On "Trainwreck": And Why It's One of the Year's Worst

Fully aware that I'm sounding like the old man yelling at the kids playing in the street to "keep it down" at 3pm in the afternoon, I have to ask just where and when the American comedy went so..... wrong. Was it in the 1990's with the advent of "Saturday Night Live" inspired skits metastasized into hopelessly realized feature length form, completely haphazard of a script and relying on the improvisational zest of its comedian-turned-actors in their starring roles to carry the entire effort? Do we simply blame society-at-large.... where the over saturation of images, news, reality TV show adornment and celebrity worship have created a vacuum of tastefulness and wit? Or do we lay it at the feet of Judd Apatow himself, the crowned king of modern comedy, whose films continue to grasp both the financial and critical respect which so importantly provides future freedoms and opportunities? Regardless of who or what we blame, "Trainwreck" is yet another coffin in the nail of movie comedy, devoid of any real heart, depth or resonant enjoyment. That's its won the hearts and minds of so many discerning critics makes it an even more troubling current event.

Written by comic Amy Schumer, "Trainwreck"deals with her overcoming her relationship hang-ups when she meets good doctor Aaron (Bill Hader). Seemingly stunted by the morose ramblings of her father (Colin Quinn) at a young age, Amy inverts the role typically held for the "guy" in the film... which means she's sexually adventurous, drunken, and unable to emotionally connect (or even spend the night) after her many conquests. After she's pinned by her magazine editor (Tilda Swinton) to complete an article on hot-shot sports doctor Hader, she finds herself attracted and even falling in love with the man, even though every fiber in her body wants to react differently.

Several reasons for my disdain of "Trainwreck". Allow me to begin. The great critic Roger Ebert once said that even though he loves all movies, the films he loves the most are the ones about good people. While "Trainwreck" does go through the usual rom-com notions and arrives at a happy ending, I didn't like Amy Schumer one bit. Part disaffected valley-girl with a stream of bitter, nihilistic sense of humor coursing through her veins, she struck me as an especially nasty person who probably deserved her fate of one-night stands and frigid emotional connectivity. This persona of "new wave bitch girl" deviates straight from her stand up routine, of course, which makes "Trainwreck" even more of a laborious extension of the shallow foundations modern comedy movies exist upon nowadays. I suppose all we're missing is the movie version of Gallagher smashing watermelons.

Secondly, I've become less and less imbued with Judd Apatow films. After his 2007 film, "Knocked Up" (which incidentally remains one of my very favorite films from that year), the leash has grown longer and longer for him. His films run to gargantuan lengths for comedies and the humor feels improvised and stretched out like a mini-reel of best gags from that particular day. Gone are the laughs derived from story arch, character set-up or general reactions. Now (and not just with Apatow), but comedies are an excuse for a group of ten or twenty friends to get together, hang out on a movie set all day, get high and throw whatever joke seems to stick against the celluloid wall. There's no ingenuity, no wit in the humor anymore. The scene that got the biggest laugh in "Trainwreck" at my particular showing was Amy Schumer talking to her happily married sister Brie Larson (a terrific actress who looked bored with simply being there to react against Schumer's seemingly 'improv' hysterics opposite her) describing a tampon. Long, drawn-out, gross humor that feels more at home in her comedy stand up routine than a full fledged movie. Every scene like this stopped the film dead in its tracks and had me wondering where subtlety went. Did the Ben Stiller 'hair gel" scene permanently push us over the comedy precipice?

Lastly, outside the 'improv' framework, the other dead air moments in "Trainwreck" involved the endless tracks of cameo stars. After reading several good raves about the "scene stealing" appearance of superstar Lebron James in the film as Hader's best friend, I was expecting something special, but instead got leaden line deliveries and the usual amateur star athlete vibes from his "performance". He's cheap and wants to split the bill. Funny. He acts like the soupy best girl friend in other rom-coms. Inspired. After the cheap, mean spirited racial humor of Amy's father (Colin Quinn) in other scenes, I'm surprised James wanted anything to do with the film. Although he probably had no idea those lines even existed since the script was most likely 11 pages long with 170 pages of "improv" scribbled in the margins. Further yet, we get scenes with Matthew Broderick, Amarie Stoudemire, Tony Romo and even Marv Albert who gets to talk in third person as if he's narrating one of his basketball games. I can't begin to tell you how superfluous, self congratulatory and pointless this scene felt in a film full of incongruous intentions.

Perhaps all of this is my problem. Maybe comedy just isn't my bag anymore. Looking over the shelves of DVD's I own and perusing my "best of the year" lists since 2000, I count approximately a dozen or so. Half of those are Wes Anderson films, who maintains his own detractors and whose sensibility in comedy is about as alien as one gets from the Apatwo brand. Still, I have funny bones somewhere inside me. I know every comedy can't be "Dr. Strangelove", but I at least wish they tried to reach some peaks beyond dick and fart jokes. Or in the case of Amy Schumer, gay and tampon jokes.

The Last Few Films I've Seen, Dog Days of Summer edition

1. Cartel Land (2015)- Kind of makes me wish Trump does get elected president and build one of those high walls. Reviewed in full at Dallas Film Now

2. Gett: The Trial of Viviane Amsalem (2014)- Iranian cinema really nails the soul-crushing degradation of the things we take for granted here... such as the simple process of a divorce, which in this film, becomes a two hour portrait of 5 years in hell for Viviane (played by the co-director herself Ronit Elkabetz).

3. Wild Tales (2014)- I don't really see the hype over Damian Szifron's omnibus tales of revenge, violence and deception. The last section, though, is quite entertaining in the way it skewers the squalid ceremonies and pompous self-misery of wedding receptions.

4. Strangerland (2015)- Take "L'aventurra" and "Picnic at Hanging Rock" and one gets this Aussie thriller starring Nicole Kidman. Certain scenes and Kidman's capable performance of a mother unraveling are the best things about it. Full review posted for Dallas Film Now

5. White Star (1982)- What is it about 80's German cinema that just screams dilapidated scenery and hollowed out existences? In this one, Dennis Hopper stars as a music producer desperately trying to make his nephew a star. Everyone in this film just looks bombed out and strung out, especially Hopper who's sweating and sickly in every scene. Not a good movie, but worth tracking down for its unbelievable feel.

6. The Victors (1963)- Hard to find, unreleased World War 2 movie with a good cast and lengthy run time that dares to explore the war in-between the explosions and fighting. Various soldiers meet pretty European women (Romy Schneider, Jeanne Moreau and Elke Sommer) on leave and after they've taken control of the town, but its episodic feel and perhaps over-hyped reputation didn't quite do it for me.

7. La Valee (1971)- Without wanting to sound like Cartman from South Park, Barbet Schroder's film is one lame hippie movie in which a care free woman (Bulle Olgier) suspends her life and joins other hippies as they go on an expedition for a mysteriously unmapped portion of the New Guinea mountains. More hippie stuff ensues including fee love and Natives who run out and dance with the Europeans in a hippie juke. Just plain pretentious filmmaking.

8.  The Overnight (2015)- Uncomfortable for sure, but that's what the Duplass brothers love to inflict on their audiences and "The Overnight" is no exception. Terrific performances all around.

From Mane to Maine: Wiseman's "Crazy Horse" and "Belfast, Maine"

Whether he's training his camera on the autumnal haze of sleepy "Belfast, Maine"- with its potato plants, church choirs and local gas station denizens- or the writhing half naked bodies of beautiful dancers rehearsing their latest erotic spectacle in Paris, Wiseman is a filmmaker who understands silence is golden. Of course, editing and mise-en-scene is a comment itself on the subject, but both "Belfast, Maine" and "Crazy Horse" represent the best aspects of Wiseman's 45 year plus oeuvre.... which is a long way of saying he observes and visually dissects an institution or locale with monk-like patience and an acute eye for the humanity wrapped inside the mundane.

"Belfast, Maine" (1999), one of the few works by Wiseman to document the sprawling intersections of an actual city (the other being "Aspen" in 1991), at first seems to unravel with little order in its four hour progression. It's only about halfway through its fly-on-the-wall tactics does something like a message emerge. And that message is that Wiseman's documentaries are probably the closest thing we have to actual life being lived on-screen. Through the seemingly random (and at times rambling) simple shots of people going about their business, dealing with Medicaid workers, checking into a hospital, or rehearsing a scene from "Death of a Salesman", "Belfast, Maine" paints such an evocative portrait of life-in-the-margins that it almost feels extraordinary for its ordinariness. I doubt any written movie character could be as seemingly good-natured and expectant of whatever eventually takes her life as an elderly woman describing her condition to an aid worker in one scene or the appalling state of health of another man who claims he used to smoke seven to eight packs of cigarettes a day, but now is down to a more manageable two-to-three since he had a stroke last year. Further still, outside of the people within the film, Belfast reveals itself as an almost too perfect hamlet of Northeastern charm and approaching 'wintryness'. As stated earlier, this is one of the few films Wiseman made centered around an entire city, but his efforts always canopy the specific atmosphere and tensions of the environment his chosen institution reside within. I can't help but feel a homely kinship to the surroundings shown in "Boxing Gym" (Austin, Texas") and especially the upscale cowboy aura buttressed around his 1983 film about the retail capital of Neiman Marcus' Dallas, Texas location. If there's a high compliment to be paid to "Belfast, Maine", it's that even though I've never been further in the Northeast than Philadelphia, I feel like I know it slightly better through "Belfast, Maine" and its tough-minded inhabitants.

About as far removed from the plaid-and-denim quaintness of Maine lies "Crazy Horse" (2012), a film thirteen years later that finds Wiseman firmly ensconced in the electric, haute couture confines of the world renowned Paris cabaret. What begins as titillating (beautiful, half naked women pampering their faces and applying make up backstage) soon turns methodical as the film endlessly charts, zags and follows the various beauties as they work hard learning their moves for upcoming dance numbers or stand listless while choreographers, set designers and club financiers argue, dawdle and crunch numbers. Actually, "Crazy Horse" isn't that different from the seemingly normal actions of Belfast, Maine after all. Boredom, struggles, and bureaucratic numbness is a universal language.

Made after "La Danse" (2009) and "Boxing Gym" (2010), "Crazy Horse" could be called the cap in his ballet trilogy, adapting a more free floating camera style than before. Instead of hinged in the corner, observing people talking or reacting to their surroundings, Wiseman continually frames the writhing bodies of his "Crazy Horse" women seamlessly.... none moreso moving than when one dancer practices alongside Antony and the Johnson's beautiful song ""Man is the Baby". Music and image, when done right, can often be a transcendent merging of arts, and in this quiet, almost nondescript individual moment that never connects with any other choreographed section of the film, captures something that feels stunningly private. That's documentary filmmaking done right... and it's just one of the thousands of little, off-hand moments Wiseman has been documenting and etching into film for decades now.

"Crazy Horse" is available on Blu-ray video
"Belfast, Maine" is currently unavailable on home video formats

The Current Cinema 15.5

The Tribe

Eastern European miserablism strikes again in Miroslav Slaboshpitsky's "The Tribe", except this time its long-take gaze interrupts the lives of deaf teenagers in a derelict boarding school acting out their base intentions with little repercussions or explanation. Adding to the extremism is the fact the film disregards subtitles and allows the story to be carried out through its characters use of sign language. In between the sobering depictions of hierarchical violence, prostitution, and an especially abrasive scene that rivals the unquestionably tough abortion moment in Cristain Mungiu's "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days", the film's subtle power comes from its silence. Emotions are expressed through small emissions of sound or the rapidly expressionistic thumping of hands and fingers as words are conveyed through the air. It's an especially unique narrative twist. That gimmick aside though, "The Tribe's" hall of terror these kids go through- partly out of economic strife and basic emotional indifference- doesn't quite rank with the indescribable, sad observations of Mungiu or Cristi Puiu because they're simply empty ciphers beyond their physical disability....or more specifically, they're pointed metaphors for the troubled situation of the Ukraine itself. "The Tribe" puts one through the ringer, but it lacks the residual effect of the sadness achieved in similar efforts simply because Slaboshpitsky wants to attack rather than delineate actual people caught up in the margins.


Aloft

Like "The Tribe", Claudia Llosa's "Aloft" belongs squarely within the framework of a particularly listless style of filmmaking.... that being the heavy handed 'indie', complete with redemptive story arch, metaphorical allusions (Cillian Murphy's character trains falcons but can't control or return to his own lost childhood) and a nervous handheld camera. Remarkably, "Aloft" overcomes all these redundancies thanks in part to three strong performances by Murphy, Jennifer Connelly and Melanie Laurent plus a committed sense of time and place. Tracking two separate timelines in the life of Ivan (Murphy)- the first dealing with the tragedies facing his ten year old self and complicated matters of mother Connelly and the second jumping ahead in time thirty years when French woman Laurent comes searching for answers connected to the mysterious aura of his family- "Aloft" deflates some of its power through the awkward hand of writer-director Llosa as if she were trying to incorporate every gesture and feeling before someone woke up and tugged the slight Hollywood rug out from underneath her. Regardless, she aligns herself supremely capable of capturing immense pain in the faces of her three actors and what emerges is a moving and fierce confrontation between mother and son that kind of bowled me over unexpectedly.


Me and Earl and the Dying Girl

Having not seen "The Fault In Our Stars", I can't attest to the oncoming rise of teen sickness weepies, but if that film is half as moving or sincere as Alfonso Gomez-Rejon's "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl", then I'm really missing out. As the "dying girl", Olivia Cook is all bright eyes and a bundle of pixie love, so its easy to see why Greg (Thomas Mann) and his movie-drunk partner Earl (RJ Cyler) slowly gravitate towards her atmosphere. Not only does her sickness encourage the pair to create one of their gleefully anarchaic and no budget movies to her, but the film we watch is endlessly name dropping and half camera shot stealing within itself. Based on a script and novel by Jesse Andrews, "Me and Earl and the Dying Girl" penetrates the clouds of twee that often circulate the films of fellow homage crafters like Richard Aoyade or Michel Gondry by creating a generous core of attachment between its three central characters. Even as the finale wound to its conclusion, I had prepared my defenses, believing the film hadn't quite burrowed into my head, and then there's a moment between Rachel and Greg as images roll across their faces that not only establishes the grace and humility we all deserve to experience with someone in our lives but also emphasizes the unexplainable power of moving images and the thunderous sway they often hold over us.

Trailers I Love

Genius Sounds: Love and Mercy

Bill Pohlad's "Love and Mercy" gets two things right. First, it reveals the fractured genius of singer-songwriter Brian Wilson in two distinct times of his life without losing momentum in either section. Too often, the balance and dynamic force is weighed distinctly towards one portion of the film or the other, but in "Love and Mercy", they coalesce and compliment each other beautifully. Secondly, it exalts and analyzes the frustrated, creative mindset of a musical icon while he's still alive and kicking on this mortal coil- which makes the film that much more respectful. We can seek out, experience and savor the man's artistry without resorting to testimonials of his marginalized existence while the actual artistry was being created. Beyond that, "Love and Mercy" is an actor's movie that digs deep and allows the masterly performances of its principals (Paul Dano, John Cusack and Elizabeth banks) to convey the complicated, scatter shot emotions involved.

Picking up well into the Beach Boys' mid 60's success, "Love and Mercy" hones in on the increasing uncomfortable pause exuded by Brian Wilson (Dano) as their fame grows and a Japanese tour looms. Convincing his brothers to tour without him, Wilson shutters himself off in the studio to work out the now revolutionary melange of sound that would eventually bracket their album "Pet Sounds". Considered a flop in its day, pressured by other band members to resort back to their hit-making standards and emotionally stunted by his abusive and overbearing father (Bill Camp), Wilson's fragile and active psyche begins to fissure under the stress.

While simultaneously telling this story, "Love and Mercy" jumps ahead in time to 1985 where middle aged Brian Wilson (Cusack) is just as stunted as ever, both creatively by the monstrous hand of Dr. Eugene Lundy (Paul Giamatti, who can do this type of role in his sleep) and emotionally, such as when upon first meeting who would be his ultimate savior in life, Melinda (Elizabeth Banks), he cordons himself off in a car with her and zigzags through a conversation that is both creepy and achingly lonely. Their relationship is the heart of the film. It doesn't overshadow the strong formations of mental sickness exhibited by young Wilson and Dano in an equally memorable performance, but it strikes at something more human and restless.

By blending both portions of Wilson's tortured life together as if they're happening at the same time, filmmaker Pohlad and screenwriter Oren Moverman elicit a fully formed and wide-eyed portrait of a cliched subject with fresh acuity. There may be a bit of armchair philosophizing involved, but no scene is as incisive as the first date between Melinda and Brian.... while opening up about his father, the camera holds on Elizabeth Bank's range of expressive reactions, followed up with a wry, half-hurt uneasy dismissal of "well, shit!" Lots of films have focused on the conflicted nature of creative personas well ahead of their time, but "Love and Mercy" shows us that paradigm and then allows something beautiful, besides the art, to flourish from it.

The Last Few Films I've Seen: Soggy Texas edition

1. Tomorrowland (2015)- Take a spoonful of "The Matrix's" well-tread ideas of a 'chosen one', cartoon action sequences and George Clooney doing his best Disney-dad superhero figure, and one gets Brad Bird's "Tomorrowland". It's a good film, just ordinary and non adventurous fun for the whole family. If that's your thing....

2. Aloha (2015)- Filmmaker Cameron Crowe has some genuine things to say about the messy and intricate crashes of affection between people, they just can't be found here. Reviewed at Dallas Film Now.

3. Police Python 357 (1976)- Doesn't quite rise above its implausible French 'policier' instincts, but filmmaker Alaine Corneau manages to shroud most of the film in his dour, harsh vision, such as the central murder scene and cop Yves Montand disfiguring himself.

4. Two In the Wave (2010)- Hum drum documentary about the budding relationship and career trajectories of Godard and Truffaut. The problem is, it never tells us anything new about the duo or their circumstances that hasn't already been written about or discussed at length over the past two decades. Or at least for us nouvelle vague affecionados.

5. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)- Holy hell, what a ride. I'm usually highly averse to the split second style of cutting in modern action films, but director Miller not only manages to create a cohesive vision of amplified violence and insane creativity, but the continuity of the action is splendid. See a body being thrown from a rolling vehicle one shot and there's the body falling in the background of the next. One of the great pleasures of the year so far.

6. Maggie (2015)- Slow burn and contemplative, and a film whose intimate drama is just as compelling as the melee on "The Walking Dead". Full review at Dallas Film Now.

7. On the Edge (1985)- Bruce Dern as a banned athlete bucking the system and running in a California race anyway. Director Rob Nilsson may be a far left-wing nut in his beliefs, but the few films of his I've seen respectfully and dutifully evoke a very specific time and place (Northern California) like the best indie filmmakers.

8. The Seventh Companion (1968)- Finally tracking down the first film of Alexie German's career (and completing my retrospective of him here and also here), I have to admit disappointment with his debut. The oblique nationalist references are there, but it plods along without the same caustic energy of his later efforts.

9. Kid Blue (1973)- Another long time track down, James Frawley's western starring Dennis Hopper as the title character easily takes the prize for most hippie western ever. Sure, lots of filmmakers "claim" to have made a hippie western (Monte Hellman and any number of z-grade Italians) but this one-featuring "The Man" constantly trying to halt Kid Blue's reformed status and a possible "free love" relationship between Hopper, buddy warren Oates and his wife Lee Purcell, sidesteps the veiled references and settles into 'hippiedom' pretty readily.

10. We Are What We Are (2013)- Devastating. Director Jim Mickle is the absolute best guy working the horror genre today. Not only is this remake better than the original film it's based upon, but it's a unique, measured pressure-cooker of a film that would be remarkable even without its gory accentuates.

Continuing the Strong Year for Female Rockers

New band Hop Along certainly rocks, mostly due to lead singer Francis Quinlan's sharp, pained voice that sounds as if it's going to shatter into a million pieces at any second. Terrific new album.




I'm not sure what else can be said about indie darling St. Vincent that hasn't already been printed in every music publication and online web source. Being a local girl Dallasite certainly helps in the exorbitant praise, but her latest track called "Teenage Talk" (from her self titled 2014 release)  is simply brilliant songwriting that encapsulates so many moods, sounds, emotions and remembrances that it plays like a musical memoir. Don't let her icy, choreographed stage presence scare you away. Just listen and absorb.

70's Bonanza: Le Serpent

French filmmaker Henri Verneuil hit his stride in the late 60's and early 70's with a trilogy of films including "The Sicilian Clan" (1969), "The Burglars" (1971) and "Le Serpent" (1973)..... highly entertaining (and star studded) "policiers" that have yet to find their due in widespread distribution here in the States. The Austin Film Society recently included "The Burglars" in a repertory screening under the auspicious title of "The French Connection", but that's the extent of Verneuil's impact on American screens. Even though I love the frenetic pace of "The Burglars"- in which Omar Shariff and Jean Paul Belmondo engage in one of the finest car chase sequences ever put to film- Verneuil's "Le Serpent" is the better film of the bunch.... a cerebral, coolly detached spy tale that spends much more time on the diagnostics of a lie detector test than the various dead bodies that wash up along European shores. Like John Huston's "The Kremlin Letter"- which also trades in skulduggery without a hint of pretension- "Le Serpent" details the carousel of double crosses, political innuendo, 'spyspeak' and Cold War fixations with an icy gaze. It's only fitting that, in the finale, when head spook Henry Fonda makes a swap with the Russians to bring back a downed Air Force pilot, not only does the film's biggest enemy get off easily, but its prefaced with a line of dialogue where Fonda says the intel of the American officer in "explaining just how the Russians were able to shoot him down at 30,000 feet" becomes more important than anything we've observed over the past two twisting, convoluted hours. I can only imagine this nonchalance is apt par for the course in the world of high stakes spy games.

 

Beginning with the defection of KGB agent Yul Brenner, his information to the Americans (and namely Fonda) sets in motion the devious wheels of "Le Serpent". His intel- that there are highly placed spies in all echelons of governments around the world- kick starts a series of murders, wearisome eyes and urgent secret memos in both France and America. Philippe Noiret is one such agent cast under suspicion. British officer Dirk Bogarde, seemingly with his fingers in every cookie jar, plays both sides. Fonda is unsure of Brenner's real intentions. And all the while, bodies of agents turn up dead, others go missing and seemingly innocent photographs belie sinister intentions. All of this is handled in Verneuil's no-nonsense approach, refusing to telegraph anyone's actual motive and creating a paranoid atmosphere where anyone could be "le serpent" working their magic to eradicate the others.

 

I can't see "Le Serpent" existing in any other time period than the 70's. Echoing the later American thrillers of Sydney Pollack and especially Alan J. Pakula, "Le Serpent" is an arid exploration of the callowness involved in world politics. The basic sentiment of wanting our world to be safe, but not knowing just exactly how we make it so safe, continually runs through the veins of this film. It's a thriller, yes, but also a pretty frightening document of plausible denialability.

In Praise of Maggie Cheung #2

The following is an ongoing exploration of the prolific work of actress Maggie Cheung

In the Mood For Love (2000), directed by Wong Kar Wai

Probably the pinnacle of Maggie's western attention came in her fourth collaboration with filmmaker Wong Kar Wai in the elegiac, heartbreaking "In the Mood For Love". Widely hailed as a masterpiece, Cheung's performance is all body language, eye gestures, unrequited glances and slow soft finger movements to her mouth as she puffs on a cigarette. It's an extremely seductive performance.

Set in 1960's Hong Kong, Cheung plays neighbor to Tony Leung, newly arrived at the tenement, and the two immediately form a sexual attraction, but decide not to pursue carnal lust since they're both married and their social structures (plus the confines of stifling moral code of the time) won't condone such a relationship. Filmed in dreamy slow-motion, which only heightens the beauty of both Cheung and Leung, "In the Mood For Love" is a two hour tease, revealing that its often much more powerful to portray repression than all-out passion. For fans of Cheung- or cinema itself, this is required viewing.

Full Moon In New York (1991), directed by Stanley Kwan

Made just before Kwan's masterpieces of the 90's, "Center Stage" and "Red Rose, White Rose", "Full Moon In New York" feels like the blander companion piece to "Farewell, China"... as if the woman Maggie Cheung embodied in that film actually settled herself and carved out a respectable (and sane) lifestyle in the carnivorous city. The story here involves three women, including Sylvia Chang and I-Chen Ko, who become friends and bond while they deal with a series of problems ranging from an unhappy marriage to the pitfalls of couch-crashing in between acting gigs.

Cheung has the juiciest role, though, as Lee, a lesbian flailing against her inner voices and falling for a real estate buyer in the meantime. Although "Full Moon In New York" repudiates any explicit actions of homosexuality (instead lingering on a sole knee grab and an emotionally charged confrontation when her lover walks in on her kissing a man), Cheung does just enough to almost make one wish the entire film had focused on her instead of the marginally involving issues of the others. Sadly, "Full Moon in New York" didn't quite live up to my expectations- based on the few Kwan I've seen- yet it should be good for Cheung completists.

 

A Fishy Story (1989), directed by Anthony Chan

 

 

Suspect title aside (probably from a broken translation or blurb I'm not familiar with), "A Fishy Story" stars Cheung and Kenny Bee as neighbors who struggle together during the 1960's. She wants to be a movie star and he simply wants to outlast the local riots and get back to earning money driving a cab. The film starts off unsure of itself, but, as it works towards its slightly cliched but tenderly rendered finale, it builds momentum. Cheung, resplendent in all hues of orange, gold and blue lighting, is again wonderful. Plus, its use of The Platters' "Smoke Gets In Your Eyes" predates its use in Hou Hsiao Hsien's tales by a few years and imparts the same woozy, atmospheric tone.

What's In the Netflix Queue #39

I doubt this is still contemporaneous with the advent and growth of streaming, but I still love holding a DVd disc in my hand. So, the next 10 titles in my queue:


1. J.W. Coop (1971)- Continuing my intensive 70's viewing with Cliff Robertson starring (and directing) about a rodeo rider trying to regain his career.

2. Beyond Outrage (2012)- Underwhelmed by Kitano's oblique and glacial gangster-fest "Outrage", this sequel promises more of the same. As a Kitano completist, I need to see it.

3. The Best Offer (2013)- What happened to director Giuseppe Tornatore? Huge success with "Cinema Paradiso" and helped launch the career of Monica Bellucci with "Malena", yet his films rarely get US distribution. This one, seemingly a thriller about a recluse (Geoffrey Rush) rediscovering his passion with an enigmatic client (per the Netflix description), never made it on my radar.

4. Tim's Vermeer (2013)- Documentary that got quite a bit of buzz last year.

5. Two In the Wave (2010)- Documentary double feature about the nouvelle vague, following Truffaut and Godard. Right up my alley.

6. Memphis (2013)- I remember this ending up on quite a few best of lists in its respective year. Film about a singer wandering about the titular city.

7. Stranger By the Lake (2013)- Alaine Guiraudie's highly respected but risque experimental tale about a murder around a lake frequented by homosexuals.

8. A Grin Without a Cat (1977)- Chris Marker's essay about power struggles in the 60's and 70's. Marker is a highly intellectual filmmaker whose work sometimes goes right over my head. This film, originally released in the late 70's then removed and restored by Marker himself, is often regarded as one of his most influential films.

9. Marketa Lazarova (1967)- One of those Criterion releases that has one scratching their head. I'd honestly never heard of it before, but that's the outright joy Criterion often exposes in cinema. Described as a "poetic and stirring depiction of a feud between two rival clans".

10. Life Is Hot in Cracktown (2009)- Another film that has me shaking my head (like the Criterion above) but for wholly different reasons. I have no idea why its in my queue, but I see it stars Shannyn Sossamon. I went through a phase of loving her a couple years back so I can only guess this is residual affection for her. Hey, she plays a crack addict. Can't be THAT bad.

The Current Cinema 15.5

Child 44


Daniel Espinosa's "Child 44" is a meandering, gloomy hybrid that successfully merges the murder-mystery thriller against the stifling backdrop of Stalin's early 1950's regime... a period in time where individual thought, personal expression and cultural shifts of the West were contained and punished behind a frightening curtain of fascist control. Even the idea of murder- considered a "capitalist" act- is forbidden here. This dire, oppressive state is where "Child 44" begins, following respected soldier Demidov (Tom Hardy) as he struggles to justify his intentions to solve a series of child murders while trying to maintain orders from his superiors (Vincent Cassel) and subordinates (namely Joel Kinneman) who only seem to care about progressing their own futures. Much of the criticism leveled at the film thus far is its pace and mood- both factors I found absorbing and compelling. Yes, the jump start into the procedural aspect of the film takes a while, but it's the build up and eventual justification for Demidov (and wife, played by Noomi Rapace) to buck the system and try to do what's right that gives the film its emotional purpose. "Child 44", like Ingmar Bergman's "The Serpent's Egg" and Michael Haneke's "The White Ribbon", brilliantly presents the notion that certain times and places in history are melting pots for violent actions that not only reflect the moral vacuum but are existential outcries against the time itself.


Clouds of Sils Maria

After the opening few minutes where we observe the jittery, technology-fixated personal assistant Kristen Stewart field calls and report back to her actress-icon boss (Juliet Binoche), Olivier Assayas' latest film, "Clouds of Sils Marie" settles down for what may be his most patient, unhurried film yet. His ability to capture incandescent facial ticks and near-perfect moments of realization, connection and raw emotion are still present, but they're buried within three great performances from the above mentioned actresses as well as the troublemaker-cum-trainwreck young star played by Chloe Grace Moretz. Dealing with the personal and professional crisis of Binoche when her filmmaker turned mentor dies, "Clouds of Sils Maria" is essentially her film as she struggles with the decision whether to accept the role in a sequel to the film that once made her a star or stumble back into her life of hushed whispers and token Hollywood CGI starring gigs. The interplay between her and Stewart is natural, unforced, and as the layers of life versus unreal cinema life bleed into each other, Assayas maintains a steady (almost ethereal) grasp on the whole thing. It's not one of his masterworks, but even a solid Assayas film is better than 90% of what's out there.

Regional Review: A Teacher

Austin Filmmaker Hannah Fidell's technical and thematic maturity doesn't seem to fit her young age (now only 28)..... especially since the salacious material in her feature length debut "A Teacher" is an easily untranslatable subject. But, she makes it work and work beautifully, almost peeling back the skin of her lead character Diana (Lindsay Burdge) with her camera and creating images that feel like they're projecting out of her increasingly crumbling sense of mind. As the thirty-something teacher hopelessly (and physically) unquenched by her relationship with teenage student Eric (Will Brittain), it'd be easy to dismiss "A Teacher" without seeing it for fear of something close to 'erotica-lite'. After all, Jennifer Lopez recently bombed with "The Boy Next Door", so scandalous older woman-student diversions aren't the most respected genres out there. Yet it's not necessarily the material that's stunning about Fidell's film. Although it is sexually frank and continually frames its May-December couple in no nonsense moments of intimacy and grown up playfulness, "A Teacher" is only the jumping off point for something more troubling, which comes into effect through the naturalistic and nuanced performance of Burdge as she reveals a woman running from some whispered emotional vacancies in her life and using her taboo attraction to mask the scars of something deeper.

Employing a mixture of over-the-shoulder hand held shots (as Fidell admitted in an interview with "Filmmaker" magazine that she cribbed from watching all the Dardenne Brothers films) and glacial tracking moves, the overall mood of "A Teacher" is haunting and assured. As Diana's mental state and ability to control the passion confusedly swirling inside her escalates, Fidell's camera sinks closer and more unstable. If anything, Fidell's film belongs in the new wave category of young directors taking the cinema of Michael Haneke a step further and adding their own millennial generation spin. Antonio Campus ("Afterschool" and "Simon Killer"), Sean Durkin ("Marcy May Marlene") and Gerardo Naranjo ("Miss Bala") all tackle uncomfortable subjects head-on, refusing to flinch and utilizing their cameras as if we were watching surveillance footage, daring us to look away at the abhorred themes of youthful dispassion and mental insecurity. Even though we're not dealing with violent Mexican drug cartels or sadistic teen murderers with "A Teacher", its story is equally unsettling in the bland, cumulative ways it reveals the slow dissolve of a fragile mind. The moment teacher Diana (in school dance chaperon mode) hopelessly and jealously stares at a female student in the bathroom mirror simply because she went to the dance as young Eric's age appropriate date, we know the damage is irreparable. Like her entire performance, it's there in the eyes and guarded body language of actress Burdge.

Not a native Texan, Fidell's "A Teacher" does take place in Austin, Texas. Largely indistinguishable (except for a few out-of-focus I-35 shots with downtown looming in the distance), the film does detour into the hill country when Diana and Eric steal away to a ranch in the country. The freedom provided by its sun-drenched country soon becomes troubling. They may feel secluded, but the owner of the ranch (who alludes to knowing Eric but more specifically his father) unexpectedly drops in and almost busts the two together. Serving as the sensible wake-up call to Diana, she suggests the two cool their relationship for a while, which is easier said than done on her part. The rest of the film remains couched in numbing suburbia.... neighborhoods of pleasant looking houses and drab, fluorescent school hallways, but there is that wonderful sense of vastness represented by the ranch. Like Texas itself, "A Teacher" explores the highs and lows of this state's erratic landscapes.

With her next film already completed and receiving good word of mouth at this year's South by Southwest Festival, its fairly easy to say Hannah Fidell has arrived. I hope she continues her competent explorations of both Texas and the complex dynamics of the people who inhabit it.

The Current Cinema 15.4

Woman In Gold

Based on a true story about an aging woman's quest to see the Klimt artwork that was stolen from her family during World War II returned to its rightful heirs, Simon Curtis' "Woman In Gold" kept me involved since the idea of looted Nazi art has long been a fascination for me. Not so fascinating is the filmmaker's attempt to "cutify" the relationship between snippy Helen Mirren and shaggy-dog, good boy lawyer Ryan Reynolds, who honestly feels wrong for the role. Their imple, one-note performances aside, "Woman In Gold" excels when it tells the parallel story of Marie Altmann (Mirren) as a young girl (played to perfection by Tatiana Maslany) and just how their family dealt with the oncoming Nazi oppression. Not only does the 1940's set portion of the film ably emanate the fear, anxiety and taut intrigue of Marie's flight from her homeland, but it bolsters the frustrated energy of present-day Mirren and the incessant bureaucratic blockades thrown in front of her. Alongside "The Rape of Europa", "Woman In Gold" tells an all-too shameful story with glimmers of hope that certain pieces of great art can still be redeemed and reunited in the proper hands.


Beyond The Reach

Should be retitled "Figures In the Landscape Part 2". For the first two-thirds of the way, this is a taut and wry survival thriller until a final ten minutes completely wrecks it. Full review at Dallas Film Now.


While We're Young

The films of Noah Baumbach can be alienating and acerbic, dealing with highly intellectual people who come off as either pretentious, stuck up or downright screwed up (see "Greenberg"). In "While We're Young", that pretty much all describes its main couple played by Ben Stiller and Naomi Watts. But instead of creating a lonely emotional vacuum for his characters to flounder, complain and waste away in, he imbues them with some depth and even had me caring about them. As a forty-something married couple, childless and left behind by the other couples of their age, Stiller and Watts find energy in a young couple (played by Adam Driver and Amanda Seyfreid) and try to re-live some of the spontaneity they once felt. Weaving in some smart filmic in-jokes and, ultimately ending up as a rather profound (and very funny) meditation on the veritable "truth" that lies right before their eyes, "While We're Young" ranks as the best film Baumbach has crafted yet. And Charles Grodin is fantastic.


Electric Slide

A weird, off kilter Godard homage that, even though it has its shortcomings, I still recommend for its New Wave pop soundtrack and beautifully framed aesthetic. Read the full review at Dallas Film Now.

Tunes For A Blood Moon Night

One of the better songs so far this year.





Continuing the strong year for female singer-songwriters. Carlile deserves her hard sought attention.






Massive love for Dallas band The Toadies (and short lived band Comet), but centro-matic/Will Johnson are a close second.


And here's Comet, such a shame these guys never broke through. Like Explosions In the Sky but a bit more off-kilter in their epic arrangements.

Lost In America: Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter

Nathan and David Zellner's latest film, "Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter", takes as their main character a woman not far removed from the socially inept, slacker-aesthetic formula that drove the emotions behind the man (David Zellner himself) fixated on finding his lost cat amid his crumbling relationship in their terrific film "Goliath". How many times have we all convinced ourselves of a certain lie or created a unique diversion to stiffen some oncoming problem? The Zellner Brothers have exorcised those devious personal caveats and created a full length fairy tale wherein the fragile Kumiko (Rinko Kikuchi) travels halfway across the globe, partly to escape her deteriorating life in Japan, in search of a fictional bag of loot from the 1996 Coen Brothers movie "Fargo". Whether its a crumbling marriage and furry animals or a life-altering event in a faraway new world (as its subtitled once she lands in Minneapolis), the Zellner's seem to have a knack for elevating the inherent sadness found in socially acceptable structures such as marriage and cultural obligations.

For Kumiko, those cultural obligations include a job she despises, working as an office lady for a man who snidely alludes to her status of non-marriage and a team of fellow peers far more interested in their new eye lash treatments than actual human interaction. In between taking her boss' suits to and from the cleaners, Kumiko's only pleasure involves the incessant watching of a worn out VHS tape of the movie "Fargo", which she found discarded. Adding to her malaise is her mother, heard but never seen, racking her with guilt-trip phone calls to either marry or come back and live with her. Between all that undue, inchoate pressure, it's no wonder Kimuko slowly invents the rationalization that the "based on true events" titles at the beginning of the film are there to lead her to the money buried by criminal Carl (Steve Buscemi) along a desolate, snow-covered fence line in North Dakota.

As Kumiko, actress Kikuchi (of "Babel" and "Map of the Sounds of Tokyo") is a revelation. Never completely belying the nature of mental derangement most likely in her young character, she gives a modulated performance. Just watch the scene where she inadvertently runs into an old friend, Michi (Kanako Higashi), on the street. Kikuchi is restrained, protective, frail..... as if the ordinary albeit numbingly casual words that rise from Michi's mouth hurt her with every breath. Expressive through her eyes only, Kikuchi realigns her performance into something more determined once she arrives in America, unable to fully communicate with the people she comes into contact with, transferring her presence into a wide-eyed but defensive sponge. It's one of the more remarkable performances of the year so far.

But perhaps the most striking effect of "Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter" is its ability to rotate our expectations of a land I fully thought I understood. Like the best works of German auteur Wim Wenders, where his poetic and free-spirited men and woman traverse through the vast yet marginal corners of this great nation, there was always an outsider's perspective which made the familiar expanses feel antique, slightly deranged and even weird. We often felt their spatial and cultural dislocation. Even though the Zellner Brothers are Texas natives, they duplicate this same fresh perspective to dizzying heights, such as when Kumiko enters a roadside cafe and the camera slowly slides behind her, partially hazy at the edges, and the place's kitschy, baroque flavor looks and feels downright anomalous. It's a wonderful moment in a film full of them.

Even though, ultimately, "Kumiko, The Treasure Hunter", supposes a dark denouement, it also rallies hard for the belief that, sometimes, the best medicine is to lose ourselves in a totally inept faith of something... anything. Even if we never find that cat, the search is more rewarding than the catch.

The Current Cinema 15.3

'71

I've almost forgotten exactly where Yann Demange's "'71" falls in the hectic line of new Jack O'Connell films. And yes, we get it, he's going to be a star. But here, he's asked to do very little besides wheeze and look exhausted the entire film as he plays a British soldier lost behind the slum lines during the Irish "troubles". That's not a knock on him. Substitute anyone in this role and the results would probably be the same. Demange's kinetic, frenzied tale isn't really about this single man, but his unwilling initiation and observance of the constantly shifting politics behind any good country's civil strife. The violence is swift and brutal. The sides, although supposedly clearly drawn, secede into a swamp of uncertainty as undercover cops play both sides, genuinely decent people try to make sense of the conflict and unflinching loyalty- even when one sees that allegiance is damning- coalesce into a muddy portrait of hopelessness. It's a powerful film driven by a simple action film conceit- be superman and get out alive.


It Follows

It may seem rote to attempt a new subversion of the horror genre, but writer-director David Robert Mitchell does just that in his latest film "It Follows". Taking the act of sexual intercourse, which often spells disaster for teens in all those slasher horror movies of yesteryear, is stretched to full length parable here. Often a very vulnerable, short-circuit-head moment for young people (or really anyone of any age), the act of sex is shrouded in guilt, paranoia and complete fear in "It Follows" as "something" begins to stalk poor Jay (Maika Monroe) after having sex with Hugh (Jake Weary). Immediately knocking her out and subduing her, she awakens to his wild story of having to do this to her so "something" would quit stalking him and be transferred to her. In full control of every facet of the film, from its precise camera placement and movement to the moody synth soundtrack, Mitchell has created a deeply unsettling experience that understands the psychology of scare is always more penetrating than the scare itself. In his debut feature, the wonderful "The Myth of the American Sleepover", he perfectly accentuated the universal emotions of suburban teen aimlessness. Though far removed from my own current generational outlook, the film felt true and purposeful, as if he tapped into my own half memories and daydreams of being fifteen again. In "It Follows", the teens from that film could have graduated to these more grown-up acts, still aimless, but now struggling with not only the pangs of young adulthood, but the spectre of real consequences. It's one of the year's best films.



The Gunman

I spoke of O'Connell huffing and wheezing, well Sean Penn does it here too. Not a very good film but it fed my cheesy 80's action vibe. Full review can be read here.

In Praise of Maggie Cheung #1

 Part of an ongoing series exploring the prolific, long-standing work of actress Maggie Cheung

 Clean (2004), directed by Olivier Assayas

My initial thoughts on "Clean" back in 2006, in which it placed number 5 on my best films of the year list:

"The most criminally under appreciated film on this list, French auteur Olivier Assayas strikes subtle gold again as he charts the day-to-day survival of the gloriously pretty Maggie Cheung, fresh out of rehab after the drug overdose of her rock star husband. The film’s main conceit is the unobtrusive manner in which the camera hovers on Cheung’s shoulder as she struggles to reconnect with her son, now in the possession of his grandfather (played with tender precision by Nick Nolte, an Oscar worthy performance). Assayas works best in casual modes, and the beauty of “Clean” lies in the unpredictable narrative turns between Nolte and Cheung. Plus, no director films “hanging out” quite as easily as Assayas does."

Still holds true today, not only as one of Assayas' most overlooked great films (or perhaps that honor goes to "Boarding Gate"?), but for Cheung's effortless performance. Shaggy hair, decked out in a punk rock aesthetic (which probably wasn't too far removed from her own personal stylization of the time) and imbuing every movement with a dreary, labored swagger bemoaning the burned-out rehab mood her character struggled with, "Clean" is a heavy film made all the more desperate by Cheung's role. See it now.

Farewell China  (1990), directed by Clara Law

For her 1990's representation this time, "Farewell China" remains one of her more underrated (yet unavailable) efforts. Directed by Clara Law and winning several awards (including a jury prize at the Torino Film Festival for Cheung), the film is a bitter take on the Chinese immigrant experience in America. It's only after the first ten minutes that Cheung leaves her husband (Tony Leung) and departs to New York after finally acquiring a visa. Through her initially prolific letters, she becomes more distant from him and their young baby, eventually and curtly asking for a divorce. Unable to reconcile her reasoning, Leung departs for America himself to find his wife.

Not without her grandstanding moments, Cheung is a marginal character in "Farewell China"- the wife of Leung who sets him upon his Orpheus adventure into the underworld known as late 1980's New York City... a city whose anarchic tensions are bubbling through the seams like an Abel Ferrara picture. Roving Harlem gangs, scrappy 15 year old prostitutes (Hayley Man), homeless men who randomly steal shoes and a nighttime punk rock street party that borders on the openings to Hell are just some of the hurdles facing Leung as he spends several months looking for his wife. It's all carried out in histrionic fashion, but not without its subtle feelings between Leung and Cheung (a pairing that would mutate over time especially in the works of Wong Kar Wai) especially in the moment when they finally come face to face again. But, like a majority of the immigrant stories to America, they find "home" is usually far better than their new home, and in "Farewell China", the denouement is specifically angry and pointed. Not only has the city itself gone mad, but Law inverts the damage psychologically and Cheung/Leung become the unwitting victims to its mercilessness. 

Moon Sun and Stars (1988), directed by Michael Mak

Of the three films discussed here, "Moon Sun and Stars" is most likely the least seen Cheung effort. Yet, even though its not a very strong film, it's elevated by Cheung's performance.... which is typically one of the highest compliments an actor can be given. The fact that Cheung holds her own- and even carves out small pockets of real empathy and depth- in a sub standard comedy/drama about three "service girls" fighting to keep their heads above water during their various trials and tribulations speaks to the credibility of her on screen persona. While the young, beautiful women in "Moon Sun and Stars" endure every type of voracious hardships in the guise of abuse, rape and general dismissal by men even when the promise of true happiness is dangled in front of them, its the simple reaction of Maggie's crestfallen girl when her suitor backs out of a promise that resonates. The overall film may trade unevenly in wild emotions, poor translation and straight up soap opera dramatics, but its Cheung that provides the lifeline for reality otherwise.

Top 5 List: The Con's the Thing

5. Nine Queens (2000)- The loss of Argentinian writer/director Fabian Bielinsky in 2006 was a massive loss to international film making. If one hasn't seen his 2005 "The Aura", then you're missing a flat out masterpiece. But his calling card to larger acclaim came five years earlier with this film, "Nine Queens", about the hustle and bustle of two men (one of whom is the terrific Ricardo Darin) attempting to pull off a massive con involving a rare set of stamps. Bielinsky understands the tension of the con lies in good characterizations... men and women who inhabit the full spectrum of good and bad and everyone in "Nine Queens" deserves a varying degree of observation. Infused with a kinetic Tarantino-esque inertia and a script that flies by with pure adrenaline, this is one film to seek out.

4. The Brothers Bloom (2008)

Starring Mark Ruffalo and Adrien Brody as grifting brothers who choose the eccentric but wealthy mark played by Rachel Weisz, "The Brothers Bloom" establishes itself right away as another entry in the cinema of "New Cool" as I call it. Director Wes Anderson being the godfather of this movement, of course, Johnson employs some of the same stylish techniques (whip pans, cutesy acoustic music, vibrant color schemes) but creates characters and a story that feel all their own. Perhaps too whimsical for some, I absolutely loved the way Johnson films Brody and Weisz falling in love through a simple dolly tracking shot as they walk the streets of Prague, disappear behind a row of stone pillars, and re-emerge holding hands. Self conscious and definitely aware of its coolness, "The Brothers Bloom" doesn't beat one over the head with it though. Keeping the sweetness intact between child-like Weisz and impressionable Brody as the story (and con-game) grows convoluted is the single masterstroke of Johnson's "The Brothers Bloom". Their relationship isn't a con, and that makes the whole thing work. While the black suits and shades worn by the brothers remains consistent throughout, there's a great scene towards the beginning of the film where we think the action is happening in some burlesque in 1920's Chicago, and then the brothers emerge in broad daylight on a graffiti-filled rooftop overlooking a very modern downtown. Again, some of the images in this film are breathtaking. Johnson seems to relish telling small stories against the fabricated backdrop of embedded narrative styles. And with "The Brothers Bloom" he does this magically.

3. The Spanish Prisoner (1997)- David Mamet has etched a glorious career out of his razor-sharp words. The second Steve Martin suddenly appears and tells Rebecca Pidgeon "I'll give you a thousand dollars for that camera...." in response to inadvertently snapping a blurry picture of him and his (supposed) private plane in the background, nothing is what it seems. As the hot-shot designer of the classic "whatsit" and the technological breakthrough that seems to drive everyone's conniving angle in the film, Campbell Scott is perfectly dry and suited to the Mamet-fold of sheep being led to the slaughter house. I remember first watching "The Spanish Prisoner" in an empty theater in Waco, Texas, feeling awestruck by the mood and tone of Mamet's control. I went back that same night for a second viewing, hoping to connect the dots even more. Yes, its a brilliant con film, but what's not said is more pertinent to the film. It's silences, eye movement and mannered performances are the essence of good suspense cinema and "The Spanish Prisoner" wades exuberantly within these unspoken characteristics. Yes, I even appreciate the stiff performance of Mamet's wife and muse Rebecca Pidgeon here, whose odd inflections and theater-like cadence add a special dimension to the quicksand atmosphere. I think this film is ripe for a re-watch. And looking over the reviews again, I really forgot how well received this film was, garnering special praise from Ebert and really breaking out of the gates from an early premier at the Sundance Film Festival. Special mention to Mamet's "House of Games" as well.


2. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels (1988) - Oh how much I laughed as a kid at the iteration of "Ruprecht" by Steve Martin. Yes, its juvenile and slapsticky and obviously catered to the 80's (which is a whole other post), but "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" also holds up today as a terrific comedy with a smart con at its core.

1. Hard Eight (1996)- Yes, it's not "The Sting" or "The Hustler" (although those are very obvious honorable mentions), but P.T. Anderson's mid 90's debut tracks the sleazy exploits of a down-on-his-luck drifter (John C. Reilly) and the mentor (Philip Baker Hall) who takes him under his wing, teaching him how to survive and thrive in Reno. Sharpened from an earlier short film work print called "Coffee and Cigarettes", the film brilliantly announced the prowess of Anderson through gritty performances, astounding cinematography and a strong sense of mise-en-scene as their relationship grows in complexity and danger. Choosing to set the film in Reno instead of the prototypical lush Vegas also adds a sleazy luster to "Hard Eight", succinctly conveying the smoke stained walls and greasy-fingered tables that dominate the film's settings. Very few films are as astounding right out of the gate as this.

The Last Few Films I've Seen, February edition

1. As Filhas do Fogo aka Daughters of Evil (1978)- Disjointed but highly atmospheric Portugese horror film in the loosest sense. Young Ana (Rosina Malbouisson) visits old friend Diana (Paolo Morra) on her palatial estate where they soon become embattled by peeping tom homeless men, electronic voice phenomenon and their own homosexual desires. Part Euro art film and part lesbian soap opera, it's ultimately a psychological thriller rehashed and pieced together from far superior vestiges of Polanski, Rollin and "The Haunting of Julia" from a year earlier.

2. Tiresia (2003)- French filmmaker Bertrand Bonello is a unique artist whose films straddle the salacious line between outright sexual shock and a pretentious philosophical outlook. "Tiresia" manages to encapsulate all of this into one sprawling, unexpected tale. The first half of the film predates his swooning observation of the sultry class (as in his masterpiece "The House of Pleasures") in bombastic tracking shots of transsexual hookers lining the nether streets of Paris, eventually following the titular character as she's picked up by a stranger and then held captive by him in his home. Slowly reverting to her male self without the assistance of her hormonal medication, the kidnapper grows weary of her and tries to dispose of Tiresia in an especially nasty way. She survives, only to suddenly gain the power of foresight and become a sort of mystic prophet in the small countryside where she's nursed back to health. Epic portions of Beethoven careen in and out of the soundtrack and "Tiresia" is complicated, even inscrutable at times, but its power and unusual scope are like nothing you've seen before.


3. The Flowers of War (2011)- Strong effort from wonderful Chinese filmmaker Zhang Yimou about the attack on Nanking from a more personal angle than "City of Life and Death", which took the atrocity to a hyper-real action film level. This one looks at the survival of a group of schoolchildren within the confines of a church and their unlikely protector, drunk mortician Christian Bale. Moments of over-sentimentality exist, but "The Flowers of War" is largely a gut wrenching and visually poetic treatise on the brutality of war. There's one tracking shot of two women being chased by Japanese soldiers- probably the best in Yimou's career- that careens up and down burned out hallways, across a littered rooftop and then down into the water as one girl jumps that made me gasp. Watch that scene here



4. Ballet 422 (2015)- The best kind of documentary. Enlightening, entertaining and fly-on-the-wally (if thats a word). Full review here at Dallas Film Now.

5. Da Sweet Blood of Jesus (2015)- Spike Lee has softened the experimental edges of Bill Gunn's 1973 film "Ganja and Hess" and spiced it up with crisp New York locales, singing church choirs and lesbian seduction. If those 3 things work for you, then this is your film. Reviewed at Dallas Film Now.

6. It Happened In Broad Daylight (1958)- Ladislao Vadja's take on the "M" murder series is a fascinating procedural that pits determined cop (Heinz Ruhmann) against child killer. The patience and calm attention to detail given to the hunt feels trendsetting for 1958. The only drawback is the violent score that telegraphs the presence of the killer on-screen. Still, hard to find but well worth the effort.

7. Night Across the Street (2012)- Prolific filmmaker Raoul Ruiz's final film wades in the excess of a mortal man lost in the haze of his half dreamt memories, awaiting his death by some unknown hitman. Or maybe simply death in the form of retirement? The potential, realized in such great films like those of Fellini or "The Great Beauty" about man's impending psychological crisis, feels wasted in Ruiz's overtly stylized and dry reliance on obscure literature and non-sequiter lines of dialogue. I understand this is Ruiz's aesthetic, but I was unmoved by it all.

8. The Children Are Watching Us (1944)- No one quite literalizes the scarring ramifications adults often place on children quite like De Sica, and this film, one of his earliest, sets the tone for later devastation such as "The Bicycle Thieves" and "Miracle In Milan". Oh, those final few minutes. Heart wrenching and a near perfect illustration of the feelings that have been boiling towards mom Nina (Isa Pola) for some time.

9. The Burned Barns (1973)- It's very disappointing when a film overflowing with this much talent- Simone Signoret, Alain Delon, Paul Crauchet, Miou-Miou- fails to engage. When the dead body of a young woman, elegantly discarded in the snow like the best giallo mise en scene, turns up on the outer edges of a farm owned by Signoret and her family, they become increasingly drawn into the mystery as Paris detective Delon tries to ascertain the truth. Signoret fares the best as the mother of the clan, quietly attempting to maintain the innocence of her sons even though all clues lead to their guilt. Still, "The Burned Barns" is a bloodless, lethargic affair. Director Jean Chapot seems to have toiled mostly in television work, which may account for the the film's stodginess and complete lack of dramatic inertia. Hard to find, but really only worth it for Delon's laconic coolness, even when he's wading through five feet of snow to solve a murder.

10. Focus (2015)- In the opening credits, the film gives props to someone named Apollo Robbins as con supervisor and pickpocket designer. I really wanna see the documentary on him. Otherwise, "Focus" is forgettable fluff, but brisk and amusing. Full review can be found here.