Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (Eric Appel, 2022)

[domino harvey]

Daniel Radcliffe will play “Weird Al” Yankovic

[Brian C]

Daniel Radcliffe will play “Weird Al” Yankovic

Honestly, the quotes in that article from the filmmakers sound like they’re simply unaware that WALK HARD exists. Like how the characters in KNOCKED UP haven’t heard of Mr. Skin yet.

[therewillbeblus]

Daniel Radcliffe will play “Weird Al” Yankovic

Evan Rachel Wood is playing Madonna, Rainn Wilson is playing radio host and Yankovic's mentor Dr. Demento, and Toby Huss and Julianne Nicholson are playing Yankovic’s parents Nick and Mary

[swo17]

Daniel Radcliffe will play “Weird Al” Yankovic

Teaser

[brundlefly]

Weird: The Al Yankovic Story (Eric Appel, 2022)

This isn't just the greatest movie of the year, but the greatest biopic I've ever seen. It's a comically fake music-biopic with the heaviest leanings on the poetic inspirations of hack parody, an ultra-high frequency channel sewn together from pop cultural memory, refusing to acknowledge it has stumbled on to an internal logic that may just understand Yankovic better than he understands himself. Spencer, this is not. That would be a terrible name for this, I don’t think anyone in the movie is named that. Appel elides any merits in biographical objectivity to dive headfirst into a narrative, aesthetic, and psychological whirlwind of unhinged doofustry. I cannot stress enough that, above all else, this is the most determined, messy and pure exercise aimed at engaging with a person's subjectivity. Whether or not it's all Truth hardly matters. The perceptions are real because the experience is felt, and all of that matters with supremacy in this isolated vacuum of Radcliffe’s exhibition of Alfred Yankovic's lonely existence.

It would be wrong to declare this a one-note mission to portray a ruthless nightmare of powerlessness, oppression, abuse, and neglect, because those are four notes, which everyone knows would be a chord, not a mission. For all of the intentionally overstated bits, there are far more intentionally overstated bits. But there are also far more elliptical demonstrations of the elusive grasp Yankovic has on himself, as much as his surroundings, including the parental and romantic intimacy he craves the most. The range is vast, covering higher concepts like the illusion (digital, here) of the bond between psychedelic drugs and creative inspiration to other higher concepts like cocaine. It’s as if someone was on higher concepts while conceiving and also perhaps executing the film.

Fantasies of the mind function like movies within the film, reflexively clashing with violent abolishments of dreams. Reality is evaded and magnetized, at times paraded through the laziest, common steps passed off as fevered ideas. Dreams become nightmares, traumas are temporarily sublimated into dreams, self-constructed delusions are seen as only wholly tragic or saving graces -for simplifying them too much into hardened binary categorization assists us in resisting succinct diagnoses of Alfred and, in turn, call attention to the film’s attempt to frustrate its desire to cloak its parodic mastermind under parody). Instead, Appel implements surreal tactics that sever Yankovic from himself and us from a grounded sense of comprehension, and in that we share the same need he does, feel the same broad discomfort, and empathize on the only fair terms- on the only common ground we can authentically foster. The movie wants us to ridicule everything, especially movies that ridicule everything. That is why it is so, so long, so that it has more of itself to ridicule.

The film is sociologically cute but psychologically hapless, reflecting Alfred's own clouded hold on his intangible identity, which mimics the typical dimensions we're fed in biopics or character-driven narrative films, making room for the depths of the corporeal and the spiritual without a firm grip on either domain. Mechanically separated chicken, pork, corn syrup, water, contains less than two percent of salt, ground mustard seed, sodium phosphates, potassium chloride, sodium propionate, sodium diacetate, beef, sodium benzoate, flavor, sodium ascorbate, sodium nitrite, hydrolyzed beef stock, autolyzed yeast, dextrose, extractives of paprika, sodium lactate, potassium lactate, celery seed extract.

Yes, we're made quite aware that Alfred Yankovic is playing a 'role' as “Weird Al” Yankovic in his own life, alienated based on the dissonance between a desire to hide himself through mockery and the inevitable ways mockery reveals us. But what Appel has to say about our fragile relationship to our identity as moderated by a frenzied, oppressive –and depressingly palpable, physical, and masculine – higher power is profound in how abstract he allows the text to be while still keeping it as text, as close to our face as he can reach through the laptop screen.

The many (including my gurgling, morphine-ridden hospital room compatriot) who are ignoring the superiority of this project saw a completely different movie than I did, probably because they have been watching completely different movies than I have. Like Citizen Kane or Fire Walk with Me. In general, I find the uniform accusations against this film symptomatic of tired arguments like, “What is a Roku, is that that digital pet from Japan?” and “Didn’t Yankovic already do this?” and “Didn’t Appel also already do this, only in a way that will steal less time from my life?”

None of this would be nearly as effective if Radcliffe didn't give one of the best performances I've seen in... ever. It's a fearless performance, a courageous part to take, and if there's any justice he got to keep every Hawaiian shirt he fully inhabited. Julianne Nicholson (Blonde) and Toby Huss (Blonde) are also standout players as Alfie's supportive mother and his intimidating father in the film's ruthless first act. It's one of the darkest sides of mental illness I've seen portrayed on a would-be streaming network, stirring us more caustically in mere minutes than most horror movie villains do across a feature length, though they do reappear throughout the feature, and let me tell you a little bit goes a long way! Maybe all the way to Oscar™. And I hope they get recognition for escaping into the roles as bravely as they do here. Nicholson bravely dons a fat suit, a far braver feat than Brendan Fraser or Brendan Gleeson though I have a feeling she’s bravely bound to be overshadowed come awards season by one or more people named Brendan. I can understand why Netflix is burying this, why they wouldn't waste their money on a campaign. It's not on Netflix, after all. But awards don’t matter (even if Yankovic contributes a song over the credits whose lyrics declare its own Oscar eligibility) when you’re making Truth, and that Truth pauses to buffer occasionally so you can admire just how Truthful the movie has been being up until that point, while also giving you extra moments to admire how parody should be held as one of the sincerest forms of flattery. Or vice versa. (HT 1, 2.)

[brundlefly]

This isn't just the greatest movie of the year, but the greatest biopic I've ever seen.

I strongly disagree. Not that there aren’t good things. But Weird is plainly bad at figuring out which of its things those are (Here’s five words that should make any self-respecting hepcat dash toward the project: “Emo Philips as Salvador Dali.” And here’s five words that should make you bolt screaming away: “A Funny or Die Production.”) and proves time and again that its heart is in the wrong place.

It breezes right past winning ideas like

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insurgent, supportive underground polka subcultures; the bonds between very different outsider subcultures; the idea that its silly parodist hero becomes a villain the moment he embraces authenticity and has to face parodists of his own…

to showcase how many clichés it can recreate and mock. Its artist hero is teased as immune to moments of inspiration and that works as both a running gag and criticism of the film – but if that’s a case of the filmmaking being self-aware, it’s not a self-criticism the filmmakers are able to overcome. There is more energy expended on undercutting wink-nudge heartfelt moments than coming up with good ideas, which makes you miss those it picked up and put down all the more as it trudges on toward two hours.

Casting provides a lot of easy win: Radcliffe is more dedicated to the movie than it is to itself, his himbo bro backing band does the gig a solid, and I don’t think Rainn Wilson should be allowed to play anyone but Dr. Demento from now on. The pool party is a cool uncool checklist. But when Evan Rachel Wood’s Madonna shows, it’s astonishing how quickly you regret any goodwill you’ve granted the project. At risk of getting into “You should really just relax” territory, Appel and Yankovic think it’s hilarious to make every misogynistic accusation against the star’s career and character her only endowments. Other than Yankovic’s mother, Madonna is the only featured female character and she is little more than an opportunistic gold-digger. Despite creating successful pop hits on her own, she craves Yankovic’s parody “bump.” And the only artists of color featured in the film, Michael Jackson and Coolio,

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are the only ones whose songs are re-envisioned as “Weird Al” originals. Which again, I think is a great plot direction, but it is sad how selectively executed it is. “Black people stole music from white people” and reclaiming Madonna’s whore status may be the jokes, and the case is there that attacking two of the world's biggest pop stars is punching up, but I don’t think ironic racism or sexism have been sorely missed. The only major Latino character is a renowned drug dealer, but Arturo Castro’s Pablo Escobar (a role weirdly like Pedro Pascal’s in Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent)(or at least its trailer) is triumphantly adorable.

It's also a surprisingly violent movie – surprising until it isn’t, because unexpected violence is one of the go-tos Appel and Yankovic run into the ground – and all that adds up to is the movie as enough rope. Disclosure: I’ve never found Yankovic’s work better than amusing in small doses; prolonged exposure was not a good idea going in, but the notices were good and I was surprised how enjoyable the thing was until it wasn’t. (Further disclosure: I am also typing this from a hospital room, having just had surgery, and I’m sorry if the gurgling disturbed you.) Making fun of things is fun, but making fun of things is also mean, and even though Weird proudly parades its self-awareness and self-effacement merit badges, it determinedly rejects self-improvement and bypasses all its sweeter and more inventive impulses due to its cheap, mean spirit. Maybe Yankovic's third attempt at an autobiopic will retain/be the charm.

[senseabove]

This isn't just the greatest movie of the year, but the greatest biopic I've ever seen.

I strongly disagree.

Haven't seen it so have nothing to add, but just wanted to note that this was a good gimmick.

[domino harvey]

Oh my god, I completely missed what they were doing (though my monocles were properly popped out at the effusive praise of the first post). A golf clap is in order

[therewillbeblus]

The effusive praise of the first post appears to be mocking my Blonde writeup by copying it verbatim and inserting a few different words here and there. Funny

[domino harvey]

So it was a Weird Al parody of your post

[therewillbeblus]

Exactly

[Mr Sausage]

The effusive praise of the first post appears to be mocking my Blonde writeup by copying it verbatim and inserting a few different words here and there. Funny

Tapatalk sometimes transposes avatars, so I actually thought it was you.

[swo17]

inserting a few different words here and there

It's more than just a few different words. There are some very clever diversions in there, like the paragraph that devolves into a detailed listing of bologna ingredients. Not sure how I read it straight the first time

[therewillbeblus]

inserting a few different words here and there

It's more than just a few different words. There are some very clever diversions in there, like the paragraph that devolves into a detailed listing of bologna ingredients. Not sure how I read it straight the first time

I admittedly didn't read it- just the first line initially, then when the thread got bumped today I noticed the first lines of several paragraphs appeared the same and just figured