The Michigan Daily film writers love to watch and discuss films at the cutting edge of storytelling and there is no place better to do so than the Sundance Film Festival. After two years attending the festival only online, writers and editors for the Film Beat have trudged through snow and taken planes, trains and automobiles to arrive at Park City, Utah. Our coverage will include the premiers of dramas, romances, documentaries and everything in between. Welcome to our discussion on films made with Oscar winners and first-time filmmakers alike.
At Sundance this year, film writers Maya and Erin watched Elijah Bynum’s (“Hot Summer Nights”) “Magazine Dreams.” We had high expectations after hearing the film’s premiere received a standing ovation. The film stars Jonathan Majors (“Lovecraft Country”) as bodybuilder Killian Maddox, who is bent on fame and recognition at any cost. The writers responded to the film differently and decided to do a joint review to include both perspectives.
Maya: I can’t believe he got that ripped for this role.
Erin: That was incredible.
Maya: I want to be careful with how I articulate my thoughts. It’s not that I thought the film was bad, it was just incredibly difficult for me to stomach. But that’s a good thing. It unnerved and challenged me as an audience member. “Magazine Dreams” tells a story of self-destruction and anguish, the kind that you struggle to sit through — especially when told through such a talented artist as Majors.
Erin: Majors’ performance was captivating; he gave everything to this role. His ability to pull off the intense anger Killian feels at times while also showing his insecurity, shyness and hope, with unrealistic dreams that he is perhaps too determined to fight for, is amazing. With his intensity and authentic portrayal of all aspects of a quite complex character, Majors captivates the viewer, forces them to empathize with him even as they question some of his decisions because those decisions still make sense. Of course he’s this angry. We want him to change, but this will not happen at the expense of deviating from his character.
Maya: Majors deserves praise not only for how he surrenders himself completely to Killian by accessing his troubled head space, but for the sheer dedication and commitment on Majors’ part to convincingly portray a competitive bodybuilder. Majors is formidable as Killian; his jaw-dropping performance is uncomfortably real. Killian trains obsessively, eats nauseating amounts of protein and injects himself with steroids — his lifestyle is laborious and all-consuming, and Bynum spares the audience none of his brutal reality. Majors was unrecognizable, disappearing beneath Killian’s agony — just “believable” wouldn’t do his performance justice.
Erin: It’s certainly not easy to watch. The world seems against Killian: Following his parents’ death, he lives in a food desert with his grandfather (Harrison Page, “Lionheart”), surrounded by subtle and outright racism. When he goes for a run down the street at night, he is followed by a cop car. In a scene where he yells at a man in a diner who attacked him earlier, the fear from the other customers feels, while semi-justified, more dramatic than it would have been had he been white. Scenes like the one where he lifts massive weights until he can’t breath and collapses on the floor of his garage aren’t pleasant to watch either.
This film succeeds because his anger feels motivated despite this discomfort. As much as I often wished he acted differently, his actions never felt thrown in for shock value. This believability made it impossible not to care about and root for Killian, which is what makes movies compelling.
Maya: I struggled throughout this film to process my conflicted feelings, as my empathy for Killian was frequently challenged and overshadowed by how unsettled his choices made me. No doubt the product of childhood trauma and his unforgiving circumstances, Killian often feels an impulse to control, and this often manifests in violent outbursts. Though he doesn’t end up physically hurting anyone, he poses a clear threat to himself and others. Killian slams his head through a car window in a moment of rage, and even brings firearms to public places — in those moments the audience questions what his true intentions are.
Erin: I think a part of that uncertainty about his intentions comes from him having multiple, conflicting desires that shift throughout the story. The film gives a nuanced discussion of wanting control and superiority. Killian’s body is his way of taking the control that he lacks in all other aspects of his life. This idea develops later in the film: Does he want control, does he want to be remembered or does he want to look down on someone when he feels so looked down upon himself? He googles first “how do you make people like you?” and later “how to make people remember you.” In this second search, he scrolls past options about meaningful friendships and lands on those related to leaving a legacy and doing something bold and unforgettable. When characters seek universal, impersonal recognition rather than making personal connections, the distance created by that impersonability often extends to the audience. But we clearly see why Killian desires a legacy and fears vulnerability, making the discussion provocative and devastating, rather than draining the viewer of sympathy.
Maya: I was interested by the choice to not make Killain interested in sex in spite of his need for control, not centralizing sexual identity to his character. Films often portray men with control issues, especially those that concern physical appearance, to exhibit compulsive sexual behavior. Killian is hyper masculine and obsessed with scrutinizing his physique and when he does relinquish a degree of control in interactions with others, he seeks to form emotional bonds rather than gain physical pleasure. His genuine desire for connection makes his failure to form relationships all the more heartbreaking. During an interaction with a sex worker, a naive Killian desperately wants to feel close to her — only to be pushed away and scolded when he tries to kiss her. “No kissing,” she tells him. He tells her he no longer wants to sleep with her and leaves.
Erin: The seamless character motivation allowed me to trust Bynum as the director as well, which isn’t something I can say about many films. The film was surprising without ever feeling unbelievable based on what we know of Killian’s life. In other films, when the screen goes black midway through, I fear the film has reached an unsatisfying ending. When the screen went black in “Magazine Dreams,” I felt no such uncertainty. Because of how well Bynum clearly understood the character and his story, I was confident he wouldn’t end the film prematurely. The ending itself was deserved, the definition of the “surprising yet inevitable” ending my screenwriting professors have preached.
After watching the film, we texted Zach, the other film writer who joined us at Sundance. This was his response:
Zach: I’m at the same time devastated (cause I missed it and Jonathan Majors is one of my favorite actors) and ecstatic (cause it was good and Johnathan Majors is one of my favorite actors).
Senior Arts Editor Erin Evans, Daily Arts Writer Maya Ruder and Film Beat Editor Zach Loveall can be reached at erinev@umich.edu, mayarud@umich.edu and zloveall@umich.edu.