Out of the Past: The Week In Film

Cess Pool Cinema:
1. The Reaping (2007) Dir. Stephen Hopkins - US

The Banal, the Blah, the Banausic:
NA

Astounding Cinema:
5. La Haine (1995) Dir. Matthieu Kassovitz - France
4. Monsieur Hire (1989) Dir. Patrice Leconte - France
3. La Femme Publique (1984) Dir. Andrzej Zulawski - France
2. Irina Palm (2007) Dir. Sam Garbarski - UK
1. Happiness (1998) Dir. Todd Solondz - US

Theatrical Releases:
2. G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra (2009) Dir. Stephen Sommers - US 1/10
1. Inglourious Basterds (2009) Dir. Quentin Tarantino - US 10/10

Re-watched Goodies:
1. Damage (1992) Dir. Louis Malle - UK/France
2. The Eyes of Laura Mars (1978) Dir. Irvin Kershner - US
3. Nighthawks (1981) Dir. Bruce Melmoth - US

Well no mediocrity this week, which is a good thing--but certainly a shit-tastic piece of cinema honor goes out to the Religi-Horror flick, The Reaping (2007). Sadly, this icky little piece of tripe has at least four respectable people involved. Director Stephen Hopkins has an interesting resume of helming some solid flicks (Under Suspicion, 2ooo), Hollywood poop (Lost in Space, 1998), and utter shit like A Nightmare on Elm Street: The Dream Child (1989)----and then there's Predator 2 (1989), which is maybe just campy crap. And then there's two-time Oscar winner Hilary Swank headlining with backup from solid players like Idris Elba (I can forgive Obsessed, 2009, but this?) and child actor AnnaSophia Robb (Sleepwalking, 2008). And most unforgivable, wonderful character actor Stephen Rea (who must have wanted a paycheck) has an utterly thankless role as a spooked priest from Swank's past. Sigh. Swank plays a once ordained missionary who loses her family to some ignorant Africans who believe the slaughter of her family will bring the rain. At least that's how she explains it. I'm certain that a bunch of white people handing out condescending literature might have had its toll as well---but we ignore those details in these missionary slaughter cases. Regardless, Swank does a 180 and turns her back on God, making it her earthly mission to now discover scientific explanations for all known miracle experiences world round. Well, that sounds like she has a lot of downtime between assignments. Plus, don't these ordained people read the book of Job? I mean shit, that's supposed to be the point of suffering---you don't lose faith. Dummies. Well, a series of plagues (like the ten we see to much more thrilling effect in hammy Easter fare like The Ten Commandments, 1956, but only because I love to imitate Anne Baxter's incredulously campy utterances of "Moses! Moses! Why of all men did I fall in love with a prince of fools?") has hit a small hick town called Haven. Swank urges the school teacher that seeks her help to contact the television stations. At the point where he states that Haven is the "best kept secret of the Bible belt," I knew I was going to HATE this film. Meaning, do I feel bad about a bunch of ignorant red necks being punished and confused? Hell no! So, we spend the movie just knowing Swank HAS to be proven wrong (what's the point, otherwise?) and of course, they try a silly little twist-a-roo, which just doesn't make any sense. Why are we at war in Iraq and Afghanistan when it's plausible to have "secrets" in the Bible belt, inhabited by people about as befuddled as we consider Middle Eastern terrorists?

Speaking of miscreants, I finally got around to watching Matthieu Kassovitz's landmark film, La Haine (1995) concerning immigrants and social unrest in France---Hmmm, funny how this doesn't look too different from the American lower classes.....Hmmmm......Anyhow, my apologies to Kassovitz---I'm sorry about your recent shit storms with the American studios---you can make better films in France anyway---I'm sure that Jodie Foster hardly meant to expose you to such bastards when she began to champion La Haine stateside. Starring the always creepy looking Vincent Cassel, as well as excellent performances from Said Taghmaoui and Hubert Kounde, the film is like a black and white nightmare of fuckups until the breathtaking final moments. I mean breathtaking because I actually did feel numb after watching 90 minutes of careless abandon, followed by an ending that shocked me out of my stupor.

Another major Gallic director whose films I just haven't tapped into is Patrice Leconte. His highly regarded 1989 thriller Monsieur Hire starring a young Sandrine Bonnaire and a creepy performance from Michel Blanc, ends up being a depressive little sad sack tale about a social outcast. Wholly engaging and in the end, effective, I'm not sure how much of a thriller it ends up being, though the film begins with the murder of a young woman, whom the police seem desperate to pin on Blanc's character, a maladjusted, lonely, bald man. We become more drawn into the other plot line, which involves Blanc's object of affection, Bonnaire, his next door neighbor he not very secretly peeps at.

One of my all time favorite directors is Andrzej Zulawski---mostly for his excellent, excellent,
excellent little horror art-house/domestic drama, Possession (1981). His followup was 1984's La Femme Publique, recently given a state of the art DVD release by Mondo. Starring relatively unknown (and inexperienced) actress Valerie Kaprisky, the film centers on a young woman, seemingly paid only for her nude (and campy) photo sessions, who decides, on a whim, to audition for a role in an independent film version of Dostoevsky's The Possessed, which is also translated sometimes as The Devils. Watching this with an experienced conneiseur film friend of mine (which helps---sometimes you have to be in the right mood for auteur art-house), we discussed what filmmakers are intending when they make films about the making of films. La Femme Publique seems to be about differentiating between the real and unreal. Kaprisky fluctuates between a volatile relationship with the film's director (played by Francis Huster) and a Czech immigrant (Lambert Wilson of The Matrix Reloaded, 2003, fame), whose recently murdered wife was also sleeping with the director. Much of Kaprisky's utterly crazy role-playing with Wilson could or could not be only in her head. Huster actually fires her from film production, seemingly irritated with her inexperience as an actress. Reading up about Kaprisky, the year before, she starred in the American remake of Jean-Luc Godard's Breathless. The criticism of her performance seemed to be identical to Huster's criticism of her acting in La Femme Publique. Food for thought, but I definitely feel, as with all of Zulawski's work, a second or third viewing may be needed for a decent critique.

My number two pick this week nearly nabbed my number one spot. Rock legend Marianne Faithful stars in Irina Palm (2007) as Maggie, a London grandma whose grandson needs an experimental and expensive surgery or he will die. Without skills and too old to be hired by anyone, Faithful ends up being hired as masturbator of men in a sex club (behind an enclosed room of glory holes) and yeah, that's what she's peeking through on the poster. Why? She has extraordinarily soft hands, earning her the stage name, Irina Palm. Many criticized the film for being implausible---I didn't find aspects of it that unbelievable, and I thought the film was quite enjoyable and heartfelt. And it's a joy to see Marianne Faithful in such a strange little piece of cinema (and I've been youtubing all 1960's videos of her singing "As Tears Go By," before the drug-addled street living she experienced, thanks to Mick Jagger).

And my number one spot goes to Todd Solondz's Happiness (1998), which is his customarily dark, ironic, uncomfortable, and funny work. Having owned it for sometime, I plan on seeing his latest film, Life During Wartime (2009) at this year's Toronto Film Festival fest, which uses all the same characters from Happiness, but with different actors, so I finally caught up with this infamous piece. If you haven't heard of or seen Happiness but enjoyed Palindromes (2004) or Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995), you should definitely pick up a copy. Concerning, loosely, three depressing or depressed sisters (played by Lara Flynn Boyle, Jane Adams, and Cynthia Stevenson), their divorcing and depressing parents (Ben Gazarra and Louise Lasser), along with other creepy, sexually frustrated people that seem to connect on different levels with at least one of the characters, including Camryn Manheim and Philip Seymour Hoffman, everyone is unhappy and/or sexually frustrated. Most disturbing of all, of course is Dylan Baker as Cynthia Stevenson's husband, who likes to have sex with little boys. Ultimately hard hitting in ways you may not realize as you watch it, Happiness is about the lack of it. Definitely don't watch it before planning to do something fun. Brilliant.

A quick comment on re-watched films---I forgot how frightening Faye Dunaway sometimes looks in The Eyes of Laura Mars, and how old Tommy Lee Jones kind of looked then. I also forgot how stuck in the 1970's it is. Brad Dourif is enjoyable, as well as the very gay Rene Auberjonois (looking like Edith from "All in the Family") who I refer to as Rene Azerbaijan, since that seems easier to pronounce.

As for Nighthawks, where we get about 30 seconds of Lindsay Wagner (the "Bionic Woman"), it just seems ridiculous that Sly Stallone was once supposed interesting enough to carry a film. It's good seeing Billy Dee Williams in top form, and Rutger Hauer during the beginning of his hey-day. But the film doesn't hold up well---dull, dull, dull until it's entertaining conclusion.