Today’s date is December 16, 2022.
This is important for two reasons. 1. We made it to another Friday. Good job, everyone. And 2. The reviews for Babylon are no longer embargoed.
I was able to see this movie a bit early thanks to the fact that I’m insane, constantly stalking the For Your Consideration app specifically for workers in guilds. No, I’m not a member of any guilds, BUT I do know someone in one, so I finagled my way into seeing the new Damien Chazelle Hollywood epic a few weeks early.
Now, these embargoes are probably more for real websites like the NYT or The Ringer or IndieWire or [name a website], but because I’m a good guy, I saved my newsletter for the 16th as well.
Now, let’s talk about Babylon and Damien Chazelle.
The movie is a mess. It’s a raunchy, cliché-filled, over-the-top saga starring Margot Robbie, Brad Pitt and Diego Calva all going for it as if they got paid only by the number of bold acting choices they could attempt It has a bonkers ending with a twist you would never believe and almost feels like a fuck you to the Academy. People are going to despise it and call it “up its own ass” and “a disaster.”
I loved it.
After First Man’s exacting stillness and La La Land’s almost cloying sincerity—I still love La La Land by the way, don’t get me wrong—Babylon is a reverse face of monumental proportions. The talent is there as it always is with Chazelle but there’s also a feeling throughout that he’s just going to throw shit at the wall (literally) and see what happens.
A clear homage to Boogie Nights and grander Steven Spielberg elements, there’s nothing “new” about Babylon’s story, but the bravura filmmaking, musical choices and in-your-face flashiness are so wild that I can’t imagine not (at least) respecting it.
The entire movie feels like this song, a thrumming bass hitting you over the head until you finally relent and give in. Is it healthy to listen to this score as much as I have lately? Probably not, but it’s healthier than cocaine. And I don’t have the money (or desire) to try that out.
I wish I loved anything as much as Damien Chazelle loves jazz. A constant through most of his filmmaking, Chazelle makes inspired musical choices time and time again, starting with the unbelievable Whiplash, which I rewatched to prepare for this newsletter.
Whiplash is a sports movie in all respects except for the actual sport. It even goes out of its way to contrast drumming to football. An up-and-comer butting heads with a “coach” and trying to outwork his competition is as generic a plot as we get, but Chazelle knows that. It’s all about the building out of the world, the specific details and the ridiculous camerawork and cutting that makes it all a near-perfect movie.
Never the one to shoot an easy sequence, Whiplash’s momentum comes from its back-and-forth cross-cutting and hatred of a wide shot. The camera is constantly moving, keeping the audience invested in something they (most likely) know little about. To put it plainly, it just fucking rules.
You can see this on display in La La Land as well, a gorgeous movie that is as inventive as it is anything else. It’s all there right in front of you.
Chazelle seems to love generic story archetypes and then surrounding them with an overload of cinematic trickery, musical cues and excessive flash. I could see why it might be vexing to some, but after watching so many movies that feel like dressed-up theatrical productions, it’s reassuring to watch someone really see what they can do with the medium. It’s funny that Babylon comes out around the same time as Avatar: The Way of Water, because both seem to be pushing the art-form in drastically different ways to whatever’s next.
I don’t know what Chazelle does after Babylon or how he’ll follow it up, but I do know that I’m glad to have a movie this peculiar to end the year. It’s a thought-provoking love letter to the movies, and it feels right in a year that was surprisingly full of intriguing and bewitching films.
It’s a good time. I recommend it. Just be prepared for anything.