Witching Hour: Horror Film Capsules

House of the Devil

Ti West’s “House of the Devil” is a definite step up from his previous genre riffs, “The Roost” and “Triggerman”. Shrouded in a great 80’s funk (with the tone set immediately by the big yellow block credits and a Cars-like knock off tune), it tells the story of a broke college student (Jocelin Donahue) who takes on more than she can handle when she accepts a baby sitting gig at a cavernous house in the country. Populated with distinctive and eerie faces such as Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov as the house’s owners, the film builds slowly. The first 2/3 is all atmosphere, mood and formalism as West sets up the exploration of the house with carefully framed static shots and slow, portentous zooms. Then the last part accelerates into a frenetic, freaky ride with some terrific shock cuts. It’s ideas are a bit derivative, but “House of the Devil” remains a strong genre effort that deserves a large midnight audience.



Demons 3: The Ogre

So apparently I’m one of the many who fell for this misrepresented movie. Made for Italian TV by “Demons” director Lamberto Bava, money-grubbing producers only added the “Demons 3” part to suck in any fans of that great series of horror flicks. Instead, we get a guy in a rubber suit dressed up as an ogre (and who seems to originate from a colorful plasma pouch hanging from the ceiling of a castle basement) scaring the daylights out of a woman and her family. There is some good atmosphere, but overall the film plods along with very few scares and even less gore. The enjoyable parts? The way the film changes from night to day with little sense of time (like all good Italian horror films do!) and the orgasmic screams of its female lead whenever she’s in trouble. That’s about all I can say for this one.

Trick R Treat

Michael Doughtery’s gestating-long-on-the-shelf anthology horror film is wild, energetic, gory and completely engrossing. Taking place over one Halloween night in small town Ohio, “Trick R Treat” has a deceptively simple throwback feel to it as it weaves together such disparate characters as a serial killer, ghost children, cranky old men, vampires and a demonic little thing with a pumpkin bag over its head. It does delve into its fair share of nastiness, but overall, “Trick R Treat” smartly juggles its zig-zagging story lines with humor and surprising outcomes. If nothing else, one can tell that Doughtery loves and respects horror movies.



Burnt Offerings

Another take on the demonic house genre, “Burnt Offerings” deserves little mention in this genre other than that. I suppose part of the fun in watching horror movies this time of year is discovering the great ones, and suffering through many of the bad ones. Oliver Reed and Karen Black play the couple who rent an old, spacious house for the summer and struggle as the house slowly invades their dreams and behavior. The house makes Black dress up in 1860’s style clothing and drives Reed to continually work on the lawn and pool, apparently. Filmed and released in the late 70’s, it definitely serves as a relic of its time…. soft lenses and all. At times, I thought I was watching one of those 70’s Emmanuela films. Skip this one.



The Hidden

Ok… more of a sci-fi film than an outright horror, but Jack Sholder’s 80’s cult item is still an entertaining ride. Fresh off his stint on “Blue Velvet”, Kyle McLaughlin remains in catatonic weird mode as an FBI agent joining forces with an LAPD office (Michael Nouri) to track a parasite that takes over ordinary people’s bodies and turns them into heavy metal listening, fast car driving killers. A dash of Cronenberg here and William Friedkin there, “The Hidden” is probably best viewed after a couple of drinks. Worth it just to watch how the parasite travels from human being to human being, though.

Grace

The psychological plight of new mothers has been a prevalant- and particularly nasty-theme for several years now and Paul Solet's "Grace" adds a new dimension to the genre. It would make a nice double bill with Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo's splatterfest masterpiece "Inside". As the mother to new baby Grace, Jordan Ladd locks herself away in her house and discovers her daughter isn't quite right. We discern that pretty quickly when the baby is pronounced dead in the womb after the effects of a violent car accident, but is born alive. Solet doles out information slowly, keeping the bloody actions just below the camera lens which serves to heighten the questions we develop about the mother. Is she imagining it all? How does the 'new age' aspect tie into the story? Solet does answer the questions and even leaves the possibility open to a sequel.

On "A Serious Man"

It's hard to formulate thoughts about the Coen Brothers' latest film, "A Serious Man". Visually, their flare for precise framing and point of view is firmly intact. Carter Burwell score is quiet yet haunting. The sound design (especially a scene on the roof of a house and the almost cosmic way Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit" floats in and out on the soundtrack) is tremendous. The laughs don't come as loudly as in "Burn After Reading", but their sardonic wit opens up a ton of small, amusing moments mostly in body posture and slow reaction shots. Still, there's something very hard to crack about "A Serious Man". Perhaps it's the almost oppressive air of 'Jewishness' about the film. I know very, very little about this style of religion, so the film's opening- some type of Jewish parable about a dybbuk visiting a couple in what I'm guessing to be Biblical times- immediately threw me for a loop. I'm still not completely sure how this ties in with the rest of the film. Other parts of "A Serious Man" are just as head-scratching, partly due to my own knowledge-incompetence and partly due to Joel and Ethan Coen's playfully oblique way of doling out information. I should, after all, be used to the Coen Brothers and their startling methods of presenting comedy and drama by now, but this is a film that probably deserves multiple viewings. Still, their track record for sucking the air out of the theater with a supremely anti-climacic finale has found its way into their third successive feature and will surely crank out just as much discussion as "No Country For Old Men".

Random Halloween Suggestion #4

A bit cliche, yes, but a helluva lotta fun in a sold out screening. Oren Peli's "Paranormal Activity" gave me quite a few goosebumps through its ingenious design and smart timing for scares. It's all pretty basic (stationary camera set up in the corner of the room) but it elicits some uncommon emotions (forcing your eyes to search the edges of the darkness, trying to anticipate where the movement or sound will emanate from). This is the type of thing Kiyoshi Kurosawa does best. While I'm not saying it's in the same league as Kurosawa's mind-bending efforts, "Paranormal Activity" does push some of the right buttons of mood and atmosphere.


Even if one doesn't completely buy the repertoire between its non actor couple (Katie Featherstone and Micah Sloat), "Paranormal Activity" is more about having fun than building up strong character development. I couldn't help but laugh, though, when during the screening I saw, someone shouted out "time to go, niggas!" after the third or fourth night of strange occurrences. An apt description indeed. See this one with friends and have a good time on Halloween.

The Kids Aren't Alright: Afterschool and Home Movie

Taking a break from the ghosts and haunted houses this Halloween season, I went in an entirely different direction and, seemingly, ended up with results just as terrifying. The homicidal, demonic impulses of children. Given the fear factor and creepiness of so many bad children movies lately, I suppose I shouldn't be that surprised. "Afterschool", the debut feature of NYU student Antonio Campos and "Home Movie" by Christopher Denham, share a common theme of modern technology documenting and informing the awkward self-growth of confused, screwed-up kids. And while neither film is a complete success in my opinion, they are exciting examples of independent film making pushing the envelope of technique and visual aggressiveness.


In the case of "Home Movie", director Denham opts for the messy aesthetic of a home video camera to document the slow-burn evolution of two siblings Jack and Emily (Austin Williams and Amber Joy Williams) from passive aggressive trouble makers to young serial killers-in-training. Mostly shot by Lutheran preacher/father David (Adrian Pasdan), we soon begin to wonder when anyone will notice the dangerous underpinnings of these twins... such as how they quietly appear without notice carrying blank stares or their grotesque fascination with the torture and dismemberment of the family pets. But as any faux-video camera movie lover knows, we have to work our way up to the sadistic shots, which "Home Movie" eventually conjures up in the final disturbing few minutes. To make matters even more ironic, the household matriarch (Cady McLain) is a child psychologist who tries to self medicate her children into bliss. While "Home Movie" does feature some creepy moments (whose shock edit is to visually collapse the first-person video shot with colored static and jump right into the next happy family moment) the fault of the very short film is its underwhelmed parent character development. How long will they continue shooting the macabre events after they figure out their children would put The Omen kid to shame? Enough for another 30 minutes of film, obviously. "Home Movie" is a nice experiment, but I wonder if a more traditional approach (i.e. careful camera compositions and less enthusiastic, unnatural parent reactions) would have gleaned just as many scary truths.

Likewise interested in the slow bridge from awkward adolescence to something a bit more demonic is Antonio Campos' "Afterschool". The better of the two films, Campos does choose calculated camera positions and a shrewd sense of editing to jolt the viewer out of our hazy submission when the violence does occur. Robert (Ezra Miller) finds life at an upstate New York prep school unfair. With few friends and a drug dealing roommate, he recedes into the world of online violence (You-Tube like clips of girls fighting) and amateur porn. While filming a documentary for his AV class, he records an empty hallway when two popular and pretty twin sisters emerge from the school bathroom in mid overdose. He runs over and sits with one of them as she dies. What follows is a scathing, absurdly funny and highly caustic examination of Robert's life as he deals with the trauma and tries to engage his emotions through the static window of the world he's absorbed online. And it features a final shot that re-imagines the entire film in scary and horrible ways.

Campos films "Afterschool" with a stationary camera that observes most of the action head-on with a blurred depth of field. People and images are often blurred until they walk up close to the camera and begin their conversations. It's as if we're watching this environment through the widescreen window of an observation room. And it fits the clinical approach Campos seems to harbor for his characters. Robert does find love (and sex) in muted, off-center moments with girlfriend Amy (Addison Timlin) but "Afterschool" eschews any coming-of-age gestures. This is nasty and sociopathic stuff.

It's impossible to deny the influence of Michael Haneke on Campos and his effort. The way video images are toyed with, "Afterschool" continually challenges the viewer to discern what's a recorded sequence and what's actually happening in narrative order. The opening shot of Haneke's masterpiece, "Cache" for example, has been his provocative style since day one. While Campos isn't quite in this territory yet, "Afterschool" does prove he has a knack for manipulating point of view into a twisted ideal. Campos even includes a wink to the audience in the final scene after we're exposed to the real nature and obstructed action done by Robert in that hallway observing the two girls die. But for me, the real triumph of "Afterschool" is young Robert's cut of the "memorial" video for the girls, quickly shuttled away by the uptight head master (Michael Stuhlbarg) after seeing the twisted images he put on-screen. I couldn't imagine a more fitting visual representation inside the head of a troubled kid than that, home video camera or otherwise.

Trailers I Love: Fantastic Mr. Fox

Random Halloween Suggestion #3

Michael Winner's 1977 horror film "The Sentinel" is all kinds of crazy good. Going back and reading some of the reviews floating around for this film about a woman who moves into an apartment building that exists as a gateway to hell, and one doesn't find much love for it. Sure, it's a bit campy at times- such as when Burgess Meredith shows up holding a cat and a parakeet on his shoulder- but the film does a good job of maintaining an eerie tone throughout. And when the finale does intensify and the grotesque denizens of hell are unleashed, "The Sentinel" becomes genuinely disturbing.


Besides a very delectable Cristina Raines as the lead character who thinks she's going insane, "The Sentinel" is definitely one of the most star populated horror films of the 70's, even if a few of them were yet to be known. Burhess Meredith, Arthur Kennedy, Chris Sarandon, Jerry Orbach, Eli Wallach, Christopher Walken, Jeff Goldblum, Martin Balsam, Ava Gardner, John Carradine and Beverly D'Angelo (in a very surreal turn) all turn up as people mixed up in the eternal struggle to keep hell from making New York its stomping ground. And no matter if you're prepared for it or not, the scene where Raines ventures upstairs and a white figure darts in front of her is continually discomforting.

DVD Shout Out: Sugar

If Ron Shelton's "Bull Durham" is the comedic take on life in the minor leagues, then "Sugar" levels off and presents something a bit more realistic... where getting to "the show" is a daily grind that seems to crush the life out of every wanna-be major leaguer. But in hindsight, Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck's intimate portrait of Sugar Santos (Algenis Perez Soto) and his search for a spot on a professional roster is less about baseball and certainly more about the compounding confusions that overwhelm a non-English speaking immigrant plopped down in the middle of America. And isn't that what the greatest sports movies do? Which is to say they present grand human emotions and self discovery against the ordinary facade of competitive sportsmanship. "The Natural" and "Tin Cup" says more about growing old than "Grumpy Old Men". And dare I even mention "Hoop Dreams" which packs more truth in every frame than any NBA game shown on television. "Sugar" deserves to be mentioned in that rare category of a sports film that tells a universal story with subtle flare and a discerning eye for the details in life.

As "Sugar", Perez Soto is a quiet force. From the opening, where we see him bounce back and forth from an American run baseball camp in the Dominican Republic to his cluttered small town and large family, we're immediately on this guy's side. With a searching camera that zooms and darts back and forth, rarely missing a small detail or change in some one's eyes, "Sugar" embarks on an unexpected ride as Sugar is signed to the minor leagues, shuttled to Iowa where he lives with a very white-bred family and deals with the pressures of everyday life in the minors. Submerging the viewer into the same disorienting experience that Sugar feels here- including a revealing long take as he walks through the lobby of a hotel and into a loud video arcade- directors Fleck and Boden make sure their film slowly evolves into a character study of unique proportions. Then, the rug is pulled out from underneath us and the film's third act takes a compelling avenue that sorta creates the magical effect of the overall film. The relationships that Sugar forms and the coda, where real life immigrant players speak directly to the camera and say their names and drafted teams, etch out a beautifully realized film about life on the edges of a dream.

With their previous film "Half Nelson", Boden and Fleck have risen to the top as strong independent filmmakers who document messy, complicated lives in flux. There wasn't a single mis-step in that debut film with Ryan Gosling as a drug addicted teacher trying to reach bright student Shareeka Epps. Fleck and Boden have a knack for subverting expectations in conflicts, and the moment where Gosling approaches drug dealer Anthony Mackie plays out in the opposite manner in which we expect. Likewise, in "Sugar", Santos falls for the religious daughter (Ellary Porterfield) of the family he's staying with and their relationship develops in awkwardly truthful ways as well. There's also the great moment in "Sugar" where he and his girlfriend meet a friend on the corner and we learn he used to pitch for the Yankees minor league system. Fleck and Boden's camera catches a glean in his eye before he averts his look down to the ground and a flush of remorse covers his expression. Whether that moment is scripted or not, Fleck and Boden wisely capture these glimmers of human nature with ease. For the entire running time of "Sugar", it also feels like they've captured human nature in motion.

Bonus: the stirring scene in "Half Nelson" where Epps makes a drug delivery to a hotel room and discovers her teacher's private life, told in sound, image and utterly honest eye contact.

Random Halloween Suggestion #2

I was first introduced to Peter Medak's 1980 film "The Changeling" for the first time earlier this year. I've since watched it again, and come to really love its quiet build-up and classic 'dark old house' tale about a man (George C. Scott) who rents an old mansion and becomes embroiled in bumps in the night, scary child noises and a seance. Medak, a director who dabbles in several genres, clearly understands how effective the edges of the frame can be. And silence... which makes the loud bumps and shakes all the more impressive when they do resonate. All around, "The Changeling" is a fascinating and scary horror whodunit.


The highlight has to be the aforementioned seance scene, which pretty much wrote the book on filming these types of things, including first showing the phenomenon known as automatic writing. If you haven't already seen it, rush on over and send it to the top of your Netflix queue now.

Quick Capsules

The Informant!

Steven Soderbergh’s “The Informant!” takes on an incredibly dull subject- mid west chemical company involved in possible price fixing- and throws in loose comedic swipes with a toupeed and slightly chunky Matt Damon doing his best to shed any Jason Bourne stereotypes. Unfortunately, not a whole lot livens this movie up. Retro music is keyed at the right moments and stream of conscience voice overs lull the viewer into a state of perplexity. Gradually, “The Informant!” shows us that our main character (though seemingly doing the right thing and turning government informer) is just as corrupt and maddening as the system of greed and negligent conduct he’s trying to extinguish. Soderbergh is a director I highly admire. On paper, his other film this year titled “The Girlfriend Experience” should have been the real clunker. Instead, that film’s visual experimentation and abstract ideas run circles around the more polished and safe “The Informant!”.


Sin Nombre

Cary Fukunaga’s “Sin Nombre” is a vibrant debut film. Full of haunting images both violent and humble, Fukunaga’s camera eeks out beauty in the most unexpected places- such as the shadowy figures of people lumbering on a top of a train, the way blood darkens the water around a body and especially the final image of a young girl (Paulina Gaitan) bathed in sunlight as she talks on a pay phone. Taking as his protagonist a dead-head gang member who runs from his past and finds redemption in the sweetness of a young girl “Sin Nombre” makes emotional leaps with little effort, mainly due to the magnetic performances of its two leads. This guy’s going to be good.


The Burning Plain

Early on in Guillermo Arriaga’s “The Burning Plain”, I begin to wish for less of his non-linear storytelling style. But after the pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place, the film would probably lose some impact if told traditionally. Charlize Theron is a damaged woman living in Portland. A man (Jose Yazpick) seems to be following her. In a more sunny environment, Kim Basinger is having an affair with Mexican Nick (Joaquim de Almeida). Her daughter, Mariana (Jennifer Lawrence) suspects the worst. Frenetic editing and jumbled time lines round out Arriaga’s gloomy parable of crossed generations and mixed culture attractions. And even though Arriaga relies on the heavy handed usage of things like scars, “The Burning Plain” does succeed as another potpourri of crashing story lines and damaged relationships- something he’s become very comfortable with after films like “21 Grams”, “The Three Burials of Melquiadas Estrada” and “Babel”.

A Long, Strange, Fun Trip

Image courtesy of Tony Gutierrez posted at
Lone Star Ball.

Ask any fan around here, and they'll tell you the '09 Rangers season was fun and electric, even if they did miss the playoffs due to some poor play in September. Until then, they gave the Angels and Red Sox some tense moments. Looking forward to next year, it's hard not to be excited about their prospects. Cheers, Rangers!

World Series prediction: Dodgers beat Yankees in seven.

Dead and Not So Buried: Jennifer's Body and Other Flesheaters

I don't usually flock to the theater when a movie as maligned as "Jennifer's Body" opens up. But, some good word of mouth from fellow blogger and friend Chris, who consistently burrows through the good and bad horror movies with subversive tastes, called me and said I had to see this film. I didn't hesitate, and you know, "Jennifer's Body" is a helluva good time.

Directed by Karyn Kusama from a script by Diablo Cody, alot of the seemingly misanthropic feelings against "Jennifer's Body" seems to revel in the fact that it's not a very scary movie. Having only seen the previews that seemed to convey the outright hotness of lead star Megan Fox over any other genre (since, yes, nowadays lady hotness is a genre unto itself) I went into the film with very little expectations of gore, scares or social commentary. As a clean slate, the film works very well. After opposing vehemently to the cutesy triteness of Cody's previous Oscar winning script "Juno" (please... really... a 15 year old girl is going to love Mott the Hoople!?), her sense of amusing one-liners and "what's up, monistat" sayings spin a uniquely humorous staccato speak and response in the (somewhat) vapid world of high school. In short, Fox and co-star Amanda Seyfried toss these pieces of dialogue out with sincere believability. I also laughed my ass off (out loud by the way since I was the only one in the theater) when Fox, levitating off the ground with rage in her eyes, calls Seyfried a "playa hater". The lasting effects of playful horror cult cinema- whether it be a terrifying take on high school menstruation in "Carrie" or lurid soap opera murder in "Heathers"- are present in "Jennifer's Body". Now, I'm certainly not comparing Kusama's work to either of those films right now. But, in a decade or so, I could easily see "Jennifer's Body" being rediscovered as an overlooked good time with nothing but fun in mind. And maybe getting a rise out of its few violent moments of flesh-eating by uber hottie Megan Fox.

A few notches down the gross-out meter sits Marcel Sarmiento and Gadi Harel's "Deadgirl". Poised with none of the tongue-in-cheek looseness of "Jennifer's Body", this is a very ugly film both visually and tonally. The idea- that two high school guys (already on the fringe of society) break into an old mental hospital and find a naked girl chained to the table in a secret room... and then keep her there for their own sexual satisfaction!- is startlingly original but repugnant due to the shallow script and D level acting of its no name stars. Imagine Larry Clark dipping into the waters of "Saw" and you get a slight sense of "Deadgirl's" empty high school wasteland. The two misunderstood loners, Rickie (Shiloh Fernandez) and J.T. (Noah Segan), trade braindead conversations while having moments of moral clarity over their chained sex toy. School jocks are brought into the situation. Then we learn that the deadgirl was probably chained there for a reason since her bites turn anyone into a similar zombie. Highly regarded at last year's Fantastic Fest, "Deadgirl" is most likely a film only appreciated at horror film festivals long after the chimes strike midnight. Watching it on a purely sober level without the ebb and flow of an eager audience, it amounts to very little more than another tepid attempt to cash in on the graphic success of human suffering ala torture porn. It also has the chutzpah to tease us with a sequel in the final frame. While I'll jump at the chance to see "Jennifer's Body" again (and program it for viewings at any upcoming parties or willing friends), the thought of seeing "Deadgirl" in another incarnation is soul-crushing and depressing.

Random Halloween Suggestion

You know, for some reason this is my favorite time of the year. A cold front blew through last night, temps aren't supposed to get past 75 or so for the next few days (with lows in the upper 50's), and the season is clearly changing. That means fall prestige pictures, earlier sun sets and of course, Halloween. Now until then, expect a few random suggestions from me. First up, Lamberto's Bava insanely gory and quite creepy zombie-movie-to-end-all-zombie-movies called "Demons". It's meta-meta (using as its setting a huge movie theater) and so much fun to watch. It'll make any horror movie line-up a blast. Not for the squemish, though. Categorize this one as balls-out fun.

The Great St Louis Bank Robbery

The direct cinematic lineage of Michael Mann and Jean Pierre Melville can be found in one little known film from 1959 called "The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery". Made a few years before Melville created an international splash with films like "Le Doulos" and "Second Breath" and decades before Michael Mann stepped behind a camera, John Stix's "The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery" takes as its main themes some very familiar touchstones of these two varied filmmakers- the consummate career criminal obsessed with detail, the fatal relationship with a woman and brazen masculinity. It's a shame that director John Stix didn't get the chance to accumulate these themes and form the same type of stylistically riveting career as Mann or Melville.


"The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery" is a genuinely fatalistic enterprise. The very opening scene, where four men meet in a cold park, is doomed from the outset as their buried resentments, jealousy and inexperience (in the case of college drop out wheelman Steve McQueen in only his second film role) comes boiling to the surface. Add to the mixture an almost repressed homosexuality in ring leader Egan's eyes (Crahan Denton) as he tries to steer the group away from any outside influences (women namely) and judiciously go over every detail of the robbery and one soon gets the idea that we're watching walking corpses going through the motion. The tension comes in the thought of who will survive, if anyone. In essence, "The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery" is 80 minutes of careful preparation and ten minutes of abrupt violence during the bank robbery. Outside of the bank robbery itself, there are several scenes in "The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery" that feel revelatory for 1959. The long shot on Egan as he monologues about the death of his mother... an especially terse scene with McQueen's ex-girlfriend as the crew find out she may know about the robbery... and the aforementioned final bank robbery in which Stix precisely frames and edits the robbery with calm detail, giving precedence to the shadows that steel bars create on the ground or the tormented God shot as McQueen terrorizes a husband and wife. And, the fact that actual police officers and detectives involved in the real-life incident reprised their roles is even more revealing to the film's search for the authentic.

Stix, a Julliard film teacher and director of numerous Broadway plays, never returned to film after "The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery". Perhaps because he was born in St. Louis and wanted to share some hometown flavor with the movie-going public, his debut film struck lightning in a bottle. I would've loved to see what else he could do with the cinematic medium, and especially with the gray-skied and fedora'd criminals who slink beneath the surface and patiently study until they strike. If "The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery" is any indication of his intelligence, we've all missed some great stuff.

What's In the Netflix Queue #25

Arriving at my door soon (and foreign heavy this time around):

1. It's All About Love- Danish filmmaker Thomas Vinterburg's futuristic tale starring Joaquin Phoenix and Claire Danes. No idea on this one, but it sounds promising.
2. Fuzz- One of the more entertaining nicknames for our good 'ol boys in blue, "Fuzz" stars Burt Reynolds. It reads like pure 70's schlock- Reynolds trying to stop Yul Brenner from blowing up the city- and right up my alley.
3. Maitresse- Barbat Schroeder's early 70's film with Gerard Depardieu. You know, Scroeder has never really been on my radar, but looking over his films, there are lots of interesting titles there. I hope to see more in the future.
4. A Secret- French director Claude Miller's drama about "a boy in post-World War II Paris who stumbles upon a mysterious toy in the attic, exposing his family's secret dark past and how it survived Nazi atrocities."
5. Sukiyaki Western Django- The ever prodigious Takashi Miike's weird sounding western (?) from a couple years ago. I expect insane things.
6. In July- Directed by one of my favorite modern filmmakers, Fatih Akin, I don't know how I missed this film made right before his stunning 2006 film, "Head-On". "In July" promises more of Akin's free-floating, star crossed lover theme as a professor and street vendor cross paths and fall in love.
7. Songs From the Second Floor- I gave this film a shot a few years ago, and couldn't make it through it. Swedish filmmaker Roy Andersson is being lauded in many circles, so I thought maybe the time was right for a revisit.
8. Smiley's People (3 discs)- My appetite for spy films is insatiable, so while searching through endless user lists and recommendations on Netflix, I came upon this early 80's TV series starring Alec Guiness as a spy brought out of retirement to catch a criminal (Patrick Stewart). Based on a John Le Carre novel. If you've seen it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. British mini-series are hit and miss... some dry beyond belief and some terrific.
9. Danton- Andrzej Wadja's 80's epic about the life of two French Revolution fighters and the aftermath. I recently saw Wadja's "Katyn", which proves the old master hasn't lost it (including a stunning final ten minutes) and his 1960 film "Ashes and Diamonds" still reigns as one of my first and most influential introductions to foreign cinema. Plus, its Criterion.
10. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban- Ok, full disclosure. Until a month or so ago, I'd never cared to see any of these films. Then I caught the first one on TV and found it to be immensely entertaining commercial fare. Part Two, with giant spiders and all, proved to be even darker and more mature. I hear this one is even darker. I really need to get over my bias for "children" movies like this and Pixar stuff (which I've only seen the Toy Story movies). I think I may be missing some really good stuff.

60's Reverie

Both in music and on film, there’s something definitely happening here. Between the pop-psychedelic sounds of bands such as Animal Collective (Beach Boys meets Pink Floyd) and the more straight-forward 60’s tinged rock of Edward Sharp and the Magnetic Zeros, Camera Obscura and King Khan, the 60’s are in full swing and littering our modern cultural landscape. Two recent films, “Taking Woodstock” and “Inglourious Basterds”, also recall the swinging 60’s in tone and tongue-in-cheek ‘hipness‘. I guess the 70’s retro hangover is finished and we’ve all gone hurtling back to peace and love. Or did all of this begin in the late 90’s when tie-dye and the peace symbol made a roaring comeback?

Of the two films mentioned, Ang Lee’s “Taking Woodstock” is the direct link to the 1960’s. Tackling the mammoth cultural event that was Woodstock in 1969, Lee’s film starts out large and scatter shot, then gently narrows it focus on the nuclear family and the generational gap that divides young Elliot (Demetri Martin) and his Jewish-immigrant parents played by (an over-the-top) Imelda Staunton and Henry Goodman. At times kitschy and wholly unbelievable, Elliot is little more than a cypher of his times. Due to the placement of his parent’s dilapidated motel in upstate New York and his own role as the head of the Chamber of Commerce, he is the catalyst for a group of hippies being displaced in town after town to put together their live concert. Motivated partly out of economic hardships and mostly out of Elliot’s own discomfort with his sexuality, Woodstock is finally given a home just two miles from him. History is condensed and tweaked- for example in one short walk to the festival, Elliot (and the audience) are given visuals of a guy holding up a sign that says “Please show up Bon Dylan”, the three nuns who flash a peace symbol for a camera, and a cop with a flower placed gently into the visor of his helmet. All the iconic images of three days of peace and music are given lip service in a 90 second single take. All that’s left is for Elliot to walk by the young couple wrapped up in a blue blanket. Regardless of Lee and screenwriter James Schamus’ commercialised ploy to wrap everything into a tidy, uncomplicated bow, “Taking Woodstock” does work as a film though.


As the film’s focus shifts away from Woodstock to the odd coming of age of Elliot, it elicits some honest emotion, especially in one scene between Martin and his father. Liev Schreiber, in a role as a sort of transvestite guardian angel, adds immense generosity in a role that could have easily been played for straight laughs throughout. Even though “Taking Woodstock” wants to be a modern time capsule for the late 60’s (which, honestly, the original “Woodstock” documentary already encapsulates) it should mostly be remembered as yet another strong Ang Lee character piece about a young man struggling with his own identity.

Less successful in its attempts to mar the genres, sounds and sensibilities of the 1960's is another hollow pastiche by Quentin Tarantino. Yes, even though the film does take place during World War 2, the film’s magnificent opening (which it never quite recovers from) distinctly places us in the world of Sergio Leone and his spaghetti westerns. And the finale (the second strongest portion of the movie) plays out like a fevered exploitation film that would feel right at home in the canon of Jesus Franco. It’s just everything else in the middle that wears out its welcome. Tarantino is obviously in love with the written word, but as in “Deathproof”, it’s his bloated screenplay that sucks the life away from any cinematic momentum in “Inglourious Basterds”. In his vain attempts to transpose the exploitative aspects of 60’s cinema (scribbled, crashing opening titles and vintage Universal logo) there’s no real zap of originality. I have no doubt that Tarantino has something truly unique in him, and when he creates that film- a film completely free of the pseudo homage and lip service to every worn out/wacko VHS movie he watched back in that Los Angeles video store- then it’ll really be a trailblazer. But, until then, “Inglourious Basterds” will remain a hazy throwback to the 60’s that marginally entertains.

Top 5 List: Great Film Scores Post '90

5. Public Enemies (2009 dir. Michael Mann/Elliot Rosenthal composer)

Sure, this was released just a few months ago, but the soundtrack has already become a staple spin on my Ipod. Mann has always had a great predilection for sweeping, epic music with a bit of electronica thrown in by Moby or Mogwai for good measure... and with "Public Enemies", he turs the spotlight back onto his regular composer, Elliot Rosenthal who churns out a terrific score.




4. 25th Hour (2002 dir. Spike Lee/composer Terence Blanchard)

Another film that benefits from a lasting relationship between director and composer, Blanchard continually brings something moving and fresh to every Lee film. Working from a very emotional place, Blanchard manages to create a genuinely moving companion to the film's story without sounding maudlin or manipulative.





3. Wonderland (1999, dir. Michael Winterbottom/Michael Nyman composer)

The next two slots belong to the same composer- Brit Michael Nyman- who, for a while, seemed to have his hand in just about everything. From his eclectic scores to many Peter Greenaway films to his more commercial vehicles (such as "The Piano") in the 90's, Nyman is a real adventurer. Alot of his pieces sound similiar and there's a striking avant garde experimentation that's downright exciting. In his collaborations with Michael Winterbottom, Nyman strikes an especially resounding chord in "Wonderland", shaping theme music for each charatcer in this merry-go-round group as they deal with life, love and family.




2. Gattaca (1997, dir. Andrew Niccol/Michael Nyman composer)

Seeing "Gattaca" in a sparsely attended theater in late '96 after reading the rave reviewed applied by critic Andrew Sarris, I felt I was in the presence of young greatness. Well, director Andrew Niccol hasn't lived up to those lofty expectations, but Nyman's soundtrack does. Elegant, mournful and perfect for the pristine environment of the movie, it also elevates the emotions as Ethan Hawke finally lifts off from Earth.




1. Requiem For a Dream (2000, dir. Darren Aronofsky/Clint Mansell and the Kronos Quartet)

Long before this piece of music became the spliced together sound for every trailer or forthcoming movie clip, it was a heartbreaking wall of music- simple, refined, then suddenly violent. I could listen to it over and over.... if only it didn't depress me so much. Still, any piece of music that can instill that much power has gotta be doing something right.

Why Being A Cinephile (and blogger) Matters

Piper over at Lazy Eye Theatre recently tagged me for one of these crazy memes going around. The question, initially posed at Cinema Styles is why does being a cinephile matter? Not a Democrat, or Republican, or liberal... but the only thing that really seems to give me calm these days- a lover of movies. A few things I've learned in the past 3 years since starting this humble little word space:

1. My love for movies like "Laws of Gravity" or "Wonderland" continues to grow each and every time I recommend it to someone on a blog.

2. The world is a supremely connected place. I've communicated with friends far and wide.... been given previously unavailable movies out of the goodness of a cinephile's own heart.... and discovered a few titles here and there. Conversely, my Netflix queue will probably never get below 200.

3. I love the Pandora's box that opens up through blogs. One site leads to another... and another that invests its time only in obscure 70's VHS box covers... and another dedicated solely to reviewing spy films.... and yet another that features an interview with some obscure 60's character actor. The universe is endless with possibilities.

4. Sometimes, a blogger says (and means) more in 100 words than any film critic with 2000 words can muster.

5. And, most importantly, its just nice to connect with so many people on a basic level of shared enthusiasm and divergent viewpoints. Whether the blogs go the way of the old newsboards or not, I don't know. But for right now, they're here and they matter to me.

70's Bonanza: The Molly Maguires

From the film's opening ten minutes, I knew I was in for a very under appreciated treat with director Martin Ritt's "The Molly Maguires". The place is Pennsylvania and the time is 1874 when coal mining was the chief employment of the hordes of immigrants who landed on the East Coast and ventured into the more melancholy parts of the country. Aided by James Wong Howe's evocative, textured cinematography, Ritt initiates his film with slow, contemplative zooms as it follows a coal haul out of the mine and up its wooden tracks. A wordless eight minutes pass as the camera finds a group of men diligently working in the shafts below until a whistle blows. Four of the men (including leader of the pack Sean Connery) quickly break apart and set dynamite blocks around the mine before they light the fuse. They then casually wait for their cart ride out of the mine and slowly proceed down a muddy dirt road as Howe's camera faithfully glides in front, leading the way. By this time, the nerves are frazzled at the film's deliberate pace when we know explosions will pierce the air at any moment. It's a great opening that exemplifies the film's patience and devious ambiguity about the Molly Maguire's terrorist attempts borne out of downtrodden treatment.

The "devious ambiguity" mentioned above comes in the form of Pennsylvania detective James McParlan (a steely eyed Richard Burton) who goes undercover in the mines to infiltrate the Molly Maguires. Complicating matters is his own Irish pride. McParlan himself understands the tremendous invisibility of his people in this new land and in some small, unwritten ways, director Ritt and screenwriter Walter Bernstein create a tenuous relationship between McParlan and Jack Kehoe (Connery) as two sides to the same person.. a person that long ago took divergent steps in life but could easily morph into the other's life at any given moment. Two confidently, fleshed out performances, Connery and Burton have never been better. And the scene between them in the end registers with truth and complexity.


Like many films released in the early 70's, there's a residual 60's hangover- a feeling of (sometimes) safe studio production values and status quo stuffiness. Released in 1970, "The Molly Maguires" has a definitively gritty 70's feel. From its greasy, earthy tones (which must have certainly influenced P.T. Anderson for his modern epic "There Will Be Blood") to its warm, candle-lit interiors, there's nothing stuffy about it. The anger seems real. The careful relationship that forms between Burton and landlord Samantha Egger hovers realistically throughout the film. The unease that percolates amongst the Molly Maguires and their eventual acceptance of McParlan ranks with the best of the "undercover cop" themes. It's a well formed, evocative movie that hits every intended mark. My only question- why doesn't this thing get more attention? It certainly deserves it.

Produced and Abandoned #3

A few more titles that deserve to see the light of day on region 1 DVD:

1. The Shout (1978)- Available on a region 2 Spanish edition, Jerry Skolimowski's late 70's film sounds eerily impressive: "A madman eccentric convinces a married couple that he can kill by shouting". Skolimowski has scored recently with his latest film, "Four Nights With Anna" on the festival circuit, so maybe some of his older releases will receive some love.
2. Chaotic Ana (2006)- I've heard pretty terrible things about this film, but I absolutely love the work of Spanish director Julio Medem and I'd love to evaluate this work for itself. A few festival screenings have popped up here and there, but other than that, "Chaotic Ana" is MIA.
3. JeTaime, JeTaime (1974)- For me Alain Resnais is hit or miss (deceptive and intriguing with his early stuff, insufferable and smothering with his later ones), yet this mid 70's time travel tale sounds very promising. I'd love to hear thoughts if anyone's seen it.
4. The Landlord (1970)- Hal Ashby has always been an intelligent, low-key director (much like Bob Rafelson) and "The Landlord" is his debut film starring Beau Bridges as a rich kid who buys a house and ends up squabbling with his urban neighbors. Everything I've read about it calls it a smart social comedy.
5. L.627 (1994)- Bertrand Tavernier's police procedural is an outright masterpiece... a film that alternates between the rush of adrenaline involved with police work and the banal idleness spent typing up reports and tracking down snitches. The final shot is an amazing one. With so much of Tavernier's work available on video, this one is a head-scratcher.
6. Sleeping Car Murders (1965)- I really should go back and give "Z" another viewing. This is director Costa-Gavras' debut film and it stars Simone Signoret and Yves Montand as a couple investigating the murder of a girl on an overnight passenger train.
7. Outcast (1962)- I've only seen two Kon Ichikawa films, but they were both searing and powerful works from a Japanese filmmaker who seems to often get overlooked.
8. The Emigrants (1971)- After recently seeing "Everlasting Moments", I'd be very happy if I could see more of Jan Troell's work. Both this film and the sequel, "The New Land" document the settlement of Swedish emigrants in Minnesota. Every description calls them sweeping and epic.
9. The Goalie's Anxiety At the Penalty Kick (1971)- Wim Wenders' debut film. I rented this on VHS years ago and started watching it, but ran out of time before it had to be returned (remember those days?!). When I finally went back for it months later, the tape had been eaten in the machine by another renter. It's one of the very few Wenders' films I've yet to see.
10. Day the Sun Turned Cold (1996)- One of my favorite films from 1996. Directed by little known filmmaker Ho Yim, it's an emotional ride of a young man who burrows into the secrets of his past. Great cinematography and low-key acting make this a must-see. Too bad it's been thirteen years since I've last seen it in an empty theater.

3

The Cove

Louie Psihoyos' documentary "The Cove" is certainly a bleeding heart agitprop project... but it works and works magnificently. Expounding on the long-standing practice of Japanese dolphin slaughter on a little island known as Taijie, it often takes alot to move me and "The Cove" does it several times. Like a precise thriller or slow-screw-turning horror movie, Psihoyos and his team of animal activists give us tidbits of information- first charming nuggets about the level of intelligence within dolphins and the resurgence of the mammals' popularity after "Flipper" debuted in the 1960's- and then peels back the curtain to reveal a gripping espionage tale as the group attempts to document and record what is really happening in a two acre body of water just out of sight off the island. And when the images do come (something the film builds towards with thunderous propensity), it's a completely unnerving experience that I wasn't prepared for. And while those images and sounds will stay with you for days, the real heart breaker of the story lies in the main examination of Rick O'Barry- the perfect hero if there ever was one. As the dolphin trainer and head "capturer" of the dolphins for the Flipper show, he now dedicates his life to freeing the mammals around the world. The guilt of seeing his dolphins die in captivity strain his face and resonate in his voice. If nothing else, "The Cove" is a tremendous and moving confessional.

In the Loop

It may seem tough to create a roaring comedy about the various digressions and complicated bureaucracies of the policy-making bodies of the English and American government, but director Armando Ianucci's "In the Loop" does just that. I love this type of comedy- fast and furious scripted dialogue that flies at the viewer from all angles and causes one to acutely listen for the joke. As it is, we get brilliant little jokes such as:

"Go and talk to the senator's aid... the boy from The Shining... and see what you can get out of him".

"No."

"C'mon... it'll be easy peasy lemon squeezie."

No, it will be difficult, difficult lemon difficult."

There's not a false note in the ensemble cast.


District 9

Seamless, exceptionally creative CGI creatures aside, if there's no heart within the living characters in a certain film, then it fails. And that's exactly the case with Neill Blomkamp's "District 9", a film that cribs so much from previous sci-fi ventures that it feels like a television pilot retread. And when its not counting the odes to yonder days, it features a main character that's beyond sympathy or empathy. "District 9" does reach a few highs, but its message is glib.

On How A Four Star Review Changed My Mind

I suppose it's either the death rattle death of newspapers or a weary reaction to the dog days of summer, but professional film critics are going for the jugular lately. First, there was Jeffrey Wells and his angry post about the slow decline of Kathryn Bigelow's "The Hurt Locker" when it comes to selling tickets to the younger film-going demographic. Glenn Kenny and Drew McWeeney then jumped into the fray. Then most recently, Roger Ebert jumped into the ring against film critic Armond White when he trashed (and apparently pissed on) the new fan-boy favorite, "District 9".

On the first point, I saw "The Hurt Locker" over a month ago and didn't utter a peep about it because I seem to be the only one on the planet (besides White of course) who feels it isn't a masterpiece. Solid, yes. Three stars, yes. But it meanders in the end a bit much and does revel in some awfully pedestrian cliches at times. Still, after so many quality films die a quiet death at the box office or find life on home video or in repertory screenings, why is "The Hurt Locker" now the branding iron for such a strong push of the under appreciated? Secondly, on the Ebert/White fracas, let me first say I'm no fan of White. Ever since film criticism from outside my limited scope was made available on the web in the mid 90's, I gravitated towards the New York and Chicago critics- Sarris, Hoberman, Taubin, Rosenbaum and Wilmington. There was something electric about their writings- and certainly the fact that they were pontificating on so many films I wouldn't see for years played into my appreciation. I soon stumbled upon the alternative New York paper, the New York press. While Matt Zoller Seitz quickly became a favorite (and still thrives today), I also discovered Armond White and found him shitting on so many films I liked. A train wreck relationship formed. I despised his reviews, but couldn't stop reading them. A humorous side note: a fellow online buddy who I used to communicate with regularly in New York e-mailed me one day with the lines "I just shared an elevator with your favorite critic." My reply- "Did you kick him in the shins?" The Ebert/White duel has been entertaining, to say the least. And, it will probably get me to the theater to see just what all the fuss is about. I'm sure the production company is grateful for the critical misunderstanding.

All of this to say that, yes, even though "print" is dying, the blogs and twitter and technology (the invisible print, I suppose) still reign supreme and are continuing to evolve and expand a film's reputation through the now omniscient viral means. Sometimes, this is good. I do take a critic's words into consideration- a perfect example being that I'm still very tempted by the slow murmur of positive buzz for David Twohy's "A Perfect Getaway". And, it certainly happened earlier this year when Ebert wrote a virtually singular praise for Alex Proyas' "Knowing", and then followed it up a few days later with an even deeper analysis of the film's conceits on his blog. I read both of them with a "wtf" kind of feeling. I know Ebert loves his sci-fi tales (look no further than his unabashed love for "Dark City"), but this was "Knowing" starring (gasp) Nicholas Cage and released in late February with very little traction. All of this came back as I held the movie in my hand and decided to give it a shot. Admittedly, it's not quite a four star movie, but pretty damn close.... a film full of scary ideas done with just the right touch of humanity to make the characters somebody you root for and with one helluva nice (uncompromising) ending that certainly made the test audiences squirm in their seats.


Apocalypse movies rarely feature this many strong ideas. The room for large scale disaster is firmly intact (especially in one outstanding set-piece that follows Cage through a fresh plane crash with one long unbroken steadicam shot), but its the collision of philosophical gestures and human sacrifice that really make "Knowing" a cut above the rest. Proyas' predilection for dark, shadowy figures do turn up here with an increasingly creepy frequency. Add a dash of mysticism and some 'un-blockbusterly' third act surprises, and one gets a very satisfying movie that I might have overlooked if it weren't for the fearless critique by Roger Ebert. I suppose Armond White has the same effect for someone else when they decide to rent "Death Race". I'll still read all the above mentioned critics... I'll just pay much closer attention to some.

70's Bonanza: The Outfit

Through the very generous donations of several readers of this blog from around the country, I've been able to finally glimpse some of the movies featured in my recent Produced and Abandoned posts. That's been part of the initially unimaginable fun of doing this type of thing... the community and camaraderie that has developed from it. I thank everyone for this. And it's exactly this same generosity that offered me the chance to finally see John Flynn's hard-nosed 1973 film, "The Outfit"- a film that coincidentally is being shown on the big screen for the first time in ages. Is a DVD release in the works?



Based on a novel by great crime writer Donald Westlake, "The Outfit" can easily be read as yet another grimy variation on the loner anti-hero... a man so enraged or hell-bent on a single minded quest that the whole film turns into a systematic deconstruction of the underworld. In "Point Blank", it was Lee Marvin. There was Mel Gibson in "Payback". And in "The Outfit" it's Robert Duvall. After the almost wordless execution killing of his brother in the opening few minutes, Earl (Duvall) is released from prison and quickly hooks up with old girlfriend Bett (Karen Black). There begins a road trip across the vacant Midwest plains as Earl finds old chum Cody (Joe Don Baker) and the pair begin to exact their revenge on the mob system that purportedly killed his brother. Their targets, though, are not deadly, but striking the Syndicate (a favorite term from Westlake that seems to imply an expansive network of evil) where it really hurts- their wallets. Before long, director Flynn dashes all hopes that "The Outfit" will be an in-depth character study of these particular good-bad guys. As the pair knocks off backroom money laundering spot after another, "The Outfit" morphs into an unrelenting document of non-descript offices that Earl and Cody hold-up. The point- which comes through as loudly as Fritz Lang's German films- is that evil is pervasive and secretly turning the wheels of every office building across the country. Yet it's done with such quiet calculation and memorably mean faces (Timothy Carey especially) that "The Outfit" succeeds by doing very little. And I haven't even mentioned the especially gruff performance by Robert Ryan as the mob boss who sees the pair turn his mansion upside down in a Tony Montana-like finale. Finally seeing "The Outfit" was worth the wait.

It Pains Me To Say It....

... but Judd Apatow's "Funny People" is a mis-fire from a director that I've grown to appreciate over the last few years. Over-long, over-wrought and completely devoid of the substantial honesty built between the characters in "Knocked Up", "Funny People" feels like a decent movie stretched to ponderous proportions. I've read alot lately about how this is the film where Apatow grows up, and I say that was "Knocked Up". The quotient of dick and fart jokes is still relatively high, but there was something quite moving about the car ride between Heigel and Rogen as they drive into an adult world where nothing will be the same. There was great humanity in the way Leslie Mann spouts out how old she feels after being denied entrance to a night club- and yes Mann is good here with my crush firmly intact, but the relationship between her and Adam Sandler doesn't reach the harmonious connection it strives for. And, where the interaction between Rogen, Hill and Segal appeared as lively and familiar banter between old friends, the Rogen, Hill, Schwartman combo feels mean and vapid in "Funny People".


Perhaps it's my strong aversion to Sandler when he attempts to tackle a "serious" role ("Punch Drunk Love" exempt since it's so bat-shit crazy), but I didn't feel anything for his George Simmons. The endless parade of self-indulgent cameos didn't help either. I'll stop now. Here's hoping Apatow bounces back and reigns in his excesses for the next comedy.

DVD Shout Out: The Education of Charlie Banks

Most of the energy surrounding "The Education of Charlie Banks" will be focused on the fact that it's directed by Fred Durst. Yes, that Fred Durst- the singer of Limp Bizkit fame who once echoed immortal and sage lines such as "I did it all for the nookie, so you can take that cookie, and stick it up your ass." Regardless of that, "The Education of Charlie Banks" is still a very good movie about class differences while managing to heighten and draw out the subtle tension between Charlie (Jesse Eisenberg) and old school bully/friend Mick (Jason Ritter, son of John).


The story- one that could have stumbled into cliche territory yet remains fresh and original- begins sometime in the 1970's in Greenwich village as the aforementioned Charlie meets bad-boy Mick. Soon after seeing Mick beat a fellow student within an inch of his life, the bookish and morally upright Charlie tells the cops on Mick. He soon after recants his admission. While at college several years later, Mick shows up and slowly insinuates himself back into Charlie's life, taking up with the girl he likes and generally upending Charlie's literate and wealthy circle of friends. The pressing question (and one that writer Peter Elkoff and director Durst expand to terrifying lengths during Mick's re-occurrence at the Ivy League school) is whether Mick is aware of Charlie's "rat" status or not. Still, the impending collision between Charlie and Mick is handled with confidence, allowing "The Education of Charlie Banks" to work itself out as a low key character study.



As Charlie, Eisenberg is quickly becoming typecast as the 'new nebbish'. He does seem tailor made for the role ever since "The Squid and the Whale", but its Jason Ritter who really lifts the film. Full of charisma and taking some scenes into completely unexpected territory, he has massive potential. As for Durst the filmmaker, I suppose it would be unfair to say he does nothing to screw up the proceedings. Simply shot and cleanly edited, there are a few recognizable moments of talent behind the camera.... one of them being a slow zoom into the outside of a library as Charlie runs inside, looking for the girl he has a crush on as the camera stays outside, continuing its slow zoom until he re-emerges and runs off screen. Not only is it a visual flourish that's unique, but it preserves the sense of desperate longing surely felt by Banks. Overall, "The Education of Charlie Banks" is a great surprise.

One Minute Greatness

Over the past few weeks, I've been entranced by these Levi Jeans commercials being shown at my local Cinemark theaters. I know that commercials have long been a breeding ground for popular filmmakers (Fincher, Gondry, Jonze and even Scorsese back in the day), and these spots tend to prove that rule. Directed by Cary Fukunaga, whose "Sin Nombre" is still floating around in art house theaters and has now become a must-see for me, these ads are breathtaking in the way they combine otherwordly images and spoken word. Spot 1, titled "America" is the best of the two, but both ads are real knockouts.

Spot #1


Spot #2


Here's hoping Fukunaga can carry forward the cinematic intensity of these commercials and make good in Hollywood.

And, as we all know, another corporation named Nike has been redefining the syntax of television advertising for so many years now, here's a few of my favorites:

Resistance Is Futile

Ole Christian Madsen's "Flame and Citron" is a brooding trenchcoat and fedora'd examination of the blurry lines between right and wrong, guilt and innocence... and an especially powerful psychological case study of the tensions that engulfed whole countries during the German occupation of World War 2. Starring Mads Mikkelson and Thure Lindhardt as the aforementioned Flame and Citron (code names applied by the underground resistance group they take their orders from), Madsen's film wedges itself satisfactorily between Melville's "Army of Shadows" and Verhoeven's "Black Book", two of the most invigorating and intelligent films whose primary goal was to highlight the cloak and dagger escapades of the various Resistance groups during the great war- albeit with markedly different effects based on the time they were produced. Verhoeven is certainly aiming for a bit more entertainment value while Melville's 1969 work is a rigorous experiment in quiet deception and suffocating doom. Finding the right mixture between these extremes, "Flame and Citron" is an exciting and ultimately moving treatise on these two uniquely dedicated- and historically accurate- Danish assassins.


Initially throwing the viewer into an indiscernible chain of events where Flame and Citron are nonchalantly knocking on doors and exterminating people, focus and motivation soon eclipse their seemingly random acts. Outside of their clinically precise assassinations, back story and development gradually gives purpose to both men. Citron (Mikkelsen) has a family, but his honor and sense of duty has slowly eroded that relationship. Flame (Lindhardt), the more three dimensional of the pair, is given contextual and deep seated hatred for his actions against the encroaching German army and SS squad. Yet the film's real crowning achievement (besides its expertly staged action sequences and sense of forbodement) is the dangerous ways it maps out the various deceptions, betrayals and triple crosses. What's a good Resistance film without the idea of any single person being the one who rats on someone else? In "Flame and Citron", the walls slowly begin to collapse on the devoted duo when the directions of their superiors begins to look like personal retribution rather than straightforward homeland security. As the tensions rise, Mikkelsen and Lindhardt do an excellent job of etching the fear on their face. We want these guys to survive, but history- and the reptilian nature of the underground movement- are certainly running against them.

The most lasting effect of "Flame and Citron" is not in the action itself, but in the closing moments. Like the best films based on actual events, "Flame and Citron" provides us with text that deepens and extends the supposed fictional image into reality. For some reason, the end notes on Ketty (Stine Stengade), the love interest of Flame, and the belated recognition bestowed upon Flame and Citron by the U.S. government, resonate more poignantly than in other films of this nature. Also, the use of a voice-over motif that doesn't come into clarity until the final few minutes strikes a deep echo about the way we process and remember harrowing events. In a film that mostly concerns itself with instantaneous satisfaction through bloodletting, "Flame and Citron" is ultimately a moving examination of the life long battle scars that firmly attach themselves with no relief in sight.

Art House Round Up

Moon

Duncan Jones' "Moon" belongs in that category of heady independent science fiction films (both versions of "Solaris", "Sunshine") that emphasizes ideas above all else. Tastefully rendered in minimal camera selections (no hand-held, composed medium shots, efficient editing), "Moon" features a great performance from Sam Rockwell as an astronaut working on the moon for the Lunar corporation... a company that's developed energy from harnessing sunlight on the far side of the moon. As his 3 year contract comes to a close, his mind begins to slip. Needless to say, writer/director Jones keeps everything controlled tightly. There are no pseudo alien things at play here. In fact, part of the film's magnificent charm is its ability to keep the tension intact after the 'big reveal' in the first 30 minutes. More and more interesting ideas begin to tumble like dominoes. All in all, "Moon" is a surprisingly effective debut from a filmmaker with loads of potential.


Summer Hours

My affinity for Olivier Assayas notwithstanding, "Summer Hours" would be a terrific film without his presence since its ensemble acting is gentle and pitch perfect. Situated somewhere between domestic French talkie and a cunning delineation of the conflicts between three generations of one family, Assayas had jettisoned the herky-jerky kinetic ism of his previous films and slowed things down with careful tracking shots and sublime editing (which, even in his frenetic work, was always calculated). After the mother in a large, artistically inclined family dies, the burden of her estate falls on her three children, played by Charles Berlinger, Juliette Binoche and Jeremie Rennier. Juggling their own modern lives while wading into the antiquated waters of their families past, "Summer Hours" is a great companion piece to Assayas' "Late August, Early September"... both are films that explicitly and immediately cause one to care for these characters and the subtle decisions they make. Just watch the community that flows through one scene when Binoche confesses her impending marriage or the final moments where granddaughter Sylvie (Alice Lencquesaing) ruminates on the days spent playing around her grandmother's house. And even though Assayas infuses every frame with longing and mortality, "Summer Hours" is far from a brooding or unpleasant experience. It perfectly seems to capture that awe-inspiring feeling that we all face- dealing with the past and smiling at the future we've built for ourselves through our current family and friends.

The Mr. Bernstein Meme

In a weird attempt to meld sociology, memory and cinematic pleasures, I've decided to start this meme based on a great post by Jeffrey Wells at his essential blog Hollywood Elsewhere. Remember that great monologue in Citizen Kane by actor Everett Sloan?

"You take me. One day back in 1896 I was crossing over to Jersey on the ferry, and as we pulled out there was another ferry pulling in, and on it was a girl waiting to get off. A white dress she had on. She was carrying a white parasol. I only saw her for one second. She didn't see me at all. But I'll bet a month hasn't gone by since that I haven't thought of that girl."

I do have a similar story that I'll share later in this post, and I ask all of you to join me. The rules:

1. Your memory can be anything that lingers with you today. First love. Cathartic experience in a movie theater. Close encounters with death, chance, fate or luck. There are no limits. Delve deep! Just please be honest about them.
2. Video clips, pictures.. whatever.. again.... delve deep.
3. Choose five bloggers to tag and spread the wealth.
4. Link back to this blog.


The five I'd most like to hear from:

1. Bob at Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
2. Sam at The Listening Ear
3. Piper at Lazy Eye Theatre
4. Chris at his blog
5. Caitlin at 1416 and Counting

My memory:

In March of 2002, a buddy and I road tripped from Dallas to skiing in New Mexico. On a whim, we decided to drive onto Vegas. We took the scenic route in, stopping at the Hoover Dam. It was early in the morning and cold outside, so not many people were lingering around. I was looking over the railing, kinda lost in thought, when I heard someone next to me. I looked up and about 10 feet away was a Middle Eastern girl standing looking over the rail as well, wearing the full traditional Islamic dress and a veil wrapped just around her neck with her face exposed. Remember, this is March 2002. She looked over at me and, my god, this girl was beautiful. The take your breath away kinda natural beauty.... searing green eyes... 19 or 20 years old. She looked down for a second as if she was afraid of what my glance meant. Then she looked back up and saw the (probably) ga-ga look in my eyes (and not the prevalent scowl she probably always received) and smiled at me. I don't even remember what gesture I returned. I just remember being bowled over by her beauty. Then, she turned, went back to her family, hopped in a car and drove off. Honestly, if I'd said something to her... anything at all... it probably would not have amounted to much more than passer-by friendliness, but to this day I wonder about it. I wonder where she is. I know exactly how Mr. Bernstein feels.

In Memoriam

I tend to steer away from these types of things since so many others fill the void, but as a student of journalism, I owe Mr. Cronkite this small tribute on here.

Regional Review: The Whole Shootin' Match

The story of Eagle Pennell is a truly tragic one, yet we can always find beauty and redemption in the archived work of a filmmaker (justly) coming to light. After IFC snuck Pennell's 1984 film "Last Night At the Alamo" into their lackluster rotation a few months back, I feel privileged to have seen two Eagle films now. His second film, "The Whole Shootin Match", released in 1978, has been credited as the film that encouraged Robert Redford to launch the Sundance Film Festival. And I can't imagine a better film to watch on a hot July Texas night when it's still 95 degrees at 11pm.


Like most of his characters, Lloyd (Lou Perryman) and Frank (Sonny Carl Davis) are decent southern boys constantly trying to carve a niche for themselves amongst their nights of chasing women and drinking. In "The Whole Shootin' Match", Lloyd and Sonny fare much better than the layabouts in "Last Night At the Alamo", though to be fair, that film is strictly about one night in the life of a closing Houston bar and its denizens. Lloyd is an especially inventive guy, continually creating things out of PVC pipe and metal in his backyard. Yet in his customary fatalistic world-view, Pennell chooses to end this stroke of good luck as a corporate fast-one. The good 'ol boys are taken for a ride and lose out on their patent for a mop by a shady downtown Austin businessman who blinds the guys with a wad of quick cash- cash that Sonny quickly wastes on a suit and convertible. While a small part of the film documents the duo's brave attempts to scratch out a living on the fringes of society, the real gist of the film is their lazy interaction with each other and the women in Sonny's life. While this aspect of the film is highly entertaining and Pennell scribbles out some intently hilarious conversations between these two slow-drawl guys, "The Whole Shootin' Match" is (to me) a much more valuable commodity for its anthropological take on Texas in the mid 70's.

Filmed in and around Austin, Pennell frames a bit of his film in the concrete jungle of downtown Austin (as the previously mentioned scene where the guys sell their idea and get taken) but the majority of its setting is the hinterlands of south central Texas. Largely anonymous dirt roads, backyards and darkened highways, Pennell does evoke a serene beauty during the film's final images of the guys wandering in the clustered hills west of Austin. The clash between good 'ol boy nature and hippie central (Austin, well noted, is known as the most liberal city in Texas) is touched on as well during a scene where the guys attempt to kickstart a new polyuerthane business on a unique house in the Austin hills. Whether he means to or not, Pennell conveys alot about the clash of personalities in his films. More sure of himself in the hazy interactions between drinking buddies than fully realized relationships, "The Whole Shootin Match" does give ample screentime to Sonny's wife (a wonderful Doris Hargrave) and her slow attraction to Sonny's cousin (Eric Henshaw) in scenes that come off funny and real. The act of giving a bicycle to Sonny's young son squeezes alot of mileage out of its simple plot point. Pennell condenses alot of personality in conversations and "The Whole Shootin' Match" is a film full of them.


A poignant footnote to my viewing of "The Whole Shootin' Match" was certainly overshadowed by the news of actor Lou Perryman's death just a month or so after this film's DVD release and the virtual excitement being stirred by Pennell's maverick filmmaker status. Watching the scenes towards the end of "The Whole Shootin Match" as Lloyd and Frank dutifully search for lost gold in the hills, yet another unfulfilled get-rich-quick scheme in their never-resting-minds, I kept coming back to the image above as Lou rests on the downslope of a hill with a large tree blotting out the sky behind him. If ever there was a more glorious image of a man at peace with nature, this is it. Again, whether he meant to or not, Pennell and alter-ego Lou Perryman delve into the beauty of the Texas lanscape with a singular feeling for what makes this great state so breathtaking at times.

What's In the Netflix Queue #24

It's been a while since I've given your inquiring minds a look at my queue. Here we go:

1. Mad Dog Morgan- 70's Dennis Hopper film that doesn't sound too distinctive. MGM HD channel played this last month and I missed it. Hopper stars in a plot described as such: "ruthless bounty hunter scour Australia's harsh outback for infamous outlaw Mad Dog Morgan (Dennis Hopper) in this thriller based on the life of the Irishman who immigrated during the 1800s gold rush. Morgan is caught for stealing horses and endures years of torture behind bars. He continues his outlaw ways after his release, and soon he's wanted … dead or alive." Early 70's coked-up Hopper in a western? I'm there.
2. The Whistle Blower- Found this one while scouring that lovable feature in Netflix where members can create lists. Starring Michael Caine, it involves spy stuff and skulduggery. Made in the late 80's, this very well may be a made-for-TV movie, but Caine rarely disappoints. Plus, it's spy stuff!
3. Liliom- On going look at every Fritz Lang film I can. There'll be a humongous post in the future as I track down every available film.
4. F.I.S.T.- Sylvester Stallone as a labor leader? Sounds like gritty 70's fun.
5. Manhunter- With all my gushing over Michael Mann's latest, I decided to go back and re-watch this one. I've only seen this twice for some reason. I vividly remember a scene in a darkened kitchen with Tom Noonan. I look forward to re-discovering this one.
6. Before I Forget- Jacque Nolot writes, stars and directs in this French film from 2008 that has more than its share of supporters.
7. Dov'e le Liberte?- I don't know when they were released on DVD, but two of Roberto Rosselini's later pictures popped up as a recommendation recently. "Escape By Night" was a terrific film about three escaped POW's seeking refuge in an Italian town. "Dov'e le Liberte": "After serving a two-decade sentence for murdering his wife's lover, barber Salvatore (Totò) gets out of prison early for good behavior. But he soon finds that the outside world has changed so much that prison starts to look appealing by comparison. Before long, Salvatore starts hatching a plan to bust back into the slammer in this humor-filled dramatic gem from Italian master director Roberto Rossellini." A definite must see.
8. Torn Curtain- Hitchcock. Newman. Spy stuff. Say no more.
9. Cypher- Whatever happened to director Vincent Natali? After the smash cult success of "Cube"in 1998, he sorta fell off the map. IMDB shows several projects in development, though. This one, from 2005, stars Jeremy Northam involved in some sci-fi corporate espionage.
10. Stranded- Documentary about the Uruguayan rugby team who crash landed in the Andes and resorted to some, um, awful things to stay alive.

Few Thoughts On "Public Enemies"

Emerged from the theater shaken and invigorated from the latest display of machoism from one of the finest directors working today. From start to finish, this thing is a masterpiece. Just when I'd start to settle down in my seat, the subtle tension of its cat and mouse game would be punctuated by swift, abrasive pounds of machine gunfire and beautifully choreographed set-pieces. The connection created between Depp and Coltillard is heartfelt and poignant... and that final scene between her and Winstead (Stephen Lang) is pitch-perfect. And, I haven't seen a film this good looking since... well "Miami Vice". This is a film that deserves to be seen through a digital projector. The images are so crisp, certain moments were awe-inspiring. The gold statues in the background of one bank.... the texture on the wall when Cotillard talks on the phone with Depp.... the warm interior hues of gold and green. Simply stunning. I'll stop now. I don't know if I'll see a better film this year.