This week Todd Phillips, director of various comedies (such as Old School, Road Trip, Due Date and The Hangover trilogy) before turning his attention to the much-hyped, gritty Joker origin film, brashly stated that he had moved away from comedies because they are now too challenging to make with today’s “woke culture”. In light of this statement, it feels more pertinent than ever to discuss a comedy by a director, Takia Waititi, who candidly responded on twitter to the news of Phillips’ proclamation with the comment: “lol he funny”.
Following-up from the critical success of to Hunt for the Wilderpeople and box-office hit Thor: Ragnarok, Waititi’s new comedy film Jojo Rabbit sees a combination that many, prior to the film’s release, would consider inconceivable: satirical comedy, Scarlett Johansson and Nazi Germany – the most divisive, provocative and inflammatory period of history in modern times that would be bound to stir today’s said “woke culture”.
Based on the novel Caging Skies by Christine Leunens, Jojo Rabbit is set in Germany during the final year of World War II and tells the story of Johannes “Jojo” Betzler (played by the impressive Roman Griffin Davis), a passionate, 10-year-old boy who wants nothing more than to conform to the demands of Hitler Youth and to be a true, little patriot of Nazi Germany. The Nazi ideology is so overbearing and blinding for Jojo that he manifests an imaginary version of the Führer, who continuously appears to provide counsel for the boy and is played by Waititi himself.
After an unfortunate pipe-bomb incident at a training camp and persistent bullying by other members of the Hitler Youth when he refuses to strangle a rabbit, Jojo is forced to spend more time at home with his mother – Rosie (Scarlett Johansson). During his rehabilitation, he collects scrap metal in a robot costume and goes swimming with his imaginary Adolf Hitler. For Jojo, everything is perfectly revolving around the fascist ideology that’s dominating the country. But, unbeknownst to him, the allies are slowing closing in on Germany and, consequently, are threatening to overthrow everything that Jojo reveres. And one night, this is pushed further when Jojo discovers Elsa Korr (Thomasin McKenzie, last seen captivating spectators in Leave No Trace), a young Jewish woman, who has been harboured by his mother in his dead sister’s room. Jojo is then positioned in a convoluted situation where he must begin to neglect his deep-rooted ideology – that Jews are inhuman and have devil horns – for the welfare of his mother and himself.
Jojo Rabbit follows a long line of satirical comedies that deal with Nazi Germany. Whilst many in this subgenre have been hailed (if merely retrospectively) as sardonic masterpieces – Charlie Chaplin’s The Great Dictator, Ernst Lubitsch’s To be or not to be (1942), Mel Brooks’ The Producers (1967) all come to mind – others have been condemned for their tastelessness; the British sitcom Heil Honey I’m Home (1990) was terminated after one episode for its trivialisation of the Second World War. The subgenre is, undeniably a delicate one and any filmmaker that embarks on it, is walking on very thin ice.
Therefore, it is perhaps unsurprising that many, after its world premiere at the 44th Toronto International Film Festival, have bombarded this film with labels of: ‘crass’, ‘disingenuous’ and ‘insensitive’. I don’t, by any means, wish to detract from or ignore neither the countless horrific atrocities nor the evils that pervaded throughout Germany during this period, but I have to disagree with this line of criticism. It’s through its fantastical elements and deliberate, embellished stupidity that this film subverts and condemns fascism in 1930s Germany. This largely comes in the form of the imaginary Hitler, who speaks in pugnacious anachronisms (“That was intense!”, “Correctamundo!”, “That was a complete bust!”), eats unicorn and is simply illogical – a pointless presence with little beneficial input towards the end (which I’m sure is entirely the point). Is there any harsher way to attack the man and legacy of an individual, who took so much pride in his dignity and rationality?
If there is any problem with this film’s tone, it derives from the film’s attempt to establish a sentimental one that’s imbued with drama and, theoretically, meaning. It never quite hits the heights or complexity it alludes that it could. For instance, neither Johansson’s conflicted mother, who detests the war but allows her son to train with the Nazi’s, nor her missing husband nor her deceased daughter are provided the with space they require to be fully explored. Instead, they all appear as part of the framework that ultimately acts as the basic catalyst for Jojo and Elsa’s friendship.
Nevertheless, the film is bolstered by several great performances. Griffin Davis manages to perfectly balance the complexity of Jojo’s ideological shift and stands out for his varied emotions throughout the film – confident, shy, stupid and brash. He particularly shines when he’s positioned within the frame with other members of the experienced ensemble – he can aptly provide a compelling performance that repeatedly complements his onscreen counterpart – such as Waititi’s Hitler or the vile Nazis, played by the likes of Sam Rockwell, Stephen Merchant and Rebel Wilson – all of whom are amusing, despite their character’s repulsive beliefs. McKenzie and Johansson both provide nuanced performances that ensure the plot has weight and doesn’t get entirely lost in pure satire. A particular scene involving Johansson, as Rosie, impersonating her husband to reprimand Jojo is perfectly composed, refined and beautifully led by the actress.
Despite society’s present fragility with jokes, as identified by Phillips, Waititi’s Jojo Rabbit proves that even the most complex matter, when handled with care, can be provocative as well as humorous – it verifies that comedy is far from dead.
This genre’s divisive nature means that this film will not appeal to everyone. But, overall, this film’s esteemed cast, newcomer Griffith Davis’ tremendous performance and the script’s supreme ability at mockery makes this a delightful fun (notwithstanding the film’s repugnant context) and if you’re a fan of German shepherd jokes and an imaginary, daft Adolf Hitler who may (worryingly) literally appear from anywhere then this is certainly the film for you.
Following her critically acclaimed 2016 album My Woman, singer-songwriter Angel Olsen returns with her fourth studio effort titled All Mirrors. For the record, Olsen collaborated with producer John Congeleton, arranger Jherek Bischoff, multi-instrumentalist/arranger/pre-producer Ben Babbitt, and a 14-piece orchestra. The artist said in a statement: “In every way—from the making of it, to the words, to how I feel moving forward, this record is about owning up to your darkest side, finding the capacity for new love, and trusting change even when you feel like a stranger.”
Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds are back with their seventeenth studio album, Ghosteen. It is the third album in the trilogy that includes 2013’s Push the Sky Away and 2016’s Skeleton Tree. After a period of “delibaretely” not writing lyrics in 2015 following his son’gs death, which haunted the recording of his previous album, Cave started confidently writing lyrics again in 2017. Ghosteen is a double album, with the first part, which Nick Cave describes as “the children”, consisting of 8 songs, while the second, “their parents”, of two longer songs and a spoken-word piece. “Ghosteen is a migrating spirit,” Cave explains.
U Know What I’m Saying? (stylized as uknowhatimsayin¿) is the fifth studio album from Detroit rapper Danny Brown, out now via Warp Records. The follow-up to 2016’s abrasive Atrocity Exhibition features guest appearances from the likes of Run the Jewels, Obongjayar, Jpegmafia, and Blood Orange, and was executive produced by legendary hip-hop producer Q-Tip. “This is my version of a stand-up comedy album,” Brown explains. “Most of my close friends now aren’t rappers—they’re comedians and actors. So I wanted to create something that mixed humor with music. Something that was funny but not parody.”
India band Wilco have released their eleventh studio album called Ode to Joy. Frontman Jeff Tweedy describes the sound of the new album as consisting of “really big, big folk songs, these monolithic, brutal structures that these delicate feelings are hung on.” The album features the singles ‘Love is Everywhere (Beware)’ and ‘Everyone Hides’.
Tegan and Sara came up with the idea for Hey, I’m Just Like You while doing research for their memoir titled High School. In the process, the twin musicians stumbled upon cassette tapes of songs they wrote as teenagers, so of course they had to dig back into them and recreate them. The concept in itself is compelling: a group of songwriters discovering their earliest recordings and revisiting them with the skill and experience they’ve acquired as professional musicians. The album as a whole is lighthearted but genuine; there’s a charming sense of youthful naivety to songs such as the title track, which sounds straight out of a 90s teen TV show, while ‘I’ll Be Back Someday’ might be the most pop punk song the duo have crafted. Despite the rock-inspired direction the album often takes, on tracks like the slow-burning ’Don’t Believe the Things They Tell You (They Lie)’ you can recognize the pop elements the duo have been incorporating lately into their indie sound. Perhaps you need to know the backstory behind the album to truly appreciate it, but it’s also the way Tegan and Sara execute the concept that makes it effective: nowhere do they look down on their past selves, instead painting a nostalgic, heartfelt portrait of adolescent emotions.
Throughout their career, Opeth have established a reputation as one of the most versatile bands in their genre, most notably in their seamless transition from death metal band to prog rock titans. In Cauda Venenum is their 13th album and their first since 2016’s Sorceress, and it’s one of their most meticulously crafted, ambitious, and engaging yet. Both the musical and emotional range of the record is deeper, while the balance between dark and light is finely tuned. The artistry and skill on display, seemingly effortless, are as impressive as ever, while the songwriting is potent, though it might take a few listens to fully appreciate. Both the English and Swedish versions are effective, but there’s something refreshing about listening to the Swedish version. It’s hard to detect any missteps here, although it’s fair to assume that the record won’t sway anyone that is not a fan of the band already – nothing here feels particularly new. But Opeth have nothing to prove at this point – In Cauda Venenum is both undeniably compelling and masterfully executed.
The Talkies is the kind of album that crawls deep into your skin. Experimental rock outfit Girl Band’s sophomore project is not only a cohesive and ambitious effort but also an abrasively propulsive dive into the depths of a tortured soul. From the very first moments where Dara Kiely breathes close into the microphone like he’s fallen from a great height, you feel like you too have plunged into an endless abyss. Cavernous, screeching guitars center around Kiley’s manic, often indecipherable vocals, while bassist Daniel Fox and drummmer Adam Faulkner dynamically carry the songs with their captivating rhythm sections. Musically, imagine if Idles were forced to make a record without the classic punk rock guitars and took on a more esoteric, artsier approach. The record peaks early with the stand-out single ‘Shoulderblades’, where the best elements of the record are combined to dizzyingly hypnotic effects. It’s surprisingly sticky too, thanks to its neurotically repetitive, but never boring, nature. This isn’t a record that’s gonna move you necessarily, but it is certainly going to leave a lasting impression on you.
