Review: Matthias & Maxime

Matthias & Maxime (2020): Written and directed by Xavier Dolan. Starring: Xavier Dolan, Gabriel D'Almeida Freitas, Pier-Luc Funk, Samuel Gauthier, Antoine Pilon, and Anne Dorval. Running Time: 119 minutes.

Rating: 3.5/4

               At its barest level, Matthias & Maxime is a romance story that follows familiar, well-worn beats; two characters insist that their relationship is platonic, but then a plot happenstance leads to a kiss that upends everything they thought they knew about each other, creating the will-they-won't-they dynamic that drives the rest of the story. And while this suffices as a one-sentence summary of the narrative structure of the film, it doesn't come anywhere close to capturing what makes this latest work by Canadian Wunderkind Xavier Dolan rise far beyond its parts into a sweet, effortlessly engaging experience that strikes a powerful balance between being funny, heartbreaking, sad, and joyous.

               Matthias (Gabriel Freitas) and Maxime (Dolan himself) are part of a clique of intensely close friends, all young adult men that have basically spent their whole lives together in this one, small town in Quebec. They grew up together, went to the same schools, graduated, and are all currently in varying early stages of their respective careers, but their weeks still revolve around regular get-togethers where they drink, smoke, eat, shoot the shit, and basically act as if time and the wider world can never touch them. It's an unspoken attitude of defiance that is part and parcel of youth, but that first inevitable wrinkle of getting older has already appeared; as the film starts, Maxime is waiting for a few things to be sorted out before he will leave for Australia for, at least, two years.

               At first this doesn't seem like something anyone is really bothered by, but then another wrinkle is thrown into the mix; the younger sister of one of the gang, a film student, tags along to one of the parties insisting that two of the guys fill in for a movie project of hers. Without thinking much about it, Maxime volunteers and Matthias is cajoled into joining him before either of them are told what they will have to do; make out on camera.

               The tension this creates has more to do with the insistance of both men that they're "just friends" than it does with either man's sexual identity. All of the guys in the group seem to be either gay or at least bisexual. Matthias himself currently has a girlfriend, but she exhibits no shock or surprise later on when she hears about the kiss, so this is not a coming-out movie about Matthias suddenly discovering he's gay. Nonetheless, he is clearly unsettled afterwards, as conveyed by a very on-the-nose swimming sequence he has the following morning. Things only get worse as the days until Maxime's flight tick down and his final departure approaches. Parties, dinners, final get-togethers, and gift-givings are planned, but Matthias becomes increasingly surly and withdrawn, until the point comes where he's barely able to look at Maxime or even be in the same room with him. Clearly, something has to give.

               Part of what keeps the experience of watching the film constantly engaging is the mixing up of editing styles, types of cameras, and framing to reflect the mood or feeling of a particular scene. All the sequences involving parties have a frenetic energy to them, as the editing speeds up to make hours go by in seconds. Moments like these effectively capture the sensation of these moments when you are young and having a wild time with good friends; specific details of what was done and said tend to blur together afterwards and become irrelevant. What matters is the sensation, or memory, of having been there.

               That said, the quieter or more introspective moments are not forgotten. The film finds all sorts of ways to mix sights, sounds, and music to great effect, not least of all in the aforementioned early-morning swim. One inspired shot early on of the two characters side-by-side comes from outside the house they are in; the only lit part of the image is their profiles within a tall, narrow window frame, and the rest of the screen is black.

               The cast is game too, with each member of the gang finding ways to stand out and be memorable in roles that could otherwise easily end up fading into the background. The relationships between each of them feel so real and intimate that I would almost swear Dolan wasn't even making a film, just sticking up cameras to make videos of him and his buddies that he later decided to make a movie with.

               If there is one major weak spot, it's that the female roles end up ill-defined or forgotten in most cases. This is something that many have noted in other Dolan films, and here too, the almost casual dismissal of where Matthias' girlfriend stands to be affected by the potential of her boyfriend leaving her for a man is a frustrating limitation to the film's otherwise remarkable emotional depth. The mothers of the group are all framed as being almost frighteningly twee, Maxime's mother is given no redeeming qualities whatsoever, and the film reacts to the aggressive "cool" and rapid-fire slang of the filmmaking younger sister with something approaching horror. The lone exception is Matthias' mother, who seems to have a relatively deep connection to Maxime, appears especially emotional over his departing, and may even suspect more than the others what is going on between Maxime and her son.

               Where the film is at its strongest is how well it establishes characters, history, arcs, and motivations with an absolute minimum of exposition. We learn very little concrete details about the character's pasts, but a great amount can be gleaned in bits and pieces of the dialogue, which throws out references, old jokes, and calls back past stories in an entirely natural way. No one monologues with their own family about everything that led to a given moment; rather, we constantly reveal little pieces of ourseves in casual conversations, an endless litany of "Remember Whens," ""That Time She," and "He Used Tos." Few films are able to capture and optimize on this dynamiy as effectively as Matthias & Maxime. The scenes where the film hits its greatest highs often hinge very explicitly on what is not said, rather than any line from the script.

               This is a movie that reflects on the passage of time and will get viewers thinking about their own nostalgia, the ways their lives have changed from what they once hoped and thought was possible. It suggests that time can indeed be wasted or pass us by, but also holds the potential to be salvaged at the right moment and with the right choice. What that right choice is, like with our two lead characters, is up to each of us.

-Noah Franc

Star Wars, Duel of the Fates: Chapter Five- The Revelation

**For previous chapters, refer to the Table of Contents**

               Poe contemplated his hand a moment longer before nodding back at Finn.

               "Ok, you're up, buddy."

               Finn considered his own hand, then moved two more tokens from his pile towards the pot at the side of the table. Upping the bet yet again.

               "Alright, alright, playing dangerous" Poe muttered challengingly, speaking with the tone he would use if they were playing at a real sabacc table at a proper Corellian gambling joint, with actual money and genuine stakes at play.

               If only, Poe thought to himself in exapseration for probably the hundredth time, Stars, if only.

               Try as he might, Poe just could not get himself to adjust to the overwhelming lack of action that now pervaded their daily lives. He was a man constitutionally incapable of sitting still for too long before getting real antsy. With so little capacity left to communicate and move between worlds, the rebels had to limit flights and missions as much as possible to avoid detection. Even around Talrezan Four itself, Leia had decided to limit recon flights to the bare minimum, just in case First Order ships appeared in the system at the wrong time.

               The end result was a far more sedentary routine than Poe had ever known before. Even in the darkest days of the earlier rebellion, there was always some mission that needed doing, and he was always the first to jump at the chance to do them. Now, real activity was few and far between. Kuat had been the rare exception, and even though the mission ultimately went sideways by the end, Poe had relished the chance to be doing something again, to at leasy try and get the Rebellion back on solid ground. Since then, though, it had been back to days upon days at base camp, with no idea what would come next.

               Not that he didn't understand why Leia was being so careful. He'd learned the hard way the price of rashness, and with the Rebellion as strung out as it was now, any mistake on their part really could mean their end. Poe would rather die than let that happen.

               Didn't mean he had to like being grounded like this, though, and boy, did he not like it. He and Finn had, by now, resorted to coming up with about 50 of their own varieties of sabacc to try and kill time, inventing ever-more elaborite systems of betting money and riches they most definitely did not possess to give themselves a reason to play.

               If he didn't have Finn, or Rose, or Rey around to connect with like this, Poe thought, he would have gone completely insane by this point.

               After considering whether or not he wanted to risk pulling another card, Poe decided against it.

               "Alright, show hands," he said, laying down his cards; he had 21, nearly a perfect sabacc hand.

               Finn smiled and laid his down in response; 22.

               "Damn," Poe smiled, as Finn swept the "pot" towards his side, "got me again. How'd you get so good at this anyway? Until I taught you you'd never played this before."

               "Dunno," Finn replied sheepishly, clearly letting himself bask a bit. "Sixth sense, I guess."

               "At the sabacc table again, eh?" A warm, chuckling voice came up behind Poe. He turned around to see Lando Calrissian, beaming with that usual nuclear-powered smile of his.

               "Hey General. Yes sir. Gotta kill time somehow."

               "Care if I join you?"

               Poe laughed a bit, "With all due respect, General, we know your reputation. I don't think Finn and I would stand much of a chance."

               Lando beamed again and winked, "Yeah, you're probably right. Anyway, once you fellas are done, Leia would like a word. Any of you seen Rey today?"

               Poe shook his head no. "Not yet. Finn?"

               He shook his head too. "Me neither. Should I go look for her?"

               "Let's both look," Poe responded, gathering his deck back up, "I need to stretch my legs before they turn to stone."

               Rey was, at that moment, sitting cross-legged in her training glade, flipping through another of the crinkled Jedi books she'd brought with her from Ahch-To.

               Somewhere along the line this had become part of her morning routine; taking one of the tombs and flipping through at random, stopping every so often to read a brief passage here or there, to see if something caught her attention that could further her training and knowledge of the Force. Some days, she'd had moments of real inspiration, finding a new exercise to expand her skills, or a description of the powers of the Force that let her feel a sense of accomplishment, like she was actually making good on her promise to Luke to carry on with the Jedi order. Her discovery of the passages about lightsaber construction had been a particular high point.

               Those days, sadly, were few and far between, and she'd not had a single one of them since Kuat. It had been over a month now, Luke had not reappeared since their last (rather testy) conversation, and Rey once again felt like she was floundering in a sea of unknown depth and size, with no indication in which direction she should start swimming.

               It didn't help that the pages she was landing on today were proving especially, almost annoyingly unhelpful.

               In considereth of the boundless natures of the Force, the Jedi shall knoweth all the most sacred sacraments of the said nature of living organisms-

               Ugh. Nothing made clear the sheer age of these things like their very wordy, very old-fashioned style. Next. Flip.

               The edible plants to be utilized most in the gardens of the Jedi temple that shall yieldeth the caloric variety necessary-

               Old Jedi diet rules. Riveting. Flip.

               The younglings, upon rising with the first sunlight, are to be brought before breaking fast to-

               Youngling training guidelines. Also extremely not helpful. Flip.

               In this lower chamber resideth the Jedi Force beacon, with which the whole of the galaxy may be called-

               Maybe she should give Luke's first journal another go-

               Hang on, Rey thought suddenly, her hand frozen in the process of turning the page yet again, was that....

               Looking at the page she'd been about to lose track of with new intensity, she scanned it from the top before finding the passage she'd just read:

               In this lower chamber of the sacred Temple resideth the Jedi Force Beacon, with which the whole of the galaxy may be called for the defending of Coruscant and the Temple from the most graveth of threats. Through the Force, the whole galaxy and all life is forever boundeth. Thus, the first Jedi Council determined a method by which, within the Force, a summons may be transmitted instantly to every known corner of civilization. Utilizing the structure of the Temple itself, built to focus the Force within....

               What followed after, Rey confirmed with a quick scan, was a technical guide to this device, its construction, and instructions for its use; a remarkably old piece of technology that seemed to be specially designed to be a conduit for the Force to send a message on a unique quantum wavelength that would almost instantly reach the farthest parts of the galaxy.

               By all the stars, Rey thought, a slow, warm, feeling of euphoria beginning to wind its way through her body, this is it. A unique beacon in the depths of the Jedi Temple, capable, it seemed, of sending out a signal that First Order tech would not be able to jam quickly, if at all, a call to all potential friends and allies throughout the galaxy that everyone, this time, would definitely hear.

               If there was some way- any way- to pull off finding and using such a device, they could gather enough strength to retake Coruscant, maybe all of the Core Systems. That, surely, would send the First Order reeling, and the Rebellion could once again take the offensive.

               The only question was, how to even begin planning something this complex-

               "Rey? Hey, Rey!"

               Shaken from her thoughts quite suddenly, Rey turned to see Poe approaching her from the pathway, Finn close behind.

               "Thought you might be here. Lando told us that..."

               His voice trailed off as he noted the expression on her face, one that, Rey assumed, was of pretty obvious shock.

               "Rey, are you okay?"

               Slowly, Rey nodded, a grin starting to make its way up her face.

               "Yes. I think...I might finally have an idea."

               "The whole galaxy? Really? You're absolutely sure?" This sounded so good, too good, that Finn was almost afraid to believe his own ears.

               "That's what it says. I know this is our key. I can feel it." Rey looked over at Lando and Rose, sitting side-by-side and examining the page with the schematics of the beacon with looks of intense concentration. She turned towards Leia, who was yet to say a word. "Gen- Leia. What do you think?"

               Leia sat in chair with an almost nostalgic look on her face, one hand slowly rubbing her lower lip.

               After another moment, she spoke:

               "I remember....Luke told me about this, once, after he'd explored the Jedi Temple for the first time. He'd heard of it too and wanted to see it for himself. I don't know if he ever found it though. Lando, do you think it could really work?"

               Lando looked up finally from the book, while Rose continued to scan it. "It looks legit. Real old tech, sure, but if no one's messed with it it should still work."

               "Hm," Leia's mouth tightened, "how many crewable combat ships do we have right now?"

               "Enough to start a scrap. But we sure as hell don't have enough to finish one. Not without help."

               "Well, that's where hope will have to come in, I suppose."

               "General," Poe spoke up, "look, to be frank, we don't have much left to lose. Sabatoge missions aren't getting us anywhere, and as long as we don't have a way around First Order jamming, there's nothing big we can do anyway. If there's even the slightest chance this can work, we gotta take it."

               "But..." Finn, over his shock, could finally speak again, "what about Kylo Ren? He might not know about the beacon, but if he'll probably be on Coruscant anyway. Or at least his Knights will be."

               Rey nodded, "I know. But," here she glanced back at Leia with a worried look in her eyes, "I...assumed that from the start. One way or another, I'm going to have face him. There's no other way this can end."

               She turned fully to Leia now her voice dropping down almost to a whisper, "I'm sorry."

               Leia was silent for a moment more. Everyone present could feel the weight of the moment through her stillness. Then, she smiled, gentle and loving.

               "Don't be, Rey. I agree. This is the path we're on and we have to see it to the end. One way or another, this is it. We either succeed, or this will be the Rebellion's final stand." She looked at Rey with an expression that contained worlds. "I can feel it."

               Rey nodded slowly, "So can I."

               Finn felt a familiar trickle of worry run down his throat. That hidden, tickling sensation he'd spoken about with Rose before was still running around the back of his mind, and he still had no idea why or what he should do about it. He was with everyone here, to the death, but he would give anything to feel at least a modicum of assuredness that all these people he loved so dearly would make through okay.

               "Alright then," Leia was speaking again, and Finn snapped back to the present. "How do we go about this? We need a small team to infiltrate the planet the first and activate the beacon, then have a plan to coordinate and organize anyone who responds. Rey, you are going to have lead the ground team, there's no question about that. Who else should join you?"

               Rey smiled, "My friends. Finn, Rose, and Poe. I wouldn't trust my life to anyone else." The confidence in her voice allowed the concern in Finn's heart to loosen, just a bit. Damn right, he thought.

               Poe clapped his hands, clearly pumped at the idea, "Alright! So! How soon can we head out?"

               "Hold on, flyboy," Leia said, rather winkingly, "Rey's idea is fine, but my only overriding order is that you stay with the fleet. You're still my best pilot. We're bound to be outnumbered, at least at first, and our best hope lies in having every Poe and Lando and Chewie who can fly out until help arrives."

               Poe looked as if, instead of being given an order, Leia hat just smacked him across the face. Rey stood silently for a moment, then spoke up again.

               "Well, what if he flies us down into Coruscant airspace? We'll need to have someone smuggle us down anyway to avoid detection. Poe can pose as a shipper of some sort and let us off. It'll probably take us awhile to get into the Temple and find the beacon anyway. Plenty of time for him to fly offworld again and rejoin the rest of the fleet."

               Leia considered this for a moment. "I think I can live with that. Poe?"

               Poe thought a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. Anyone can get them onworld safely it's me, and I wouldn't miss a final battle with the First Order for the whole galaxy."

               He then turned to Rey, "But take BB8 with you- he'll have orders from me personally to keep an eye on you guys."

               Rey was about to smile when a tweedle-wheee sound came from behind Poe and the little droid itself came rolling in, almost as if on cue.

               Rey couldn't help herself but laugh. "Alright. But what about you? Doesn't BB8 fly all your missions with you?"

               "Yeah," Poe responded, "but this time I could fly out with R2. He's just as creative in a pinch, right buddy?" He glanced down at BB8.

               Whistling a decidedly affirmative sound, BB8 wiggled its head back and forth in a "yes" motion that was astoundingly human-like.

               "It's settled, then," said Leia, taking the conversation back over, "Poe will land the ground team and rejoin Lando, Chewie, the Falcon, and every ship we have at a pre-settled rendesvous point. Rey, if you can get the device working, your message will be for all friends and allies of the Rebellion and of freedom to head straight for Coruscant. Once that's done, we'll move in to kick-start the battle."

               "Lando," she then turned to the last of her old friends, "you and Poe have until tomorrow morning to settle on coordinates and relay them to the rest of the fleet. After that, Poe will head out with the ground team."

               "Ay-yay, general," Lando replied, his face already filling with swaggering confidence.

               Leia turned back to the rest of the group, looking at everyone's face in turn. No one said anything, waiting on her. "That's the plan, then. You have your orders. It's now or never."

               "May the Force be with us all, one last time."

In Memoriam: Chadwick Boseman (1976-2020)

 

                Last month, in an announcement that shocked and stunned the world, Chadwick Boseman's family revealed that the beloved actor had been fighting advanced colon cancer for almost four years, and had now passed away as a result at the obscenely young age of 43. Saying goodbye to an icon is never easy, but it's especially bitter and painful when the icon in question is a young, fully-arrived superstar who should still have a whole life of achievements and accomplishments before them, capped by an extensive and hugely emotional tribute montage at an Oscars ceremony several decades from now. It feels particularly harsh right now, to lose such an incredible advocate for Black artists in the midst of **gestures at all the catastrophes currently being inflicted on minority communities by a Fascistic, racist Death Cult**.

                Chadwick Boseman had a life and career that has been cut far, far too short, but that makes it all the more astounding to realize just how much he managed to pack into his short time with us. Though the number of roles to his name will now remain criminally truncated, he is already assured a deep and enduring legacy. It wasn't for nothing that The Ringer published an article not too long ago saying, only partially in jest, that Boseman had already played (almost) every Black superhero. Attentive moviegoers were introduced to him when he became the man to finally portray Jackie Robinson in 42 and James Brown on Get On Up, both major, well-received biopics, but the world at large learned his name when he first appeared as T'Challa, the Black Panther, the first major Black superhero to head a major studio franchise. As good as he was in Captain America: Civil War (and as good as that movie was in general), that ended up being just a small taste of what he and the world of Black creators he was part of were about to present to the world.

                Black Panther, in the end, went far beyond being just another competently-produced, fun-to-watch comicbook movie. Between Marvel, DC, and their other competitors, the market is thoroughly saturated with those. No, it was something more; it was a genuine cultural moment, forcing everything and everyone else to respond to it going forward. At long last, Ryan Coogler, Chadwick Boseman, and the veritable army of Black artists around them had shown just how amazing and vibrant and beautiful a big-budget film made by Black filmmakers for (primarily) a Black audience could be. It also shattered box office records and remains one of the highest-grossing films of all time, an eternal rebuke to previous, often unspoken assumptions in the film business that "Black movies just don't make money." After Black Panther, there's no going back.

                Again, there is plenty of credit to go around as to why the film turned out so good, not the least of which being Coogler's direction and the sheer power present throughout the entire cast list (All hail Angela Bassett), but I've only recently come to appreciate the importance of Boseman's steady presence in the lead role. It's not a flashy performance, nor even the most noticeable within its own film; Michael B. Jordan's Killmonger and Letitia Wright's Shuri remain my personal favorites, as they steal every moment they spend on camera. Boseman doesn't employ the same kind of more traditional leading-man charisma that Chris Evans or Robert Downey Jr. brought to their superhero films, and I think that many, myself included, tended to downplay his part somewhat at first as a result of this. Revisiting the film now, though (and yes, the fact of his death certainly influenced this) I realized just how carefully the narrative is crafted around very small, easily-missed moments that show T'Challa going through a genuine hero's evolution over the course of the film. He begins with a more simplistic view of his father, of Wakandan tradition, and of his role, and is challenged repeatedly through hard choices and revealed truths in ways that force him to develop a previously-unimaginable new path for himself and his people. To deny Boseman's skill in giving us such a finely-crafted performance is to seriously undercut the artistic power of the film in favor of superficial, "Hey, Killmonger was actually right" hot-takes.

                I had also been unaware until now of how crucial he'd been behind the scenes in either making or advocating for some of the most important creative decisions behind the film's production, not the least of which was an insistance that none of the Wakandan characters would speak with Western accents. I can't even begin to imagine how that decision going the other way might have impacted the final product, but I am absolutely certain that it would have diminished it in a big way.

                I haven't even mentioned the fact that, in the midst of cementing his place within the first generation of the MCU, he also found both the time and the strength to add to his hero-resume by playing Thurgood Marshall in 2017's Marshall, yet another solid biopic film where he finally brought to the big screen a historical Black figure that, all too often, mainstream culture tends to forget about or misremember. It seemed there was no end to his capacity and willingness to push the boundaries of films for and about Black characters and stories.

                Sadly, his body and fate were not in agreement, and he has been taken from us in a cruel and arbitrary manner. I won't try to make a grand statement about what his life will mean going forward- as a White American, this is ultimately not my loss to mourn- but I do feel encouraged by remembering that the work he's done has already had a huge impact on American culture, and that isn't about to go anywhere. Plus, he wasn't the only one drawing a line in the sand and demanding that Black artists finally get their due; Ryan Coogler, Ava DuVernay, Dee Rees, Michael B. Jordan, Lupita Nyong'o, Jordan Peele, and so, so, so many others are still here and still fighting the good fight. So while Boseman may be gone, and his absense does hurt, his flame will live on. Of this, I am sure.

                Wakanda forever.

-Noah Franc