A genuine concept, Woody Allen’s film spends 100 minutes gasping for air like a dying fish, though not as entertainingly. The characters, when not spouting stomach-churning clichés (“You can’t go through life rubbing lamps and wishing”), state and restate the obvious; in fact, they state everything. Wallace Shawn is impish and annoying, Will Ferrell’s character was obviously written by Allen for himself, and Ferrell channels the writer-director poorly. Every other actor is deplorable save for Radha Mitchell as the titular woman and Chiwetel Ejiofor as a piano player named Ellis Moonsong. Both radiate as their respective characters; if Allen had inverted the story, structuring the plot around their scenes, the film would have been much more enjoyable.
In the words of Moonsong, “Why is it that things that start off so promisingly always have a way of ending up in the dump?” Truer words have never been spoken.
by Adam Balz | Source: 20th Century Fox DVD
27 Sep 2006 10:50 PM | Submit Comment
My admiration of Michael Gough is strengthened by a great performance; my admiration of Derek Jarman is weakened by a non-linear story and pointless narration, though the visual stagings and allusions to Caravaggio’s paintings are astounding.
by Adam Balz | Source: Cinevista VHS
27 Sep 2006 10:49 PM | Comments (2)
“You bloody whore!”
True grit doesn’t get much grittier than this, nor does Michael Caine’s hair get any wilder, nor his nostrils any wider, nor his teeth any larger. A thoroughly reprehensible and massively entertaining tale of revenge taken to its most unpleasant lengths, with more Cockney swagger and miserable Tyneside cityscapes than one can shake a shotgun at.
Factoid: Kinnear, the swish, hirsute gangster, is played by none other than Look Back in Anger playwright, John Osborne.
by Leo Goldsmith | Source: MGM DVD
27 Sep 2006 5:17 PM | Comments (2)
Bicycle Thieves obviously weighs heavily in this story of a rural immigrant to Beijing who gets his bicycle stolen while he’s on the job as a courier. His is the character — stubborn and taciturn — that director Wang Xiaoshuai seems to have the most interest in, but unfortunately the film than splits its attention by turning to a petulant Beijing schoolboy. Actually, the parallelism (rather unconvincingly, the two end up sharing the bicycle) does finally come together, but the whole effect is rather spoilt by the violent denouement. Also, Wang’s style is a little too glossy for the subject matter — something more low-budget and grittier like Uniform from Jia Zhangke protege Diao Yinan would have worked much better. Certain scenes like the handheld tracking shot following the schoolboy to the discovery of the missing bicycle, or the long static set-up inside the apartment as his father looks for his missing money, give a sense of a better direction the film could have taken.
by Ian Johnston | Source: Sony DVD
27 Sep 2006 1:19 PM | Comments (2)
Great druggie humour. Great druggie paranoia, too. And the rotoscoping animation works perfectly, a visual analogue to the shifting perceptions of reality at work in the narrative. My favourite U.S. film of 2006.
by Ian Johnston | Source:
27 Sep 2006 1:06 PM | Comments (3)
A masterpiece. Naruse may not be a stylist at the same level as the other two members of the great Japanese triumvirate (Mizoguchi and Ozu), but the sense of composition in the luminous widescreen black-and-white here is exquisite. Plus Naruse’s female characters have a lot more resonance for me — struggling to maintain their selfhood and integrity in a society whose structures inevitable oppress them, but learning ultimately to live without those weak, worthless men they are surrounded with. An ending that here, as with most great Naruse films (and unlike his most famous, Floating Clouds), doesn’t play out tragically.
by Ian Johnston | Source: DVD-R
27 Sep 2006 12:59 PM | Submit Comment
For all De Palma’s stylistic flourishes, there’s nothing here (themes and acting) that wasn’t done much better in L.A. Confidential, a film I’m not otherwise much of a fan of. Still, picking out the allusions to The Big Sleep can be fun, but to be honest we could have all done without the lurid solution to the mystery.
by Ian Johnston | Source:
27 Sep 2006 12:45 PM | Submit Comment
In her review of Murmur of the Heart Pauline Kael commends the work of Louis Malle, but attributes his relative obscurity in comparison to the more known filmmakers of the 70s to his tendency to explore a variety of themes instead of honing in on his obsession with merely a few; he’s hard to pin down, she thinks, either thematically or aesthetically one. Having seen Malle’s Lacombe, Lucien with my memory of Murmur of the Heart fresh, I find Kael’s assertion curious. The films are thematic facsimiles, and what’s remarkable about them is how dynamic the bored, totally indifferent male youths at the center of each are. Their behavior can be outright offensive, but you feel a particular fondness for them despite their actions. There is a beautiful scene in Lacombe, Lucien that finds Lucien in the middle of a gestapo skirmish, bullets flying everywhere, and he’s laughing, and probably not even paying attention. A rabbit juts across his field of view; he shoots at it, and misses. “Merde!” he says, as some of his colleagues are getting shot.
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: The Criterion Collection DVD
27 Sep 2006 11:18 AM | Submit Comment
Now, this is more like it. An all time trash masterpiece, frighteningly more relevant than ever in it’s political satire: totalitarian religious nutcase president seeks the ‘fertile fields of minority privilege’, blames everything bad on ‘the scheming and treacherous French’. The script is unbelievably tight and surprisingly witty, Tak Fujimoto’s sparkling low level photography is memorable and distinctive, and ludicrous art- subversive Paul Bartel squeezes every penny out of the miniscule budget, casting his partner in crime Mary Woronov as psycho cowgirl Calamity Jane (‘whoever named your car the bull was only half right’). Not to mention David Carradine’s growling, masked Frankenstein (‘with half a face and half a chest and all the guts in the world, he’s back!’) and Sly Stallone screaming off the blocks as Machine Gun Joe Viterbo (‘some people might think you’re cute, but to me you’re just one very large baked potato’). But the real treat is The Real Don Steele as ‘your buddy- buddy and mine’ Junior Bruce, the deranged, bloodthirsty sports commentator and government stooge: ‘Alright alright and yes, sirree! A neat kill! A clean kill! And no pain for the target!’ The long rumoured remake by tedious action- bore Paul W.S. Anderson (under the title ‘Death Race 3000’) would be better left on the shelf. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the version we have.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
27 Sep 2006 10:24 AM | Submit Comment
Is it me, or is this basically Old School in postwar Italy? I mean, no one runs down the street naked or ties a rope to their nards (regrettably), but the whole male bondo retarded adolescent fear of responsibility thing is remarkably prescient. I’d make a case for Federico Fellini as most overrated filmmaker of all time, but I think Oliver Stone and John Ford have that category all sewn up.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
27 Sep 2006 10:22 AM | Comments (15)
I’m having roommate issues at the moment, so this was a relevant bit of scheduling. Shame the movie’s such a complete turkey, though.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: FilmFour
27 Sep 2006 10:21 AM | Submit Comment
An interesting experiment that, surprisingly, works. There’s too much emphasis on gritty wordplay and not enough on character, but this is still a consistently entertaining thriller with some neat jokes and a suitably twisty plot.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
27 Sep 2006 10:19 AM | Submit Comment
This TV is brainwashing my weekend – Guy
Got the loudest laugh from me out of any new release I’ve seen this year (so far).
Charming and melancholy, with a kick ass title sequence that I’m guessing used a spirograph and some gorgeous, retro 70’s colors.
by Jenny Jediny | Source: Warner Independent Pictures 35MM Theatrical Print
26 Sep 2006 4:42 PM | Submit Comment
What brilliance The Devil and Daniel Johnston retains is in the title artist/songwriter himself, in his magic marker drawings taped to an art gallery wall, and in his profoundly, sometimes awesomely frank music. He’s somewhat of a peripheral character in his own life story, appearing on sparing occasion to verify facts given by others: that he has mental disorders, that he (now) takes lots of medication, and that he caused his father’s airplane to crash land, very nearly killing them both. In the latter instance, Johnston’s father relives the scene — how Daniel removed the keys from the ignition and threw them out the window — and comes to tears. The composition encloses Mr. Johnston’s face tightly; it’s a vindicating moment in documentary film, one that is also totally familiar and, in my eyes, entirely contrived. Much of the film is also told in Johnston’s own tape recordings; they’re sort of spoken diaries, and there are an uncountable number of them. Often, you’ll see a cassette tape (strewn in Johnston’s own cartoonish handwriting) occupying the entire frame with absolute precision. The recording ends, and you hear the sound of a stop button being released. This tactic is used repeatedly in the film, enhancing not its authenticity but its artifice. In another instance, friends recall how Daniel smacked his manager at McDonald’s with a pipe, and the composition finds a recreated crime scene: a lead pipe adjacent to some drops of blood on an immaculately lit tile floor. This strategy evokes comparisons to Errol Morris, which isn’t appropriate being as here the crime isn’t being reconsidered. It’s just an unnecessary visual aside, of which there are many in this film.
Daniel Johnston on The Henry Rollins Show
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: Sony Pictures Classics DVD
25 Sep 2006 11:46 AM | Submit Comment
I’m admittedly not a Welles-aesthete, and there seems to be a tendency among cinephiles more scrutinizing than myself to obsess over every frame of an unfinished film the man has made. From what I gather, with the formidable body of work Welles left unfinished (either that, or in a form that does not meet his exacting approval) one is left to regard its moments of genius. But I feel, with this film, the overall enterprise is only occasionally brilliant. Mr. Arkadin is also concerned with an aging and wealthy man and his obsession with his own past; and in comparison to my only point of reference it’s obviously emulative, and expectedly the lesser film. But there are many moments of genius here, and Mr. Arkadin establishes Welles’ biography as a brilliant man whose expatriation from the American film industry pushed his resources further out of his grasp.
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: The Criterion Collection DVD
25 Sep 2006 11:31 AM | Submit Comment
Made the same year as another great Mizoguchi film, Osaka Elegy, this portrait of geisha life in contemporary Gion is probably the first full expression of the director’s “signature” style, involving a constantly itinerant camera, odd high angles, and an absence of closeups (until the final shot). And like the other film, Sisters of the Gion also shows Mizoguchi’s great debt to Josef von Sternberg, with the foreground obscurities and generally murky mise-en-scene that make up the geisha’s heterocosm. It also quite neatly foreshadows Mizoguchi’s last film, Street of Shame, with which it shared a bill at Film Forum last night, and which I reviewed for Reverse Shot here.
All in all, I actually wish Mizoguchi made more of this type of film. Until the pieces of the plot fall fully into place, it’s actually quite a funny film, with Isuzu Yamada portraying a kind of plucky, Eastern version of Marlene Dietrich in the face of a cruelly indifferent masculine world. As much as I love Mizoguchi’s other films, they often veer on sadism, as in the almost unbearably grim The Life of Oharu.
by Leo Goldsmith | Source: Janus Films 35mm Print
22 Sep 2006 6:26 PM | Submit Comment
by Ian Johnston | Source: TCM
22 Sep 2006 10:28 AM | Submit Comment
“Slaves! They’re using them as slaves!” Where in the hell did Don Coscarelli get the money to make this slice of sheer, inspired lunacy? What movie exec/ studio head/ philanthropist read this script and went ‘Intergalactic zombie dwarves in a creepy funeral parlour? Flyin’ spiky silver death ball, you say? Drops him down, what, a mine shaft? Sure, kid, go ahead!’? It really, really shouldn’t work, but somehow it does, it’s riveting, funny, weirdly unsettling, a stone- cold classic. Even the acting is pretty good. But what’s with all the ‘Dune’ references?
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
21 Sep 2006 11:30 AM | Submit Comment
A genuinely odd little movie, shot on the cheap but achieving some success at Sundance. Michael Rapaport plays a depressed parking attendant who takes part is a medical study and is prescribed the eponymous mystery chemical, which makes him believe he has super powers. The only problem is, he doesn’t, he’s just very, very confused. It’s all a bit queasy in places- laughing at the mentally deranged can be a dubious business. But as the film goes on it gets darker and more serious, and infinitely more interesting. A critique of big pharma, a bizarrely philosophical mystery thriller, an elegy to the battered spirit of the common man. Definitely different.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: 35mm Print
21 Sep 2006 11:29 AM | Comments (1)
Proof that De Niro could do comedy, as long as he didn’t try to act like he was doing comedy. Once the mugging started it was all over, but here he’s playing a perfectly convincing dramatic character who just happens to be stuck in a funny movie. Martin Brest is another one of those 80’s directors who just couldn’t function without strict genre constraints (cases in point: Beverly Hills Cop and this vs. Meet Joe Black and- God save us- Gigli). Everything works perfectly here- it’s slick, exciting, likeable and genuinely funny, and populated with great 80’s supporting actors, from Charles Grodin to John Ashton via Yaphet Kotto, Dennis Farina and an inestimably nasal Joe Pantoliano.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: ITV4
21 Sep 2006 11:27 AM | Comments (1)
A movie as blank and empty as the wasteland in which it takes place. Noi is an outsider, the only albino in his remote Icelandic town. He’s a rebel, and possibly a genius. All the elements point to an interesting, offbeat character comedy, so what went wrong? For a start, there’s absolutely no plot. The action drifts, like it’s characters, from one location to another, never coalescing into anything remotely resembling a storyline. And those characters are strangely thin; like Napoleon Dynamite on a glacier, the script cobbles together a few wacky traits and calls it personality. It all ends with a devastating but completely unconvincing act of God, a desperate attempt to wrap things up which only serves to exacerbate to the directionless, nihilistic ambience of the film as a whole.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
21 Sep 2006 11:21 AM | Comments (1)
Stanley Donen’s bittersweet musings on marriage. Audrey Hepburn and Albert Finney hitchhike through Europe, fall in love, marry, and slowly fall into an acidic union. The film’s structure – along with keeping the characters eternally on the roads of France – makes it distinct, as the passage of time is jumbled and fractured through editing, leaving us to put together the pieces of a fractured relationship.
by Jenny Jediny | Source: 20th Century Fox DVD
20 Sep 2006 10:04 AM | Submit Comment
Part of a BBC travel series, this stars the Dead Parrot vendor himself, Michael Palin. Palin takes various trains from London to the Kyle of Lochalsh in Scotland (including the Flying Scotsman, which looks quite fun), reminiscing on his childhood obsession with trainspotting. I think if I had seen this as a child, I would have worn the VHS tape out and developed an enormous crush on Palin.
by Jenny Jediny | Source: VHS
20 Sep 2006 9:26 AM | Submit Comment
George Romero’s all- purpose satirical juggernaut rolls on with this belated and rather disappointing fourth chapter. The problem is simple- each of the first three films felt ahead of it’s time, taking horror into a new and uncertain place. Land Of The Dead feels like a throwback to the 70’s and ‘80’s, with Romero not only trying to recall his own Dawn Of The Dead but channelling John Carpenter- this feels a lot like Escape From New York, with it’s burly bikers and neon strip joints, and wildly unsubtle social commentary (not to mention characters with names like ‘Motown’ and ‘Pilsbury’). With the exception of a few rather crude potshots at Dubya, all of the subtext here was explored more eloquently in Dawn: commercialism, privilege, the enslavement of the masses. It’s still relevant, of course, but feels a little tired.
That said, there’s an enormous amount of enjoyment to be had from the tight plotting and breathless action, and a few gorily inventive deaths go a long way. And the final million- zombie march is suitably bleak and witty- Romero’s point being that it’s better to be a flesh eating zombie than live in the modern world.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
19 Sep 2006 4:10 AM | Submit Comment
Too much dancing, not enough Nazis. Unlike real life, which is generally the other way around.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
18 Sep 2006 4:40 PM | Submit Comment
The eagerly awaited movie adaptation of Alan Bennett’s world beating, Tony winning play is finally here, and it’s… okay. The characters are interesting but pitifully thin, the plot is pretty much nonexistent, and there’s a deeply unsettling apology for molestation that leaves a very sour taste. But there are some great scenes, a fascinating take on the meaning of teacher/ pupil roles, and Frances De La Tour, so it’s not all bad.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: 35mm Print
18 Sep 2006 4:37 PM | Submit Comment
I found this an oddly jumbled mixed bag of a movie- the characterisation is superb, as is most of the acting, particularly Steve Carell and the wonderful Abigail Breslin. But then there are moments of sheer lunacy- the body abduction feels like it wandered in from the ‘80’s, and the talent show finale is just queasy
by Tom Huddleston | Source: 35mm Print
18 Sep 2006 4:32 PM | Submit Comment
When I was about 16 I had a group of friends who would get together every Thursday night to watch this movie, over and over again. There was a certain amount of irony attached to the gesture, but the fact that they chose this particular film says something. Almost despite itself, it’s become a cult classic- the archetypal hard livin’ country rockin’ bar brawlin’ dumbbell epic, every necessary element present and accounted for, from sneering villains to hard bitten heroes, fights with knifes, bats, fists and pistols, things blowing up and of course the obligatory gurning love scene. But girls seem to love it too, presumably thanks to the Swizzler’s rippling musculature. Still, any film which has Ben Gazzara, Sam Elliott and Keith David (the latter criminally underutilised), not to mention a director by the name of Rowdy Herrington, doesn’t have to work too hard to prove it’s grizzly credentials.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: BBC1
18 Sep 2006 4:26 PM | Submit Comment
Following a year of unprecedented catastrophe and the resultant finger pointing from (and in) almost every direction, Spike Lee’s 4-hour document of hurricane Katrina emerges as the most lucid coverage of the disaster. Its range is totally inclusive, from the guy that told Dick Cheney to go fuck himself to the New Orleans residents deprived by insurance policies with hastily defined stipulations. Its commendable merits as a film are secondary to its vitality as a demonstration of the humanism that should trump politics and capitalism.
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: HBO
18 Sep 2006 11:53 AM | Comments (1)
“If you don’t like Marnie, you don’t like Hitchcock. If you don’t love Marnie, you don’t love cinema.” Robin Wood – yes… I love Marnie.
by Ian Johnston | Source: Universal DVD
16 Sep 2006 12:57 PM | Comments (6)
The best Tennessee-Williams-on-film that I know of, and one of Kazan’s best films too. Its success lies in its modesty, a thankful lack of any attempt at a Kazanian statement (cf A Face In The Crowd), the perfection of the decrepit black-and-white Southern setting, the concentration on the three perfectly-cast central characters, and the perverse sexuality that the fillmakers were by all accounts not entirely aware of.
by Ian Johnston | Source: Warners DVD
16 Sep 2006 12:54 PM | Submit Comment
The critical consensus seems to be that Brooks’ later Williams adaptation Sweet Bird of Youth is a pale shadow of his success with Cat…, but I’m not sure if I don’t prefer Bird (not that it’s that successful…). Cat is Hollywood’s idea of a serious adaptation of a hit play, inevitably bowdlerised, but weighed-down too by its plodding obviousness, a lot of emotional fireworks with little depth, conviction, or emotional force.
by Ian Johnston | Source: Warners DVD
16 Sep 2006 12:45 PM | Submit Comment
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: The Criterion Collection DVD (reissue)
15 Sep 2006 11:04 AM | Submit Comment
What a great movie. Absurdly entertaining performances from the likes of Little Richard, the Platters, and Fats Domino, absurdly cartoonish humor, and Jayne Mansfield’s absurdly pointy breasts. They don’t — maybe they simply can’t — make movies like this anymore.
by Leo Goldsmith | Source: 20th Century Fox 35mm print
13 Sep 2006 12:53 PM | Comments (2)
OK, so Will Smith is not that bad as Ali — though he is bad and is far too pencil-necked for the role — but Michael Mann’s biopic of the G.O.A.T. is extremely disappointing. The biopic genre usually yields meager specimens, confined to mimicry, fetishism, and gossip, and Mann’s film is no exception, allowing Smith to karaoke Cassius Clay and paving the way for the truly awful Ray. The worst of this film is that the only really interesting parts — the fights, the TV ops — are far better watched in their original form. Mann infuses them with his own style, which is no doubt interesting, but he adds little else to material that can be viewed on ESPN2 nearly every night of the week. A totally perfunctory pantomime of When We Were Kings and the dressing-up of Jon Voight in a Howard Cosell outfit are only the silliest ideas this movie executes, but there are many more. And what you won’t find in rerun boxing matches on late-night cable isn’t especially notable, comprising mostly warmed over dramatic set-pieces in which Ali argues with one of his many wives or puts his foot down about something.
Personally, I’d rather watch the Diff’rent Strokes docudrama again.
by Leo Goldsmith | Source: Columbia TriStar DVD
13 Sep 2006 12:13 PM | Submit Comment
FLOYD GONDOLLI: I like simple pleasures, like butter in my ass, lollipops in my mouth. That’s just me. That’s just something that I enjoy.
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: New Line DVD
11 Sep 2006 11:48 AM | Submit Comment
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: The Criterion Collection DVD (reissue)
11 Sep 2006 11:37 AM | Comments (1)
I’m a huge admirer of Roeg’s earlier films (though I remain unsure about The Man Who Fell to Earth), so I have no good excuse for the fact that I only saw this yesterday. It’s — as everybody else probably knows — a brilliantly incisive (pun! Freud! Argh!) portrait of a relationship, among a handful of great films that skewer modern sexuality while managing to direct its barbs at each gender equitably. (Eyes Wide Shut is another of these, a film that seems to share a lot with Roeg’s film: playing doctor, necrophilia, and the Vienna of the mind.)
Actually, it’s a pity I didn’t see this sooner, as I probably would have been slightly more receptive to the extremity of the relationship, especially as regards Art Garfunkel’s Alex Linden. Roeg handles the battle of the sexes with admirable equanimity, managing to take the somewhat tired truism that women are mercurial and mysterious and make it not only tangible, but sympathetic. (This is also thanks to Theresa Russell, who, from this vantage point, seems to look and behave exactly like Lindsay Lohan.) On the other hand, Garfunkel — who is idiosyncratic and in every way perfect here — is quite a reprehensible little shit, and I’m pleased to say that I no longer try masochistically to identify with such characters (though Cruise’s Dr. Bill still holds a place in both my heart and my private vision of hell).
But these are minor (and wholly subjective) qualms with an otherwise thoroughly excellent film, the equal of his earlier masterworks, Don’t Look Now and Walkabout, and I daresay their superior in form.
Here’s Rumsey’s full review, and you can also check out this interview with Roeg from 1980.
by Leo Goldsmith | Source: Criterion Collection DVD
10 Sep 2006 3:53 PM | Submit Comment
“Disorderly” is putting it mildly. A pretty disappointing, late Jerry Lewis-Frank Tashlin match-up, with a few moments of antic wackiness sandwiched between a fairly predictable set of gags. (There’s snow in the television — get it???) But it’s more or less worth watching, even if only for the final ambulance chase-sequence.
It’s a toss-up which is the better film, but it might make a good double-feature if paired with the 1987 Fat Boys vehicle.
by Leo Goldsmith | Source: Paramount Pictures 35mm print
08 Sep 2006 6:48 PM | Submit Comment
From the perfect contrast of the title card to the streaks of rain that are now differentiated from the scratches on the source print, this reissue is one of the best looking Criterion discs I’ve seen.
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: The Criterion Collection DVD (reissue)
08 Sep 2006 4:31 PM | Submit Comment
One of the best rock documentaries, cramming more into it’s 53 minutes than most manage in twice that. Bowie is at his peak here, on the cusp between the technicolour rock excess of ‘Diamond Dogs’ and the snowblind, introspective soul of ‘Young Americans’. The live sequences are mindblowing, even more so for Bowie’s wise, witty discussion of the various meanings in his writing, costume and performance. His American fans seem endearingly hopeless, tarted up to the nines in a variety of queasy glitter togs, wandering aimlessly through the parking lot muttering about how ‘changed’ they are. It all feels like a different world.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: VHS
08 Sep 2006 5:54 AM | Submit Comment
A welcome reissue for Ophuls’ last two Hollywood films on DVD- Restless Moment is a slight but intriguing domestic thriller in the Mildred Pierce tradition, with Joan Bennett struggling to protect her innocent suburban family against the machinations of vulnerable Irish gangster James Mason.
Letter From An Unknown Woman is an altogether meatier prospect, perhaps the finest unrequited love story ever filmed, a genuine heartbreaker. Joan Fontaine dedicates her life to the silent pursuit of gadabout pianist Louis Jourdan, each of them locked in a netherworld of selfish obsession, unable to break free. Ophuls manipulates the emotions without ever straying into schmaltz, holding his characters at one remove even in the depths of their self- imposed emotional tragedy. And it’s visual stunning, the camera gliding and swooning through the streets and cafes of 19th century Vienna.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
08 Sep 2006 5:53 AM | Submit Comment
DTV and proud of it.
by Tom Huddleston | Source: DVD
08 Sep 2006 5:46 AM | Submit Comment
After a few minutes it’s pretty easy to see why some would consider Noah Baumbach’s debut film to represent the best qualities of 90s American Independent Movies, while others would consider it to be the perfect embodiment of everything that was offensive about the same period of American filmmaking. I’m decidedly part of the former as I found Kicking and Screaming to be simultaneously hilarious, terrifying (it often feels like a horror), and all too familiar.
Part of the appeal is that Baumbach maintains a decisively critical perspective of his characters (a trait that I felt was sometimes lacking in Whit Stillman’s Metropolitan) without being overly callous of their circumstances. In a Noah Baumbach film, it always feels as if Baumbach understands that his characters are behaving immaturely and making poor decisions, but he’s willing to sympathize with the situations in which they make such choices and he accommodates their conduct accordingly without excusing their actions. Thus, it’s not a real surprise that critics such as Jonathan Rosenbaum compare Baumbach’s debut to Jean Renoir’s work, even if the comparison initially sounds ridiculous and inappropriate. On a related note, from a purely technical standpoint, it is interesting to watch Baumbach emulate the long takes and fluid camerawork of Renoir, Lubitsch, and Sturges when capturing his characters rambling conversations.
What’s especially charming is that Baumbach allows his own experience to dissolve into his films. When Grover finally resolves to take a risk and relinquish his solipsistic existence he’s thwarted by the fact that the world grows impatient with young men delaying maturity for comfort and he must quickly realize that fate doesn’t always allow for spontaneous decisions and impulsive gestures as a method of apology. It’s this moment of defeat that feels genuinely infused with acumen and it certainly displays the fingerprints of experience. Credit should also be given for a young filmmaker confident enough in the performance of his actors to close on the awkward instant of potential rather than suddenly providing gratification.
Of course, that pop-culture game-show diversion that the characters frequently engage in is just painful to endure.
by Chiranjit Goswami | Source: Criterion Collection DVD
06 Sep 2006 5:24 PM | Submit Comment
An initial viewing of this film is ehanced by its revelation1, but The Rapture’s intelligence becomes more apparent in subsequent viewings. And to describe how it is at once childishly hopeful and contemptuously hopeless will require many more.
1Pun!
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: New Line DVD
05 Sep 2006 5:10 PM | Submit Comment
As engaging as it is to decipher the scheme of the band of thieves that rob an elite Manhattan bank before the final act will elucidate their motivations, it is more so to locate the sparing aspects of this film that are the product of Spike Lee’s direction , which is here unfettered by polemics. You’ll find Terence Blanchard’s forgivably intrusive score, Denzel Washington in a tracking shot lifted directly out of Malcolm X, and at least one discriminating cop (“I’d rather be an old bigot than a handsome young corpse,” he remits.) In all, it’s solid escapist entertainment, and an uncharacteristically conservative (if not outright capitalist) effort for Lee.
by Rumsey Taylor | Source: Universal DVD
05 Sep 2006 4:59 PM | Submit Comment
After finding this staple of my teen years on a dusty shelf—recorded from somewhere onto a very poor-quality VHS—I was dismayed by the sparseness of humor. Compared to Brooks’ earlier work, this film lacks the rapid wit and sly social, cinematic commentary he came to be known for (though the film is pervaded by the usual horde of big-busted women, idiotic men, and crude body humor). There are rare moments of perceptive brilliance—the staking of Lucy, for one—as well as sharp drama that doesn’t fit Brooks’ forte—the Hungarian Dance sequence, one of the best scenes of any vampire film, doesn’t belong.
The union of Brooks and Leslie Nielsen, as well as the world’s most famous horror story, ripe for parody, should have resulted in one of the director’s best, ranked alongside Young Frankenstein; instead, it’s considered his greatest failure, and Mel Brooks, now 80, hasn’t directed a film since. Not that Brooks’ career has suffered—he’s won three Tony Awards, three Grammy Awards, and three Emmy Awards since—or that my love of this film will ever subside. Despite its many flaws, Dracula: Dead and Loving It still remains one of my go-to films on a rainy day.
by Adam Balz | Source:
04 Sep 2006 8:44 PM | Submit Comment
Even after Fort Apache – let alone Little Big Man – it’s hard to take seriously the stentorian paean to Custer and the U.S. Cavalry that opens She Wore A Yellow Ribbon. A pity, as the now-colour view of Monument Valley is stunning, and Wayne’s performance as the aging, soon-to-retire Brittles is very fine. But the film suddenly dies three-quarters of the way through as we’re treated to yet another of Ford’s “comic” barfights, and a potentially moving finale, with Wayne retired and riding off alone out of the story, is sadly and disappointingly abandoned.
by Ian Johnston | Source: Warner Bros
03 Sep 2006 1:00 PM | Submit Comment
OK, in spite of pretty unqualified admiration for both Stagecoach and My Darling Clementine I do have problems with a lot of John Ford films, including this one. On the plus side: a critical perspective on American history that essentially covers all the points that will be drawn out rather tediously in the official mea culpa almost 20 years later, Cheyenne Autumn; a stunning look to the b&w cinematographer; a fine performance by Wayne as the sympathetic audience surrogate. But in the end the negatives outweigh the positives, principally: the nauseating juvenile romantic leads; the usual tiresome Irish roustabout hijinks (no, I’ll never watch The Quiet Man again); and, at the end, a sudden conservative retreat before the implications of the film’s theme.
by Ian Johnston | Source: Warner Bros DVD
03 Sep 2006 12:51 PM | Submit Comment
Certainly amusing and sporadically charming, but I can’t shake the feeling that Faris and Dayton’s project is a carefully calculated construction designed to whet the appetite of the Sundance crowd, or at least the typical American Indy audience. It’s especially difficult to ignore this suspicion considering how each character seems composed to appeal to certain demographics within the characteristic indy audience and the antagonists of the film are such easy targets (Whoa, whoa, whoa! You mean beauty pageants for children are a harmful, perverse, and twisted aspect of American society? Stop the presses! Do the Ramseys know about this? While we’re at it, make sure someone also tells Willy Loman he’s not actually a winner). I left the theatre feeling the film might actually be just as processed and artificial as your standard summer blockbuster, only marketed to a different target consumer (actually, this could really be said for most Sundance stuff).
by Chiranjit Goswami | Source: Fox Searchlight Pictures 35mm Print
01 Sep 2006 5:11 PM | Submit Comment
It’s mildly frustrating to witness a film dedicated to deception using such a tired trick. In this case, Neil Burger’s film is basically a retread of Bryan Singer’s The Usual Suspects during its finale, so its reveal is much less satisfying. However, while Singer and McQuarrie’s effort deliberated on the nature of narration, Burger’s film admits its trickery almost immediately simply due to its subject matter.
Similar to Singer’s film, one’s appreciation of The Illusionist may rely heavily on our acceptance that our protagonist isn’t really as noble or virtuous as he appears. In fact he might actually hinder the progress of the society he claims to protect. However, while The Usual Suspects expressed how the ruthless individual could conquer the committed collective – perhaps a modest illustration of how corporate capitalist interests can discard its low-level laborers (and maybe socialism altogether) – The Illusionist features an explicitly personal conflict between opposing authoritative egos, both insincerely claiming to serve in the interest and welfare of their supporters, but in actuality acting for entirely selfish purposes. Oddly, while it initially appears as though Burger has constructed his central struggle between monarchy and democracy, or perhaps politics versus faith, or just the modern versus the archaic, it turns out to be more akin to tyranny versus celebrity. What remains is more of a cautionary tale against valuing devotion over reason and clinging to the metaphysical instead of embracing tangible progress, or at least mistaking advancement for miracles. Interestingly, the film also makes an argument for ignoring the personal flaws of political leaders when their policies may result in advancement for society, though this probably only becomes noticeable upon reflection of the entire narrative.
Burger’s reach and grasp may not be uniform, but his ambition is dignified, especially considering his setting in an unstable turn-of-the-century Vienna, struggling with a variety of opposing movements, and is probably ideal for an exploration of such themes. Burger is aided considerably by a fine cast, including Paul Giamatti as a skeptical but captivated police inspector, who acts as the viewer’s witness and narrator to the unfolding events and probably represents the prevailing perspective of apprehension during the period. Equally accomplished is the cinematography of Dick Pope, who casts his murky images in obscuring mists and muted colors, elevating the sense of unease that Burger attempts to create while constructing his frame into a stage in order to convey the theatricality of his illusions.
The real trickster may actually be Burger’s lead actor. Though the always reliable Ed Norton delivers yet another satisfying performance, one wonders if he just chooses his parts based on whether or not the script has a shocking third-act bombshell that causes the viewer to appreciate his casual interpretations of remarkable men disguised as ordinary guys. It’s a cunning little career move in that the majority of his roles are based on being believable as a typical anybody, while a twist in the narrative adds layers to a seemingly standard performance.
by Chiranjit Goswami | Source: Yari Film Group Releasing 35mm Print
01 Sep 2006 4:49 PM | Submit Comment
