Welcome to History Lesson, where we take a closer look at the movies that dare to tackle real-life events with varying levels of accuracy, drama, and WTF casting choices. These films promise to educate and entertain, but more often than not, they rewrite history with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. We’ll be your guide through the land of miscast biopics, dramatic embellishments, and historical “inspired-by” liberties, breaking down whether these flicks are Golden Reel Award-worthy masterpieces or just a big-budget Wikipedia summary. Either way, it’s more fun than your high school history class—and there’s popcorn.
This time around we will take a look at Season 8's fact-based slate....
HISTORY LESSON: CROWLEY
In Crowley, Nicolas Winding Refn dives headfirst into the life of Aleister Crowley, the self-proclaimed "Beast 666," and delivers a film that feels like a fever dream laced with cocaine, heroin, and just a splash of sacrificial cat blood. Tom Hardy is magnetic as Crowley, capturing both his brilliance and his lunacy with an unhinged energy that could summon the gods - or at least make you believe he thought he could. From occult chess matches against imaginary deities to mountaintop sex magic rituals, the film spares no detail in chronicling Crowley’s rise as a mystic provocateur and his descent into a drug-fueled haze of infamy.
For all its hallucinatory madness, Crowley impressively sticks close to the historical record, albeit with a bit of theatrical flair. The Golden Dawn's messy internal politics? Check. His ridiculous "Abbey of Thelema" experiments with wild animals and polluted water? Absolutely. The infamous Book of the Law being dictated by a supernatural entity named Aiwass? Well, that’s what Crowley claimed, and Refn leans into it with devilish glee. While the film captures Crowley’s grandiose self-image and his undeniable influence on modern occultism, it doesn’t shy away from his many personal failures, leaving viewers to decide whether he was a visionary, a fraud, or just an absolute madman who couldn’t kick his cocaine habit.
HISTORY LESSON: DESCRESCENDO
Ah, Decrescendo, the tragic tale of Alys Robi, Canada’s own answer to Carmen Miranda - if Carmen Miranda had spent most of her career being wildly successful, then was mysteriously lobotomized into obscurity. Directed by the late Jean-Marc Vallée, this biographical drama leans hard into the heartbreak and melodrama of Robi’s life, though you might find yourself asking, “Wait, who?” Unless you’re from Quebec (and even then, you’re probably squinting a little), this is one of those “who greenlit this?” stories.
Christina Hendricks gives it her all, going from starry-eyed ingénue to electroshock therapy recipient with the kind of pathos that almost makes you forget you have no idea what song Alys Robi ever sang. The film hits its dramatic beats hard - too hard, honestly. Electroshock, de-nailing, and a lobotomy are given excruciating detail, but her actual music? Barely a blip. And don’t even get us started on the subplot about her lost duet with Frank Sinatra, which feels more like someone pitching a conspiracy theory on Reddit than a credible part of her legacy. Decrescendo is beautifully shot, yes, but let’s not pretend this was the most pressing historical figure to immortalize. For a film that’s supposed to be about the rise and fall of a star, it leans heavily on the “fall” part - maybe because the “rise” wasn’t quite as memorable outside Quebec.
HISTORY LESSON: THE TOWER
Scott Cooper’s The Tower drops you straight into one of the darkest chapters in U.S. history: Charles Whitman’s 1966 mass shooting from the University of Texas Tower. With Jesse Plemons turning in a chilling performance as Whitman, the film attempts to unpack the factors leading up to the event, from his abusive upbringing to his spiraling mental state. If you’re here for nuanced character studies and gritty crime drama, The Tower delivers. If you’re here for any semblance of optimism.... well, wrong movie.
The film’s grim intensity doesn’t flinch, but it also raises the question: did anyone really need a dramatized retelling of a mass shooting? Sure, it’s historically accurate down to Whitman’s Spam purchases, but there’s a lingering discomfort in watching such a tragedy unfold as entertainment. It’s undeniably well-made, with Florence Pugh lending depth as Whitman’s doomed wife and Michael Peña providing understated heroism as Officer Ray Martinez. Yet, there’s a sense that The Tower exists mostly to showcase how bleak and senseless human violence can be.
HISTORY LESSON: OCTOBER CRISIS
Who knew Canada had its own high-stakes drama that wasn’t about hockey or maple syrup? Enter October Crisis, where Kathryn Bigelow takes us deep into 1970 Quebec - a time when separatist Marxists thought kidnapping politicians and ranting about capitalism could totally start a revolution. Nicholas Hoult plays Bernard Lortie, the FLQ leader whose bad ideas escalate into full-blown chaos, and Michael Keaton channels peak dad-energy as a fuming Pierre Elliott Trudeau, dropping his iconic "just watch me" line with the kind of flair usually reserved for a mic drop.
The movie is meticulously detailed, but let’s be real - this is niche history. Outside of Quebec, who was sitting around thinking, “You know what would make a great thriller? A bunch of dudes ranting about mailboxes and Marxism.” The cast does their best to sell it, with Peter Capaldi doing his hostage thing as British Trade Commissioner James Cross and Ralph Fiennes having an ill-fated cameo as Pierre Laporte. Maybe this one’s for the deep history buffs - or anyone looking to see tanks rolling through Montreal for something other than a snowstorm.
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