Movie Loner

I know I’m old when the ’90s start getting the nostalgic treatment on film. The 1990s, really? Ah, it was bound to happen. Since the first decade of the 21st century is coming to a quick end, I guess this is as good a time as any to begin looking back at the last decade of the 20th century. The nineties were a groundswell for pop culture. Music, television, movies and the Internet broke loads of new ground. Hip-hop slid into the mainstream, grunge came and went, Tarantino became a household name and the war between PCs and Apple kicked off. Time to take a trip back to 1994, when Biggie was alive and heavy metal was dead. Let’s experience The Wackness.

It’s the summer of ‘94 in New York City. Recent high school grad Luke Shapiro has no friends, but he does have a profitable marijuana selling business. He also gets free therapy from Dr. Jeff Squires (Ben Kingsley) in exchange for some of his stash. Dr. Jeff attempts to help Luke with his problems, in particular, those of the female variety. Luke’s crush happens to be Jeff’s stepdaughter Stephanie, who has Luke locked in the friend zone. Poor Luke can’t help himself though. His obsession with Stephanie heightens once the two start hanging out together. A bored Stephanie gives in to Luke’s desires, which results in him mistaking a summer fling for true love. As the summer winds down, Luke must pick up the pieces of his crumbling life.

The months between the end of high school and the next phase of life has always been common fodder for screenwriters and filmmakers. Writer/Director Jonathan Levine accurately captures the freedom and fear of this time. Luke is symbolic of all teens in that he is about to embark on his personal journey, but lacks the social skills required to handle life on his own. He has no understanding of love and friendship, nor should he at age 18. By contrast, Jeff is an adult who never really grew up. He can’t identify with his wife, which is why their marriage is failing. His relationship with Luke is his most stable, although it could be construed as somewhat pathetic that a 50-year-old hippie is pals with an 18-year-old loner.

Kingsley is amazing in his portrayal of Squires. Watching the guy who played Gandhi take bong hits and screw a young girl in a phone booth is quite a departure, but Kingsley pulls it off with gusto. I find it refreshing to see an actor having fun with a role and Kingsley clearly seems to be enjoying himself throughout. Josh Peck isn’t in the league of Kingsley, but he holds his own as Luke. His misguided romantic endeavors are something all guys who’ve ever had their heart stomped on can relate to. The Wackness slipped in and out of theaters briskly last year. It deserves a watch, especially if you’re a thirty-something like me who remembers the ’90s fondly.

No Comments »

Film, first and foremost, is a visual medium. Watch Sergei Eisenstein and D.W. Griffith and you’ll realize dialogue is not necessary to convey a structured plot. Movies like The Battleship Potemkin and Intolerance laid the groundwork in the early 20th century. Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton took silent film to another level, but since “talkies” took over in the 1930s, movies have often become too reliant on dialogue. The French are one of the few practitioners who still regard sparse dialogue as a viable technique to utilize in cinema. Contemporary filmmakers such as Francois Ozon and Claire Denis often prefer to concentrate on mise-en-scene instead of words. It’s not for everyone, but cineastes who enjoy a more experimental style appreciate the creative choice.

Has anyone read Billy Budd by Herman Melville? Do people still read? Melville’s story is set aboard a French warship in the year 1797. It deals with a conflict between a young seaman (Budd) and the ship’s Master-at-Arms, John Claggart. Jealousy leads to murder. It’s a great read that is often interpreted as as a retelling of Jesus and Judas. To be honest, it’s so dense it’s open to several different interpretations. A classic film version of the tale – directed by Peter Ustinov – was released in 1962, but if you’re searching for a more modern and esoteric re-imagining, look no further than Beau Travail. French auteur Claire Denis created a visual masterpiece back in 1999 that is more than worth your time.

In the Gulf of Djibouti – near the Red Sea – is home to a company of French Legionnaires. Amidst the searing desert heat, three men become embroiled in a conflict of wills. Commander Forestier, Master Sergeant Galoup and a charismatic recruit named Sentain form a bizarre triangle. Sentain’s youth, skill and popularity draws the attention of both Forestier and Galoup. Forestier admires the young man’s leadership and heroism, while Galoup views him as a threat. Galoup’s envy of Sentain soon transforms to rage. Forestier’s favoritism serves only to deepen Galoup’s hatred toward Sentain. A physical confrontation between the two opposing forces ends badly for both. Galoup’s misplaced jealousy results in his personal and professional undoing.

Denis invents an operatic atmosphere for the film. Routine daily activities become balletic displays of male bodies in motion. The repetition of ironing a shirt, group exercise and marching in unison assume an almost mechanical identity. Military films often delve into the theme of man being stripped of humanity by the disciplinary rigors instituted by the armed forces. Denis doesn’t expound on this idea; she allows her striking images to do the talking. The dynamics of man vs. man and man vs. self are melded with the cumulative effects of military dehumanization throughout the narrative. Denis doesn’t follow Melville’s text to the letter. She focuses her vision on the most significant element: man’s frustration with the inability to recapture youth.

The story unfolds as a series of flashbacks delivered via Galoup’s voice-over narration after the events in the desert. His thoughts are of the stream-of-consciousness variety and provide only minimal insight into his psyche. He seems to regret his actions, but not his motivations. His “present” life can best be described as mundane and lonely. Galoup lives by the code, “Serve the good cause and die.” Without the only life he knew, he is lost in a world that is foreign to him. Denis Lavant’s portrayal of Galoup is spot on; again, there isn’t much dialogue, so his physical acting defines the character. Denis has cobbled a successful career in film, but her signature work is Beau Travail. It’s far from the mainstream, which is why it’s so refreshing.

No Comments »

I love a good journey movie. You know, the kind that spans the globe and concludes with a satisfying payoff. It doesn’t have to feature exotic locales, but it helps the narrative if it does. That’s probably why I dig Bond movies so much; hopping from one cool place to another keeps things interesting. However, more important than location is the story. Enduring hardships, overcoming adversity and reaching a goal can make for a powerful film if executed correctly. The Pirates of the Caribbean is an example of a good journey movie. Another would be Vanishing Point. Each are very different but both deal with an attempt by a person or persons to achieve a goal. Like the old adage says, it’s not the destination that matters, it’s the journey. The Beautiful Country takes us on a long, heartfelt trip from Vietnam to Sweetwater, Texas.

Binh is a “bui doi,” which is the not-so-flattering term given to Vietnamese children with American fathers. It means less than dust, and Binh’s awful treatment in his homeland has labeled him an outcast. There is no longer a place for Binh in his village, so he sets off for Saigon to reunite with his long-lost mother. He finds her working as a maid and along with his younger half-brother Tam, the three attempt to make a home together. However, an unexpected tragedy forces Binh and Tam to flee Saigon for America in search of the father he’s never known.

Their travels land them in an Indonesian refugee camp where they meet Ling, a damaged young prostitute. Binh falls for Ling, but she sees him more as a friend. Wanting to see Binh and Tam get to America, Ling pays their way onto a freighter headed for the states. The ship’s captain is a human trafficker and grants Binh passage only if he agrees to work when he arrives in America. More heartache ensues, but Binh finally reaches New York City. His adventure is far from over. Emboldened by the taste of freedom, he heads to the desolate plains of Texas to find his father.

Director Hans Petter Moland and writer Sabina Murray craft three movies into one narrative. Binh’s life in Vietnam, his perilous ocean journey, and his time in America are all woven together seamlessly. The innate beauty of Vietnam contrasts wonderfully against the cramped, dingy bowels of a rusty freighter and the hustle and bustle of big city USA. Moland unfolds an epic story that defines the dangers of immigrating to a foreign country. Scared and virtually alone, Binh must fight every step of the way to stay alive and protect those he loves. His quest is sad, but also inspirational and admirable.

Damien Nguyen shines in his debut big-screen performance as Binh. Nguyen tackles a difficult role fearlessly; he hurdles a range of emotions from sad and lonely to courageous and determined. Asking an inexperienced actor to carry a film of this magnitude is risky, but Nguyen delivers at every turn. Binh constantly being referred to as “ugly” does nothing to lessen his internal kindness. All he wants is to locate his place in the world, to gain acceptance into a family and to establish his own identity. Bai Ling, Tim Roth and Nick Nolte provide solid support. Roth, in particular, is quite convincing as the hardened Captain Oh. Movies like The Beautiful Country can easily slip into the overblown melodrama category, but this one steers clear thanks to great direction and outstanding performances. It’s a journey movie worth your time.

No Comments »

I’m always amazed at the subjects that make for interesting documentaries. On first thought, an expose on a video game popularized during the 1980s wouldn’t seem to be compelling fodder for a film. Sure, video games have become a permanent part of the pop culture lexicon, but watching introverted nerds play with their joysticks isn’t my idea of fun. That being said, I’m glad I’m not a closed-minded person unwilling to sample movies outside my wheelhouse, because Seth Gordon’s The King of Kong is one helluva documentary. It has drama, intrigue, humor and yes, I’m not joking, a villain. You don’t have to know anything about video games to enjoy this award-winning movie.

In the early ’80s, Billy Mitchell set what seemed an insurmountable record on the video game “Donkey Kong.” Mitchell held the record for nearly 25 years and parlayed his “fame” into icon status in the realm of gaming. Flash forward to 2006. Recently laid off teacher Steve Wiebe decides to dedicate himself to toppling Mitchell’s record. Upon purchasing a Donkey Kong arcade machine for his garage, Wiebe masters the game on his way to becoming the undisputed champ. Or so he thinks. What ensues is a fascinating and perturbing journey into the incestuous, corrupt world of professional video gaming. A world where Wiebe is viewed as an outsider. He soon learns that Billy Mitchell will do whatever it takes to keep his spot on top.

What an excellent film. Director Seth Gordon weaves an intricate tale of one man’s reach for greatness, and another man’s refusal to relinquish the last vestiges of fame. Finding interesting subjects based in reality is not easy, but Gordon struck gold when he found this bunch. Led by the mullet-haired Mitchell, we are introduced to a traveling circus of characters whose dogged pursuit of perfection and glory tests their sanity. Sympathizing with Wiebe is easy after witnessing the blockades he must endure just to break a stupid record. His tears of frustration are genuine. Meanwhile, the arrogant Mitchell and his band of spineless cronies bring new meaning to the term “pricks.”

Gordon deftly builds suspense throughout. Will Wiebe gain respect? Is Mitchell as big a fool as he appears? Will the two go head-to-head to claim the Donkey Kong crown? Films like this provide telling evidence to what dishonest assholes we as human beings can be. These guys aren’t acting; what you see is who they are. I’ve always wondered if people watch themselves after being interviewed for a documentary and realize how idiotic they sound. Do they not hear what they’re saying when the cameras are rolling? Do they even care? Watch The King of Kong and you’ll know what I’m talking about. This is a film definitely worth your time.

The trailer for The King of Kong:

No Comments »

Sean Penn is a great actor. I doubt you’ll get much of an argument from most people on that declaration. However, his ability as a Writer/Director is debatable. Penn’s first three films as Director -The Indian Runner, The Crossing Guard and The Pledge – all had moments of greatness, but on the whole they failed to be complete narratives. They were dark, maudlin stories that tip-toed the line of self-indulgent melodrama. Penn has concentrated on his stellar acting career in recent years having not donned the Directing cap since 2001. That was until last year, when Penn chose to adapt Jon Krakauer’s best-selling novel Into the Wild. It is easily Penn’s best film behind the camera and one of 2007’s top movies.

In 1990, Christopher McCandless graduates from college and does something totally out of the ordinary. He donates his life savings to charity, rips-up his social security card, burns his loose cash and sets-off on a solitary journey of self-discovery. Telling no one – including his family – Christopher rejects a life of boardroom meetings and material obsession. Instead, he wanders off the grid to become one with nature. After assuming the name “Alexander Supertramp,” his travels take him west where he meets a host of memorable characters: hippie-couple Jan and Rainey, who play the role of surrogate parents; legally-challenged vagabond farmer Wayne Westberberg, who plays big-brother to Alex; lonely leather engraver Ron Franz, who willingly accepts a grandfatherly role.

Alex swims the Pacific, kayaks the Colorado River, rides the Southern California rails and climbs the hills around the Salton Sea. He leaves all his relationships behind, believing he needs only his books and wits to survive the Alaskan Wilderness. Alex settles in an abandoned school bus and makes a home for himself. The harsh and often cruel realities of nature prove difficult for Alex. Permanent solitude does not equate to happiness. However, this realization comes too late for Alex. His desperation to survive leads to carelessness, which brings a tragic end to Alex’s courageous exit from modern society.

Sean Penn hit this story out of the park. It is one of the most original character studies I have ever seen. Penn jumps back-and-forth in time, utilizing pinpoint flashbacks, to unfold a multi-layered narrative. It would be easy to define McCandless as a crazy anti-establishment rich kid, but there was much more to his character. He was an intelligent, caring and fearless young man who lived his life his way. Penn refuses to judge McCandless for his choices. To do so would be irresponsible and unfair. Instead, the Writer/Director presents the truth of his protagonist’s existence, and allows the audience to formulate their own opinion.

Emile Hirsch delivers a spot-on performance in the lead role. His ability to capture the essence of McCandless makes the film work. The success of Into the Wild depended largely on Hirsch’s portrayal of a very complex man. How Hirsch didn’t get an Oscar nod is puzzling. He carries the film on his shoulders, aided by Penn’s steady direction. Quality additional support comes from Hal Holbrook (in an Oscar nominated performance), Vince Vaughn, William Hurt, Marcia Gay Harden and the always-convincing Catherine Keener. Gorgeous cinematography and a dynamite soundtrack featuring songs from Eddie Vedder accentuate an expertly-structured screenplay. Into the Wild is a thought-provoking film that deserved many more accolades than it received last year.

The trailer for Into the Wild:

No Comments »

In 1978, Aldo Moro – leader of the Italian Christian Democratic Party – was kidnapped and later assassinated by a militant Communist faction called the Red Brigades. Moro was a staunch supporter of the Compromesso storico or Historic Compromise, which was supposed to unite the Christian Democrats and the Communist Party. Moro believed in a unified Italy, a country together, rather than one divided by political or socioeconomic  differences. He fought tirelessly to make his vision a reality, but his tragic death put an end to his idea. Good Morning, Night documents the last days of Moro, from the point of view of the lone female kidnapper.

Four members of the Red Brigades kidnapped Moro and held him captive in a cramped apartment for 55 days. Chiara, a young, impressionable woman, and three men take up residence to keep watch on the political prisoner. While Mariano – the Brigades leader – conducts detailed interrogations with Moro, Chiara goes to her job as a librarian, where she befriends a radical screenwriter named Enzo, who doesn’t share Chiara’s Communist beliefs. When she returns to the apartment, Chiara spends her time peering through the peephole in Moro’s cell. Her fascination with the larger-than-life figure conflicts with her political ideology. The longer she watches the crestfallen man the more sympathy she gains for him. Despite knowing his inevitable fate, Chiara begins to question her comrades if killing the statesman is the right action to take. Her reservations, of course, are ignored, but Chiara’s dreams tell a different story. A story that ends with Moro’s freedom.

Director Marco Bellocchio does an excellent job of maintaining suspense, even though the audience is aware of the outcome. By embedding the narrative inside the life of Chiara, he is able to reveal her complex psyche as well as her vivid dreams. We are shown Moro through her naive, curious gaze. She is too young to fully comprehend her actions nor the political motives that precipitated them. Unlike her Brigade brethren, she sees Moro as a man, not just a figure-head or symbol. The tears Chiara cries over Moro’s final letter of appeal are not tears of happiness, but rather tears of sympathy and regret. As much as she’d like to change Moro’s fate, she lacks the courage and conviction to martyr herself.

Several techniques are employed to heighten the drama. Pink Floyd’s masterful “The Great Gig in the Sky” provides a foreboding, eerie aura to the inevitable events depicted. The ethereal song also enhances Chiara’s intricate reveries. Also significant to the narrative is the omnipresent television which constantly blares in the background; it acts as an unofficial narrator by providing periodic updates to the story’s timeline. There are very few moments in the film when it fails to be heard.

Performance wise, the film belongs to Roberto Herlitzka as Moro, and Maya Sansa as Chiara. Herlitzka – who bears a striking resemblance to the real Moro – brings an admirable toughness to the character. Although visibly frustrated, he never loses composure, and keeps hold of his dignity and honor. Sansa is asked to carry the film and she succeeds. Her soft inner emotions betray a cold, indifferent exterior. She carries respect and feels compassion for Moro, which makes her performance that much more compelling. Good Morning, Night is another fantastic film that eluded American viewers a few years back. Do yourself a service and see this fine docudrama.

No Comments »

Roy Scheider was one of those actors who, in my opinion, never received his just praise. He did nab two Oscar nominations (All that Jazz, The French Connection) but starred in countless noteworthy films including Klute, Jaws, Marathon Man, Sorcerer, and Naked Lunch. Best known for his portrayal of Chief Martin Brody in Jaws, Scheider played several memorable characters in many underrated movies. One such movie is 52 Pick-Up, a taut extortion thriller featuring a variant collection of oddballs and sleazebags.

Harry Mitchell (Scheider) leads a successful life in Los Angeles. He owns his own company, drives deluxe sports cars, and has a beautiful wife named Barbara (Ann-Margret). On the surface, everything seems splendid. However, Harry’s clandestine activities, which involve an extramarital affair, land him in deep water with three creepy blackmailers. He is ordered to pay 100K or an incriminating tape will be released. Harry doesn’t take the thugs seriously until they resort to threats and murder. But rather than cooperate, Harry flips the script: Using $52,000 as bait he pits the terrible trio against one another. What ensues is a battle of wits between Harry and the lead blackmailer, a crazed menace named Alan, who will stop at nothing to collect the cash.

A world without morals. That’s what Director John Frankenheimer and writer Elmore Leonard have crafted in 52 Pick-Up. The only redeemable character is Barbara, but her motives are questionable when you consider her profession is in politics. Harry, in the role of hero, seems right at home mingling with low-rent criminals and their lawless nature. Are we meant to root for Harry, despite his lies and infidelity? Should we be sympathetic because he carries a heavy tax burden? He is the lesser of two evils, but arrogance and selfishness are to blame for his predicament. Alan and his pals live an unscrupulous existence; their behavior, while inexcusable, is befitting their place in society. Harry, on the other hand, is supposed to be an upstanding citizen and yet finds himself, through all fault of his own, embroiled with seedy criminals. The story unfolds as a cautionary tale: Playing in the devil’s playground even once will ultimately get you burned.

Frankenheimer, known for action films, eschews elaborate car chases or prolonged shootouts and relies on character to steer the plot. We meet several disparate people, from a seductive stripper to a whacked-out killer, all of whom display the gamut of emotions that define the human condition: rage, fear, guilt and desperation. Scheider plays Harry as a clever, assured man who knows he holds an intellectual advantage over his enemy. Harry treads unfamiliar territory but does so confidently. John Glover steals the movie portraying Alan Raimy, an opportunistic hood with a Baltimore accent. Glover pulls off a difficult double-play; he’s funny and scary. Based on crime master Elmore Leonard’s best-selling novel, 52 Pick-Up deals with deranged people navigating a sea of corruption. It’s far from groundbreaking, but does a fine job of keeping your attention.              

The trailer for 52 Pick-Up:

No Comments »

I have some leftovers from Shocktober. Although, Blood and Chocolate is not what I would consider horror. I lump it into the same grouping as An American Werewolf in London, which mixes dark comedy, romance and horror. Now American Werewolf also had its share of gore but the central theme had more to do with David’s transformation from boy to man, than man to wolf. But I digress. Blood and Chocolate combines young love with fantasy and comes away looking more like an extended episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the TV show) than a straightforward werewolf flick. With that in mind, it still possesses enough elements to qualify entry into the scare genre.

Welcome to Bucharest, Romania. Home of the famous Cismigiu Gardens, the Arcul de Triumf, and the Loup-Garoux. Beautiful gardens, a giant arch and a pack of ancient werewolves. Also calling this historic city home is Vivian (Agnes Bruckner), a reserved teen betrothed to the leader of the Loup-Garoux, Gabriel (Olivier Martinez). Torn by her innate affliction, Vivian is not particularly fond of her ancestors’ bloodthirst. Her misgivings attract the suspicious eye of her cousin Rafe, a loose-cannon wolf boy who is heir to the Loup-Garoux throne. Complicating matters further for Vivian is her budding relationship with only-human writer Aiden (Hugh Dancy). Vivian and Aiden are breaking werewolf law, much to the chagrin of Gabriel, who views all non-shape-shifters as the enemy. Unwilling to halt their dangerous liaison, the young lovers find themselves at war with the Loup-Garoux, who will fight to the death to preserve their primeval legacy.

Werewolves, MTV style. That’s basically what we got here. Lots of attractive, nubile bodies writhing shirtless in the woods. How can you find fault in that? Director Katja von Garnier adds another chapter to her female empowerment series: femme fatale criminals in Bandits, women’s suffrage in Iron Jawed Angels, and now lady lycanthropes in Blood and Chocolate. Vivian plays the typical adolescent girl defying her family’s wishes in an effort to live her own life on her own terms. Her defiance of the dominant male archetypes emboldens her role as feminist warrior. However, she is far from a hardened woman; It is a naive passion and love for a man that drives her to reject familial tradition. She isn’t guided by bitterness or retribution but rather hope in the future, a future filled with possibility and devoid of brutality.

The choice by screenwriters Ehren Kruger and Christopher B. Landon (also author Annette Curtis Klause) not to make Vivian some sort of superwoman is essential. Her and Aiden formulate a modernistic partnership where both strive for equal footing. Aiden is no push-over. His ability to adequately defend himself against other-worldly creatures makes him a worthy match for Vivian. Kindness, creativity, and undying loyalty are the traits that attract Vivian. For all her strength, loneliness and a sense of not belonging, make her a vulnerable character in need of support. Aiden is more than capable of providing a proverbial rock to lean on.

Stunning Bucharest architecture combined with dark untamed forests contribute an ideal backdrop for this moody story. Katja von Garnier astutely maneuvers her camera through age-old streets and inside archaic churches, not wasting any chance to show-off one of Europe’s pristine cities. The plot is a little thin, and watching the “pack” hungrily stalk its prey is silly, but the film is nevertheless entertaining. Bruckner is credible playing Vivian; she is meant to be quiet, but her face seems too vacant at times. Olivier Martinez once again butchers English, making me wish he’d just been subtitled. Although he does portray Gabriel in an appropriately menacing fashion. I wouldn’t call Blood and Chocolate a guilty pleasure but I was surprised I enjoyed it as much as I did. Not deep or revealing, it will keep your attention and in 2008 that’s a pretty high complement.

The trailer for Blood and Chocolate:

No Comments »