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Chalk What we get to see here are personality clashes, an unfulfilled romance, inept teachers. There were a few funny lines and situations, but compared to your typical, run-of-the-mill, garden variety mockumentary, there's not a whole lot to laugh at or to appreciate the satire of in this film. Droll is being kind. What Chalk doesn't address: violence; drugs; sex and STDs; low pay; political backstabbing; poor food in the cafeteria and vending machines causing childhood obesity; poor grades throughout the nation, especially compared to foreign countries and especially Japan; administration at odds with teaching staff; teachers forced to teach subjects in which they know nothing (my art teaching sister was forced to teach math -- a true injustice to her students). What, nothing funny there, nothing relevant, nothing to satirize? All the teachers are young and white. Obviously, a few very short scenes were shot in an actual teachers' lounge where teachers of various ages and ethnicities may brief comments. This film did very
well at Cinequest, Florida Film Festival, IFF Boston, Gen Art Film Festival,
Jacksonville Film Festival, Los Angeles Film Festival -- which goes to
show, seeing olive leaf branches and the word Winner in the print ads
and on the commercials, does not mean a film is good. Conspicuously absent
are recognizable festivals like Cannes, Berlin, Toronto, Sundance (which
I tend to distrust), SF International or any other festival whose name
we recognize. Bottom line: not enough yuck for the buck. Delirious What do you think of if I say "a movie written and directed by Tom DiCillo and starring Steve Buscemi"? Of course, "Living in Oblivion," one of the greatest ironic, funny and smart exposés of the world of independent filmmaking. Now, what other satiric mountains can they climb, what untapped subculture to scrutinize with a wry, witty and scathing eye? This time, "Delirious" probes the world of celebrity and the paparazzi. Buscemi is a near-do-well paparazzi photographer (just wait till he makes the rounds with his portfolio and starts getting the classy assignments). DiCillo must have written "Delirious" with Buscemi in mind; clearly, no one else could have taken on this role as brilliantly, frenetically, and with as much dry humor as Buscemi. DiCillo's writing is hysterically smart; Buscemi's delivery is seriously neurotic. His character is completely unaware that what he is saying is ironic and self-contradictory. The difference between brilliance and vanity is clearly seen if you contrast "Delirious" with "Interview." Buscemi wanted a role counter to his best abilities. He wanted to play a serious, dramatic role in which he intrigues a beautiful woman. That's "Interview," and he had to write and direct it himself because nobody else would ever waste him in that kind of part. DiCillo fully utilizes Buscemi's talents in "Delirious." Sorry, Steve, no intellectual and romantic confrontations for you. Your fate lies elsewhere. It's hard to make a paparazzi the protagonist of a film and expect the audience to sympathize. Added to the low life character of the job, the individual is also selfish, self-deceptive, manipulative, angry and overall a not-too-attractive person. But Buscemi takes you inside the tormented mind of the man (Les) who has little talent, no breaks, and way too much smarts. He has to justify his failures to himself; he has to keep on keeping on. He meets up with a street urchin named Toby (Michael Pitt) and takes him in. Toby sleeps in Les' closet and gets fed, and in return he becomes Les' assistant. The fates look favorably on Toby and wondrous opportunities open up for him, like sunshine breaking through the clouds after a storm. Toby drifts from opportunity to opportunity, never blowing it because he is essentially good and considerate. Les' fury and anguish build with the recognition of every grace bestowed to Toby while he, Les, continues to trog in the gutter living from hand to mouth with no glimmer of hope on the horizon. All this takes place in Tribeca and Soho in Southern Manhattan, the latest hot spot for artists, celebrities and up-and-comers. We see into the pampered lives of celebrities and the worker bees who exist only to fulfill every wish these brats come up with. Still we feel a slight bit of sympathy for the plight of the young, beautiful, and rich. Well, very little, actually, but we do. We drift with Toby from a sidewalk encounter with a celebrity needing a bit of a rescue, to backstage parties, to the bedroom of the same young, gorgeous Britany-of-the-moment celebrity, to moving in with a big time casting director, to reality show fame to being the object of paparazzi himself. And we watch Les slide deeper and deeper into jealousy, despair and revenge. If any of you are
interested in the world of celebrity, gossip, star making, young hunks
- male and female, and, of course, the consummate comedic skills of Steve
Buscemi, you can't miss "Delirious." Starting
Out In The Evening I recently saw Resurrecting the Champ, review below, which depicts a man's descent from almost winning the world boxing championship to being a homeless, friendless, abused, unhealthy wreck of his former self. Starting Out In The Evening is another study on an aging man's loss. In this case, Leonard Schiller (Frank Langella) is a retired professor and writer of four once well-known novels. His works are being forgotten; within another generation, they will be completely lost since they are already out of print. In a scene that takes place at a book opening party, a publisher vaguely recalls his works and refers to the group of writers with which he was identified as those white men in suits who go to bed early. And indeed, even though long retired, he still wears a suit and tie, and now out of necessity rather than habit, he goes to bed early. A young graduate student, Heather Wolfe (Lauren Ambrose), has read his books. She was particularly moved by his first two, soft and sympathetic, lyrical and romantic, and she wants to write her master's thesis on his oeuvre, as it were. He allows her into his home to interview him, but their several-months-long relationship turns personal, even invasive, probing his innermost feelings, and it even turns romantic. Oh, a young woman's lust for the young hero of the books that have moved her most, even "change her life" -- only she meets him 30 years after his youth has left him. Besides her own youthful exuberance in meeting her literary hero, she is manipulative and dangles the carrot of renewed fame before him. "When my thesis is published, there will be renewed interest in your books and they will be republished." So, he continues to meet with her, continues to write his next novel, 10 years in the making, and continues to age. He also has a daughter (Lili Taylor) who has successfully overcome her resentment over her father's absence during her formative years, locked away in his study writing his books. But she hasn't found it as easy to resign herself to never having children because her boyfriend is adamant on the subject. Her biological time clock is not only ticking, the alarm is sounding and a choice has to be made. It was wonderful listening to very smart people talk to each other. They don't use particularly big words, they just use words to their best advantage. They say what they mean, and so much more. It was calming, visiting the Upper West Side of New York, the area set aside for writers, intellectuals, college professors and journalists. The book-lined walls, overstuffed chairs made for long hours of quiet reading, contemplation and listening to pre-19 Century classic music, the telling wine red walls, all created a safe, uterine environment where people speak softly and don't waste words on chatter. Leonard Schiller is not angry or desperate because his books, his life's work, will soon be lost. Even the book he is in the process of writing suffers a dismal future. "I have followed my characters for 10 years, and they don't do anything interesting." Also, his genetic line will be over with his daughter since she will likely not have children. Leonard Schiller is resigned. He does seem to accept going out with a whimper rather than a bang. He does accept his fate. Should I feel any worse for either of these two men: Schiller the white man who had a successful career that died before he did; or Bob Satterfield (Samuel L. Jackson) in Resurrecting the Champ, the African-American almost-champ reduced to eating out of dumpsters and getting pummeled on a regular basis by college kids with too much testosterone and too little morals? What a stupid question!
Why did I even ask it? Of course, all our hearts should go out to Satterfield
and everyone else in this most marginalized, distressed and dangerous
situation. We should be outraged that people can be sloughed off and abandoned
in this society -- though it seems we've become complacent. Might have
something to do with this administration. If there is a contest -- what
movies should we see based on the need of the characters -- then Resurrecting
the Champ wins hands down. But film isn't only about the most extreme
situations, the most needy people, the most beautiful people, the most
dangerous people, etc. It is, and should be, about the human condition
in all its ramifications -- from an ex-boxer's lonely life on the street
to an old writer's relationship with his daughter -- both contemplating
their mortality. There are valid humanities in both, and we need to be
reminded of them. I found Schiller's experiences as valid as Satterfield's,
the lessons to be learned as enriching, the similarities between them
more striking than their differences. Resurrecting
the Champ If you think you'd enjoy a film about a young, handsome, up-and-coming sports journalist who catches a lucky break which enables him to turn around a stalled career only to confront a conflict of conscious, this film is for you. Josh Hartnett is to Resurrecting the Champ what Tom Cruise was to Jerry Maguire. He does a more than adequate job -- I watched closely this time to see if he could act or was only a pretty boy who could do a passable job. And I love that he's deeply in love with a woman a good 4 years old than him and at a higher position in the newspaper where they both work. And it's not an issue in the film. Brava. If that's all you want from this film, then you'll get it, but you will be blown away by how much more you're going to get! Turns out Hartnett's lucky break is running into Samuel L. Jackson. Ours, too, because you won't see a better performance this year, or any other year. Jackson plays a homeless bum, at first glance, who turns out to be an ex-prize fighter who came very close to being the Champ. Jackson finds within himself not only the gentle falsetto of an ancient Mike Tyson and the bouncy feint and rebound walk of a Mohammad Ali in his prime, but a sharp wit and seasoned storyteller peppered with the moments of brain-damaged spacy gazes. This man is in his 70's, maybe 80's, having been in his prime in 1954 and even extreme close-ups on Jackson's aged, weathered and bruised face can only be partially attributed to the latest advances in special effects make-up. This is more than an outstanding performance, not only for all the characteristics combined to make the man, but the total is so much more than the sum of its parts. He is a sorrowful, yet proud man, humorous, gentle, astute, and empathetic. I may not want to stand close to him -- I can even smell his performance -- but my heart goes out to him. I want to help him, I want to believe him. And that's just what Hartnett does. He believes Jackson who tells the tale of his prizefighting career. Having gotten close to the title, but loosing his chance at the title, having become a superior fighter in the Midwest where the competition is less experienced, having been conned by his manager and left penniless and half blind, having deserted his wife and son, having ended up on the street near the arena where he was once famous. Hartnett writes his story which ends up on the cover of the magazine section of the Sunday paper. Hartnett is riding high as his career skyrockets, but what of the fallout? What did Josh turn a blind eye to? This is not a story of the sport of prize fighting, even though the ugly facts of how the business abuses its champions -- through dishonest practices and through just the hard knocks and health problems these champions receive. Mohammed Ali is only the most famous of the victims of being battered for years, even though he won the fights. It's about fathers wanting the respect of their sons (as much as sons want the respect of their fathers); it's about seeing more than just what one wants to see and doing the right thing; it's about honesty versus a more personal truth. p.s. Keep an eye out
for Peter Coyote's short scene as an old fight manager. Unrecognizable,
brilliant, best of his career. Stardust So, which plot shall it be for this latest, big budget, special effect, fantasy? A young man adventuring to unknown lands to bring back proof to the fickle village beauty that his love is true? Shall three princes seek out an amulet which bestows the kingdom upon the first among them to find it? Shall an evil, aging Witch, hunt down a lovely young girl who can make said Witch and her two sisters young and beautiful again? All fairytale staples. Stardust seamlessly weaves all the plots together. It's fast paced without being frenetic. The special effects are beautiful to watch -- from the opening shot of the moon, it's reflection traveling down an observatory telescope, to the eye of a 19th Century astronomer, through to an ancient wall that separates the world familiar to humans and that of witches and fantasy. The landscape is not so majestic as that of Middle Earth, but more familiar as an extension of the English countryside, only it's culture and physical laws are governed by fairytale logic. Young Tristan (Charlie Cox), whose background is a mystery, is smitten by Victoria (Sienna Miller). She only sees him as a shopboy. They spot a falling star and Tristan vows to find that star and bring it back to prove his love. Meanwhile, but moments earlier, far away in the kingdom of Stormhold, the King (Peter O'Toole), lies on his deathbed and tells his 3, no 4, no 3, remaining sons that the one who captures the red stone amulet will be heir to the thrown. He releases the stone, with chain, in a pretty garish setting, from around his throat and it flies into the sky, colliding with a star. In a spectacular supernova, both rush back to earth, creating a really cool crater. At another part of the kingdom, three haggard old witches see the star falling. One of them, Lamia (Michelle Pfeiffer) must go and retrieve the star, which/who is now in the form of a young girl, Yvaine (Claire Danes), bring her back, take out her heart, eat it, and become young again. See how nicely this all weaves together. Of course, we all know how it will work out, but the journey is truly entertaining. Michelle Pfeiffer is still the most gorgeous women... anywhere, anytime. Do I praise her too highly? It's just my opinion. She is radiant and timeless. To her credit, she allows the makeup department to wreck havoc on her. She starts out old and ugly. Uses up the last bit of star juice left from the witches last victim so she has the strength to hunt down the new fallen star. Each use of magic takes away a bit of that newfound youth and supple skin. It really is awful to watch Pfeiffer wither, especially on wide screen. I winced at every age spot on her hand There is a lot of humor in this film, not all understandable by children, but very much appreciated by us adults. One might even categorize this film as a fantasy/comedy based on the generous use of humor throughout. Other mature content include a one night stand encounter, sacrificial animals just off screen with guts dangling from fingers, fratricide, animal mauling, suggestions of rape, disfigured ghosts. This might disturb the young ones, but it's great fun for us. Ergo the PG-13 rating. Another highlight is Robert De Niro as a captain of a flying ship that captures lightening. Commerce in lightening is strictly illegal which makes him and his crew pirates of the high .... sky. He lends a hand and some wardrobe to our hero and heroine after having plucked them from a cloud. I'm always uncomfortable with De Niro being funny, but I'll let it go this time. He is written well and mugging is acceptable in these circumstances. Claire Danes is the star and plays it with enough moxie, sensibility and gentility to be a real personality and one we root for. Too often in movies, I don't see why two people fall in love with each other, other than they're the only ones there. Here, I see the chemistry, the appeal, and the love growing between her Yvaine and Tristan. It makes heart sense, if you know what I mean. Peter O'Toole even showed up as the dying king of Stormhold and played it with as much verve and professionalism as for any king written by Shakespeare. What a treat! Here's a hint about overall film quality -- if a production can get big name stars to attach themselves, then something's got to be really good about. Of course, this doesn't guarantee a great film, but for De Niro, Pfeiffer and O'Toole to cross genres, it's got to have something going for it. For instance, Sean Connery was happy to work for a relative unknown Terry Gilliam for his fantasy "Time Bandits" based on the script. John Cusack signed on to work in the ghostly horror flick, "1408," so you could bet it wouldn't be typical schlock. If you
like fantasy, romance, soft action -- meaning no blood (a 93 year old
man karate chopping a young man and sending him home is a violent highlight)
-- Stardust is a great excursion. Rocket
Science I have to say it -- this is not another teen movie. There are no cliques, no football team, no cheerleaders, no singled-out nerds, no bullies, no massacres, no Heathers. In "Rocket Science" we get down to true struggles teens have to face. How do you overcome your embarrasment if you stutter, or even overcome your stutter? How do you deal with an intimidating brother who is, at the same time, a thief and obsessive compulsive -- "Don't mess with the things I steal!" How do you roll with your mother and father breaking up, and a Korean small claims judge and his son moving in? To complicate things even more, one day, on the school bus, our protagonist, Hal Hefner (Reece Daniel Thompson) is approached by a girl who is in the debating team. She convinces him to join the team. Hal can barely say N n n no no no. He's the guy who can't even say "pizza" on the lunch line and always gets the "general fish." She says "Deformed people are the best, maybe it's because they have a deeper resource of anger," and she can see the spark of intelligence behind his eyes. What would you do? If you believe the line Hollywood movies sell you, you'd buy her story, join the debating team, do the best you could, and, of course, win the State Debating Cup and become a high school hero. Ah, but this is an independent film. So, your choices are not so easy. This is not a gritty drama, not a raucous comedy, though it has an abundance of dry wit delivered with deadpan seriousness. The director, Jeffrey Blitz, is having a go at his first narrative feature after having received critical and box office praise for his documentary about elementary school spelling bees, "Spellbound." There are a lot of similarities between theses subject matters. Both spelling bees and debates require keen minds, endless practice and research, have heated competitions, and are just about useless in real life. Just like knowing how to spell a word used by mining engineers in Northumberland, compressing 8 minutes of discussion about a topic into 10 seconds is utterly useless. Check out the upcoming Presidential debates - the candidates talk like actors, convince, lie about the issues, lie about their opponents, smile, tell jokes, and don't sweat. These children are taught to research the subject and use cogent argument, and talk so quickly that no one listening can keep up with what they're saying. Blitz loves to explore useless talents for very smart children. Back to our story. Hal, barely able to communicate, small, coming from a recently broken home, living with a disturbed brother (Vincent Piazza), is already disadvantaged. And he is asked by school debate celebrity, Ginny (Anna Kendrick), to overcome literally everything in one school season -- possibly to win her heart and the cup. After having worked with his speech therapist -- who really specializes ADT -- including deep breathing exercises, whispering, using accents, and singing, he is no closer to the voice locked inside his head. My heart went out to him. I wracked my brain to come up with a solution for him. Sure I thought of sex; it was touched upon, but still was not the panacea. Kudos to Reece Daniel Thompson for pulling off a very difficult stutter, and to all the actors inhabiting a slightly absurd, deadpan world with believability. From our frustrated hero to the coldest and most manipulating of the characters, we are offered insights into the problematic vagaries of life -- hey, it shouldn't be as difficult as rocket science. The
Bourne Ultimatum I like action movies as much as the next girl. I like really fast, dizzingly quick cut, fist fights. I like chases over roofs and guys jumping from rooftop to rooftop and through windows. I like watching Matt Damon driving a small motorcycle up a wall. I like to see lots of exotic backdrops like Madrid, Paris, Moscow, Tangiers, New York City, I like car chases and crashes, really nasty crashes, unbelievably violent crashes. And I love to see Bourne walk out of the torn metal remains of the car with a couple of scratches on his face. My stomach can handle the jumpy camera during quiet conversations just so the sense of action is uninterrupted when the obligatory plot is explained - sort of. Hell, why let a plot get in the way? Bourne still hasn't regained his memory, although he has flashes of white hallways, Albert Finney, having his head bagged, and taking a forced dip. Bourne still wants to find out who he really is and why the CIA wants to kill him. He slowly finds out -- over the course of unnecessary meetings with people who are surveilled by the CIA who are trying to catch up with him to kill him. Walls of screens in CIA headquarters light up with shots from cameras tied in directly from every surveillance camera in the world, sound pumps in from invisible mics planted all over the world. Agents appear within seconds, ready to kill this guy, but willing to kill anyone he's contacting. Why? Don't ask. This is an American action movie and we're here for the ACTION. I bet absolutely no one who sees "The Bourne Ultimatum" gives a hoot why anything is happening, just as long as it keeps happening. And it happens, and happens and happens -- a solid 111 minutes of action. Does Bourne know anything more about himself by the end of the film? Yes, a bit, but who cares! 2
Days in Paris After having seen "Interview" and "Trees Lounge," vanity productions by Steve Buscemi, and several other stars' self-made vehicles, I felt Julie Delpy, the true owner of this film, has shown commendable restraint. She even gives her co-star, Adam Goldberg, top credit. It's not about her in a room with her boyfriend, duking it out for 90 minutes. There are no deep, existential conflicts, nor is this film an outright tribute to Delpy's beauty and talent. And though it's advertised as a culture conflict about an American guy dealing with language problems and cultural differences in Paris among is girlfriends parents and friends, I found it much more a problem of a guy dealing with his girlfriend's ex-boyfriends who may want her back and her parents possibly laughing at him in French to his face. This rather dysfunctional couple is stopping in Paris, Delpy's protagonist Marion's hometown, for the weekend on their way home to New York from a vacation in Greece. Goldberg, as her boyfriend Jack, continues to play his most familiar character: snide, neurotic, angry, sharp tongued, acidic and morose. What is hard to comprehend is why Marion likes Jack, let alone has been living with him for two years. Actually, this film could just as easily have been called "2 Years with Jack." As happens when one visits home, one runs into many old friends and ex-boyfriends. Confronted by the old gang, not only does Marion start to wonder if she has made the right decision being with her American boyfriend, but he wonders if she is a world class slut who wonders if she made the right decision being with him. Interesting, if depressing situation. She seems rather unsympathetic to him in his disadvantageous position, even callous. But one must remember, for the past 2 years Marion has been an French woman in New York. I wonder if she confronted the same problems in New York, especially when she first moved there and her English may not have been so good, or when she first got involved with Jack and ran into his exes. No mention is made of that. Their constant bickering seems well established and we can assume that's how they always behave together, and I keep feeling it would be best for both of them to break up and get on with their lives with more compatible mates. That has little to do with nationality. Also, I've never seen arguing couples defuse and get on to the next subject as easily as Marion and Jack, as if the issues weren't important, only the bouts of anger and misunderstanding. It is said a movie fails if the audience feels no compassion for its protagonists. I did -- I desperately wanted them to break up and end the suffering, perhaps mine. Of course, that's not the "movie" approach, that's not the popular belief about how movies should proceed with plots, but come on -- don't couples' therapists ever say, "You two really don't have a chance. Let it go."? Delpy's true life parents, Marie Pillet and Albert Delpy, are outrageous, yet believable at the same time. Mom's extreme emotional moods and Dad's anger at cars that are parked on the sidewalk and jubilation at the butcher's stalls at the marketplace may have been formative causes of their daughter's character and later choice in men. Just guessing. These real life parents brought all the sparkle, energy and humor to the film. They both have acting careers going back over 30 years in France. Young Julie's talent was genetically unavoidable, yet strangely, she doesn't look like either of them. She is gorgeous (not to say her parents weren't attractive in their youth), Paris is gorgeous, Goldberg acts himself proud. As to Delpy's skills are a director, producer, editor, I can't say. I'm just a typical viewer and don't know how to separate one from the other skill. As a whole, it was a story about two lovers trying to make it work in difficult circumstances (being more about staying with the parents and confronting old loves than cultural differences). Visually, it's always pleasant taking strolls with film characters through the streets of Paris, even though to me one Bar Tabac looks pretty much like another. We seemed to get stuck in the middle of the film for a long time with examples of Marion's ex-lovers wanting her back (careful, ego) and Jack getting more and more pissed off. We seem to have too many examples of Marion's socially motivated anger with cab drivers and others, and each one took a little too long. But I think Delpy struck home when it came to insecurities, jealousy and regret in relationships. As for her music score -- I can't remember it. And that's a good sign since music in films should add to the mode and carry it along without being overbearing and obvious. As for her being one of the producers of the film, success. The film is now playing. Live-In
Maid
(Cama Adentro) I could never have a live-in maid -- seeing me sit around playing with my computer, brushing my dog, watching TV, while she worked. Even when I have someone come in to help around the apartment, I tend to work with her or at least look busy. Cleaning up after myself is not below me; it's part of my philosophy, and that follows right into recycling and guardianship of the planet. But some women see having a maid, especially a live-in maid, a badge of superiority -- both financial and social. And Beba, the lady-of-a-certain-age in "Live-In Maid", is the epitome of upper class attitude. But coming with that sense of upper class noblesse oblige, comes total dependency on the serving class. Poor Beba can't even apply a Band-Aid by herself. Comes a reversal of fortune, through divorce and a downswing in the Argentine economy, Beba finds herself forced to sell cosmetics shop-to-shop and door-to-door. She hocks her valuable possessions to maintain her apartment, but she can no longer afford to pay her maid of 28 years, Dora. Dora has put up with this situation because of a misplaced sense of loyalty or because she believes if she leaves, she won't get the back pay she's owed. I believe she also feels that Beba has become her responsibility and is dependent on her for the most basic needs. But as Beba's debt to Dora mounts, even the small acts of friendship -- like taking Dora to a salon for a hair style or applying cosmetic mud to her face as a beauty treatment -- can't compensate for the humiliations Dora must face on a daily basis. I am so relieved when Dora walks out -- to reign in her lazy husband, to get work finished on the house she has been building, and to get another job, preferrably not as a live-in maid. As for Beba, let her live in a home with dirty windows till she figures out how to clean them, let her get a better paying job, let the fates have her. As much as I may feel for her and her situation, how can I pity her for being in the same situation as the rest of us -- having to take care of herself? It is interesting to see how Beba and Dora deal with their new situations and how their decades old commitment to each other finds resolution. This movie is almost as slow as real time, so take your time in watching it. The changes to the characters are subtle. And take your time with the subject matter. Perhaps we don't have to deal with the problems of mistress-maid relationships, but we do have to deal with relationships and this one really isn't so different. The
Ten What a wacky, raunchy, insightful piece of work. Maybe in my old age I'm becoming a prude, maybe I always was, or maybe this stuff is just over the top -- I was squirming in my seat, but laughed instead of left because it all meant something. I'm not saying the shocking raunch had to be in the film for it to get its ideas across. I'm saying I accepted it because it paid back. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall of the meetings Wain and Marino had with some very big Hollywood stars to convince them to be in this film. Ah, here's a question that has precious little to do with the film -- why are there 10 Commandments, but only 7 deadly sins? Wasn't God serious about the Commandments or could you weigh them and make your own decisions? Actually, that is what the film is about. "The 10" Commandments and crossing them or not. So, a writer, Jeff Reigert, played by Paul Rudd, introduces the audience to the ten stories that will depict an odd view of dealing with each of the Commandments. Many of the characters flit from one story to another though it's not actually a repertory type format. For instance (and there are far to many plot lines to give you even a hit of them all), a man , Adam Brody, jumps out of a plane forgetting his parachute. He survives, buried chest deep into the ground. A doctor, Ken Marino (also co-writer and co-producer), declares that if the man is released from the tight soil, he will die. We then proceed to see the unsuccessful parachuter live his life semi-subterraneanly. The doctor appears in a later episode, or Commandment allegory. He has left a sharp medical instrument in a patient. He thinks it's hysterical. It's "a goof." She dies. He's defense continues to be, "It was a goof." Lief Schreiber is the investigating police officer who gives the doctor the third degree. The doctor is eventually convicted of murder and goes to jail. He is later seen in a third episode in prison dealing with covet thy neighbor's wife. I can say no more about that. Lief Schreiber latter re-appears in an episode of coveting thy neighbors
goods wherein he competes with his neighbor for possessing the most MRI
machines. One must really suspend one's disbelief to get the full effect.
Flow with it, let the stories and the absurdities lead you to religious
philosophy worth living by. Really. This is a trip and I want to see it
again. Becoming
Jane This is a film not taken from a book written by Jane Austin; it is taken from Jane Austin's life. Does this mean we have finally filmed all Austin's books twice or more already? Would she were more prolific.... Oh, it's not a terrible movie because it's not written by Austen. We have all the elements that make a good Jane Austin film: the poetic, witty language; the pretty, overly smart, young girl; the bucolic countryside dabbled with stately mansions; the empire costumes; the romance. But this is a perfect example of how people and events left to their own devices never turn out as perfectly as when constructed by a brilliant mind. Jane Austen's writing is better constructed then her life. We see the characters in their true life forms whom she would later perfect. She knew better than to leave them helter skelter, undirected, unruly. She condensed and refined the characters she knew in life and constructed clearer and more satisfying stories from them. That is not to say that "Becoming Jane" is the absolute biographical truth about Miss Austen's life. I truly hope not. But it is meant as an interpretation of her life and the inspiration for her novels. Let us not forget that in her times (late 18th, early 19th Centuries), women were not expected to write, nay, even read novels. They were not expected to work or earn money, except as governesses or prostitutes (both equally disrespected). Marrying, and hopefully marrying well, and then breeding, were all that could be hoped for in a woman's life. The rules of etiquette and the class system were sometimes insurmountable barriers to even these goals. In this climate, Jane Austen became a prolific, highly respected and affluent writer, and she didn't resort to a masculine nom de plume-- all this within her very brief life of 42 years. All women writers owe her a debt of gratitude. In tribute to Miss
Austen, I suggest you rent some of her best recreations on the screen:
My favorite is "Pride and Prejudice" (1940), starring Greer
Garson and Laurence Olivier. But have a look at her list of credits and
take your pick. http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000807/ After the first 15 minutes' of keeping close check of Yank Anne Hathaway's British accent (good enough), I settled back and played the gaming of finding characters in Jane's life that later became characters in her novels, and how they were combined and changed. I felt frustration, longing, joy and sadness with her; ergo, Hathaway did a good job. And as often happens, I disagreed with Miss Austen's choices. More than once, I have felt women in movies make the obvious choices, but not ones I personally would have found most satisfying. I felt lanky Laurence Fox, playing Mr. Wisley would have been a perfect match: his love for Jane, his perhaps drawn-out good looks, his inheritance, his manners. Heroines never go for that type. Where's the drama in that? Too bad she didn't have my taste. Then again, she might not have been driven to write her novels had she been a happy, secure wife. The
Nanny Diaries I feel we are not only 2 pay checks away from being on the street, but we're also only 2 pay checks from the Upper East Side. One invention out of a garage, one screenplay sales, being runner up on American Idol, giving a blow job to Hugh Grant. It's American and it's not just about 15 minutes of fame. It's about wealth. And Americans don't care about how old one's money is. I would go to Park Avenue parties as a teenager and no one checked my lineage at the door. Even J.K. Rowling only had to write a few brilliant books to be richer than the Queen, and she's certainly not banned from any country club due to the green-ness of her wealth. And she's English -- where the cast system still holds strong. The premise of The Nanny Diaries is that wealth is a different, foreign, unattainable culture. Perhaps the wealthy have attitude since they've got "it" and the rest of us don't. And there might be a bit of insecurity about losing "it." But my dad , a butcher by trade, read the newspaper at the breakfast table, just like Mr. X (played by Paul Giamatti, who has warmed our hearts in many films as a blue collar kind 'a guy, but who is a born blue bloo). See, it goes both ways. Though the press notes declare that Mrs. X (layed by Laura Linney, awarded many times for her performances as middle class wives) was born from money, but not having read the press notes, the audience could have just as easily believed she married up. And as for the Nanny herself, played by Scarlett Johansson, she probably looks and behaves much like the Sarah Lawrence girls; she just needs better shoes. I refuse to believe there is a class structure in America 'cause passage is too easily bought through it. As for people of color, it is touched upon in passing when one nanny tells our Nanny that she came to America for a better life for her child. For years she's been raising someone else's kid and neglecting her own. And the faces of nannies at a collective meeting with parents shows their fear, sense of subservience and hopelessness. I carry their expressions with me long after the sight gags in The Nanny Diaries are forgotten. This Nanny is not so different from the nanny in Uptown Girls -- unequipped to work at any other job; hardly able to work as a nanny; dealing with a spoiled, angry, neglected child; taking endless orders from the self-absorbed, busy yet jobless and also unloved mother. Both nannies take their charges around beautiful, exciting and perfectly weathered New York City and develop deep friendships with their respective kids. Both hate to leave their charges to the cold, empty environment afforded by their own families. Both learn from their experiences and become directed, happy, fulfilled adults. I guess life used to be harder, and cinematically more interesting. Can we ever forget Jane Eyre -- growing up in a brutal orphanage, taking care of a precious little girl who wakes her on her first morning in the country estate with a music box and a little ballerina dance? The drama, turmoil, dark histories of both main characters swept us up in their forbidden love. And more recently The Governess, starring Minnie Driver, told a tale of a Jewish woman in late 19th Century England who had to hide her identity and earn money to support her family when her father dies. Again, we meet the family of the manor: a loveless marriage between a frail wife and a husband who tinkers with the new invention of photography. The children in this story are almost inconsequential. Minnie becomes the husband's assistant in his photographic experiments and eventually his lover, all the time hiding her true identity. Meanwhile, in The Nanny Diaries, Scarlett's biggest problem while working for the X's is hiding the Harvard Hunk of a boyfriend who lives a few stories above in the same building, and hiding the fact from her mother that she's not really working for a financial institution. The stakes have gotten lower. Love is easier to find and keep. Decisions are easier to make. Outcomes are less drastic. This is much more realistic for today's world and much more relatable, but I personally miss the wind swept moors, the mad wife in the tower, the fire that destroys the Manor. I just didn't have the same problems Nanny had upon graduating. She didn't want to commit to a job in a cubicle and wear a suit and she didn't know what else to do. Neither did I -- so I just bummed around Europe for a few years. Here's a tie-in to the movie and my real life. I was once arrested in France for shoplifting. I told the police that I was doing an anthropological study on the hitch hiking culture in Europe and did what that culture does to survive. They laughed and let me go! The Nanny and I used our anthropology degrees very differently. Now, given the choice: French jail = being a Nanny..... I'll have to think about that. In
The Shadow of the Moon We've all but forgotten that men walked on the moon. It's been over a generation and in that time people assume it's no big deal to walk on the moon, we just don't do it now -- budgetary concerns, other priorities, no more space race, etc. Been there, done that. But oh what a time that was. In the midst of the Viet Nam war and the strongest dissent against the government since the revolutionary war, a promise made by President Kennedy shortly before his assassination was kept. A man will walk on the moon before the end of this decade - the 60's. "In the Shadow of the Moon" reminds us of the men who boarded those tin cigars, guided by computers a fraction as powerful as any laptop you can buy on craigslist today for under $200 and the best minds of our generation lined up in front of screens in Dallas. These astronauts themselves were unaware of what the right stuff was, but they truly had it. "We weren't afraid, but we were concerned." Hell, I was afraid just watching the old newsreel of the first 3 men climbing aboard -- to fly to the moon. So easy to say now. So unbelievable then. Ten astronauts are
interviewed, interspersed with film footage that has been remastered and
brightened up, much of it never having been seen before. And we are allowed
to relive their experiences of 38 years before. Aldrin, Bean, Cernan,
Collins, Duke, Lovell, Mitchell, Schmitt, Scott and Young, all from various
Apollo Missions, comment upon the moment to moment progress of their missions,
from their involvement in the plans and development of the rockets (remember
the argument for the window in "The Right Stuff"), to the strength
of the vibrations upon take off and the pendulum rocking caused by the
gimbaled engines always seeking equilibrium. They discuss their feelings
of guilt about being taken out of the war, their war, to become heroes
in the public's mind, a moniker they felt they didn't deserve. One even
comments about how he stopped for a moment on the ladder down to the moon
from the module -- to pee (of course, inside his spacesuit into the appropriate
apparatus) before stepping on the ground. And we get to watch that footage
as he relates the experience. Another highlight includes the nail biting
footage of the lunar module hooking up with the mother rocket for the
trip home. Without perfect timing for this rendezvous that even the astronauts
were in awe of, the moon walkers would still be there. A message of grief
for their loss was even written for Nixon to read in that contingency
-- and we hear it. Many of these men now speak of the spiritual, not necessarily
religious, changes they have undergone since their experiences off-planet.
These men are all soft
spoken, self effacing, humorous, sharp, and very clean older gentlemen.
And after relating their experiences and accomplishments in unadorned
and humble language, we see what the right stuff is. It's a combination
of bravery, razor sharp mindedness, resourcefulness, selflessness. Well,
that's also a definition of hero. The
Hunting Party I’ve never liked
movies that take actual events and throw fictitious stories over them.
Take “Pearl Harbor,” for instance. I couldn’t care less
about a made-up romance between ffictional characters during the day that
will live in infamy. It seems in very poor taste and I’d much rather
be a fly on the wall of the oval office the few days preceding the attack.
That’s much better filmmaking. During one news report,
though, in Sarajevo, Gere suffers a breakdown, gets emotional, offends
the UN, the Dutch and the TV network, and is duly fired. In the intervening
5 years, the war in Bosnia is over, Gere’s career is over, and he
lives from hand to mouth, selling stories to any TV station that will
give him a few hundred bucks each. Meanwhile Howard gets a cushy job in
the network studio, covering the Anchorman and traveling in style to shoot
“safe” stories. Gere and Howard meet up in Sarajevo for the
5th anniversary of peace in the Balkans and Gere convinces Howard
to come with him to find the biggest war criminal of that war,
a butcher who is hiding in the mountains and neither the UN, the Hague,
the CIA nor any other organization or individual has been able to get
near. So, I’m moved
by Richard Gere agonizing over his fall from network grace, hustling his
associates to do his bidding, fast talking his way out of dangerous situations,
reliving his loss of love, holding fast to the idea that he can and will
find this killer, even facing death with nobility/fear/anguish. Terrence
Howard also gives a fine performance as the sidekick who has moved on
and up, but who can’t help but get his hands dirty again even in
the face of insurmountable obstacles. The story line zigzags through the
many leads and misleads to the goal of finding their pray, including trips
to the mountains and encounters with volatile black-market racketeers.
No
Reservations Right off the bat, the restaurant in which Catherine Zeta-Jones plays the chef would be shut down immediately by the Board of Health. No chef hats! Well, the three black guys who do most of the cooking up against the back wall behind an array of tables and shelves wear what we call in the trade Schemata, tightly tied scarves. And the fast paced chefery they execute seems so akin to tap dancing that it conjures memories of the black tap dance routines of black troupes which punctuated the old Hollywood romantic musicals of the 1940's. Okay, I was feeling a bit uncomfortable. But at least Catherine and Aaron looked good without those silly stovepipe white chapeaus which are mandatory in the real world. Yes, I was waiting to hear complaints from the patrons of hair in their soup. Well, this is Hollywood doing what it does best: take one of the 27 stories (you know there are only 27 stories) and rewrite it for a new audience. No this is not a rehash (food pun) of 1997's "Baby Boom" in which Diane Keaton, a driven businesswoman who has no time for men takes in her orphaned niece, falls for the local vet (Sam Shepherd who looks like Aaron Eckhart's long lost father -- right down to the cleft chins), and learns how to live a complete life, including love, family and work. This movie is about a chef! Little points: BUT, as far as Hollywood Romantic Dramadies (HRD) go, if you like that sort of thing, you will like "No Reservations." It's got the aunt/orphan play montage and a couple of other montages as well. It's got likeable and attractive characters; even though Eckhart borders on obnoxious at the beginning, he softens over the course (little pun) of the film. We are comfortable with this genre; we know what to expect; we root for the lovers even though we know it's not necessary. Everything will work out just fine. We are entertained. "No Reservations" delivers. As for the obligatory rating: 9 if you like HRDs; 2 if you don't. What I like is of no consequence to you, right? Interview Read the credits: directed by, written by and starring one guy. Already I know this vanity piece is going to be about how seductive and intelligent this person is. Am I wrong? Buscemi did this once before: Trees Lounge (1996), written, directed and starring Steve. A very young girl must have him, I say, must have him! She finally grapples him to the floor and smothers him with wanton passion. Oh, please! I hate it when actors' fantasies of romantic appeal are played out on the screen -- at their expense-- monetarily and critically. We all love Steve as the quirky misfit that he is. Check out all his credits on IMDb.com. He is solidly embedded in American film legend, from Ghost World to Fargo, from Reservoir Dogs to Miller's Crossing. Steve, you don't have to prove yourself -- and you'll never convince me you're a romantic lead. I just found "Interview" uncomfortable. First, he's trying so hard to prove he is sophisticated (international war correspondent by the name of Pierre Peders, ugh!). Second, I know eventually he's going to kiss Sienna Miller. Again Ugh. Third, two-people-in-a-room dramas are to stagey, no matter how big the loft. We know we have to run the emitional gamut in 90 minutes. Let's see those changes of beat, improv work, goals of the scene, etc. So actors workshop. Oh, did I mention
Sienna is half Steve's age? What if Sienna were 50 and Steve 26? Moliere Summer isn't just for blockbusters. Films not dependent on special effects, either car crashes and mayhem, cartoon characters or magic, yet lush, funny, informative, historic and charming are out there. You might enter the theater thinking Moliere is the name of a magical place, amulet, or wizard and, though miffed by the experience, come out a couple of hours later, not unhappy, even exhilarated. You may not be familiar with the greatest French humorous playwright, actor and dramatist, but you will be enriched by catching up. I was first introduced to Moliere back in 1978 with the 4 hour and 20 minute version (40 minutes longer for the French TV version) which explored Moliere's whole life. There was even an intermission during the film to stretch one's leg and buy more refreshments. I dreaded going, but once entranced by Philippe Caubere's performance, or was it Moliere's life and the world he lived in?, I was hooked for the duration. I was looking forward to the same experience this time; Moliere had such an extraordinary life. In this 2007 version, we get to see only one summer that changed Moliere's direction -- from ambitions of being a great dramatic actor to changing the face of theater in France at the time (the mid-1700 Century). He was inspired that fateful summer to follow his true natural gifts in comedy. Theater still reverberates with his impact to this day. Moliere (Romain Duris) has been thrown in debtors' prison. He's a failure thus far in his career as a dramatic actor. A potential patron , M. Jourdain (Fabrice Luchini), offers to pay his debts and secure his release from prison on condition Moliere teach him, Jourdain, everything he, Moliere, knows about theater. Jourdain, though married to the beautiful and bright Elimire (Laura Morante), loves Célimène (Ludivine Sagnier), a young, beautiful, fashionable holder of salons at her estate. With trepidation and only longing to get back to Paris and his acting troupe, Moliere has no choice but to go with Jourdain to his sprawling country estate and teach this talentless buffoon the art of theater. Thus begins Moliere's journey into sel-f-awareness, love and loss -- it's really quite funny. Don't be put off if
you don't know anything about Moliere or 17th Century France. You don't
have to to appreciate, enjoy and laugh at Moliere's antics and genius.
The 1978 version is available on video. It's very likely you'll want to
see his whole life after you've shared this summer with him. Goya's
Ghosts This is not so much a biography of Goya, one of the greatest artists of his time, but a reflection of the turbulent times in which he lived. He is a viewer, a role he takes as artist painting the influential people who pay his fees and the people and places he encounters, and as a man personally unaffected by the Inquisition, the French army "liberating" the Spanish people (actually subjugating them to the will of the new French order), and the Spanish populace fighting back for their true independence. In this film, Goya (Stellan Skarsgard) has painted the portrait of a lovely young girl (Natalie Portman), the daughter of an affluent merchant. The Catholic Church, incensed by the rhetoric of a priest (Javier Bardem), re-instigates the most brutal tactics of the Inquisition which over the years had become milder and less threatening. Spies are sent out to find heretics and Jews among the good Christians. Portman is arrested because one evening in an inn she refuses to eat pork. It is suspected that she follows the tenants of the religion of her great grandmother, a Jew and a family secret Portman didn't even know about. Goya does what he can to help this lovely, innocent, young girl by talking to a powerful Priest (Bardem) whom Goya is painting. And so a trail of events begin. Through the last gasps of the Inquisition and it's victims, the scourge of the French army trampling through Spain and leaving a trail of death behind it, and the chaos that follows, Goya often thinks of the young girl, continues painting and eventually has another opportunity to help her. Okay, what do Americans know of European history? Don't tell me it doesn't effect our lives. It's knowledge, and if movies are the only opportunity to see an exciting, dreadful, colorful piece of history revealed, I say take advantage of it. Director Forman gave us Amadeus and many other looks into the histories, recent and remote, which do, in perhaps minute ways, effect our lives and contribute to who we are. Sure, it's an interpretation by the writer and director, but so are textbooks, based on the political times in which they are written and the political bent of the authors. Don't take your kids to this one. We are talking about the Inquisition, a Catholic means of eliminating anyone who chooses to think differently or who was seen as a threat, through torture, terrorism and genocide. The price of admission is worth the credit sequence alone at the end of the film in which the audience can gaze upon the great works of Goya enlarged to the size of a movie screen. Lucious! Sicko We all already know about the Managed Health Care system in America. Privately owned, these businesses make profits by denying medical care, and if the customer/patient dies, there's no one left to complain about it. This documentary is not about the poor, the disenfranchised, the illegal aliens, the homeless. It's about the great middle class of the United States who carry health insurance. The interviews of family members who have lost loved ones solely due to HMO denial is heartbreaking. The interviews of the ill, including heroes of 9/11, who are denied care through loopholes or just outright hubris is infuriating. The lies perpetrated by the health insurance corporations and our trusted government about socialized medicine as it exists in other industrialized, Western nations is simply beyond the pale. We follow U.S. citizens getting treatment and medicine in Canada, England, France and even Cuba, with little or no cost, with the primary concern being the health of the patient, with no interference by any money-earning body. Okay, I got the feeling that much of the Cuban segment was staged and rife with propaganda, but that the care and the system of medical treatment was authentic. So, do documentaries make a difference? Overwhelmingly, NO! If Bush was re-elected after Fahrenheit 9/11, then nobody changes his or her mind based on facts being uncovered. And it's not because Bush supporters didn't see the film; Moore had free screenings throughout Texas. People don't change their minds or their core values, based on movies. Do documentaries only preach to the choir -- in this case, even if our lives depend on it? Is it possible that parents of young men and women were still willing to send their children off to Iraq after having seen Fahrenheit 9/11? Yes, they did and do. You can say the vote was rigged in Florida. Yes, but Florida was only one state. Republicans all over the country still voted for him. You might say that the youth of America, mostly Democratic, don't vote. Yes, even after seeing Fahrenheit 9/11. Moore didn't get them to the polls. So, what's the point? Why bother? We already knew HMOs kill Americans. We know the Republicans like it that way. Nixon instigated the wholesale support of HMOs in American in the 1970's, after he was re-elected after being exposed as a thief and a crook in the Watergate debacle. Those of us who are "protected" by HMOs know how frustrating it is to receive health care. Now Moore lays it all out, with comparisons of other country's solutions. What do we do about it? Perhaps people do rally when they are awoken by a film. New legislation has passed locally to curb global warming. I heard in the news this morning that $25 million (a paltry sum compared to offense spending in Iraq) will be spent on research regarding clean vegetable-based fuel. How much did that have to do with Gore's "An Inconvenient Truth"? Our documentarians in the role of watchdogs must be heeded. Who else is unbiased. As showed in "Manufacturing Consent," Noam Chompsky exposed the influence, nay, control of press and TV news by multi-national corporations controlled by a small, powerful minority. And let us not forget to be wary of documentarians -- trust no one, but act against tyranny. PS - When going to foreign countries with national health, Moore was the only obese one seen in hospitals, restaurants, streets, anywhere. Michael, please take better care of yourself. Evan
Almighty You're going to laugh, but I was apprehensive throughout the film because I know the original Noah story: everybody and all the animals except the occupants of the ark drown. Really, I was feeling bad. How could a comedy wipe out all life on earth except for Steve Carrell, his family and the pairs of animals on board? Okay, this is a new slant on an old allegory. Just wanted you to know, we're not going to die. And interestingly, the evil guy, a typical Hollywood plot device played by John Goodman, is not in the least bit an exaggeration of the real thing. Evil is incarnate in the U.S. Senate, as I'm sure it is everywhere. I had to chuckle about that. The film is a pleasure to watch. It's great to see the ark being constructed on the field behind Evan's house. I love watching the animals: some helping out building, some patiently waiting to embark, some guarding the parameter from press, police, bulldozers and neighbors. And the anticipated "flood" was worth the wait. I don't even want to research how they did it. I don't want to divulge the magic. For this one, I am completely suspending my disbelief. God got it right this time: just make a point, don't eradicate! And in the spirit of the film, go to the website linked to "Evan Almighty," above, and make a $5 donation to plant a tree and add your name to the DVD. Not quite in stone, but it's only $5. It would be nice to replenish the forest for all the wood used in this film - which, by the way, was recycled.. Black
Sheep Imagine you're taking a walk in the idyllic, rolling, green, Middle Earth hills of New Zealand. From over a rise you see hundreds of sheep -- coming at you teeth first! Bloodthirsty, mutant, vengeful sheep. Bhah. As the tagline speaks: "There are 40 million sheep in New Zealand ... and they're pissed off!" You could choose the high road and see "Black Sheep" as a philosophical and actual battle between scientific experimentation and stewardship of our planet and nature. Or you can see "Black Sheep" as a rollicking splatter fest where the evil-doers get their just desserts, or, in fact, are the sheeps' dessert. There are a few well-trained sheep (King used the same trainers who wrangled the sheep in "Babe.") as well as many animatronics, which cause the placid herd of 1000 sheep to acquire an ominous aire as they prance along the pristine fields of Wellington, NZ. Though massively bloody, gutsy and messy, not realistic enough to cause an upset stomach, but plenty of belly laughs -- if there's too methane escaping from the audience -- could be fatal. P.S. Don't forget
to boycott Australian sheep wool because of the brutal sheering practices
that cause unnecessary pain and death to a very large percentage of the
stock. Really don't know about the status of N.Z. with animal protection
organizations. Something to look into. But, according to the press notes
for this film "no sheep were harmed in the making of 'Black Sheep'." 1408 I don't like violent films. There, I said it. I never, almost never, go to films where hands come out of walls to strangle unsuspecting bimbos, campers get slashed, travelers with broken down cars get dismembered, motel occupants are tortured, mutilitated, humiliated, tormented and then they die. Just not my cup of tea. It's mean spirited and depressing, and I question viewers who enjoy watching others' torment. \But that is not what 1408 is about. In the vein of "The Twilight Zone," and gothic tales of paranormal activity or ghosts, or the mind playing tricks, or the effect of drugs, we watch John Cusack visit a purported evil room to find there is no exit. Cool and jaded, writer Mike Enslin (John Cusack) insists on spending the night in a hotel room in which scores of people have died. He writes books about hotel rooms, inns, caves, anyplace a ghost has been sited.. Here I get a little confused. I thought he made them sound scary in his books and people buy the books to be scared, even though he has never --before room 1408 -- had a paranormal experience. I read, though, that he writes bestsellers that discredit paranormal events. Who would buy a book that says there's nothing there? In any case, boy,
did Cusack work. He is in every scene, traversing every emotion, sweating,
freezing, walking the ledge, bleeding, pounding the walls, and confronting
his own ghosts. Reaching his fear limit, he tries to leave the room, but
at every turn he is thwarted. How can he ever escape? Is he doomed to
eternity in the dreaded room 1408? I wanted to know, I tried to think
of ways of escape that might work. I wasn't resourceful enough. Could
you? These
Foolish Things Taken from a novel written in the 1940's and directed in the style of a romantic, showbiz film of those days, These Foolish Things is as close as you're going to get to that bygone era of an aspiring, young girl confronted by two loves and trying to build a career in pre-war London. Ah, yes, we've seen it all before. This is not an updated version with either present-day sensibilities or a kitsch point of view. This is not a satiric take off and it adds nothing new to an antiquated genre. It's just a rehash - naive country girl goes to London to seek a career in theater; meets a budding playwright, gets a plumb role in a play, falls in love with yet another guy, the war starts. The one added element is all the gay characters are evil, conniving, manipulative, and dangerous. I've never seen one group of characters in a film drawn, across-the-board, so negatively, except perhaps the Japanese and Germans in World War II films. I have to admit, I was taken aback. The one interesting
thing about the film was Terence Stamp's character -- built upon a Jeeves
model of the superior servant, Stamp's manservant Baker is in control,
omnicient, has obviously had a rich and dark background and is in his
position as underling only due to birth and not capabilities or perhaps
to protect his employers. One is not sure. He is a mystery. I only perked
up from my slumped position in the theater chair when he was on
the screen. Thanks, Terry. Vitus This is not a coming of age story. Vitus is a man very early in the film, long before he physically becomes an adult. He executes Byzantine plots involving making a fortune, learning to fly, taking the pressure of his concert piano career and aspirations, even pursuing the girl he wants to eventually marry. He figures it all out by himself and lets no one in on his plans. Vitus is not a sweet or charming boy. He's too busy taking care of business. I might have been curious as to what his goals were and how he was going to achieve them, but I didn't like the boy, I didn't feel for the boy, and, therefore, ultimately, wasn't rooting for him. Maybe all the hours of practicing the piano, the lack the company of children his own age, his inability to have a warm relationship with his parents due to their problems, dad --financial, mom -- over protective of her gifted son, caused his stolid demeanor. Only with his eccentric grandfather could be feel like a child. Vitus was played by
real life piano prodigy Teo Gheorghiu. You can't help but enjoy his virtuosity
on the piano, and you may be fascinated by his behavior. Vitus is an unusual
boy who creates unusual situations well beyond a child's capabilities. Ten
Canoes The story starts with an Aboriginal narrator explaining to the audience that the tale he is about to tell is very, very old; so old... You want to yell to the screen "How old is it?" Then he proceeds to tell a present day story in which the very old story is told. Funny thing is both stories look like they could have taken place at the same time. Nothing has changed since very, very, VERY long ago. And that's the joke -- the story is timeless, the life of the Aborigines in Australia is unchanged -- if left to their own devices. There are the city Aborigines, the country Aborigines who trade and interact with the immerges, and there are the outback Aborigines whose lives haven't changed since time began for them in their land. And the land, beautifully shot, seems devoid of sustenance, yet the hunters find a vast harvest hidden in the brush, the swamps, the very trees. The story is filled with humor and the human condition. It tells of laws that go beyond tribe or community, just because it's the right way to live and everybody lives by them or know they must pay. We see how they live off the parched, unforgiving land. If you remember back to "Walkabout," the white Hansel and Gretel children who were left to die by their mad father would not have survived except for the intervention of an young Aborigine boy who was on his adult trek through the desert. If you haven't seen this one, it's a must. The story
in Ten Canoes is for you to unveil and enjoy -- to ponder and retell to
your children. Stephanie
Daley It just breaks your heart that in our modern world, children, though they think they mature earlier, actually are not at all prepared for parenthood by the time they reach puberty. As this film demonstrates, sex education in school is little help, discussing sex with one's parents is not an option, and the more religious the community, the more fearful and unprepared the youth. So, when Stephanie Daley (played by Amber Tamblyn) has her first and only sexual experience, she doesn't realize or denies to herself that she is actually pregnant. When she delivers her baby in a bathroom during a school ski field trip, she ends up in the hospital, the baby is found dead, and questions have to be answered. The Court assigns Lydie Crane (played by Tilda Swinton), a forensic psychologist, to interview Stephanie and give her opinion as to Stephanie's sanity, ability to know right from wrong when she killed her newborn, according to evidence at the scene. By the way Tilda is pregnant during these interviews, having already suffered one still birth. Maybe this is a date movie, maybe young couples should subject themselves to this young, innocent girl's experiences. It's not a cautionary tale. There is no blatant moral message, perhaps none at all. But you feel deeply and compassionately (or you're made of stone) for both women dealing with their fertility. And I promise you, you will squirm. As for symbolism,
the underlying puzzle of a film, can someone tell me the significance
of the cats: a pale one for the psychologist, a dark on for Stephanie,
and a white one at the fateful party? Also, deers, deers, deers: walking
around the outside of the house, dead on the road, struck by a car. Flanders A horse gets killed in this film. Either those two bullets were real or that's a damned fine equine actor. And since this is a foreign film and there are no laws or organizations protecting animals outside of the United States, I have to ask myself was his death worth this film. Without hesitation - No! Then again, no film is. It looked as if a small herd of horses were made available to the filmmaker and he couldn't pass them up. The French army is in some nameless desert fighting some unspecified arab enemy in this present day film. The rest of the army rides jeeps and tanks, leaving behind 5 soldiers on horseback. They enter a village and a sniper shoots the horse. The rider runs for cover, feels bad for the horse in agony and shoots him dead. I wouldn't like any film that slaughters animals for effect, but this one has no merits beyond cinematography, in any case. The French countryside, through it's seasons, is still and painterly. The desert is inviting in its vastness and mutability6. The film starts in Flanders, France, yet I feel I have entered one of Bruegel's Medieval Dutch scenes in which uneducated and boorish peasants plow and party, both in instinctual actions. The inhabitants here barely speak, don't show any emotion, have sex much as the farm animals do, and barely take note of the passing seasons. Andre loves Barbe. She may be a nymphomaniac, but there aren't enough men in the film to confirm this. He goes off to war in the desert and fights a generic war. She is bored to distraction. Yes, war
is horrible. This film also graphically shows that soldiers, simply due
to their circumstances, become monsters who rape and murder indiscriminately.
Unfortunately, we already know this. But I never felt less for any film
soldier and feel even less for Barbe, the girl left behind with too few
activities. Pierrrepoint
- The
Last Hangman An executioner has to be in moral conflict about his profession unless he is actually a serial killer and enjoys what he does. In this biopic, Pierrepoint, with no apparent predilection for murder, has found a moral high ground: In his pursuance of human executions, he has become the best hangman in England, meaning the whole process takes as little as 12 seconds, the hanging itself about 1 second, and is as painless as possible, breaking the 2nd and 3rd vertebras instantly. He believes no matter what the condemned's crimes, the execution itself is payment for the crime and the condemned should be treated with respect before and after the execution. Pierrepoint comes from a family of executioners, his father and uncle having held the jobs before him. He did take some pride in being called the very best in his profession, and at the close of World War II, was even called upon by Lord Montbatton himself to exercise his skill on over 45 Nazi war criminals. Unfortunately, this high profile exploit shattered his anonymity. This notoriety was uncomfortable, but acceptable at first since everyone was happy to meet the man who dispatched these horrible war criminals and the violent killers in England, but the tide of public opinion regarding capital punishment eventually changed and Pierrepoint was the brunt of personal attack, which led him to rethink his career choice. Pierrepoint
was by nature and soft spoken, even tempered, gentleman. Spall's performance
is understated, even though the fire was there when needed. It was hypnotic
watching him. The executions was abrupt and humane; something any adult
audience member could deal with, well, anyone who knew he/she had chosen
to watch a film about executions. Slasher/horror film aficionados will
be disappointed.
Crazy Love Okay, all the reviewers are giving the shocking facts away. Burt and Linda were interviewed on the Today Show with excerpts from the film making all the issues clear. Burt fell hard for Linda back in 1959, but he was married and Linda dumped him when it was clear to her that he wasn't going to get a divorce. She even got engaged to another man -- who introduced her to his parents. Burt hired a couple of guys to go to Linda's house and throw lye in her face. Linda lost almost all her vision and was horribly scared. She called herself damaged goods and lived a reclusive life. Burt got 30 years in Attica, but got off after 12 because he started sending money to Linda, at her request, and the parole board wanted him to continue. He pled his undying love for Linda and proposed to her on a TV show since he was not allowed to approach her. She accepted! They've been married for the last 33 years and are on the TV talk show circuit again. I am so sorry you couldn't get to see this film before you knew anything about these people. I was floored, flabbergasted and blown away by both their behavior. You won't be. You know what to expect. But we may never comprehend the workings of these two minds. Jimmy Breslin called Burt the craziest man outside a mental institution. But says he knows what he did was terrible, but his whole life was falling apart at the time (besides Linda dumping him, his wife gave birth to a severely retarded and disabled child, and Burt was fighting to save his license to practice law). He just wasn't himself. I can almost understand Linda. Burt was the only man who would have her, he could provide for her, he deeply loved her. I, personally, would rather kill him and spend the rest of my life in prison or have it ended by lethal injection. But the unraveling of the tumultuous relationship between Burt and Linda defies everything I thought I knew about human nature. There is no similarity between these people and, say, Joey Buttafuoco and Amy Fisher -- crass, uneducated, white trash. Burt is a Jewish lawyer, an ambulance chaser who might have crossed the legal line in his dealings, though he doesn't believe so. Linda, is also Jewish, smart, level headed, a good girl, though beautiful and sought after. You listen to Burt explain what he did and why; he seems calm, intelligent, reasonable -- until you realize he has to be unhinged. You listen to Linda, rightfully bitter and angry, and your heart goes out to her. Yet, her decision is beyond comprehension. Oddly, through the roller coaster ride of their relationship, much is really pretty funny. Hollywood couldn't get away with such an absurd script. But Burt and Linda don't see anything that strange about it. The question
posed is what if a woman acquiesced to her stalker? Wish I could say more.
Questions have been gnawing at me since I saw Crazy Love. This is a good
film to discuss in a diner after viewing -- not to argue, but to explore. Fay
Grim Hal Hartley is an independent filmmaker, and as such, is most interested in small, human stories, as reflected in his previous films. Even "Henry Fool" (1998)," to which "Fay Grim" is a sequel, is a small, slice of life, though an odd one. Hartley brought back the cast of "Henry Fool," plus some notable additions to follow up on the story. Fay Grim was married to Henry Fool, but in this sequel, she is a single mother, having been left by Henry 7 years earlier. She has adjusted to her life without him and doesn't want him back even if he were to return. Enter the CIA in the person of Jeff Goldblum, searching for Henry's "confessions," hand written, lined note books which enumerate the various international plots to which he was a party, spanning Nicaragua, Israel, France, Germany and the Middle East. At first, I believe it's just Henry's insane bravado and tall tails. But it seems spies from all over the world are hunting for the notebooks. Goldblum enlists Posey (Fay) to help retrieve some of the notebooks, and off she goes from Queens, NY, to Europe and beyond, getting more embroiled in espionage in the attempt to reunite with Henry again. The humor, like the
Hartley acting style, is dry. But every now and then it hits me how really
funny all these goings-on are. A suburban New York mother takes on the
roll of superspy and out-wits the many enemies she encounters without
any change to her character or demeanor. Everybody should rent "Henry
Fool" first so you don't fall behind. Georgia
Rule I was expecting to hate this Hollywood production about rebellious, uncontrollable daughters and how the power of motherhood and grandmotherhood heals. Haven't we all seen this too many times before? What could possibly hold my interest? I'm not a snob; I've just seen too many films to be satisfied with pap. Felicity Huffman brings her daughter Lindsay Lohan to her mother Jane Fonda for the summer. Felicity can't deal with Lindsay's sex, drugs, car crashes and insolence. Okay, type casting. Felicity also has issues with her mother, and would rather not waste any time at mom's place, thus the problems are multi-generational. But the issue is not so simple: do you believe what your problem child tells you? And it had me going. I went back and forth with it a few times. It really could have gone either way. There are cases on record that have gone both ways. Of course, to be a good Hollywood movie, it would only go one way, but I was able to forget that for a while and stay involved with the plot instead of going outside it. Lindsay really does a good job. I always forget that she is more than a red carpet manikin and paparazzi/gossip maven. Felicity was lovely. I tried to find the garish, vulnerable transvestite from Transamerica, but she was completely gone, a beautiful , sexy woman in her place. Jane did her thing, though I was confused about the inner life of her character. She's hard, she uncomfortable; she's religious when it comes to the name of our Lord in vein, drinking and smoking, like a good Mormon, but does not exude a religious person's demeanor. I was not convinced. Her name goes first in the credits, but the core of the story is really about Felicity and Lindsay; Jane is more of a lackluster facilitator. I did learn that Mormon
girls are unattractive and boring, especially compared to scantily clad,
San Francisco suntanned Lohan. Okay, writer Mark Andrus stacked the decked
in typical Hollywood fashion. The one Mormon boy in town is hot, pure,
and tempted out of 20 years of religious training by Lindsay's wiles.
Now, will she wait for him for 2 years while he fulfills his missionary
obligation to the church? Can't wait for the sequel! Adam's
Apples Remember the story of Lot in the Bible? Poor lot was tested by God, loosing his family, his possession, his farm animals, and his health. Perhaps this film should have |