Underspores: Rise of the Lichens

I know, I know, I have yet to even bother an attempt on writing DVD reviews. In an attempt to get the word out on good vs. toxic cinema, I will try to give a weekly run down on what to watch and what to surreptitiously ignore.

This week's utter crap:
1. Nature Mort (2006) Dir. Paul Burrows - UK
2. Underworld: Rise of the Lycans (2009) Dir. Patrick Tatapoulos - US

This week's sadly mediocre:
1. Hukkle (2002) Dir. Gyorgy Palfi - Hungary
2. Boomerang (1992) Dir. Reginald Hudlin - US
3. The Mighty Quinn (1989) Dir. Carl Schenkel - US
4. Dark Tales of Japan (2004) - Dir. various - Japan
5. Wolf Creek (2005) - Dir. Greg Mclean - Australia
6. Pleasure of the Flesh (1965) - Dir. Nagisa Oshima - Japan
7. The Cry of the Owl (1987) - Dir. Claude Chabrol - France
8. The Wackness (2008) - Dir. Jonathan Levine - US
9. Q: The Winged Serpent (1982) Dir. Larry Cohen - US
10. The Pillow Book (1998) Dir. Peter Greenaway - UK

And this week's Top Picks, In Descending Order
10. The Burrowers (2008) Dir. J.T. Petty - US
9. Barton Fink (1991) Dir. Brothers Coen - US
8. Isolation (2005) Dir. Billy O'Brien - Ireland
7. The Rapture (1991) Dir. Michael Tolkin - US
6. JCVD (2008) Dir. Mabrouk El Mechri - Belgium
5. Imprint (2006) Dir. Takashi Miike - US
4. La Dilettante (1999) Dir. Pascal Thomas - France
3. Chungking Express (1994) Dir. Wong Kar Wai - China
2. Funeral Parade of Roses (1969) Dir. Toshio Matsumoto - Japan
1. The Skeleton Of Mrs. Morales (1960) Dir. Rogelio A Gonzalez - Mexico

Theatrical Releases:

Dance Flick (2009) -- There's not a whole lot to say about the latest offering from the Wayans Bros. (or now, the Wayans Relatives??). I must say, I forgot how flat gag comedies were since it's been so long since I've witnessed one. What I can't understand is why a parody of dance movies is being released in 2009 when the main film it's poking fun at was released in 2001. Dance Flick has only three aspects worth mentioning: Essence Atkins, Amy Sedaris (as the dance instructor, Mrs. Cameltoe), and the film's preview---which made me laugh more than the movie.

Tyson (2009) -- There's not a whole lot to say about James Toback's new documentary about his buddy Mike Tyson. I suppose I don't understand the negative attention surrounding the doc stating it's biased. Well, I find that most documentaries tend to be a bit biased. And at the end of Tyson, I felt, well, pity for a man that seems to be more misunderstood than anything. It's unreal to look back at the late 80's and early 90's and realize that Tyson was so young when he won his title and when he was married to Robin Givens. Sadly, looking at how people either praise or denigrate this film, it's obvious that the film won't change anyone's mind about Tyson if they're already set to demonize him. However, as one who did watch boxing with my parents as a young boy, I was familiar with Tyson as an athlete (as well as a media scandal) but had no particular opinion of him. After this doc (and his daughter's death this week, the eerily named Exodus Tyson) I can only say that I feel bad for the man as he's mostly a product of his environment.

Gigantic (2008) -- I wanted so badly to fall in love with this quirky dramedy starring Paul Dano and Zooey Deschanel, and while I did love Deschanel's decidedly quirky performance, there's too many issues with the film's plot to make it anything above questionable. There's plenty of films nowadays, and especially indie comedies, that, on paper, sound utterly lugubrious, only to surprise you with an engaging and heartfelt story. Gigantic concerns Brian Weathersby (Paul Dano of Little Miss Sunshine - 2006 and There Will Be Blood - 2007), a mattress salesman whose lifelong dream has been to adopt a baby from China. We never discover why he so desperately wants to adopt a baby, much less a Chinese one. Perhaps with today's celebrity headlines we are just supposed to assume (in a heteronormative sense) that white people automatically lust for raising a miscellaneous slew of non-white babies from other countries. Otherwise, I'm assuming, that like many indie comedies, we are supposed to write this off as simply quirky, and therefore, acceptable. I must say, I will have to put my foot down---moderately intelligent people may wonder why a desperately lonely young man wants to adopt a baby from China with an income from selling expensive mattresses to support it. Additionally, the audience is led to draw comparisons between Dano and the rats his college buddy completes sink or swim depression techniques on in his laboratory. And most disturbing of all, a strange, homeless man (played by Zach Galifianakis) pursues Dano throughout the film, beating him mercilessly, and in one scene, shooting him. Come to find, this man is a phantom of Dano's mind and it's Dano himself who has been busting his own face. Though the gunshot scene doesn't quite work after you realize this; everyone sees Dano's blackened eyes, meaning he hits himself, but then, he wouldn't have been able to shoot himself in the leg....Oh well. Enter John Goodman as Zooey Deschanel's father and there's some actual life in the film. The best scenes involve Deschanel and Goodman and the film should have incorporated more of their story lines/personalities---the Weathersby clan is indie quirk to the max. Ed Asner plays Dano's dad, and for his 80th birthday he and his three sons (the other sons are about a decade older than Dano) go to a cabin in the woods and trip on homemade shrooms. Not believable. Not impressed. And then there's Jane Alexander as Dano's mom in another wasted role. She looks good, though. This was director Matt Aselton's first film (and Dano produces). Perhaps we can expect something a little more substantial in the future.

The Girlfriend Experience (2009) -- I love when Steven Soderbergh ventures into more experimental territory. I, for one, loved Bubble (2005) and The Good German (2006) and cared much less for fare like the Ocean's sequels or Erin Brockovich (2000). His new film stars porn star Sasha Grey and is set in the weeks leading up to the 2008 presidential election. Grey plays Chelsea, a rather high class call girl whose self run escort services promises "the girlfriend experience." At the same time, Chelsea happens to also be nurturing a "meaningful" relationship with her boyfriend of a year and a half, Chris, who happens to be a personal trainer at a gym. The irony is that she gets paid much more to have the same kind of interactions with her clients as he does with his (minus the sex, maybe, but that could be a slippery slope). Soderbergh's film follows Grey around, and she is indeed an intriguing screen presence (though not enough for me to watch her in her element--I'm sure there are plenty of other dudes who want to review her niche work). Most of her conversations with her lonely, rich, clients revolve around the economy, how their dull jobs might be in danger, etc, which is also ironic because they are sharing their woes with a young woman who charges $2,000 dollars an hour to hear them. And then we get to see the chip in her 22 year old armour---she becomes infatuated with a handsome client and jeopardizes her relationship with Chris to run off for the weekend. The client (who she is certain is a good match due to her trendy belief in physicology---a kind of revamped astrology) of course, is married, and doesn't show up for their weekend stint. On top of that, Chelsea is tricked into sleeping with a fat slob of a man in exchange for a good review of her services (oh the wicked power of blogs and message boards!) only to have him write a scathingly bad review. In the one scene of the film which Chelsea seems to break down a bit concerning how she had to sleep with such an awful man, "Disgusting, in every sense of the word," I couldn't help but realize the only thing disgusting about him was that he was the one person she slept with that didn't have money---the others were not prizes, certainly. On top of that, what about all those other used and abused escort girls from all economic levels? In the end, I couldn't pity Chelsea--she's a rather distant and disaffected character study---but depressing nonetheless. We all want to throw caution to the wind and be saved---and the film's message, though set leading up to an event that so many of us put out hopes into---seems to say that that hope is open to interpretation---the girlfriend experience, the president experience, the life experience. The tagline, of course, is "See it with someone you ****." If you do, hopefully it's someone you really like to **** because it's all about people you shouldn't.

The Limits of Control

I'm quite surprised at the negative feedback that's surrounding Jim Jarmusch's latest effort, The Limits of Control. Roger Ebert himself has penned quite the asinine review. True, Jarmusch's pacing tends to lull us away from the narrative (I thought of how I was out of mayo several times, and am now realizing I still need to buy some), however, if you know what to generally expect from Jarmusch (which Ebert should) then you might be in for an engaging, and certainly not unfulfilling time with his latest effort---though it is the fodder of what makes up film criticism. Feeling much like a more whimsical turn by David Lynch, the film is centered around a man, who, we come to feel, is up to no good and is on a mission that we can only assume will end with an assassination or worse. This man is played by the stoic Isaach De Bankole, who thankfully, is an engaging screen presence--dialogue is a bit limited and there are several stretches where we are just watching Bankole, err, travel all over Spain. Some major international players are peppered throughout the film, all of whose appearances are virtually cameos and each repeating the same concept dialogue, more or less. Personal favorites of mine Alex Descas, Hiam Abbass, John Hurt, Gael Garcia Bernal---"the universe has no boundaries and no edges," "Reality is arbitrary," and something about men that think they're bigger than it and how they should go to the cemetery to see what life is all about. And what's life about? Well, death, of course. What I couldn't seem to get out of my head was the title and how it fit into the mix---who has control, who's being limited? I believe Jarmusch is making an obvious statement about the limits of narrative control, the limits of artistic control---cinema and art are featured in this film, each mediums in their own right, and each with boundaries and edges---Tilda Swinton's engaging turn as a Lady GaGa-ian creature references Orson Welle's The Lady From Shanghai (1947) and how that classic noir didn't make any sense---she talks of Rita Hayworth's notoriously dyed blonde locks and of the famous fun-house climax with the shattered mirrors. Jarmusch's film is asking us to look at these themes, of shattered mirrors, tropes, doubles, controls. Bankole does a lot of sitting in cafes in order to meet his "contacts" (who he continually will exchange different colored matchboxes with the "boxeur" on it) and he always orders two single espressos, served in different cups, only one of which he will ever drink. He continually visits a museum, the paintings imitating the people he will be introduced to. The world is a mirror, and we, as humans, have limited control over our destinies, just as film characters have limited control over their images, their projected selves, their mirrors. Why do we love cinema? Because in a way, cinema is a mirror into us, different angles of us, different worlds, all open to interpretation, another facet we have no control over---how symbols and images are interpreted. Tilda Swinton's character likes old movies, citing instances where you know a film was good if you find yourself questioning whether it was a film, a dream, or something you experienced yourself---and why is not observing the experience of another not akin to experiencing something yourself? The Limits of Control, you see---the more I think about it, the more I really loved this film. Also, shout out to Paz de la Huerta, who's is weird and naked throughout all her scenes. And yes, Bill Murray is entertaining in his scene, as well. And if you think you're bigger and better than it all, go to the cemetary. That's what life is about---that's where we all end up.

With all my love, a song dedication for Miss California

It is not my intent to make my minuscule blog a political cess pool, but every time I see that crazy bitch's face from California my blood pressure gets a little haywire. So, I'd like to you all to experience the wonderful Lily Allen's song that expresses my sentiments exactly concerning viperous, ignorant airheads like Carrie Prejean. Eat your heart out, Fuck You (Very Much).

And if you're reading my blog at work, here are the lyrics:

"Look inside, look inside your tiny mind
and look a bit harder
cause we’re so uninspired
so sick and tired
of all the hatred you harbor

So you say it’s not okay to be gay
well I think you’re just evil
you’re just some racist who can’t tie my laces
you’re point of view is medieval

Fuck you, fuck you very very much
cause we hate what you do
and we hate your whole crew
so please don’t stay in touch

Fuck you, fuck you very very much
cause your words don’t translate
and it’s getting quite late
so please don’t stay in touch

Do you get, do you get a little kick out of being small-minded?
you want to be like your father
it’s approval you’re after
well that’s not how you’ll find it

Do you, do you really enjoy living a life that’s so hateful
cause there’s a hole where your soul should be
you’re losing control of it
and it’s really distasteful

Fuck you, fuck you very very much
cause we hate what you do
and we hate your whole crew
so please don’t stay in touch

Fuck you, fuck you very very much
cause your words don’t translate
and it’s getting quite late
so please don’t stay in touch

Look inside, look inside your tiny mind
and look a bit harder
cause we’re so uninspired
so sick and tired
of all the hatred you harbor

Fuck you, fuck you very very much
cause we hate what you do
and we hate your whole crew
so please don’t stay in touch

Fuck you, fuck you very very much
cause your words don’t translate
and it’s getting quite late
so please don’t stay in touch"

Baldwins and Roberts and Culkins, Oh My!

"Oh, strange they may be, the wicked ways of man!" -- Me.

Wrestling (2007) -- A short film from Iceland about two wrestlers in love, was short, sweet and inconsequential. The most entertaining part of the short film, however, was watching how wrestling goes down in Iceland---it looks gay. And not in a sexy way, but wrestling looks more like an uncomfortable waltz a la Calvaire (2004). The film's homo angle was actually a bit more sensitive than the other recent gay sports movie I've seen from Iceland, Eleven Men Out (2005).

Peer Gynt From The Streets (2008) -- As the BF and I wanted to see the 21 minute short film about gay wrestlers, we were forced to sit through this other half of this fabulous double bill, a dull, tedious socio-documentary from Norway. I will admit up front, I have not read Ibsen's play, Peer Gynt. However, even if one had, I don't know what would really motivate anyone to want to sit in a strange, dark, damp room with people and view this film, which is trying to be too many dull things. Concerning, of course, Ibsen's play, the film is kind of a documentary about a group of Norwegian recovering drug addicts that are putting on a film version of the play, hence the parenthetical. What results is a strange melding of what happens if one were to mix the Behind-The-Scenes extra features on a DVD with the main event. The film, I'm supposing, thinks it jumps seamlessly from a filmed effort of Peer Gynt to the deliriously uninspiring vagabonds (volunteering? employed?) pixellating the work of their fellow countryman. I thought it just goes to show that you can get any old thing to wander around on screen and call it an actor.

Star Trek (2009) -- I will preface this with the fact that I have never watched Star Trek in all my live long days. Forced to watch Star Wars at a young age, I quickly grew tired of the endless vagaries associated with this light-hearted sci-fi masturbation, so I think I was turned off from attempting to sit through anything related to this other influential franchise. Which is too bad, because I was actually entertained by this newest venture. Don't get me wrong, I had set the bar quite low - like a one legged man with a dog nipping at his good heel, the movie jumped the hurdle like a million bucks. So what are the major issues I had with the film? Well, the plot is a little silly, if you sit back and think about it. Except that there's so much time travel back and forth and in between and upside down and inside the skirts of Father Time that you might be fooled into thinking something intelligent might be going down since you can't detect it. Wrong. The convenient time travel trope has been activated (much like the Omega 13 device in Galaxy Quest -- how nerdy of me is that!) so that every Star Trek storyline that has come before has changed the narrative history and now J.J. Abrams has leave to write whatever he wants. Bloody brilliant, from a colonialist's point of view, I suppose. A cinematic analogy would be, if one could go back in time and dispose of Tommy Lee Wallace, let's say, right before he filmed Halloween III (1982), or Rob Zombie, for that matter, to change the course of how overexposed we are to that franchise. As far as Hollywood goes, what with everything under the sun being remade (the popular new term is rebooted--it's still a damn remake, Igor) or sequel/prequel/trequelized, the plot device Star Trek activated is quite brilliant from a corporate takeover viewpoint. As for the cast, well, they did alright. I don't quite see the allure of Chris Pine as Capt. Kirk, and scenes where he's trying to be light-hearted/funny with the atrocious Karl Urban as Dr. McCoy are the worst in the film, especially when you get Simon Pegg in the mix, who actually is funny. Zachary Quinto, from "Heroes," which I've never seen because watching a television series would be, for me, like dating a woman, (too much commitment wasted on a medium I'm not attracted to anyway--that's harsh but I like it) is entertaining as Spock and his scenes with Leonard Nimoy are at least entertaining. I know that Arnold Schwarzeneggar declared to the world the difficult time he had portraying a character that was cold, and emotionless, but something makes me think that it's not all that difficult, but is in fact, quite easy. I think Spock was an easy role to play. There. I said it. And I like Zoe Saldana, I do, but if I were her friend I would tell her to eat a thing or two so she doesn't end up looking like a bobblehead. I'm glad to see a black girl as the romantic interest, however, even if it is with a mixed race Vulcan.

Regardless, my last gripe with the film (I'm not really going to bother explaining the plot machinations---go see the damn film if you want that) is the presence of two celebrities, each with two scenes. Winona Ryder and Tyler Perry--both cast in roles that Abrams should have dumped William Shatner in so we could all avoid his bitchy complaining. As in the recent shit fest, Watchmen, why are we casting beautiful, 40-ish actresses in limited bit parts and painting in crow's feet while we spray their hair with Halloween style spider webbing? Like Carla Gugino, Winona Ryder gets the job done here as Spock's mother who dies in her second scene. Was there more on the cutting room floor? What range, what depth of emotion in this woman, lover of the Vulcans, screamed for Winona Ryder? But not Winona as she looks, oh no, but Winona "Golden Girl" Ryder. I hope that paycheck was tight. And then, there's Tyler Perry, whose presence elicited a few snickers from the crowd. He doesn't do anything wrong, it's just, why is he in there? The foreboding feeling I felt in the pit of my stomach concerns Madea popping up somewhere on the glorious Enterprise. At least we didn't have to hear about Lawd Jeebus in Star Trek, this time around---just you wait.

Sin Nombre (2009) --- Destined to be among my top picks for the year, this directorial debut from Cary Fukunaga (who grew up in Oakland) concerns the ill-fated destiny of Sayra, from Honduras and Willy, a Mexican gang banger, both on top of a train trying to get into the U.S. No matter what your stance is on illegal immigrants, watching the living conditions in which some of these people exist has to melt a heart of stone---and for those that want a chance at a better life in a country not run by rival gangs, more power to them. The director famously rode the tops of trains with immigrants in Mexico for research in his film, which truly is a labor of love. Running at a crisp pace, the film delivers an awesome narrative infused with what has become an elusive element in American cinema---some humanity. If you have the chance, see it.

State of Play (2009) --- Alright, alright, halfway into this film I was into it. It's been a while since a mainstream American political thriller made me excited (I loved John Grisham as a child, which may be why I can't stand him now) but the film's twisty turning became a bit ludicrous and eventually it undermines itself. I always love to see Helen Mirren (who I'm guessing is part of the cast because it's based on a BBC series?) and I enjoy Rachel McAdams, but neither have anything substantial to do. What gets me is that, in the end, the focus seems to be all about a philandering congressman and his ill-fated affair, eclipsing the actual political intrigue of the plot. It's like the Levy case, I suppose. Anyhow, I will say one thing, for a film starring two actors I really don't care for (Russell Crowe, looking like butch lesbian here, and Ben Affleck, who is supposed to be Crowe's age--my math skills are poor, but come on) I was quite engaged throughout. And Robin Wright Penn, looking fine, honey. Too bad about Sean Penn, but something tells me Robin Wright could pull a Catherine Keener.

Lymelife (2008) --- Today's blog title, ladies and gentleman. 30 minutes into Lymelife I had the realization that three major acting clans were involved in this production---Eric Roberts' daughter, Emma (more often credited as Julia Roberts' niece, which I find hilarious), two Culkin brothers, and a Baldwin. I suppose I realized this when, distracted by two Culkins, I wondered how Macauley felt that he wasn't invited to be a cameo at least. Or is he considered a toxic presence in the indie scene? I thought he did his job just fine in Saved! (2004). Anyhow, I love how the film was marketed as "in the tradition of Ordinary People and American Beauty," both suburban angst films that won Best Picture (and Timothy Hutton, who appears in this one was well, not looking like he's aged well since winning that Oscar for Ordinary People, but then, he has Lyme's disease here). The problem with Lymelife is that it fails to cover new ground, or plumb the depths of anything relevant. Yeah, life sucks for teenagers living with fucked up parents. And these 70's parental units aren't even that fucked up. See The Ice Storm (1997) instead. Some excellent acting hurtles this film along nicely, but we're left with little to remember. Jill Hennessy, looking good, is excellent as Alec Baldwin's depressed suburban housewife, but I don't see the appeal of Cynthia Nixon (looking good for Cynthia Nixon) over Hennessy. And the trouble with Alec Baldwin is, whenever he gets all angry and verbally abusive in a movie I always picture that's how he talked to Kim Basinger and his kid with her.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009) -- I almost didn't bother writing about this turkey, hoping to almost forget that I'd seen it. Viewing it should make you think of what would happen if a three month old fetus survived being taken out of the womb and then was left to develop on it's own due to someone's ill-thought scheme. The worst part of all, there's nothing I can specifically call out---every reel is drenched in shit. What's worse is that it's not getting nearly enough scathing reviews for it's awful, unfortunate existence in nature. From the opening credits, yes, before we've even begun, the film reveals it's ridiculousness. Whoever thought it was a clever idea to make wolf brothers fight in every war in a ludicrous slap-happy montage that ends, typically, with madness in Vietnam? Was it Skip Woods, one of the screenwriters responsible for penning other stomach churning fare like Swordfish (2001) or Hitman (2007)? And what of our South African director, Gavin Hood, who has legit indie cred for Tsotsi (2005)? I think studios lure these foreign directors to direct their big budget babies so they can personally fuck the project over. This one reeks of studio born blandness. I love how High Jackman (and Liev Schreiber, to a degree) keep getting credit that they are "above this material," and Jackman's "passion" for the role is evident, blah, blah, blah. He isn't above shit. He's a producer AND he uttered all those stupid lines, acted out the asinine plot, marketed the shit-tastic end product, etc. "Still shooting first, asking questions later?" one character asks. That seems to be the new method of filmmaking, exibited here. Does this make sense, Hugh? No? Excellent, it's in. And then we are forced to watch Ryan Reynolds, in his smug mode, working in a film that allows him gym access in-between takes. The strange end product creature that Reynolds becomes is the creepiest part of the film, looking like a microwaved Neo-nazi from a Bruce Labruce skin flick. And yet the film still doesn't bother to explain why exactly Logan (ahem Quetiqweetal or Wolverine or whatever that's translated as) is a wolf-man, why he has a brother as a wolf man, why he has an enemy brother-as-a-wolf-man that doesn't appear in any of the other X-men movies since this is a prequel, and other neglected plot angles. And then our female lead, Lynn Collins. I couldn't figure out, at first, why she irritated me to such an extent with her overt flaky acting chops, and then I realized I had seen her in person in Toronto at the very small world premiere of her film Uncertainty with Joseph Gordon Levitt, directed by two men I respect very much, Scott McGehee & David Siegel (Suture - 1993; The Deep End - 2001). Yeah, she was boo-worthy in that, too. But here, well, in her dying scene where she has the capability of destroying the film's evil incarnate, Danny Huston (Anjelica's brother, always the asshole) while she instead states, as forcefully as one is wont to under the circumstances, "Walk until your feet bleed. Then keep walking." Bitch, paleeze! I'm guessing that the Nazi (excuse me, conservative) censorship board (excuse me, MPAA) wouldn't have rated a man blowing his brains out as worthy of a PG-13 rating. And then to think Liev Schreiber gained 35 lbs of muscle to avoid wearing a humiliating muscle suit in order to be comparable to Jackman's bulk. That's like Russell Crowe becoming a fat ass for Body of Lies (2008) -- what a waste of time and energy over utter crap. Also, love the extremely computer generated face of Patrick Stewart towards the end. The film has one of the worst problems of all, not only is it poorly made, it's just fucking boring.

White Lady Rap: Sigourney Weaver

For those of you miscreants that don't know, Sigourney Weaver is tha shit. A Deluxe edition of Galaxy Quest (1999) was released this month for a 10 year anniversary, and if you haven't already heard, the extras include a rap session with Daryl "Chill" Mitchell, Sam Rockwell, and yes, the lovely and blondified Ms. Weaver. It's cute, to say the least, and eerily timely, since the rap is a Happy Birthday shout out to Weaver's agent, Sam Cohn, who just died this month (and for whom Broadway dimmed it's lights last Thursday, May 7th). Without further adieu, I give you, La Weaver:

http://www.fancast.com/movies/Galaxy-Quest/38277/1108267846/Galaxy-Quest:-Rap/videos

Cream of the Crop: The Best & Worst at the Minneapolis Film Festval

Well here it is, my fine friends, my personal weighted list of Minneapolis Film Festival selections. A human curse, I like the finalized feeling of what's called "the list." Makes me feel like I did something.

17. Rumba (Dir. Dominique Abel & Fiona Gordon - Belgium)
16. Helen (Dir. Joe Lawlor & Christine Malloy - Ireland)
15. The Girl From Monaco (Dir. Anne Fontaine - France)
14. I Am From Titov Veles (Dir. Teona Strugar Mitevska - Macedonia)
13. Lo (Dir. Travis Betz - US)
12. The Investigator (Dir. Attila Galambos - Hungary)
11. The Home of Dark Butterflies (Dir. Dome Karukoski - Finland)
10. Moon (Dir. Duncan Jones - UK)
9. Apron Strings (Dir. Sima Urale - New Zealand)
8. Zombies of Mass Destruction (Dir. Kevin Hamedani - US)
7. Surveillance (Dir. Jennifer Lynch - US)
6. The Secret of the Grain (Dir. Abdel Kechiche - France)
5. Mermaid (Dir. Anna Melikyan - Russia)
4. Lemon Tree (Dir. Eran Riklis - Israel)
3. Towards Zero (Dir. Pascal Thomas - France)
2. The Chaser (Dir. Na Hong-jin - South Korea)
1. Just Another Love Story (Dir. Ole Bornedal - Denmark)

And Then It Was Done: The Final Days of a Rag Tag Film Fest

Day 5

The Secret of the Grain (2007) -- Having recently seen Abdel Kechiche in an excellent film from 2005, Sorry, Haters, with Robin Wright Penn, I was keen to see his newest directorial effort that's been getting excellent reviews on the film festival circuit. The film has received distribution, so it's my own fault for seeing it in the film festival setting as the namby pamby haute cinema crowd was, predictably, like a pack of desperate vultures swooping upon carrion that's had several ripe days in the sun. However, I wasn't disappointed, and was quite impressed. A drawn out, and increasingly intense drama about an immigrant family in a French port town, the story centers around Slimane, a 60ish shipyard worker who is suddenly laid off work. Supporting a divorced wife and a rather large extended family, not to mention a new girlfriend and her daughter that's also, basically, become his own, Slimane buys a beaten down boat in hopes to open a restaurant that serves fish couscous. Centering the film is an excellent performance from Hafsia Herzi, playing Slimane's adopted daughter who struggles (along with the rest of his family) to help make the boat restaurant a reality, while the family is plagued with untimely setbacks. Reminiscent in tone of Death of a Salesman, (but with a family not nearly as helpless or pathetic), the film feeds the discomfort until the very last shot, a stark but realistic conclusion to a film depicting hope for a better life, but struggle and failure at the same time.

Mermaid (2007) -- Yes, the film I missed the first several minutes of. But it was excellent, nonetheless, and I am hopeful for a DVD release somewhere. Director Anna Melikyan gives us a vibrant and refreshing update on a Russian mermaid legend, Rusalka (which means mermaid). If you liked Amelie (2001), I'm sure you'd fall in love with this film, about a young woman, Alisa, from a rather strange family who lives by the beach, moves to Moscow and falls in love with a handsome, but depressed drunk, and is involved in a number of strange and bizarre scenarios throughout. Love the music, the performances and the film's energy. See it even if you have to miss the first few minutes.

Day 6

I Am From Titov Veles (2007) -- The first film I have ever seen from Macedonia sounded a bit more intriguing than it actually was. Concerning a mute heroine, Afrodita, and her two dysfunctional sisters, Sapho (who actually sleeps with quite a few men) and the drug addicted Slavica, the film shows us (yes, yes, very poetically) the desolate, desperate life of the residents of Titov Veles, a town where the local steel factory is quietly poisoning its residents. Though all three sisters are interesting in their own respects, our main character is the least so, and it's never quite explained why she's mute or does any number of the other strange things she does. Slavica and Sapho both end up leaving Afrodita alone, who is unable to take care of herself, as the film dips into a strange fellatio scene that reminded me of Repulsion (1965) while at the same time, tries to give us a 3 Women (1977) type vibe, but not really coming close. Not a disappointing film by any means, but one that seems to be all about the fragile female psyche, poisoned (perhaps) by a bitter cultural history of a displaced people. It's better than Erin Brockovich (2000), but I wanted more Oomph.

Day 7

Lemon Tree (2008) -- One of the best films at the festival and one of the best I've seen this year was this new film from Eran Riklis (The Syrian Bride - 2004). I've been quite impressed with some of Israel's recent cinematic outputs and I loved this one---a political story that centers around the gorgeous and wonderful actress Hiam Abbass, who plays Salma, a Palestinian widow who has the bad luck to have the new Israeli Defense Minister move in next door, demanding she cut down her grove of lemon trees which she inherited from her father and also happen to be her only source of income. What ensues is a bitter struggle with a court system that makes me more thankful for ours, and an extremely moving portrayal of a woman put upon by both parties. An extremely compelling and excellent feature, made all the more moving by the elegant and devastating performance by Hiam Abbass. Yeah, she made me feel bad.

Day 8

Lo (2008) -- An interesting sophomoric effort on a shoestring budget from Travis Betz (Joshua - 2006, and not the evil child drama with Sam Rockwell) concerns our protagonist, Justin, and his bad luck to fall in love with April, who happens to be a demon. When April is abducted back to hell, Justin calls upon the demon Lo from a spell book April had given him but warned him to burn if something ever happened to her. What follows is a generally pleasing re-cap of the couples' relationship relayed through Justin's conversation with the demon (who had some rather impressive makeup) spliced with a song and dance number and several other low-cost impressive moments. However, where Lo suffers the most is in the acting department---the demon is pretty good, but the actors playing Justin and April (Ward Roberts, Sarah Lassez) come off as pretty forced, and they act like, well, they're in a low budget film. Kudos to Lo, however. I'd recommend it others. The most intriguing aspect of the film is the fact that April really isn't a woman, as gender "is a human cage," as the film puts it. Horror, as a genre, often gets to play with subversive themes of sexuality, and it's an interesting dynamic here (also in Let the Right One In). Our male protagonist is in love with something that technically doesn't have a vagina. Hmmm...

Zombies of Mass Destruction (2008) -- Speaking of gays in the horror genre, this feature debut from Kevin Hamedani is an excellent zombie satire, with, finally, a gay couple featured as our heroes. Though extremely tongue-in-cheek and relying on humorous skewering of racist attitudes (Romero's films are all about capitalism, after all) the film tells the story of zombie infestation in Port Gamble, Washington. The film is actually about the fears of same sex marriage and also American's fears post 9/11 (apparently a few scenarios are hyperbolized incidents the director experience or heard about after 9/11). I love it when the personal gets political. And it's still a timely issue, especially concerning depictions of homosexuals in cinema, and here's an excellent use of the horror genre---a political message hiding in the guise of an indie horror film. With today's onslaught of mindless cinema, I forget what that's like sometimes. Oh, but what a treat. Excellent feature. See it if you can. It looks like a remake is already in the works.

Day 9

The Investigator (2008) -- The handful of Hungarian films I've seen make me think Hungary is a dark, dark place where they send bad, bad fairies. While not the most depressing cinema I've seen, they certainly have a corner on bleak (I actually sat through a screening of Bela Tarr's Satan's Tango - 1994 in a theater---that's 7 1/2 hours of bleaky bleakness). But the synopsis of The Investigator intrigued me, concerning a mortuary assistant, Tibor, who, to get some quick cash to pay for a surgery his mother desperately needs, he takes up on offer to commit a murder. Come to find, the man he kills is actaully his half brother. To discover why he was hired to kill his half brother, he decides to investigate. What ensues is a noirish tangle of events that becomes a rather dark comedy. Zsolt Anger's performance as Tibor is quite excellent, for as emotionless as his character is, one ends up beginning to be amused by him and hopes he gets away with murder. The film might seem to lag a little bit in the middle, but certainly is worth a look, especially considering it is the first feature length film from Attila Galambos.

Day 10

Moon (2008) -- The first feature from Duncan Jones (son of David Bowie) came to the festival, and though it's receiving a bit of attention and will be released in theaters next month, I wanted to hear Jones speak after the film (one of the few filmmakers to grace Minneapolis with their presence). An impressive debut, considering the only person onscreen is basically Sam Rockwell, an astronaut collecting energy resources on the moon on a 3 year contract, whose only interaction is with computer, Gerty (voiced by Kevin Spacey). Set a mere two weeks before he is scheduled to return to Earth, shit hits the fan when Rockwell discovers another version of himself on an outing, which may or may not be his replacement. Regardless, with a dawning horror, both men come to realize what's going on, and just what it means to have your contract expire. The film, overall, is quite good. Perhaps a little slow, a beautiful score, gorgeous cinematography and an exceptional performance from Rockwell more than overcome any pacing problems. I came away feeling a bit down, the film's really quite depressing, but an excellent piece of sci-fi.

The Home of Dark Butterflies (2008) -- A beautiful to watch, albeit melodramatic feature, The Home of Dark Butterflies was the Finnish Oscar submission for Best Foreign Film. Deemed a lost cause delinquent since he was a small child, our protagonist Juhani is sent to a boy's reformatory school on an island. Juhani (Niilo Syvaoja) is supposed to be about 13, and the other boys are around the same age, yet many of them look to be nearing 20. Juhani is introduced to the headmaster, Olavi (played by Tommi Korpela, apparently a big deal in his native region, though I thought he looked eerily similar to the creepy Willem Dafoe), who we assume will turn out to be a Grade A asshole, but really turns out to be a swell guy. Through flashback we come to find out why Juhani, seemingly mild mannered, has been put through the foster system even though his parents are still alive. So as not to ruin any specific twists, I won't reference why here, however, the film tends to grapple with way too many heavy handed issues (suicide, adultery, infanticide, murder). And when the reform school loses funding, Olavi gets the idea to sell silk via silk worm butterflies (of the title!) whose unhatched eggs come to symbolize the boys on the island. Though not entirely hopeless and certainly not without humanity, the film tells a decent yarn about redemption and perseverance.


Last Day

The Chaser (2008) -- An excellent, impressive and edge of your seat debut from South Korea's Na Hong-jin, The Chaser, upsettingly, is already set to be remade for English speaking audiences, which is quite a shame, considering there is absolutely nothing wrong with this work. Joong-ho, a police detective turned pimp is trying to find out where several of his girls have disappeared to. Assuming they have been abducted and sold into sex trafficking or they've simply run away, the film rather quickly develops into a thrilling chase as Joong-ho follows Mi-Jin, a prostitute working for him, and discovers a serial killer has been disposing of the women. What ensues is a film that is difficult to sit through due to some extremely well developed, nail-biting tension. I loved it! Interestingly, I found a lot of the attitude about the extremely inept South Korean police force to be parallel to the 80's set Memories of Murder (2003) by Bong Joon-ho. And Kim Yun-seok, who plays Joong-ho in The Chaser has to be the most likeable pimp you'll ever root for, at least in anything I can recall at the moment. Certain to get a wider release stateside, I can't wait to see more from this director.

Apron Strings (2008) -- As my last film at the festival, I was pleased at this new offering from New Zealand, Apron Strings, which juxtaposes two families and their slightly intertwining dynamics. A white family which consists of a mother, her deadbeat son, estranged pregnant daughter and her kindly old mother, and a Muslim family, consisting of two estranged sisters, one of whom is a famous chef on television, and whose gay son treks out to discover his long lost aunt. However, said aunt has some issues with the sister that ran away with her white husband and got pregnant, and then really has some issues with the nephew being gay. An interesting critique of religion, racism, and views on sexuality in New Zealand, I quite enjoyed this first feature length debut from Sima Urale, even if it leaned on the saccharine side sometimes. And actress Laila Rouass, who plays Anita, the chef, is one of the most gorgeous women I've seen in film.

While She Was Out: A Kim & Alec Bedtime Story

Once in while, lovers of so-bad-it's-good cinema stumble upon a surprise specimen so juicily awful that their hands will shake, an excited sheen of perspiration will grace their brow, and a curious Peter Lorre expression consumes their animated visage, while a high pitched wheezing might be slightly audible due to an elevated heartbeat. Yes, that's often my reaction when I discover something so objectionably awful to the senses as a film like this week's DVD release of While She Was Out starring Oscar winning actress Kim Basinger, Craig Sheffer and Lukas Haas. First let me point you to the poster above (I also included a Peter Lorre pic. I don't look like that), and please look at what Kim is clutching to her bosom as a blonde wisp of hair escapes her strategically placed druid hood, petulantly peering out at us with an evil side-eye. No, it's not a lunch box. It's a tool box. You see, the plot of While She Was Out is this: Della Myers, an abused and disrespected suburban housewife needs to run to the local shopping mall at what appears to be around 10PM on Christmas Eve. The film opens with an angry Craig Sheffer coming home, screaming at Kim Basinger that the house is messy while he manhandles her. Please see the trailer I was able to retrieve below. Also is the terrifying parking lot scene, credited as the electrifying turning point where Lukas Haas sounds strangely prebuscent as he brandishes a gun while calling a police officer his bitch.

Trailer

Electrifying Turning Point

The scene is so hammy, it was at this point I rolled up my sleeves. The shit's gonna get dirty. Recovering from this outburst, Della remembers she has to go to the mall to get wrapping paper. It is Christmas Eve, after all. Why she waited until that evening is apparently not anything worth mentioning. Meanwhile, the mall is fucking packed and we are witness to Della panicking and flailing around while she tries to find a parking spot. Wouldn't you know it, some motherfucker in a menacing looking Plymouth has taken up two spots? Finally finding a place to park her rig, Della, angry at the world (we are supposed to presume) writes a (gasp) note that reads something like "You jerk, taking up 2 spaces. How selfish can you be?" and puts it on the windshield. We are then subject to Della wandering aimlessly around the mall, ordering a coffee from a young lady who she takes the pains to state that Della is spelled with two L's only to discover that the young lady still managed to misspell Della. She then immediately runs into an old college or high school acquaintance who seems like any other self righteous suburban mom in a nice, though obvious wig. The director's commentary informs us that this interaction is supposedly devastating to the Basinger character, humiliating, in fact. I disagree, as the entire film is quite humiliating to one's intelligence, rather.

Anyhow, finally collecting wrapping paper in what appears to be the dollar store in the mall, Della's credit card is declined (but, wise girl, she only has one card!) and, thankfully, she manages to scrape up the cash--lord, life is just so tenuous sometimes! Getting to her car, it's immediately obvious that the parking lot is supposed to appear abandoned and the mysterious Plymouth blocks Della in---they didn't like that fucking nasty note she left. As she gets out of the car, we are introduced to the gang of miscreants, led by Haas, and apparently covering all the colors of the rainbow. There's Huey, the African American -- he doesn't like it when all the other not-black gang members continually drop the N word. There's Vingh, the Vietnamese gang member, who believes in spirits ("Ain't no gun gonna kill spirit gone bad," is in fact one of the lovely pieces of dialogue) and last, but not least, is Tomas, the Hispanic gang member with the heavy accent. Jumping out of their car, they berate Della, calling her a cunt and a bitch and something about sucking dick, etc, the usual epithets. Strangely, Della ("What game are you playing? I don't know this game") actually tells them to fuck off and pushes two of them. A police officer comes out of nowhere and licketysplit, before you know it, Haas shoots the cop in the head. And you only know this catastrophic piece will only get worse. Della tears off in her vehicle and the chase is on! Crashing her car into what appears to be a pile of lumber, Della grabs her trusty toolbox and heads for the hills with the Culture Club right on her heels. Chasing her through the woods, with Haas screaming Della over and over again in what sounds like a mimicry of Brando shouting Stella in A Streetcar Named Desire, the gang exchanges atrociously written dialogue concerning what type of perfume Basinger is wearing ("I think it's that number 5 shit, Chanel") and, wouldn't you know it, Haas can smell that she's bleeding and sense when one of his own is hurt. Thankfully, Della is not on her period as I'm sure he would have been able to smell that, too, as is always the case in films that try this hard to be grotesque and thrilling. One by one, Della uses a tool to pick off every minority until, alone with Haas, the only white gang member, we are treated to some extremely awkward scenery in which Basinger gets all sexual with Haas, using her other box, so to speak, as a tool before she kills him, with the assistance of a flare that looks like a glowstick. Since it was alluded that Basinger's housewife character has been taking classes in Mechanics, we are treated to Basinger skipping back to her vehicle impaled by a tree (though she was seemingly chased miles into the forest) where she fiddles with the battery and with a spark and a sizzle she backs that baby up and heads home to wrap some presents, badly singing some Christmas carols ("I'll Be Home For Christmas" of course) along the way. (I think "Blue Christmas" would have been more funny, but since I can't take credit for this awesome concept film....). The ending, of course, is predictable as all get out, considering she has discovered her primordial ferocity in the primeval woods so is now ready to defend herself from her comically abusive husband. Let Craig Sheffer's presence here be a lesson to all of you once successful actors---if you take a job in a poorly written television series (ahem, "One Tree Hill) it will affect your decision making skills to such an extent that you may very well end up in the stinky armpit of bad cinema. Urine Runs Through It (1992), was that the Brad Pitt/Craig Sheffer movie that got all that attention?

Yes, that's the plot to While She Was Out. I am not even fibbing one bit. Not only did it receive a theatrical release, but some people even gave it decent reviews! I don't think I've seen something so gloriously unintentionally bad since Showgirls (1995), in which there was such a convergence of hammy acting, dialogue, music, and a behind the scenes extra that takes the cake. I am writing this in between my slowly gestating film festival coverage because I felt the world needed to know about this stupefying specimen just begging to be loved and taken seriously. I attempted to find people commenting on the behind the scenes footage and am disappointed to have found little written. If you are reading this and happen to see the movie you have to watch the behind the scenes footage in which all the cast members, the director (Susan Montford, an Irish woman wearing costume jewelry and a crooked wig), and a producer that looks like gas station attendant, are all incessantly raving about how deep and serious this film is. The gas station attendant producer actually calls the first half of the film "gruelling" and that it is overall "electrifying." The real treat, however, is Basinger herself, who seems to have taken a mixture of prescription drugs directly before the behind the scene interview began. Several times she trails off, speaks loudly, doesn't complete her sentences before randomly changing the subject while her unfocused eyes look wide and vacant as she speaks about her chemistry with Haas as an actor. And speaking of Haas, he goes on and on about how much fun he had with the role, how challenging it was to be filming (in what the director referred to as the primeval feeling woods of Vancouver) with rocks and streams and steep inclines, and how much he appreciates portraying multifaceted characters. I wanted whoever the interviewer was to ask him what he though was multifaceted. And Basinger, of course, had the typical "I had to reach inside to such a deep place in myself" monologue about her abused housewife role, exclaiming how wondrous it was to reach inside and find the "ferociousness" of this woman ("I love that word!" she states, but in such a way that sounds like saying it gave her an orgasm). And, speaking of abused housewives and Kim Basinger, yup, you guessed it --- gas station mechanic producer man states in the director's commentary that he though Basinger was so good she must have been channeling her relationship with Alec Baldwin. Wow.

So, if you like trashy fun or just see something tragically wrong with Kim Basinger, watch this film. I actually am a Basinger fan and she looks extraordinary still, but she's acting like Sharon Stone right around the time she had that aneurysm. While she was in, she was a victim. While she was out, she was hunted! Oh lord, I love it! If I was pitching the concept: Della Myers -- Touched By a ToolBox. Or While She Was Out: A Lobotomy Tale or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Appear In Any Old Silly Moving Picture.