What the hell is wrong with Seth MacFarlane?

Ted, voiced by Seth MacFarlane, celebrates in a scene from "Ted 2." Photo courtesy Universal.

I'm really, really trying to determine why the “Ted” movies are a thing. I mean, I know why a studio opted to spend money to make two “Ted” films – the box office recoup from the first run through was quite impressive – but, after watching the second film and hopping over the first one, I don’t get it. I don't understand the love audiences have for the central character, or his sidekick, or the humor, or really anything about the “Ted” franchise. I’m most perplexed why people have and will hand over even more money – enough to justify a third one, more than likely – to support a vain, bothersome, atavistic piece of pablum passing itself off as a comedy?

Perhaps the answer to those questions falls upon director/co-writer/voice of Ted Seth MacFarlane, whose career has shifted from the creator of a failed television show to the mastermind of a media empire centered on that same failure. (What did Fitzgerald say again about second acts?) The man has a very specific comedy template, one used once a week on the capital of his domain, “Family Guy.” There's vulgarity, a plethora of pop-culture references, an entity that talks even though it shouldn't, heaping doses of offensiveness, even larger doses of solipsism, homophobia, regressive male behavior, mistreated female characters, and a weak attempt at finding heart.

You can find all of it in “Ted 2,” which features MacFarlane's irascible Bostonian bear making lewd, puerile jokes and gestures alongside his best friend and equally loathsome creature John (Mark Wahlberg). The crude Pooh knockoff opens the film marrying the woman I gather he started seeing in the first film, Tami-Lynn (Jessica Barth), although the marriage starts cracking at the seams because she married a talking teddy bear incapable of anything resembling sex. For whatever reason, MacFarlane's Boo-Boo decides having a kid will improve their marriage (just terrible, terrible logic), which, after some semen-based shenanigans and a failed adoption attempt, results in the state of Massachusetts declaring the stuffed animal to be a piece of property and not a person.

Thus, a civil rights lawsuit is launched to reverse the decision, spearheaded by comely, neophyte attorney/pothead Samantha Jackson (Amanda Seyfried), who becomes Marky Mark's token love interest because of course she does. There's also an underdeveloped subplot about a creepy janitor named Donny (Giovanni Ribisi) who wants to make his own version of the little fuzzy Ursa after nearly killing him in the first film. He works as a janitor at Hasbro, a company that should have declined to participate in this.

Another moment Hasbro should have backed away from.

So that's “Ted 2” in a nutshell, sans the patented MacFarlane brand of humor taken up a few notches thanks to the “R” rating he gets to play with. He tries ever so hard to offend, chucking as much dirty material into his script as humanly possible to either appeal to the lowest common denominator or rile up people he considers too sensitive. He’s like an 8 year old learning to curse for the first time: It's a little annoying at first but you kind of start feeling bad for the little guy because, gosh darn it, he's giving it his best shot and you don’t want to see him start crying.

Crudeness can't compensate for laziness, a trait MacFarlane exhibits in spades. The man is the master of using dated references – viewers get an unnecessarily long “Breakfast Club” montage and an homage to “Jurassic Park.” – just to tell the audience that, yes, he remembers flicks like “Flash Gordon” too. His punchlines are simple, obvious, staid and reflect minimal levels of original thought. Hell, his jokes even disrupt the film’s time line: Wahlberg drops a Tom Brady joke centered on recent legal events, but MacFarlane and his co-writers kept in a one liner about a Boston clothing company that closed four years ago.

  It was something of a local icon for New Englanders.

There's no precision to the  humor in “Ted 2,” or really in anything MacFarlane does. He's a comedic grenadier, a person who just launches explosive after explosive after explosive hoping a few of them hit something. Inevitably, some shrapnel will strike – an early cameo has a satisfactory conclusion after the end credits – but the majority of MacFarlane's one-man offensive lands harmlessly in a vacant field, miles away from their intended target.

None of this would irritate so much if the characters had some redeeming value. Alas, MacFarlane's Teddy Ruxpin knockoff and Wahlberg spend their free time pulling mean, childish pranks on people and aspiring to be the worst versions of themselves. Wahlberg complains at one point that his ex-wife wanted to change him; I have a hard time blaming her.

So, again, why is the “Ted” series a thing? Why do people want to watch stale jokes about Neil Diamond songs accompanied by a gay marriage parallel that manages to offend gay people? Most importantly, why do audiences continue to enable MacFarlane?

Review: One and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 115 minutes

Genre: Comedy

Ask Away

Target audience: Seth MacFarlane sycophants.

Take the whole family?: The teddy bear is moderately cute, but the vulgar things he says and does make the movie rather inappropriate for kiddos. Stick within striking distance of the “R” rating.

Theater or Netflix?: Don't blow your cash on the theater.

What is it with Seth MacFarlane and women? I have no idea what happened to him to give him such disdain for the opposite sex, but he does have a problem with them. The women in “Ted 2” are denigrated, demeaned and shamed for not acting like perpetual 13-year-old boys. The problem isn't limited to this film either; the things “Family Guy” have done to Meg and other female characters are grotesque.

                                                        A few examples, if I may.

Watch this instead?: There's nothing wrong with juvenile humor when it's done right. Take the “21 Jump Street” adaptation, which grounds those jokes in some legitimate emotional stakes and even has characters to root for.

War at its dreariest

Alicia Vikander stars as Vera Brittain in "Testament of Youth." Photo courtesy Sony Pictures Classics

Bombs light up the otherwise darkened French sky as unseen German troops march closer and closer to British nurse Vera Brittain's (Alicia Vikander) modest encampment. She's tending to dead and dying enemy troops amid the destruction of World War I, moving around the small bunker as booms erupt and the staff worry about what the enemy will do if the raid's successful.

The time it took to read that sentence is a pretty even match for how long “Testament of Youth” lingers around what should have been its most intense and engrossing moment. The scene instead shifts to the morning after, and the drama built up in those moments of war melts into a puddle of disappointment. Somehow, and for some unfathomable reason, a film about the horrors of World War I shoves the action aside and pushes interminable scenes of weeping in its stead, creating an impeccably dull and slight two-plus hour viewing experience.

Some of the absence of war issue traces back to the film's focus on Vikander's Brittain, who was a real person and wrote a memoir about her experiences during wartime. Her perspective resides behind the line, watching her brother Ted (Taron Egerton), beau Roland (Kit Harington) and comfortable acquaintance Victor (Colin Morgan) endure the terrors wrought by trench warfare. There are very few moments of them actually serving either, but viewers do receive ample opportunity to watch them gallivant about at the Brittain household (headed by reliable character actors Dominic West and Emily Watson) during better days and for temporary war reprieves. Vikander also spends a bit of time at Oxford before and after the war, allowing viewers to spend a few lovely moments with Miranda Richardson as an interesting and rather underwritten teacher. She's kind of a package deal with Vikander's goofy aunt (Joanna Scanlan), who offers something resembling comedic relief.

Kind of like this stock photo image of a British woman, but less animated.

“Testament of Youth” isn't a bad film – the aesthetics are sometimes striking and the acting is passable at worst – but it doesn't meet the standards of an interesting film either. The film is an unequivocal bore, a trite depiction of what was a terrifying and brutal war and reduces it to a romantic tear-gasm that spends precious few seconds chronicling the war’s fear and havoc. The scene depicted in the opening paragraph is as close as the film gets to earning that feeling, but it's edited to death and almost elided over completely to shift viewers back to safer, less interesting territory.

This complaint isn't a request for more scenes of war and battle, as limiting the carnage visible on screen is a good strategy given the focus of the film is on Vikander. At least, that's how it should be; instead of really delving into what she had to cope with on a quotidian basis while tending to German troops, “Testament of Youth” is centered on her relationship with the three central male figures in her life. Her emotions are based entirely on them, her thoughts and feelings motivated by their well-being and on their worries and concerns. What's the point of telling the story from her perspective if that view is shifted away from her so frequently?

It's frustrating to watch Vikander mope about when the filmmakers continue to hint at a more involving wartime experience for her. The horror of war isn't limited to the people serving on the front lines, and it's clear Vikander's Brittain experienced more than her fair share of tragedy while surrounded by the sick and dying. “Testament of Youth” even teases a bit of the moral quandary she underwent tending to the enemy during wartime. Alas, it remains little more than a tease, a fleeting moment of philosophy amid a rambling, disjointed period piece told the same way a as a 5-year-old describes a trip to the farm; this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened, and then everyone died.

And then the Grim Reaper took a break for tea.

Fortunately, “Testament of Youth” does come to an end, which arrives after a few more dry scenes that would serve as more natural conclusion. A postscript ensues, as it does with these types of films, the credits roll onward and the lights pop on inviting viewers to leave and ultimately forget about this disappointingly unremarkable film.

Review: Two out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer. 

Rating: PG-13

Run time: 129 minutes

Genre: Drama

Ask Away

Target audience: I gather Anglophiles and World War I hobbyists.

Take the whole family?: Content wise the PG-13 is a tad strong, but interest wise there's no way in hell anyone younger than that would want to watch this.

Theater or Netflix?: Or, you know, neither.

Does 'Testament of Youth' succeed at all?:  It at least doesn't glorify the war experience, an important factor for a film written by a pacifist. The argument against making war an epic experience isn't as persuasive as it should be, and a large amount of it is due to how trite and dry the rest of the film is, but it doesn't try to sell war as a worthwhile pursuit. So it has that going for it, which is nice.

Watch this instead?: I'd go with the endearing “Joyeux Noël,” also a World War I film based on real events, and the epic World War II film “Atonement” over this.  

         "Joyeux Noël" also proves Christmas can be magical regardless of the circumstances.

A funny thing happened while leaving Inglewood

Tony Revolori, Kiersey Clemons and Shameik Moore in a scene from "Dope." Image courtesy Open Road Films

“Dope” is a film about falling back into the comfort of retro culture, except when it indulges in the pleasures of 21st Century technology. It's a film about the tragedy of street violence and the difficulties growing up in that environment, except when it swerves into comedy both physical and vulgar in nature. It's a movie steeped in neighborhood realism, except when it veers off toward a Wile E. Coyote-esque chase sequence through Inglewood.

All of that is to say “Dope” is a complex film, one that sheds the categorizations its protagonists define themselves by. It has a lot to say about black culture, the white appropriation of black culture, sexuality, economics, the American Dream and violence. It has perhaps too much to say to maintain a smooth and clean pacing, but”Dope” always expresses itself wit, smarts, a deft touch, and a killer soundtrack.

                                                              For example. 

“Dope” is a film divided at its simply by levels, the top of which is the simple story of three teenagers in Inglewood, Calif.: Malcolm (Shameik Moore, rocking a hi-top fade), Diggy (Kiersey Clemons) and Jib (Tony Revolori). They're self-proclaimed geeks, a smart group of friends who listen to 1990s-era rap, go old school with their sartorial choices, play in a punk band, ogle girls (mostly Zoë Kravitz), study to get into college – Moore's aiming for Harvard – and try very, very hard to stay out of trouble.

Level two is when that last part falls asunder when Moore agrees to do a small favor for local drug dealer Dom (rapper A$asp Rocky) that results in a disturbing amount of Molly (aka ecstasy) and a handgun finding their way into his backpack. Going to the cops isn't an option, meaning they have to find a way to get rid of the stash without drawing the ire of drug dealers, users and a rather intimidating businessman (Roger Guenveur Smith).

Then there's level three, the story of how they extricate themselves from a really insane situation with the help of a surprisingly brilliant drug user (Blake Anderson). They come up with an ingenious way of selling the unwanted product (one that doubles as a promo for bitcoin), but have to watch out for federal agents and potential interlopers who would cause their best laid plans to backfire on them.

The description makes “Dope” sound like a drama, and while it does have those elements to it, the film copes with the dark realities of growing up in an undesirable place and circumstances with humor. A fair bit of the humor is vulgar and sophomoric, although those are balanced by some clever callbacks, jokes via voiceover narration, and one or two utterly macabre punchlines that make a viewer feel bad for laughing. 

“Dope” wouldn't succeed without the comedic element (the humor ties a lot of it together) but the film's genre subversions and cultural politics ensure it'd remain interesting without it. There are moments when “Dope” aligns itself to 1990s films like “Boyz n the Hood” and “Menace II Society” – films that serve as morality plays warning against the violence of the cultures and neighborhoods depicted in those films. Anyone who has seen either knows bad things happen to the lead characters due to circumstances both outside, but especially within, their control, and “Dope” adds a little of that ominous air to its proceedings too. Yet it swerves away from the portentous and instead uses what would be punishable activities in those films as a vehicle toward success for Moore, Clemons and Revolori. They dip into the dark side, engage in the things they tried so hard to avoid, and come out in much better shape than when they entered.

Drug culture does get a shout out in “Dope,” along with about a dozen other topics ranging from self identification and the complexity of black culture to the appropriateness of white people dropping the N-bomb. Writer/director Rick Famuyiwa uses his movie as a platform to address those issues and does have success in spurts, especially in the brevity of that last point.

                                            I'll let Chris Rock explain the issue. 

The problem though is he tries to say too much, tries to get far more material in “Dope” than there should be. It kills the film's pacing – almost half of it takes place over one day, while the rest is part of a three-week stretch – and it definitely meanders long enough to wobble right past a terrific ending, one that induced a boisterous round of applause from the audience. (The response to the actual ending was much more muted.) Ending on that right moment would have bumped up “Dope’s” final score by a few points. As it stands, it remains a rather good film (with an amazing soundtrack) that falls just short of exemplary.

Review: Four out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: R

Run time: 103 minutes

Genre: Comedic drama

Ask Away

Target audience: Mainly black viewers in their teens to mid 20s, along with independent film fans and anyone down with 1990s rap and hip hop.

Take the whole family?: “Dope” is a bit too violent and certainly vulgar for a young audience. Teenagers at least age 15 really won't have a problem with it though.

Theater or Netflix?: Theater if you can find it locally. Wait for Netflix if you have to drive to the boonies to find it.  

How does the film treat its LGBT character? “Dope” generally does right with Kiersey Clemons' Diggy, a lesbian who is by far the funniest of the three central characters. She’s never knocked for her lesbianism either; “Dope” celebrates her comfort with her self and redirects jokes made about the subject to the people shaming her for it.

Watch this as well?: The first half of the film has a very strong “Dude, Where's My Car?” and “Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle” vibe to it, so either works as accompaniments. Also check out “Menace II Society” and the original “Friday,” although do avoid the sequels to the latter.

Side effects of watching No. 3 include temporary stupidity and homophobia.

Never get out of (high school) alive

Thomas Mann and Olivia Cooke in a scene from "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl." Courtesy Fox Searchlight Pictures, (C) 20th Century Fox.

There are so, so many reasons “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” comes ever so close to devolving into a disaster. The lead is a white, angst-ridden, middle-class high school boy, the film is loaded with references to other films to a heightened degree, and one of the three main characters is a girl with cancer. “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” doesn't just walk on thin ice, it hops up and down while wearing metal boots.

So it's to the credit of the filmmakers and collection of young actors involved that “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” not only works, it evolves into a marvelous little movie that occasionally abandons verisimilitude yet still tells a poignant story with levity and a light touch.

The “Me” in the film's title is Greg (Thomas Mann), a reserved high-school senior trying to skate by as quietly as possible while living with his eccentric parents (Nick Offerman and Connie Britton, continuing her reign as media's coolest mom). When he's not blending in the background at school, Mann spends his free time filming parodies of classic films (for example, “Senior Citizen Kane”) with his so-called partner Earl (RJ Cyler), who also seems to have problems fitting into the school's social web.

Skating by ceases to be an option after Britton forces him to hang out with Rachel (Olivia Cooke) – the titular dying girl who is diagnosed with cancer and lives with her lush of a mom, Denise (Molly Shannon). The friendship is rocky at first, but it deepens as Cooke continues her treatment and Mann opens up little by little, even showing her a few of his films. Mann is eventually enlisted by high-school crush Madison (Katherine Hughes) to make a film for Cooke, a project that  becomes more and more difficult as Cooke's condition worsens and Mann loses his precious anonymity. Also on hand are Jon Bernthal as an insanely cool teacher and a few bizarre students to flesh out a very movie-fied Pittsburgh high school.

Similar to this classic, but without Tina Fey.

Figuring out how to categorize“Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” is tricky because it eschews a simple classification. The film instead aims to be an amalgamation of diverse genres, from cancer weepies and high school parodies to indie comedies and films about filmmaking (a la “Sunset Boulevard.”) That sounds a little messy, but director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon and screenwriter Jesse Andrews, who wrote the novel the movie is based on, use the absence of categorization to tell a simple coming of age story deepened by the other components. “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” is about Mann's Greg getting over himself, and his way of doing so is through cinema and, most notably, through his complicated friendship with Cooke's Rachel.

The process though is often painful to watch. Greg, like legendary embodiment of teen angst Holden Caulfield, is a perpetual pain in the butt. He’s a petulant child focused so much on his own needs he doesn't want to understand what Cooke is going through; hell, most of the time Mann and Cooke spend together features Mann complaining about one thing or another. Mann’s character comes ever so close to earning a punch to the face, but he never quite crosses the punchable threshold thanks to the performer’s underlying melancholy that proves endearing. Andrews plays a prominent role in that as well: his script constantly calls out the central character for his selfishness. As Cyler's Earl says at one point, “Don't make this all about you.”

He is certainly not the Cosmos.

“Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” is mostly about Mann; that makes sense given the first word in the title is “me.” But the film at least spreads the focus a bit to add a little Earl (that's a good thing; Cyler is pretty great) and a lot of Rachel, which is very much to the film's benefit. Greg may be the main character, but the heart and soul of the story belongs to Cooke's Rachel, who suffers through her cancer with grace, dignity and a maturity that belies her age. Even as the situation worsens and hope begins to dwindle, Rachel is never a victim of her circumstances or the cancer; she owns up to her mortality and faces it with courage and verve. Cooke, who puts on a wonderful performance, never succumbs to the movie cancer that wrings alligator tears from even the most noble actors and actresses; the audience feels for her fight, but she's never a pitiable figure.

Cooke grounds a film prone to flights of animated fancy and the occasional high-school stereotype for storytelling ease. She’s a major reason why “Me and Earl and the Dying Girl” succeeds rather than devolving into the kind of film-school thesis that drapes itself in forced quirkiness.

Review: Four and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: PG-13

Run time: 105 minutes

Genre: Dramatic Comedy

Ask Away

Target audience: Independent film followers in search of a quality entry into that field, as well as fans of well-made high school flicks.

Take the whole family?: This is one of those rare occasions where the PG-13 rating fits well. It wouldn't be a huge problem for a 12 year old or anything, but the heavy subject matter might bother anyone too young.

Theater or Netflix?: Worth a matinee trip for sure.

How much of the film is owed to other films?:  Almost all of it, really. Multiple shout outs are given to Francois Truffaut's “The 400 Blows” and Werner Herzog's oeuvre, and there are touches of Billy Wilder, Wes Anderson, Alfonso Cuaron and countless other directors as well. The film literally wears its influences on its sleeves; one character sports a jacket with a notable “Dawn of the Dead” patch on it.

Watch this as well?: “The Kings of Summer” is another solid indie flick about young men growing up with fantastical elements and slightly odd undertones, along with a performance by Nick Offerman. Might as well watch “The 400 Blows” and just about anything by Werner Herzog too; they play prominent roles in the film and are just awesome.

                     From "400 Blows," one of the most poignant scenes in cinema history.

The infinite pleasures of sadness and joy

Joy (voiced by Amy Poehler) and Sadness (Phyllis Smith) in Disney Pixar's "Inside Out." Image courtesy Disney/Pixar

What stands out most about Pixar's exceptional “Inside Out” is the current of playfulness swirling just underneath the emotional complexities and mayhem. The film gets dark on occasion, especially when it dips into melancholy and fright while reflecting the confused thoughts of a lost 11-year-old girl, but it never loses the happiness and optimism that starts the moment Amy Poehler's voiceover starts. “Inside Out” reminds viewers that while danger lurks around every corner of the mind, there’s always something there to make it OK, at least for a while.

In what might be the greatest casting choice in animation history, Poehler stars as the embodiment of joy (dubbed Joy) that exists in the mind of 11-year-old Riley (Kaitlyn Dias). Joy is the leader of the five emotions – she's joined by Fear (Bill Hader), Anger (Lewis Black), Disgust (Mindy Kaling) and annoying Debbie Downer, Sadness (Phyllis Smith) – guiding Riley's emotional state and the tone of her memories from a control room in the girl's head. Riley's memories are rooted in what the film calls core memories, which both dictate her outlook on life and influence her hobbies and interests (family, friends and hockey among them).

Props to Disney for showing that girls love hockey.

Things are going pretty well for Riley in the early going – having Joy in charge makes for a pretty sweet life – at least until she moves from her native Minnesota to San Francisco with her mom (Diane Lane) and dad (Kyle MacLachlan). It's a difficult moment for the young girl, and it becomes even more complex when Joy and Sadness, along with the core memories, are sucked out of the control room and into the maze of Riley's memory bank. Joined by Riley's old invisible friend Bing Bong (Richard Kind), Joy and Sadness must navigate through her memories and find a way home before Riley falls completely into emotional emptiness.

“Inside Out” is a blast, a film intent on giving the audience as much fun as it can within a 90-minute window. It plays with language, messes around with animation and the mind's reality, and offers a few moments of respite to smile and laugh at the monkey shines taking place on screen. I hate to use the targeted at kids while entertaining adults trope – how many movies don't try to appeal to as wide an audience as possible? – but “Inside Out” does work on that level, mixing light and friendly colors with Gilbert and Sullivan inspired wordplay involving bears. (Give yourself a second and it'll become obvious given the film's locale.) 

Wrong city.

It does all that without talking down to the target audience, despite a plot much more dense than a person would expect from a kid's movie. “Inside Out's” filmmakers handhold a little just to make sure no one gets lost, but they trust the viewers can do the heavy lifting and find their way through Riley’s mind.

“Inside Out's” plot complications also mirror those of the experience it depicts. With the caveat that I was never an 11-year-old girl, the film captures the complications of Riley's age and circumstances marvelously. Moving is an intense experience for any child, especially at that time when puberty begins to creep in and friendships begin to deepen or fade away. Riley's essentially forced to start over from scratch after more than a decade establishing her proverbial roots. Compounding the move is the broadening of Riley's emotional maturity. She's advanced beyond the age when thoughts and feelings are simple and easy to categorize; she's 11, and life has more nuance than it did before.

That's really the heart of “Inside Out's” story, the realization by Joy that the only way for Riley to grow up become a more complete person is to let go of her control of the memory banks a little and embrace the new emotional depths. The feeling of joy doesn't exist without contrast; people need some sadness, some anger, some fear and some disgust to strengthen the state of happiness. Even “Inside Out's” overarching happiness is contrasted by moments of sorrow (and one of absolute horror for people with coulrophobia) that bring out the best of Joy. The film does plunge deep into the sadness well though; every good Pixar film has at least one moment that just crushes viewers, and “Inside Out” is no exception.

To use a silly, juvenile but rather effective piece of jargon, “Inside Out” evokes all the feels. It brings just about everything out of you in just 94 minutes, leaving viewers a little bit wrecked but ultimately happy and gleeful at the end of its runtime. In other words, it leaves you in the same state as the best Pixar films.

                                                   It never stops hurting.

Review: Four and a half out of Five Stars

Click here to see the trailer.

Rating: PG

Run time: 94 minutes

Genre: Animated 

Ask Away

Target audience: Families and people who still have faith in what Pixar can do.

Take the whole family?: You're all set if the kids are 5 and up, as long as clowns are not a major fear for them or you.

Theater or Netflix?: I'm on board with a family outing with a little dinner and this movie as a centerpiece.

How's the short film?:  Kind of fun, actually. Simply called “Lava,” it tells the story of a lonely volcano that sings a song of love to attract another volcano. Even though “Lava” doesn't reach the heights of Disney's short “Paperman,” it's still a cheeky and playful appetizer that doesn't overstay its welcome.

Watch this as well?: Pick your Pixar film – my favorites include the “Toy Story” franchise, “Up,” “Finding Nemo,” “The Incredibles,” “Ratatouille” and “Wall-E.” I also suggest “Ponyo,” a Hayao Miyazaki-helmed film that also broaches the complexities of emotion amid adolescence.

A little more with the minds behind "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl"

Director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon on the set of "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl." Photo by Anne Marie Fox, © 2015 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation.

Here's part two of the question and answer session with the people behind "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl," featuring director Alfonso Gomez-Rejon and screenwriter Jesse Andrews, who wrote the book the script is based on. The discussion encompasses the motivation for the film, the "400 Blows," and a little interlude about Werner Herzog. Audio from the interview is available here.

Q: (To Alfonso Gomez-Rejon) Why did you want to direct this film?

Alfonso Gomez-Rejon: It was a very original piece of writing. We didn't know what to expect when someone says there's this movie about high school, that you should read it. You think of high school, you know exactly what it's going to look like. Usually it deals with people I don't understand or don't relate to, like jocks in high school who are never these six-foot guys with a letterman jacket. Plus, I was Mexican in a town where you didn't have to learn English.

“The Breakfast Club” specifically is a movie I carry with me because it spoke to me and I identify with Anthony Michael Hall's character so clearly and I hadn't seen anything since then. But when I read his (Jesse Andrews') novel, I really loved everybody; there was a deep sense of compassion that was on the page for every character. And I particularly loved Greg's journey; it kind of mirrored my own or one I wanted to take. It was something I could throw myself into and make something from the heart and also something that had a very unique sense of humor.

Q: So you thought you could be the narrator like Greg?

Gomez-Rejon: I'm not that smart or that funny, but his emotional journey is one I really respected. Visually, also, it was an opportunity celebrate movies. Once you start seeing the movie in your head your like OK, I'm hooked, I have to figure this out. How do I get this out of my system? I have to get the job done.

Q: Werner Herzog: Great director or the greatest director? Because you guys reference him a lot.

Gomez-Rejon: He saw the movie and enjoyed it.

Jesse Andrews: He sent an epic email. Not epic long, just epic Werner Herzog definitely wrote this.

Gomex-Rejon: It's when you get your inbox and it says “Werner Herzog” that this isn't a joke.

Andrews: Then you hung out with him.

Gomez-Rejon: I went to his house and (he said) can I make you an expresso, for example. Then he led me to the kitchen and making an espresso.

Andrews: Very German.

Gomez-Rejon: He is tied as one of the greatest directors in the history of film.

Andrews: Tied with a lot of directors.

Q: Also referenced more than anything else is Francois Truffaut's “400 Blows.” Of all the films to pick, why that one?

Gomez-Rejon: The film is one of my favorites, if not my favorite, and it has been for many, many years. Truffaut captured life and captured that freedom … it was this freedom you can sense was very palpable of them doing something new and also capturing this very bittersweet story that's both very funny and quite heartbreaking. Especially that last scene, which when I saw for the first time I couldn't leave my seat, I couldn't stand, I didn't know what to expect. When finally he (Antoine Doinel, played by Jean-Pierre Léaud) dreams of going to the beach and he finally gets there and he hits another wall and can only go so far, it's just heartbreaking. That movie just defined me in a lot of ways, of something I hope at some point I can capture that feeling. (Truffaut) never talked down to the kids, always treated them with so much respect; so much so that you identify with that young kid.

Q: There are parallels between the boy and Greg; they seem to be kids who are a bit misunderstood.

Gomez-Rejon: Very different in a lot of ways, but that interior life, that journey is so complicated and you feel such compassion for them. Also, what posters do you put on the wall? You put up your favorite movies and you go from there. And it was a way to pay homage to Truffaut.

Q: Both characters are finding themselves through other voices, through film or through Balzac.

Gomez-Rejon: That's really interesting. Sometimes when talking about it (“Me and Earl and the Dying Girl”) and hearing about it, you keep learning about this movie. You're absolutely right; sometimes it's a feeling there's no logic to.

Q: Something subliminal?

AGR: Exactly.

Q: Screenwriter Dan Fogelman was saying how he helped you write the script. Can you talk about that a little bit?

Andrews: Dan's the reason this is all happening in a way. So I'd written the book, and the book was going to be published. And that was already enough of this mind-blowing, holy shit I'm a published author now I don't have to live the rest of my life illegally disposing garbage out of the back of a truck among other degrading jobs I have to do. At that point I was represented by William Morris Endeavor, and they wanted to package the film rights with someone who would make it more appealing, who would make this project more appealing. So they showed the book to a number of people, and one was Dan. He read the book, and said “I want to be part of this, but I think maybe the author can write the script.” And who knows why; that's an insane thing to think, I'm a totally unproven commodity. He felt this had a strong voice and he felt maybe the author should get the first crack at trying to coax that voice into a script.

With Dan attached, it had become much more appealing, this project. Then he really shepherded me through this process of writing the script. I first had to read some scripts, or at least a script, before writing. I didn't have Final Draft, I really didn't know the form. I knew it was in Courier, I knew you capitalized some words if you think they were really important. You usually get a couple of words per paragraph maybe that you point to. I didn't know the rules.

Dan, his process was very organic, and very “I don't what you to learn more rules or shoulds and shouldn'ts than you have to.” He let me make a ton of mistakes, and some of them are still in there, and they look less like mistakes than things that make this movie a little different than other movies. That's how he works; some mistakes aren't mistakes, but you don't know until you make them.

Q: How different is directing the young kids than directing experienced actors? With experienced actors, you tell them a scene and they get it in the first take.

Gomez-Rejon: No, no, no. Not necessarily true. Not at all. You can have to 6-year-old actors and they'll both need different things. Just say three (actors): One actor may have a lot of training in a specific school and is married to that process. Another actor may be like a version of RJ with no training but just raw talent, and that is what keeps him pure. And another person that turns it off quickly and turns it back on. It's as simple as some actors like to talk and prepare, some people like to feel it and then get notes afterward. And it's the exact same way for teenagers and even child actors: Some child actors are so schooled that it's about breaking them out of that, and some are just absolutely raw. It's an intuitive thing; what does this actor need to make them more comfortable.

(“American Horror Story: Coven”) was an example: one day you could have teenagers, 20-somethings, and Angela Bassett and Dennis O'Hare, Jessica Lange, Kathy Bates, Patti LuPone, all in one day. Everyone just needs certain things: What a 12-year-old needs is the same thing an 80-year-old might need. It's just what's best for them.

Q: How did you find a way to keep the Greg character a realistic teenager without going too far? Teenage boys are kind of the worst, but you don't want to necessarily slap him around like Holden Caulfield.

Andrews: It's just an act of calibration that you just labor over for a very long time until you get it right, and you write it the wrong way once, twice, 10 times, 20 times, until you've finally written it the right way. It just takes forever.

Teenage boys are the worst, but they also contain things in them that are good. The world view of this book, this movie, of anything I'd want to make, is anyone you see is capable of surprising you, doing something unexpected that contradicts and deepens and enriches your conception of them. You see someone and you see a type, you say all right, this is this kind of person, here's the kind of thing they say and do and think and like and hate and so forth. And then they like or do something that totally upends that.

Yeah, he's selfish, and yet he is giving. His selfishness, his desire for invulnerability for example, it's a function of how deeply and how unbearably strongly he feels. He doesn't want to feel feelings because they're of such terrible magnitude.

Q: In a weird way, his selfishness is beneficial. Everyone else is talking about the cancer except for him, so he serves as an escape for Rachel. Was that intentional?

Andrews: Nothing is ever the plan. You're never like, here's the formula, this character's obnoxious but she likes it. You create the kids first, you put them in the room together second and then if it works it's because of these underlying principles that you're describing. But it starts with just who's a kid, who's a real kid, what's the real shit that he says, and does she like that or does she hate that? Am I expecting her to like it and in fact she hates it? Am I expecting her to hate it and in fact she likes it? And when it works you just know, and then it's the right thing. And that's the point when you've stopped writing the wrong thing and started writing the right thing.

Q: What's in the future for both of you?

Andrews: I wrote a book that got picked up by my old publisher. I'm excited, and hopefully it comes out spring of next year. I've written some screenplays too; it's great to go back and forth between the two. They require different things of you as a writer, so it's energizing to go from one to the other.

Gomez-Rejon: I've been trying to pick my next project, but there are a lot of opportunities now. So I'm taking my time and focusing on getting the word out on this movie first.