Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Faves of 2017

20. The Great Wall


I have a weakness for the late period Zhang Yimou films derided by most everyone else. While lukewarm on "Coming Home", I found his 2012 Christian Bale-missionary-stuck-in-war-torn-China "Flowers of War" an especially immersive and moving marvel. The same can be said for his latest project, "The Great Wall", again starring a Hollywood star (Matt Damon) who manages to save most of China. This time it's not marauding Japanese soldiers, but marauding creatures that bellow out from underneath a magical mountain every 60 years and do battle with humans. Yes, its preposterous, but its also an extravagant and visually stunning effort that features an unending number of imaginative moments calculated to shock and awe. Yimou's roving camera, his mise-en-scene within heavily crafted CGI backdrops and his fetishistic use of color are magnetic technical attributes that save the film from being yet another internationally produced Game of Thrones knock-off hoping to recoup its assets overseas... and then score whatever bonus it can with American audiences. It's spectacle, but its a glorious one.


19. The Glass Castle 


Destin Daniel Cretton's "The Glass Castle" floored me on several levels. Emotionally, its genuine and heartfelt performances eliminated any hints of embeddd maudlin within Jeanette Walls' acclaimed memoir. Visually, its a carefully designed effort with a mise-en-scene firmly anchored to the mood and tempos of its characters. It's chaotic when the scene is chaotic.... patient when holding on the complex swell of emotions building (or being buried) within its faces... and subtly persuasive at mining the unspoken such as one shot of a young girl (Ella Anderson) framed at the far left side of a car's backseat, anxiously awaiting the reaction of her drunken father (Woody Harrelson) in the front. Adapting a cross cutting effect between time and place- focusing on the now adult Jeanette played to perfection by Brie Larson- could be disastrous in some films, yet here it works magnificently. "The Glass Castle" examines the unintentional bohemian fractures of family in a completely rewarding manner. And, anticipating the big climax between father and estranged daughter is prolonged, so when the moment does come, its impact is that much more powerful.


18. Let It Fall: Los Angeles 1982-1992


The best documentaries not only provide insight and rhetoric for a specific incident, person or place, but they explain and delineate how or why that said thing came to be. Screenwriter John Ridley's film about the 1992 riots in Los Angeles not only places those horrific days at the center of his thesis, but he effectively builds a sociological blueprint for the anger, resentment and active ingredients for why such horrific days began. Like Ezra Edelman's sprawling "O.J. Made In America" from last year, "Let It Fall" examines the history of Los Angeles incrementally for a decade before the events in 1992, weaving together archival footage and some incredibly personal interviews whose full experiences with the riots are built in slowly and mysteriously until they create a panorama of grief, individualism and doomed history that hopefully will never repeat itself. 

17. It Comes At Night



 After the flairs of rough-hewn brilliance that occasionally bubbled to the surface in Trey Edward Shults' debut feature "Krisha", it shouldn't be a complete surprise his sophomore effort is so there as well. What is tantamount in "It Comes At Night" is the elongation of tension throughout the entire film, sustained by Shults' perfect accentuation of camera movement and lighting (which at times feels like its lit only by candlelight and lantern). Technical chops aside, "It Comes At Night" is also a pregnant, psychologically taut thriller that posits the idea of mankind's Armageddon as rendered through two sets of families in an isolated part of the country learning to trust, compromise and simply live together as an undefined sickness ravages the unlucky ones. Joel Edgerton, Carmen Ejogo, Riley Keough, Christopher Abbott and Kelvin Harrison Jr. all give tremendous and tightly screwed performances. At one point towards the end, I found myself holding my breath as the consequences on screen tumble towards an inevitable outcome of confusion and violence. It's quite unlike any end-of-the-world scenario imagined by Hollywood in some time which makes it all the more joyful to behold.


16. Wonderstruck 

The absolutely stunning recreation of New York City circa 1927 and 1977 alone would be enough to praise Todd Haynes' magical ode to childhood. But his latest film goes even deeper than that, opening a playful pandora's box of cosmic attachment between a young girl (Millicent Simmonds) and young boy (Oakes Fegely) both exploring the same dusty corners of the city (and its museums) fifty years apart. How they're connected (one story told in silent black and white and the other funky fluorescent) slowly weaves into focus with forceful magic realism, culminating in a finale that's both cathartic and tonally perfect with Brian Selznick's original source material. At its core, "Wonderstruck" is a kid's movie, but Haynes makes it feel vital and nostalgic at the same time, fit for both the ten year old and eighty year old. After all, its a film that says the past is on constant repeat like a record player skipping over and over. It's bold, moving and well, wonderful.


15. Karl Marx City 


Not only does Petra Epperlein's documentary shine a small light onto the cloistered history and political definitions of the East German Secret Police force (STASI) of the 70's and 80's, but it's also a highly personal exploration of her family's own hushed history during the same time. How these two spheres of time and place interact with each other is the central mystery. Intensely moving one second when Epperlein films her own family trying to come to terms with their father's mysterious suicide years ago, and coldly historical the next when interviewing ex STASI agents and how the compartmentalization of state always seemed to overrule their own better human judgement, "Karl Marx City" is the perfect example of utilizing a movable camera to peel back the layers.... no matter how painful they may be.


14. mother!
 

Go-for-broke cinema. No matter how one chooses to interpret Darren Aronofsky's parable of a tortured woman (Jennifer Lawrence) slowly going insane in a large old house when creatively-stifled husband (Javier Bardem) continually infringes on their partnership, "mother!" is daring and inciting. I choose to read it as a guttural feminist howl as every tiny recess of Lawrence's mind (including jealousy, paranoia, resentfulness and abandonment) is displayed- literally- onscreen. "mother!" represents a harrowing dissolution of family and self, eventually exploding into a carnal out-of-body trip through the violent dissonance of time where every mother's horror comes to inflict pain. Losing sons during war... losing daughters to carnivorous men.... and especially losing yourself in the midst of it all.



13. Ex-Libris


 Frederick Wiseman's 45th feature is yet another typically humanistic and magnificent look at an institution, its inner workings and all its vital tangents. Peeling away the layers through seemingly innocent events- board meetings, dinners, social events, community outreach programs- "Ex Libris" gives all of these things almost holistic observation. He doesn't judge. He doesn't discriminate. All types, races and genders are shown to be part of living organism known as the New York Public Library system. Through his now customary style of establishing shots and then (seemingly) random events recorded like a fly-on-the-wall, Wiseman has delivered another monumental achievement in his soulful exploration of our modern world and the beating hearts and racing minds withinit it.


 12. Columbus


Like Richard Linklater's "Before Sunrise" trilogy or Abbas Kiarostami's "Certified Copy", director Kogonada's "Columbus" belongs in that rarefied category of film that works on a different level. Driven by two of the year's absolute best performances by Haley Lu Richardson and John Cho, "Columbus" is a film beautifully attuned to the intricacies and rhythms of two people simply getting to know each other. It doesn't play out like your typical May-December romance. Its way too smart for that. This is a hushed, almost reverent character piece about two people finding each other at the exact moment in their lives when they probably both need each other the most. It's a film that largely flew under the radar, and its a shame because it deserves all the acclaim and more.


 
11. Blade Runner 2049


What struck struck me most intensely about Denis Villeneuve's sequel to Ridley Scott's trendsetting 1982 film is it's stillness. From the opening scene, the emphasis isn't squarely on action set pieces (although when those happen, it's the quiet that makes them explode against the senses) but the search for meaning in a dystopian world where the most precious vestige of reality is a miraculous human birth. I sound like a broken record as I've said for three years straight now, but Villenueve is working a different level from most filmmakers, completely attuned to the mechanics of a somewhat rickety science fiction idea and how to make it seem relevant in our current world of eroding self and confusing virtual realities.


10. The Post
  


 And to think this is the film that Steven Spielberg just decided to make quickly while awaiting production on another huge blockbuster effort next year. What remains is a crackling and riveting old school journalism picture that grinds everything down to its essence. There's no fluff.The film looks and feels traditional. It follows some fairly routine notes. However, "The Post" succeeds in the way it rhymes with determination and intelligence. Simply following a man as he hustles through a newsroom and then leaves a piece of paper at the hands of a copy editor and tells him he's got 10 minutes to fix it.... well its a retro effort that speaks loudly to this once journalism major's heart. And Tom Hanks and Meryl Streep are pretty good too.


9. Bomb City 


  Jameson Brooks' feature film debut is a rocket of visual panache and angry narrative. A grungy Texas true crime bombshell, this description still doesn't quite do the film justice. Based on the story about the violent collision of two sects of West Texas highschoolers in 1997, "Bomb City" is highly reminiscent of lost-and-confused-kids tales such as "Over the Edge" (1979) or the early films of Nick Gomez such as "Laws of Gravity" (1993). As the tension between the groups of preppy football players and punk rock outcasts festers, the film builds to a simmering and raw display of violence that's genuinely unsettling. Expertly made, shot and scored, "Bomb City" was the most electric film at the 2017 Dallas International Film Festival. Watch out for it.


8. 20th Century Women


 Mike Mills' "20th Centruy Women" feels like an achingly real memoir about adolescence told not through the subject's eyes, but through the prism of the people around him whose voices and perspectives are given equal traction. At first, the film feels ragged and episodic, but it slowly gels into a magnificent ensemble full of life, fragility and casual wisdom. The beauty resides in its raggedness. Even though the women of the title (Annette Benning, Greta Gerwig and Elle Fanning) are given moments of resplendence in the way they shuffle, dance, worry, react and interact with each other, Mills' screenplay and direction belie a gentle touch on everyone involved. It's also a film that understands the textures of an era in the way he flashes black and white photos to subliminally relay faces and images. And, just like a great novel, there's pain and reality in the way each person interjects their fate in voiceover, explaining future and past in one tumultuous gesture. It not only emphasizes the tangential nature of life, but breathes humanity in the present.


7. The Salesman


As he did in "The Past" and "A Seperation", Asgar Farhadi takes a simple disturbance in the relationship of a married couple and and spins it into a dizzying exploration of not only their personal interaction, but their place in Iranian society. "The Salesman" is a film that works incrementally, slowly revealing and uncovering layers with precision. I'm sure if I were a bit more familiar with the caveats of Arthur Miller's "Death of a Salesman" -whose plot device mimics the couple in the Farhadi's as they're actors rehearsing said play- I'd be even more impressed with the film. Part revenge-drama and part meta-cinema about two people coping with anger and embarrassment both on-stage and off, "The Salesman" is a riveting addition to Farhadi's magisterial body of work so far. 

6. Phantom Thread


Psychologically venomous. Perversely manipulative. Elegantly composed. All of these things accurately describe Paul Thomas Anderson's latest endeavor. While it, at times, feels like the most mature and visually repressive (in a good way) film he's ever done, its also his most radical in the way his couple- famed fashion designer Reynolds Woodcock (Daniel Day Lewis) and plucked-from-obscurity Alma (Vicky Krieps)- dance and maneuver through a relationship fraught with hidden personal demons, controlling personalities and hints of dominatrix. It's riveting and complex and confusing all at the same time. And when will we ever learn nothing good happens at a New Year's Eve party in a PTA film?


5. Personal Shopper


Sometimes, hype ruins a film for me. When I finally saw Olivier Assayas' "Personal Shopper" in the spring of '17, it's incredible word of mouth since Cannes the previous year was overwhelming.Thankfully, "Personal Shopper" exceeds expectations. Starring Kristen Stewart in a restless, frazzled performance that makes her tenuous connection to the afterlife that much more electric, Assayas spins his drama in so many directions that it could fail at any one of them, but doesn't. Part metaphysical ghost story, part murder-mystery and part travelogue, "Personal Shopper" ultimately becomes a pregnant examination of all these genres. It also has something magnificent to say about the transience of life. As the titular personal shopper, Assayas has cast Stewart as the anonymous presence who shops and supplies clothing for a famous celebrity in Paris. Stewart hates the job, and she's stuck emotionally as well, waiting for a sign from the afterlife from her recently deceased brother. Problem is, something else attaches itself to her while playing in the wold of shadows. "Personal Shopper" is startling, perplexing, mischievous and subtly chilling.


4. Dunkirk



As he's so masterly done since his debut feature almost twenty years ago, Christopher Nolan's penchant for the manipulation of time features prominently in his WWII feature, "Dunkirk". Literally suspending the rigors of war across three distinct and overlapping timelines (land, sea and air), it's a technical gambit that, in other hands, could be problematic. However, in Nolan's radical conceptualization, "Dunkirk" is essentially a silent film with sporadic bursts of dialogue that imposes the idea of time being the strictest enemy against his relatively anonymous cast of men desperately running away (and towards) the waning vestiges of combat. Refusing to carve out a central figure of empathy (although Tom Hardy's ace fighter pilot comes the closest thing to a hero the film has, including a momentous bow), "Dunkirk" is even more radical for the way it drops us in the midst of war and allows us to experience the waves of anger, desperation, intelligence, cowardice and loyalty that ebbs and flows over its young men facing a dark hour of the war. I find this more honest and revealing than so many other war films that impose a facade of heroism on its characters. In a war that spanned so many years and re-wrote both the internal and external geography of so many men, women and landscapes, "Dunkirk" feels all the more courageous.
 
3. Lady Bird

  I think the moment Greta Gerwig's lovingly detailed and emotionally attuned coming-of-age masterpiece "Lady Bird" completely wrecked me is the moment Saoirse Ronan finds a handful of crumpled papers in her luggage... placed their surprisingly by her father (Tracy Letts) to let her know the complicated and unsung emotions her mother (Laurie Metcalf) was never able to convey. The same type of thing happened to me once..... a letter of compassion, remorse and half-spoken truths written by my parents at a crucial age in my life. I imagine people will find other select moments within Gerwig's film that relate to their own confused, tumultuous experiences in life which is exactly why "Lady Bird" feels more like a communal memoir than a single film. There's so much tiny beauty and personal affectations riddled throughout "Lady Bird" that it becomes a monumental ode to a certain time in life where everything feels exaggerated and explosive. And its performances are so perfectly realized and its mood so assured that it speaks volumes about actress turned director Gerwig and her natural ability to coax something at once personal and universal. I could gush about this film for days.


2. Wind River

 
With three efforts in a small amount of time ("Sicario", "Hell or High Water" and now "Wind River"), writer-director Taylor Sheridan is slowly bringing intelligence back to the action thriller. While stepping behind the camera for his sophomore film in "Wind River" and lending only his writing abilities to the other two, a clear pattern of sublime understanding for complex characters in a deadly, shifting and unrelenting environment is quite clear. Stacked with a robust cast full of sensitive performances,
part of the film's poetic success- besides its highly attuned care to make every bullet and punch resound with a thunderous thud- are the quiet moments interspersed throughout. The conversations had throughout "Wind River" are often just as incisive as the action. A quiet moment between Jeremy Renner and FBI agent Elizabeth Olsen- when he explains why he's doing what he's doing for her- is one of the seminal moments of the year in film. Likewise, the way Olsen bottles and chortles up her emotions for a good majority of the film- finally allowing them overtake her in the penultimate scene- is so moving because its timed perfectly to allow the breathless, swooning violence of the previous few scenes gently settle over her. Like Emily Blunt shaking and washing the blood out of her hair in "Sicario", its okay for women to cry in Sheridan's universe.... just not when the shit hits the fan or when other people are around to judge your frazzled self.

1. The Lost City of Z



 In the films of James Gray, nothing comes easy. Survival is often sought at a high price. Walloped in deep shadow.... or inky blacks of a midnight trainyard.... or the halcyon golden of a cramped New York City tenement... or especially in the oppressive and humid jungles of South America, his films are a litmus test for the human experience. In his latest film, "The Lost City of Z" (adapted from the book of the same name by David Grann), his survivalist instinct manifests itself in a literal uncharted adventure that sees British officer Col. Percy Fawcett (Charlie Hunnam) braving the depths of the Amazonian jungle and getting lost both in body and spirit. Gorgeously framed and edited, impeccably acted and featuring a classicism whose power is often overwhelming, I find it hard to believe Gray can ever top himself after "The Immigrant" (2014). Though it bombed theatrically and at festivals that film too was a masterpiece of fragility and trapped emotions in the visage of Marion Cotillard's single immigrant female status. I love that film with no bounds. And now, "The Lost City of Z" has made me love something even more rabidly.



Honorable mentions: The Little Hours, Things To Come, I Am Not Your Negro, Wonder Woman, BPM (120 Beats), Roman J. Israel Esq, The Big Sick, Atomic Blond, Ingrid Goes West, The Bad Batch





Friday, January 12, 2018

Retro Grade: The Best Non 2017 Films I Saw in 2017

 12. Baaria (2004) - Giuseppe Tornatore's Italian epic features both the best and worst of his film making ability. The worst, including a fairly maudlin young boy (Francisco Scianna) in the middle of history's raging expanse of time with one single family and the best, that same raging sense of time. "Baaria" holds everything on its sleeve, creating monumental sadness and joy as we watch this family (and the small community of the town Baaria) change, grow, live and die across fifty years. What the film hits most eloquently are the minute feelings as we grow older and fall in and out of love, partly because the film is regarded as Tornatore's most autobiographical as its the same region in Italy he himself grew up. And the final image- echoing back to the opening scene but with a different generation, feels like the perfect encapsulation of handing the torch to our children. This idea may not make much literal sense, but one gets the impression Tornatore is reaching for the idealized/nostalgic tempo of his memories and he hits the sweet spot more often than not. It's not one of his more accepted modern classics like "Cinema Paradiso" or "The Legend of 1900", but it contains just as much depth and feeling. This seems to have been pretty derided when it came out, but I found it completely entrancing and sweet from start to finish.

11. Pickpocket (1997) - One of the few remaining Jia Zhangke films I had yet to see, his debut from 1997 is an intellectual canon shot of ideas, images and overall mood that would infest all of his later efforts. A disullusioned ex cop- now making a living as a thief- wanders around his hometown, falls in love with a karaoke girl and struggles to retain his identity in the face of a changing regime. Handled with Zhangke's usual subtlety and deftness for the small miracles in life, "Pickpocket" serves as a truly identifying feature of a filmmaker not only working on a higher level than most, but one that proves his surehandedness wasfirmly in place from the very beginning.

10. Hitchcock/Truffaut (2015) - It'd be easy to say that a documentary whose reliance on found footage of two great directors talking to each other about the logistics and love of their filmmaking craft is slight molding of images rather than weaving a compelling whole work. However, film critic/director Kent Jones has done much more than that in the conversation between Francois Truffaut and Alfred Hitchcock by intersecting and creating a variety of images from both gentleman's pictures to not only punctuate their ideas, but to literally starve the viewer in anticipation of re-watching these masterworks once again. 2017 has been good to Hitchcock (including a wonderful full length appraisal of his 1960 masterpiece "Psycho" called "78/52") and this film from a couple years ago is a tremendous addition to the Hitchcock groundswell.


9. Thieves After Dark (1984) - Released in 1984 and financed/shot/released in France after an especially negative experience with his Hollywood-backed film "White Dog" in 1982, "Thieves After Dark" is a tough one to find. Never released on DVD and relegated to shoddy VHS copies (which is the source I finally tracked down), the film isn't one of Fuller's best, but it still retains glimmers of his prowess as a filmmaker reflecting the European sensibilities through an Americanized eye (as he did so ludicrously with the German financed "Dead Pigeon on Beethoven Street" almost a decade earlier). Hewing close to the crime genre, "Thieves After Dark" stars the aforementioned Jannot (Isabelle) and Bobbi di Cicco (Francois) as a couple who meet after Jannot violently turns on her welfare office worker. Observing the whole event and befriending her in the street afterwards, the two commiserate on their downtrodden status and hatch up a plan to rob their respective city officials as a sort of class struggle retribution. The cross-hairs for Francois becomes Tartuffe (deliciously played in a perverse performance by legendary French filmmaker Claude Chabrol). As the duo carry out their robberies, the police become involved after a murder derails their seemingly low-grade acts of burglary which causes Francois and Isabelle to hit the road and become fugitives. What seems like ordinary noir fodder (based on a novel by Olivier Beer), in the swerving vision of Fuller becomes a sweaty, high pitched variation on Bonnie and Clyde complete with a leering Chabrol condemned to crazily stitched together close-ups, a police chief who doesn't do much besides smoke and a penultimate scene that features Francois using a dead body to protect himself from gunshots as the young daughter of the dead man cries in the distance. Basically, its everything you'd expect from Fuller throwing caution to the wind and producing a French crime picture that, perhaps, he felt was a middle finger to the establishment of rules and order in Hollywood that so haphazardly ran him out of town and onto the French Riviera.


8. By the Sea (2015) - Hindsight is 20/20, but looking back on Angelina Jolie's melancholy and brutally reflective drama about a married couple largely drifting apart.... bored with each other..... fighting ennui.... it's hard not to wince after the very public/spiteful divorce of Jolie and husband Brad Pitt as anything other then personal excavation. Outside of that, "By the Sea" is a wonderfully evocative study of ugliness and loneliness being sunburned against a lush Mediterranean backdrop as said couple (Pitt and Jolie) wander around each other without the slightest sense of how to fix the damaged vestiges of life around them. While I wasn't the biggest fan of Jolie's other previous directorial efforts, "By the Sea" showcases a bit of European flavor in her style that's been sorely lacking in the blunt force methods of her other war-set films.

7. Green Fish (1997) - One of two Lee Chang Dong films on the list this year, "Green Fish" is his debut. Shifting between a gangster film and an oddball romance, "Green Fish" is so great because of the way it constantly shifts gears. As a rural man Makdong (Han Suk-Kyu), recently discharged from the army, travels to the big city, not only does he make the mistake of joining a yakuza group, but he ends up falling in love with the lounge-singer girlfriend of his yakuza boss. Like most of Dong's films, "Green Fish" pulses with sadness and energy as its machinations of genre are constantly upended and moralized. We probably know where all this is headed, but the film manages to create surprises and touching moments of humanity, none moreso than the final scene in which Makdong's family moves around their roadside restaurant (filmed in a single long take exterior shot) as the old girlfriend suddenly realizes the place she's inadvertently ended up at.... unable to explain her involvement with their son. When all is said and done, "Green Fish" aligns itself with the films of Hou Hsiao Hsien in the way it encapsulates both a mood and a memory of people/places skirting the edges of each other without ever fully explaining themselves. Pretty much just like life itself.

6. France Inc. (1974) - Alain Corneua may be one of the more under appreciated French filmmakers of the last few decades. Working right up till his death in 2010 with the Kristin Scott Thomas/Ludivine Sagnier potboiler "Love Crime" (which spawned a fairly putrid DePalma remake in 2012 titled "Passion"), Corneau's real mean streak came in the mid to late 70's. Alongside the very bleak "Serie Noir" and hard nosed cop flick "Police Python 357", "France, Anonymous Society" was his feature film debut in 1974. In the spirit of all brash first attempts, Corneau runs rampant with idea, style and social commentary. The main idea, as such, is a complicated web of sardonic posturing between a local drug dealer (played to cool perfection by Michel Bouqet) and an omniscient drug corporation who seem to substitute for the government in political reach and power. One viewing may not be enough to fully comprehend exactly whose side each person resides with as the body toll mounts, kidnappings of silent little girls compounds the tensions and dead-end-bug-eyed junkies may eventually rule the world. And did I mention the whole thing takes place filtered through the immortal memory of the Bouqet character 100 years in the future? It seems all the violence did help discover some sort of immortal health injection, which creates even more of a loopy and dazed tension to the entire film. I'd say "France, Anonymous Society" is ripe for  "rediscovery and release", but seeing as how its never been released on home video outside a now long out of print 10 film boxset, it's simply due for "discovery". See this if you can.

5. Woman In Chains (1968) -  Released in 1968 at the height of power pop and love, French director Henri Georges Clouzot's final film plays like he knows it'll be his last. Opening with a smorgasbord of subliminally placed bright colors amidst free-flowing jazzy editing , "La Prisionnaire" (or "Woman In Chains" as it was marginally released in the States) is a vibrant gasp effort from the aging (and ailing) filmmaker. Halted several times during production due to Clouzot's health, "Woman In Chains" ultimately feels like it should be recognized alongside Antonioni's "Blow Up" or "Michael Powell's "Peeping Tom" as a film that not only seems to understand the overall 'grooviness' of its day but one that subverts its inherent perversion and takes stilted joy in the ideas just lurking beneath the surface. And like both those films, "Woman In Chains" twists and turns the idea of watching and being looked at into a spry psychological game of who'll bluff and look away first. The fact that its Clouzot's first and only color film is also quite wonderful, and gets a lot of mileage from it. Gaining some recognition on the festival circuit a couple years back, "Woman In Chains" deserves a much wider re-release than its been given. While it may not be Clouzot's absolute best film (which still remains "Wages of Fear" and "Diabolique" simply for their genre-setting templates), "Woman In Chains" is a perverse, skilled and eye-popping rendition of how Clouzot saw the world in groovy 1968.

4.  Fort Apache (1948) - Working my way through all (or rather a good majority) of John Ford's films, "Fort Apache" jostled and stirred me like the first viewing of "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance". The regular themes of masculine western expansion and camaraderie in the face of weary duty are on full display, but the film also meanders towards an extremely nihilistic finale that feels quite unlike anything Ford had attempted up until that point. As the leader of a hard-nosed troop of calvary soldiers defending the last vestiges of American homesteading in the far west, Henry Fonda brilliantly portrays a commander who not only alienates his own daughter (Shirley Temple), but his entire troop with his attention to rules and regulations..... all leading to a fatalistic collision between rules and the Wild West. Like "The Searchers" and the aforementioned "The Man Who Shot LIberty Valance", "Fort Apache" dares to question the mythology of the west and man's dubious place within its vast borders.

3. Demons (1971) - Toshio Matsumoto's follow-up to his avant-garde-shot-across-the-bow "Funeral Parade of Roses" (1969) was this bleak, nocturnal samurai revenge epic titled "Demons". Released in 1971, "Demons" couldn't be more different than that debut feature. Where that earlier film seemed to exist as a fly-on-the-wall experiment- blending Godardian nouvelle vague and queer cinema theatrics into a student film like adrenaline rush- "Demons" is measured and even patient at times, wallowing in its inky black and white images as if Akira Kurosawa wanted to get very dark....literally and figuratively. But this patience is often shattered by shocking acts of violence. Always a fan of the spurting squib effect, Matsumoto and "Demons" uses the sword and its devastating impact on the human body to angry effect. Throat slashing and quick swipes to the chest are felt and experienced quite unlike any other samurai film. And then there's the twisting Shakespearean acts of deceit and revenge that ultimately take hold and push the film's unrepentant ronin Gengobei (Katsuo Nakamura) farther and farther into the darkness. "Demons" may be a sophomore film for a director who left behind only four feature titles, but it places Matsumoto in the hallowed echelon of Japanese New Wave directors who not only successfully regurgitated an emblematic moment of their nation's history, but managed to graft something exciting onto the shadows of the past as well.

2. Peppermint Candy (1999) - With just five films (including greats like "Secret Sunshine" and "Green Fish"), South Korean filmmaker Lee Chang Dong has crafted a small but powerful body of work whose films simmer and eventually explode with devastating impact. "Peppermint Candy"- filmed in 1999 and released here in the States in 2001 where it premiered in the Film Society of Lincoln Center's prestigious New Directors/New Films venue that year- crafts the same powder keg sense of disillusionment. Beginning in 1999 with the suicide of an erratic and highly charged man (Kyoung-gu Sal), the film works backwards in time to reveal just why and how he came to this emotionally empty state of being. In the process of illuminating his mental state, from optimistic young love to crashing adult of failed marriages and poor business decisions, "Peppermint Candy" also surveys the entire country of South Korea along with him. This is searing, tough, and heartbreaking cinema of the highest order.

1. Something To Remind Me (2002) - In Christian Petzold's "Something To Remind Me" (2002), the air of fatalism hanging around the thing from the very beginning feels even more authoritative than any other in his long career. Tomas (Andre Hennick) sees a beautiful tall blonde Leyla (Nina Hoss) sharing his swimming pool and tries to start up a conversation. She ignores him but begins to slowly creep up into his life. She's there when his brother chats up a random girl having lunch at the same cafe. She eventually agrees to go out with him, leaving him breathlessly wondering where she went after a night of simple and unassuming exhausted sleep on his couch. The story abruptly shifts away from their relationship when Leyla begins working at a vaguely realized halfway house, again slowly but assuredly encroaching into the universe of one of the men housed there. Lurking, overweight and giving off the sense of a human teddy bear who often doesn't understand his own strength, Blum (Sven Pippig) can't help but notice Leyla's unsolicited flirtations. From there, "Something To Remind Me" crawls ever so carefully towards a climax that seems obvious and complex at the same time, firmly ensconced in the Petzold universe of Hitchcockian deception, social class divide and muted emotions. Not only is it a towering achievement of all these things, but further proof that Petzold is one of the finest directors working today.

Saturday, January 06, 2018

Serious Radio: My Favorite Music of 2017

9. Broken Social Scene, "A Hug of Thunder"



Only the fifth studio album in 18 years from this Canadian rock band, "Hug of Thunder" showcases everything resplendent about the group. Pop-driven at times..... epic arena rock at others..... ditzy experimentalism in between. I love this band so much and hope they never stop swerving between sounds and confections.


8. Max Richter, "Out of the Dark Room"




Essentially a re-packaged anthology of his best work (mostly including soundtrack bits), composer Max Richter continues to create dreamy, melancholy and heartbreaking arrangements that speak to the mind and the soul.


7. The Arcade Fire, "Everything Now"



I didn't think I could admire an Arcade Fire album more than their previous few, but "Everything Now" is so full of vital moments and heart wrenching displays of personal reflection that it feels like their most personal work to date.


6. The Afghan Whigs, "In Spades"





After a decade away from each other, The Afghan Whigs have produced two stellar albums that echo back to their strained 90's melancholy and lead singer Greg Dulli's singular ability to make pained poetry out of a voice that sounds like he's making it up on the fly. "In Spades" may actually be better than "Do the Beast" from two years ago. More listens are needed.


5. Julie Byrne, "Not Even Happiness"


New York singer songwriter Julie Byrne came streaking out of the blue and her confident voice- at once forceful and lilting- stuck something deep inside me. One of two original female singer-songwriters on this list, I'd say American folk (and music in general) will only benefit from her mesmerizing future.


4. Do Make Say Think, "Stubborn Persistent Illusions" 



Canadian instrumental post-rock is certainly not everyone's favorite genre of music, but these guys make it seem so effortless. There's nothing groundbreaking to their sound here.....just good old fashioned, lengthy wall of sound that washes over one like a waterfall of audible bliss.


3. Phoebe Bridgers, Stranger In the Alps



Much has been made this year of artist Mount Eerie and his blisteringly honest debut that lays bares the whims of his soul after his wife's death. I'd rank Bridgers' debut as just as honest and crushing and scarred. I love this album and this singer so much.


2. The National, "Sleep Well Beast" 


Each and every lyric/melody in The National's latest masterpiece uncovers a feeling of yearning, sadness or supreme bliss. It's that good. Next to Radiohead, this is the best band in the world.


1. Grizzly Bear, "Painted Ruins"



Another album of pure perfection, Grizzly Bear's fifth release culminates into a shattering sound of driving drum lines, evolving melodies and abrasive shifts in tempo that keep you on the edge of your seat, as if the band is pretty damn sure they're making something legendary.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Le Bonnie and Clyde: Sam Fuller's "Thieves After Dark"

In a fairly benign and early scene in Sam Fuller's second-to-last film titled "Thieves After Dark", Isabelle (Veronique Jannot) is walking down a French street when a motorbike scoots by on her left side. Giving the cyclist a quick step into the street towards him before slyly pulling away and back into her straight-line stroll, her playful action causes the motorcyclist to swerve briefly. Neither one looks back at the other as they continue on their destined paths, and it's quite uncertain whether this is a scripted provocation or an improvised moment of playful aggression. Either way, its a moment that seemingly distills Fuller's cantankerous and gruff worldview of characters and their inner warfare.

Released in 1984 and financed/shot/released in France after an especially negative experience with his Hollywood-backed film "White Dog" in 1982, "Thieves After Dark" is a tough one to find. Never released on DVD and relegated to shoddy VHS copies (which is the source I finally tracked down), the film isn't one of Fuller's best, but it still retains glimmers of his prowess as a filmmaker reflecting the European sensibilities through an Americanized eye (as he did so ludicrously with the German financed "Dead Pigeon on Beethoven Street" almost a decade earlier).

Hewing close to the crime genre, "Thieves After Dark" stars the aforementioned Jannot (Isabelle) and Bobbi di Cicco (Francois) as a couple who meet after Jannot violently turns on her welfare office worker. Observing the whole event and befriending her in the street afterwards, the two commiserate on their downtrodden status and hatch up a plan to rob their respective city officials as a sort of class struggle retribution. The cross-hairs for Francois becomes Tartuffe (deliciously played in a perverse performance by legendary French filmmaker Claude Chabrol). As the duo carry out their robberies, the police become involved after a murder derails their seemingly low-grade acts of burglary which causes Francois and Isabelle to hit the road and become fugitives. What seems like ordinary noir fodder (based on a novel by Olivier Beer), in the swerving vision of Fuller becomes a sweaty, high pitched variation on Bonnie and Clyde complete with a leering Chabrol condemned to crazily stitched together close-ups, a police chief who doesn't do much besides smoke and a penultimate scene that features Francois using a dead body to protect himself from gunshots as the young daughter of the dead man cries in the distance. Basically, its everything you'd expect from Fuller throwing caution to the wind and producing a French crime picture that, perhaps, he felt was a middle finger to the establishment of rules and order in Hollywood. And if that's not enough, watching Chabrol leer and hang from a six story window in order to spy on a woman shaving her legs in the apartment next door should cater to any fix one may have.

Thursday, December 14, 2017

Tuesday, December 05, 2017

The Current Cinema 17.10

Roman J. Israel, Esq.

In choosing to title itself after the main character, Dan Gilroy's lacerating study of an eroding man awash in a concrete jungle of legal jargon and human indifference, "Roman J. Israel, Esq." holds true to this singular vision by never straying too far from Denzel Washington's increasingly distracted view of himself. Highly reminiscent of wiry 70's films like John G. Avildsen's "Save the Tiger" or Robert Mulligan's "The Nickel Ride", Gilroy's intelligent script places a decent man at a moral crossroads and then slowly tightens the atmosphere around him. Diversions are explored- especially in the role and performance of activist lawyer Carmen Ejogo who forms a tentative relationship with Roman- but the film stays locked on the increasingly bad decisions made by Roman after his basic support system fails him. I've heard some call this a slow-burn fizzler, but for my money, this is exactly the type of perceptive, oft-forgotten film that doesn't quite get made anymore.




Lady Bird

I think the moment Greta Gerwig's lovingly detailed and emotionally attuned coming-of-age masterpiece "Lady Bird" completely wrecked me is the moment Saoirse Ronan finds a handful of crumpled papers in her luggage... placed their surprisingly by her father (Tracy Letts) to let her know the complicated and unsung emotions her mother (Laurie Metcalf) was never able to convey. The same type of thing happened to me once..... a letter of compassion, remorse and half-spoken truths written by my parents at a crucial age in my life. I imagine people will find other select moments within Gerwig's film that relate to their own confused, tumultuous experiences in life which is exactly why "Lady Bird" feels more like a communal memoir than a single film. There's so much tiny beauty and personal affectations riddled throughout "Lady Bird" that it becomes a monumental ode to a certain time in life where everything feels exaggerated and explosive. And its performances are so perfectly realized and its mood so assured that it speaks volumes about actress turned director Gerwig and her natural ability to coax something at once personal and universal. I could gush about this film for days.



Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri

While Martin McDonagh's latest film keeps in step with his black-hearted, vicious characterizations, it also manages to pierce through with some insanely honest moments as it careens through an angry tale of inherent racism, police brutality, and the sneering reverberations of violence.

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

The Current Cinema 17.9

Wonderstruck



The absolutely stunning recreation of New York City circa 1927 and 1977 alone would be enough to praise Todd Haynes' magical ode to childhood. But his latest film goes even deeper than that, opening a playful pandora's box of cosmic attachment between a young girl (Millicent Simmonds) and young boy (Oakes Fegely) both exploring the same dusty corners of the city (and its museums) fifty years apart. How they're connected (one story told in silent black and white and the other funky fluorescent) slowly weaves into focus with forceful magic realism, culminating in a finale that's both cathartic and tonally perfect with Brian Selznick's original source material. At its core, "Wonderstruck" is a kid's movie, but Haynes makes it feel vital and nostalgic at the same time, fit for both the ten year old and eighty year old. After all, its a film that says the past is on constant repeat like a record player skipping over and over. It's bold, moving and well, wonderful.


The Killing of a Sacred Deer

For the first half of Greek provocateur Yorgis Lanthimos' "The Killing of a Sacred Deer", he ably casts an air of stilted, mannered weirdness that has one teetering on the edge of the disbelief. As the second half of the film's machinations come into focus, all of that tenseness slips away and it becomes another ugly, dark hearted entry in his universe of spiteful characters and emotional sacrifice. I just don't seem to be on this guy's wavelength.


The Florida Project

I'm not sure why, but I didn't equate the "project" in this title to mean a literal low-rent housing unit until about halfway through this film. Director Sean Baker is slowly becoming the the poet/puveyor of the disenfranchised and forgotten. While this film doesn't quite energize like "Starlet" or "Tangerine", it hits at something deeply rotten at the core of America in the trio of young Brooklyn Prince (the naive), trashy single mother Bria Vinaite (the lost) and hotel manager Willem DaFoe (the just getting by decent heart). None of these characters really expand into something greater than their characters, but the film's meandering authenticity and tiny moments of shattering heartbreak are more than enough to make amends.

Thursday, November 02, 2017

Midnight Madness 2017, Part 3

The Old Dark House (1932)


Perhaps the inspiration for Tobe Hooper's extremely dysfunctional family in "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre", James Whale's 1932 classic is much more an uneasy chamber horror than an outright horror film. When a group of travelers become stranded at an old mansion, they must deal with ominous shadows, weird behavior, and a possibly deranged man locked up in the attic. It's all deliriously framed and performed, teetering on the edge of new found talkie staginess and a genuine penchant for unease. I'm just disappointed it took me this long to finally see it.


The Devil's Candy (2017)


Sean Byrnes' "The Devil's Candy" is so repetitive and exploitative, it becomes a complete bore. The scariest thing about it? Another slovenly, crazy dough-eyed performance by Pruitt Taylor Vince as a possessive child killer being haunted by the demons in his head. Yea, it's that boring.


The Neon Maniacs (1986)


And to end October viewing on a high note, we have Joseph Mangine's mid 80's latex horror "Neon Maniacs". Certainly belonging to the class of "so bad its good", the film is a slapdash comedy of errors whose latex covered monsters are the stuff of Garbage Pail Kids legend. Just enjoyable and fun.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

Midnight Madness 2017, Part 2

The Devil Rides Out (1968)


As the introduction to this film on TCM explains, part of the reason it may not have been the big hit is because it had the unfortunate timing of being released after Roman Polanski's "Rosemary's Baby". Both films deal with the circumference of fear when a young couple are slowly initiated into a satanic cult, What "The Devil Rides Out" has going for it (besides being a tremendous Hammer production) is its sincere attempt to unnerve AND entertain. Christopher Lee is the rare good guy fighting the powers of black magic and while it does contain some of the inherent kookiness of late 60's Hammer films, it more often than not hits its mark with simple scares and imaginary creatures.


Family Portraits (1993)


Essentially three short films (Cutting Moments, Home and Prologue) compiled into one bleak trilogy, Douglas Buck's ultra low budget efforts aren't "scary" so to speak, but they're disturbing at a basic level. Full of silent, seething rage between its characters and long stares into space, when the violence does occur, it's all the more shocking for how Buck frames and introduces it.... "Cutting Moments" especially. These are the types of stories where acts of violence play out, almost mutely, behind closed doors and when the acts are sprung into the world, the neighbor will say "I never saw it coming. They were such nice people". Buck's career is relatively short, but his work is well worth searching out.


The Bloodstained Shadow (1978)


Antonio Bido's lesser known giallo shoehorns so much plot into its first half, it threatens to implode on itself. Retarded children locked in attics.... a seance.... the ubiquitous black-gloved killer and a painting that may contain the key to the whole thing. It's needlessly convoluted which lessens its impact once the mystery winds to its conclusion. It is a giallo, after all and deserves a Halloween watch.

Friday, October 13, 2017

Midnight Madness 2017, part 1

Wishmaster (1997)


I can't believe I've never seen the "Wishmaster" series. Released in the late 90's- right smack dab in the middle of the years where friends and I would stay up all night, drinking to "Nightmare On Elm Street" and "Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man"- this schlock horror series should have been front and center. Alas, I watch it now, sans the swirling appeal of alcohol, and it's pretty bad. The idea of a 'djinn' has always intrigued me, but the transformation of such a nightmarish ideal into a wise-cracking white guy in a business suit (and prison jumpers for the sequel!) is far from the established terrifying history of said creature.


Ouija (2013)


A PG-13 rating and lackluster word of mouth always kept me from indulging in "Ouija". However, the PG-13 rating is perhaps the most interesting aspect of this film about a group of dope-headed teens who experiment with said evil contraption in order to find out what happened to their dead friend. Olivia Cook leads in an effective thriller, free of gore and normal-explicit-horror-film-stuff, relying on old fashioned jump scares and some expertly choreographed scenes to ring every amount of tension from its somewhat narrative. Still, this was a pleasant surprise. Now onto Mike Flanagan's part 2 which, with the same style of rating, hopefully entails some of the same pleasures.


Spontaneous Combustion (1990)



Tobe Hooper has his devotees, but his career is quite the schizophrenic one. By the time of "Spontaneous Combustion", I feel like he'd kind of lost his edge. Still entertaining for its woefully hectic performance by Brad Dourif and unique subject matter about nuclear age test-dummie parents giving birth to a man who can shoot fire and destroy others is very Stephen King-esque. There's not much schock here, but lots of schlock.

Friday, September 29, 2017

The Current Cinema 17.8

Karl Marx City


Not only does Petra Epperlein's documentary shine a small light onto the cloistered history and political definitions of the East German Secret Police force (STASI) of the 70's and 80's, but it's also a highly personal exploration of her family's own hushed history during the same time. How these two spheres of time and place interact with each other is the central mystery. Intensely moving one second when Epperlein films her own family trying to come to terms with their father's mysterious suicide years ago, and coldly historical the next when interviewing ex STASI agents and how the compartmentalization of state always seemed to overrule their own better human judgement, "Karl Marx City" is the perfect example of utilizing a movable camera to peel back the layers.... no matter how painful they may be.


mother!

Go-for-broke cinema. No matter how one chooses to interpret Darren Aronofsky's parable of a tortured woman (Jennifer Lawrence) slowly going insane in a large old house when creatively-stifled husband (Javier Bardem) continually infringes on their partnership, "mother!" is daring and inciting. I choose to read it as a guttural feminist howl as every tiny recess of Lawrence's mind (including jealousy, paranoia, resentfulness and abandonment) is displayed- literally- onscreen. "mother!" represents a harrowing dissolution of family and self, eventually exploding into a carnal out-of-body trip through the violent dissonance of time where every mother's horror comes to inflict pain. Losing sons during war... losing daughters to carnivorous men.... and especially losing yourself in the midst of it all. One of the year's very best films.


American Assassin

Saw this on the same day as the 1997 horror movie "Wishmaster" and sad to report, that film is MUCH better than "American Assassin". I'm sick of the kick-ass mercenary fighting terrorist genre.


Plus, TONS of new reviews at Dallas Film Now including "Columbus", "Trophy", "Gook", "Rememory", "Gunshy" and more.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Saturday, September 02, 2017

Recently Seen, Late Summer Leftover edition

1. The Glass Castle (2017) - Destin Daniel Cretton's "The Glass Castle" floored me on several levels. Emotionally, its genuine and heartfelt performances eliminated any hints of embeddd maudlin within Jeanette Walls' acclaimed memoir. Visually, its a carefully designed effort with a mise-en-scene firmly anchored to the mood and tempos of its characters. It's chaotic when the scene is chaotic.... patient when holding on the complex swell of emotions building (or being buried) within its faces... and subtly persuasive at mining the unspoken such as one shot of a young girl (Ella Anderson) framed at the far left side of a car's backseat, anxiously awaiting the reaction of her drunken father (Woody Harrelson) in the front. Adapting a cross cutting effect between time and place- focusing on the now adult Jeanette played to perfection by Brie Larson- could be disastrous in some films, yet here it works magnificently. "The Glass Castle" examines the unintentional bohemian fractures of family in a completely rewarding manner. And, anticipating the big climax between father and estranged daughter is prolonged, so when the moment does come, its impact is that much more powerful.

2. Peppermint Candy (1999)- With just five films (including greats like "Secret Sunshine" and "Green Fish"), South Korean filmmaker Lee Chang Dong has crafted a small but powerful body of work whose films simmer and eventually explode with devastating impact. "Peppermint Candy"- filmed in 1999 and released here in the States in 2001 where it premiered in the Film Society of Lincoln Center's prestigious New Directors/New Films venue that year- crafts the same powder keg sense of disillusionment. Beginning in 1999 with the suicide of an erratic and highly charged man (Kyoung-gu Sal), the film works backwards in time to reveal just why and how he came to this emotionally empty state of being. In the process of illuminating his mental state, from optimistic young love to crashing adult of failed marriages and poor business decisions, "Peppermint Candy" also surveys the entire country of South Korea along with him. This is searing, tough, and heartbreaking cinema of the highest order.

3. Crown Heights (2017) Justice gone horribly wrong. Full review at Dallas Film Now

4. They Were Expendable (1945)- Still working my way through all of John Ford's films. One of the few to touch on WWII directly, this one feels more fatalistic than anything else because it was made right after he himself returned from the war.

5. Salt and Fire (2016)- The great Werner Herzog directs a true dud. Something about environmental disasters, salt flats and blind Bolivian children.

6. Judge Fayard aka The Sheriff (1978)- France's answer to American workmanlike filmmakers such as Don Siegel and Michael Winner was Yves Boisset. This one is reeeaallly good about a determined judge (Patrick Deware) to bring down a shadow organization of ex-Algerian soldiers and money laundering CEO's. Lots of murders, paranoia and tricky French politics.

7. Whose Streets? (2017)- A timely documentary... a true anatomy of a riot that feels microcosmic of our current times. Thoughts at Dallas Film Now

8. Caged Heat (1974)- One of the few Jonathan Demme I hadn't seen. Women in prison cult classic that features more nuance than the usual fare. Also, I really love Crystin Sinclaire. Seems like she only did a few things in the 70's than fell off the cinematic radar.

9. The Sunshine Makers (2016)- Documentary about LSD producers in the late 60's. Kinda makes one want to boil up some LSD... until the prison sentences, hefty fines and forced hibernation to Canada.

10. 31 (2015)- I used to like Rob Zombie horror movies. "House of 1,000 Corpses" is all kinds of funky. This one.... terrible. If psychotic dwarf Nazi's are your bag, then have fun.

Sunday, August 20, 2017

On "Wind River"

With three efforts in a small amount of time ("Sicario", "Hell or High Water" and now "Wind River"), writer-director Taylor Sheridan is slowly bringing intelligence back to the action thriller. While stepping behind the camera for his sophomore film in "Wind River" and lending only his writing abilities to the other two, a clear pattern of sublime understanding for complex characters in a deadly, shifting and unrelenting environment. It's also becoming clear he loves to shade half of his films from a somewhat feminist point of view. In "Sicario", Emily Blunt was the audience's naive entrance into a world of conspiratorial government machismo and nocturnal desert drug deals. In "Wind River", part of the perspective falls on the shoulders of Las Vegas FBI field agent Elizabeth Olsen.... so out of her element that she first arrives to the Indian reservation whose name the film derives its title from wearing only a windbreaker and high heels. But this spare choice of clothing certainly doesn't define her attitude, intelligence or will when it comes to solving the crime laid at her feet. Instead, she (like Emily Blunt) becomes the beating heart of an affair that will see her constantly checking her emotions, acting with confidence and smarts when the time is right, then lamenting the sadness of the whole thing once its over. She gives yet another tremendous performance in a film that's stunning, shocking, brutal and eventually wise about the patterns of violence that continually rear its ugly head in a winter wasteland where the margins of a culture have been confined for a century.


The other half of "Wind River's" grand perspective falls on the stoic but dented Corey (Jeremy Renner), a Fish and Wildlife tracker suffering from his own personal family trauma when he stumbles across the dead body of a family friend. It's this body that summons Olsen's FBI Agent Jane Banner to the blustery Indian reservation, immediately coming into conflict with both the customs and procedures of the territory. Teaming up with Renner, the two embark on a quest to find the killer or killers.

Part of the film's poetic success- besides its highly attuned care to make every bullet and punch resound with a thunderous thud- are the quiet moments interspersed throughout. The conversations had throughout "Wind River" are often just as incisive as the action. A quiet moment between Renner and Olsen when he explains why he's doing what he's doing for her is one of the seminal moments in film so far this year. Likewise, the way Olsen bottles and chortles up her emotions for a good majority of the film- finally allowing them overtake her in the penultimate scene- is so moving because its timed perfectly to allow the breathless, swooning violence of the previous few scenes gently settle over her. Like Emily Blunt shaking and washing the blood out of her hair in "Sicario", its okay for women to cry in Sheridan's universe.... just not when the shit hits the fan or when other people are around to judge your frazzled self.

If, ultimately, most of the wisdom is dispensed from Renner's Corey and he enjoys some of the more applauded moments of last-minute entrances, "Wind River" remains a companion piece about two people from vastly different worldviews learning that the world can be a literal and figurative cold place. It's also an extremely sad film about loss. During the opening of the film, a girl's voice recites a poem. Only later do we learn its probably not the voice of the girl violently running through the snow, but the disconnected voice of another lost person. It's said it doesn't matter who the poem is written to, only who its from. With "Wind River", Sheridan has crafted a masterpiece with the same prevailing wisdom.

Wednesday, August 09, 2017

The Current Cinema 17.7

Dunkirk

As he's so masterly done since his debut feature almost twenty years ago, Christopher Nolan's penchant for the manipulation of time features prominently in his WWII feature, "Dunkirk". Literally suspending the rigors of war across three distinct and overlapping timelines (land, sea and air), it's a technical gambit that, in other hands, could be problematic. However, in Nolan's radical conceptualization, "Dunkirk" is essentially a silent film with sporadic bursts of dialogue that imposes the idea of time being the strictest enemy against his relatively anonymous cast of men desperately running away (and towards) the waning vestiges of combat. Refusing to carve out a central figure of empathy (although Tom Hardy's ace fighter pilot comes the closest thing to a hero the film has, including a momentous bow), "Dunkirk" is even more radical for the way it drops us in the midst of war and allows us to experience the waves of anger, desperation, intelligence, cowardice and loyalty that ebbs and flows over its young men facing a dark hour of the war. I find this more honest and revealing than so many other war films that impose a facade of heroism on its characters. In a war that spanned so many years and re-wrote both the internal and external geography of so many men, women and landscapes, "Dunkirk" feels all the more courageous.


Atomic Blonde

Suckered into this twisty, fluorescent thriller because of the trailers featuring a butt kicking Charlize Theron is just one of the many pleasures of David Leitch's "Atomic Blonde". Technically, the film is pretty spectacular. And if spy thrillers derived from a pulpy graphic novel featuring the skulduggery of Berlin's waning Cold war days, then its even better. Highly enjoyable.


A Ghost Story

As a David Lowery devotee- from his early experimental short films to the languid, country-fried fatal romanticism of his masterpiece "Ain't Them Bodies Saints"- I've willfully absorbed everything he's done. Yet, with his latest film "A Ghost Story", he leaves me wanting for the first time. When it focuses on the patient yearning between young couple Rooney Mara and Casey Affleck, it soars. Watch as Mara listens to Dark Rooms "I Get Overwhelmed" and the way her eyes and face subtly hold back the ruptures of emotion that threaten to overtake her. When the film wanders into a ponderous meditation on time and the residual emotions of those left behind (i.e. the now infamous image of Casey Affleck wearing a bed sheet with holes for the eyes), it becomes woefully pretentious and strained. I understand the grand gestures filmmaker Lowery was reaching for, but it mostly left me cold.


First Kill

Low grade thriller with Bruce Willis. At the very least, it's one of the better things director Steven Miller has done. Full thoughts at Dallas Film Now





Thursday, August 03, 2017

Cinema Obscura: Demons (aka Shura)

Toshio Matsumoto's follow-up to his avant-garde-shot-across-the-bow "Funeral Parade of Roses" (1969) was this bleak, nocturnal samurai revenge epic titled "Demons". Released in 1971, "Demons" couldn't be more different than that debut feature. Where that earlier film seemed to exist as a fly-on-the-wall experiment- blending Godardian nouvelle vague and queer cinema theatrics into a student film like adrenaline rush- "Demons" is measured and even patient at times, wallowing in its inky black and white images as if Akira Kurosawa wanted to get very dark....literally and figuratively. But this patience is often shattered by shocking acts of violence. Always a fan of the spurting squib effect, Matsumoto and "Demons" uses the sword and its devastating impact on the human body to angry effect. Throat slashing and quick swipes to the chest are felt and experienced quite unlike any other samurai film. And then there's the twisting Shakespearean acts of deceit and revenge that ultimately take hold and push the film's unrepentant ronin Gengobei (Katsuo Nakamura) farther and farther into the darkness. "Demons" may be a sophomore film for a director who left behind only four feature titles, but it places Matsumoto in the hallowed echelon of Japanese New Wave directors who not only successfully regurgitated an emblematic moment of their nation's history, but managed to graft something exciting onto the shadows of the past as well.

And shadowy may be the best description for "Demons". Without a hint of daylight observed once during the entire film, "Demons" is a film whose characters exist in a netherworld or purgatory. Gengobei himself is a lost samurai, devoid of his rightful place serving his master and involved with a geisha named Koman (Yasuko Sanjo). When Gengobei comes into possession of money that will buy back his rightful place in the ronin contingency, Koman spins an elaborate charade to rob him along with her lover Sangoro (Juro Kara). Unwittingly setting in motion a series of violent confrontations, double-crosses and seething retribution, "Demons" obliges its dark aesthetic by pulling no punches in its savagery. Just witness what fate Matsumoto (and writer Nanboku Tsuruya whose play the film is based on) hold for even the most innocent of children.

Choosing to call itself "Demons" seems perfectly apt. The opening scene of the film observes a group of people running through the darkness carrying lanterns..... discombulated bodies swallowed up by the night as the only thing visible are the lanterns bobbing and weaving as they move. This eerie yet calculated image sets the tone for a film that refuses to give light to anyone. It's as if everyone involved has already sunk into the netherworld, becoming remorseless carbon copies of themselves. Demons. And like his transvestite youngsters in "Funeral Parade of Roses", they're living a life they've accepted on the margins of reality. It may not be pretty, but at least its true to them.






Wednesday, July 19, 2017

The Current Cinema 17.6

Baby Driver


Billed as the best heist/getaway movie since.... well name any one from the past 25 years and that's the reception being given Edgar Wright's latest adenalized feature, "Baby Driver". It's also a musical, of sorts, combining an impressive swath of pop/rock/hip hop and classical tunes against a violent narrative of bank robbers and lonely getaway drivers in the concrete jungle of Atlanta. It's still not a very good movie, despite all those things just mentioned. Any pleasures to be gained from Wright's finger snap editing of image and musical notes is overwhelmingly drowned out by monotone characters, cheap diversions of the crime genre and a sadistically overwrought final third.



Endless Poetry

A singular vision from a singular filmmaker like Jodorowsky. Full review on Dallas Film Now.



The Little Hours

Written and directed by Jeff Baena, The Little Hours owes much to the comedy of Monty Python or the sanctimonious subversion of Luis Bunuel and Pasolini. Loosely based on a couple of stories from “The Decameron,” it doesn’t make much sense to try and make literal connections. The film is its own beast. Deftly paced and breathlessly acted by all involved (especially a late appearance by Fred Armisen that had me in stitches), it’s a film that understands its purpose of fully formed characters and well designed situational laughs.Full thoughts at Dallas Film Now.



Thursday, July 06, 2017

If I Programmed a Film Festival #5

Haven't done one of these in quite a while. The mood has struck.



The Itsamadmadblog Film Festival, July 2017 edition

Day 1


Opening Night Premier: "A Ghost Story" (2017), directed by Texas native David Lowery


Regional Filmmaking Feature: "Bomb City" (2017), directed by Jameson Brooks


The Auteur Series, Japanese Master edition featuring Yoshitaro Nomura: "Castle of Sand" (1974)


Midnight Madness feature: "Family Portraits" (2003), directed by Douglas Buck


Day 2

Quasi science fiction from Europe series: "Deathwatch" (1980), directed by Bertrand Tavernier


Premiers day:

"Wind River" (2017), directed by Taylor Sheridan

"GoodTime" (2017), directed by the Safdie Brothers

"You Were Never Really Here" (2017), directed by Lynn Ramsey


Regional Filmmaking feature: "A Teacher" (2013), directed by Hannah Fidell


The Auteur Series, Japanese Master edition featuring Yoshitaro Nomura: "Writthing Tongue" (1982)


Quasi science fiction from Europe series: "Until the End of the World" (1991), by Wim Wenders


Midnight Madness: "Inside" (2007), directed by Julian Maury and Alexandro Bustillo



Day 3


The Auteur Series, Japanese Master edition featuring Yoshitaro Nomura: "Village of 8 Gravestones"


"In the Fade" (2017), directed by Fatih Akin


Quasi science fiction from Europe series: "France, Inc" (1973), directed by Alain Corneau


The Auteur Series, Japanese Master edition featuring Yoshitaro Nomura: "The Incident" (1978)


Quasi science fiction from Europe series: "On the Silver Globe" (1988), restored edition directed by Andrzej Zulawski


"Call Me By Your Name" (2017), directed by Luca Guadagnino

"Radiance" (2017), directed by Naomi Kawase



Closing Night Film: 70 MM presentation of "Dunkirk" (2017) with Christopher Nolan in attendance