like most people, am experiencing Oscars burnout [and really, genuinely confused why Andrew Garfield didn’t win Best Actor, but I digress]. That’s why I decided to go back to the early days of this blog, when the common theme among each set of Double Features could be as random, specific, and stupid as Hot Guys, Bad Movies, or horror films that take place at rental properties, or Amy Adams (Goes to NYC and Steals Your Man), or indie films that seem potentially disappointing. This week, I watched films that have the word “red” in the title. Because I’m tired, too focused on seeing Tyler, the Creator this week, and because I felt like watching two films from my two comfort genres: thrillers and animation. I really could do a few weeks with the theme of “movies I’ve seen bits and pieces of”, because my adolescence was full of channel-scrolling and random movie viewership. Wes Craven’s 2005 thriller Red Eye was one of these movies, one that I’d seen a slice of more than one time. Given my love for Cillian Murphy, Rachel McAdams, and Wes Craven, it was about time I actually watched this movie—one that I was pretty sure I knew the entire premise of, but refused to let that ruin my viewing experience. Because he’s a master of both satire and horror, Wes Craven very cleverly sold this movie as a deceptive rom-com, where the trailer really begins as any romantic film does. A young, hardworking woman is in Texas for her grandmother’s funeral, but because she’s so hardworking, she must catch a red eye flight back to Miami where she works (and seemingly manages?) a ritzy hotel. When she meets Jackson (Cillian Murphy), who, what do you know, just happens to be on her same flight that night, her hectic life takes a dreadful and unexpected turn. Even though I’m fairly certain many people know the plot and the reveal that happens about ten or fifteen minutes into the movie, I’ll keep this as spoiler-free as possible because if you haven’t seen it, you should. I’m not saying it’s Wes Craven’s best work, but with a nerve-wracking premise and two lead performances that really sell the suspense, I really can’t complain. I’m so acutely aware of Rachel McAdams’ comedic acting prowess, from Mean Girls to Wedding Crashers to Game Night, but apart from The Notebook (which is on my list of movies that put me in a bad mood) I wasn’t all that familiar with her dramatic acting chops. Obviously she can cry and beam and deliver some of the most iconic lines in early 2000s cinema, but Red Eye allowed me to understand the depths of her acting skills as a whole. Her anguish and her happiness felt incredibly genuine, and watching her run through an airport with heels on was thrilling, to say the least. While the tone of this film is very dark, the details are surprisingly mild, and yet Rachel McAdams delivers such a bewitching, captivating performance that places you right into that seat on the plane. Cillian Murphy was reliably creepy and hot, and is so brilliantly utilized in this film that could so easily have been too weak or too over-the-top. I loved their chemistry and mutually-believable screen presences, the healthy dose of early-2000s movie product placement, and I let out a gasp of surprise when I saw a young-ish Brian Cox, and witnessed Rachel McAdams defend herself with a field hockey stick in the final scenes (a clear nod to post-injury Regina George). Wes sure knew how to direct a chase scene through a house—the airplane and airport scenes were good, but to see Rachel McAdams run up the house stairs twice and still make it out safely, solidified Wes Craven’s ability to create and develop compelling Final Girls. Again, it’s not the freakiest, most memorable thriller, but Red Eye is so strong because of its captivating cast, and its lesson (that is present in many a Wes Craven film): be wary of the nice guys. I know watching thrillers is not everyone’s favorite form of self care, even grossly underrated ones, so let’s move on to the next film: Domee Shi’s Turning Red. This film only came out earlier this month, and yet it’s received enough praise and criticism to fill a year. Turning Red, the second Pixar film to be directed by a woman (oof), follows 13-year old Mei: a joyful, determined, imaginative teenager who’s going through some big changes. There’s school pressures and pestilences of course, but then there’s the pull of your peers that begins around that age, where you’re placed in between your friends, and your family. Mei is incredibly close with her mother (Sandra mf Oh!) and has spent her whole life trying to impress and appease her. Mei and her family are Chinese-Canadians, who together run their family temple, a fun and informative tourist attraction. As if this newfound imbalance of friendship and family weren’t enough, Mei wakes up one morning to discover she’s turned into a giant red panda! Which would be cute enough on its own! But it somehow only gets cuter from there. In fact, this movie is instantly f*cking cute. Mei and her three best friends all have the cutest respective and collective aesthetics and personalities, each one of them is kind and funny and sweet, and desperate to be treated like the young adults that they are becoming. No one struggles with this more than Mei, who, for 13 years, was the ideal daughter. Now that she’s going through puberty, and that whole red panda werewolf thing, she’s forced to confront all sorts of hormones and feelings she’s never had before. That red panda thing, if it weren’t obvious already, is a period metaphor—one that, in my view, is a perfectly innocent but apt way to approach this topic. When little boys go through puberty, it’s constantly joked about how much they smell and masturbate and are overall starting to become aware of their sexuality, and yet it’s all done in good fun. When little girls go through puberty, it is a much different experience. Middle school sex-ed is evidence enough of this, as I can recall the boys returning from their education rather unscathed, while the girls came back shellshocked. Girls go through the same confusing, potentially humiliating puberty that boys do, but periods are quite a different beast. The overwhelming shame that girls are meant to feel for stepping into their maturing bodies and sexuality, combined with adjusting to a regular source of pain and discomfort monthly—you’d be crazy not to go a little crazy. That’s why Mei’s panda feels like the perfect euphemism for not just her period, but her burgeoning sexuality, too. And instead of using these major life changes to cause fear or panic, Turning Red found a beautiful, hilarious, and quite frankly, accurate way of representing female coming of age. Womanhood can be so daunting, especially when you’re younger and just beginning to explore it, and I really wish I’d had a film that confronted this topic so honestly when I was a kid. Periods and sex become a conversation pretty early on in childhood development, whether we care to admit that or not, and Turning Red didn’t do what the normal child’s cartoon would do and dance around these subjects—they face them head on. When Mei starts to find a boy in her life attractive, as opposed to the boys from favorite boy band 4Town (who sing very fun music by Billie Eilish and Finneas—hello!), she does not know what to do with herself. She huffs around her bedroom, she paces, she sits in one spot on the floor, she rolls around in a ball, until she finds her way under her bed, where she is safe to draw (innocent but detailed) pictures of her and this boy. To see a cartoon character, meant for children, go through the processes of realizing she has a crush, realizing she doesn’t know what to do with these feelings, then turn those feelings into (PG) erotica, was not appalling to me, it was real. Teenage boys are forever and always depicted as horny, but I’ve got some uncomfortable news for everyone: little girls get horny too. Turning Red expertly details the shame and anxiety surrounding ones first mature feelings, and the consequences that can come from ignoring them. It’s a side to childhood and humanity I’ve only ever seen represented on Bobs Burgers, Big Mouth, or Pen15, shows not necessarily meant for children, and it was so refreshing to see this honest but bold perspective here. But because we live in the world we do, many people, mostly white men and white women, have found uniquely racist and sexist ways to criticize Turning Red. A few white, male critics took issue with this film’s lack of relatability to white males. And men and women critics alike have expressed discomfort and even disgust in regards to the film’s acceptance of young, female sexuality. I thought about linking directly to those critics but I really don’t wanna give them the clicks or the reads so you can just take my word for it: these people are prudes who would rather go through their lives with their heads in the sand, ignoring female agency and autonomy and the reality that some little girls are cringey, weird, boy-obsessed, and messy. Turning Red does the unthinkable and encourages its viewers, young and old, to embrace the messiness. The animation was beautiful, with some of the brightest, most vivid colors and expressions of emotion I’ve ever seen. I was so enamored with Luca a couple of weeks ago, I really didn’t think an animated film could top it. But oh my god. Turning Red is not only my favorite animated film of the year, it might be my favorite film of the year so far. Period!