Author: Dennis Hartley

“Without TCM, classic movies will die and with them, part of our culture.”

-from the “TCM Mantra”

In 1994, media mogul Ted Turner launched Turner Classic Movies, a commercial-free subscription channel dedicated to airing uncut classic and deep-catalog films ranging from the silent era to the early 80s. At the time of its inception, TCM’s only real “competitor” in the cable market was American Movie Classics, which operated under a very similar programming philosophy.

However, by the early 2000s, AMC (for assorted business reasons) was interrupting film presentations with commercial breaks; and once the channel went down that road, they were soon kowtowing to ad agency and sponsor demands – e.g., being pressed to incorporate more contemporary films into their programming. By default TCM was now the sole haven for classic film buffs on cable TV.

Consequently, over the ensuing years TCM has built a sizeable, passionate, and fiercely loyal coterie of fans (myself among them), as well as a (mostly) genial social media community (we’re not unlike the Deadheads; albeit more Ty Power than tie-dyed).

I say “mostly” genial, because once the news broke of some developments at TCM HQ earlier this week, those friendly villagers put torches and pitchforks on standby:

It’s not every day that Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, and Paul Thomas Anderson team up. But IndieWire has learned they will today: The three directors have scheduled an emergency call with Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav about the layoffs of Turner Classic Movies’ top brass. […]

The network laid off much of its leadership [on June 20^th ], including executive VP and general manager Pola Changnon; senior VP of programming and content strategy, Charles Tabesh; VP of brand creative and marketing Dexter Fedor; VP of enterprises and strategic partnerships Genevieve McGillicuddy, who also served as the director of the annual TCM Film Festival; and VP of studio production Anne Wilson.

These people were responsible for everything from curating lineups, to shooting intros and outros, and for creating original shows, documentaries, and video essays that serve as major contributions to American cultural history.

Scorsese has often said he has Turner Classic Movies on all day in the background when editing his movies with Thelma Schoonmaker. “It gives me something to turn to, to bounce off of, to rest in, to reinvigorate my thinking — just glancing at some image or combination of images at a certain moment,” Scorsese told the Los Angeles Times of his favorite network. “It’s more like a presence in the room, a reminder of film history as a living, ongoing entity.

Spielberg appeared at the last two TCM Film Festivals and in multiple TCM documentaries. Paul Thomas Anderson also was at the festival this year; in that same LA Times article, he called the network “holy ground.” […]

These cuts come as WBD CEO David Zaslav recites what’s become his rosary: He wants Warner Bros. to be a studio for filmmakers. He wants to build bridges with directors who were burned by the previous regime under Jason Kilar, who responded to the pandemic with a unilateral move for day-and-date releases on HBO Max.

If you’re like me, you’re thinking, “I just wanna be left alone to watch The Third Man on my couch in peace while I enjoy a pizza. What’s with all these corporate shenanigans?”

In brief: TCM’s tie-in with Warner dates from 1996, when Turner Broadcasting System merged with Time-Warner. That put TCM and Warner Brothers Entertainment under the same corporate overseers. Then in 2019, Time-Warner was acquired by AT&T, which renamed the company “WarnerMedia”. In 2022 (almost done) following its spin-off by AT&T, WarnerMedia merged with Discovery, Inc. Hence: TCM currently serves at the pleasure of the CEO of Warner Brothers Discovery; that position is currently held by Mr. David Zaslav.

Am I getting through to you, Mr. Beale?

You get up on your little twenty-one-inch screen and howl about America and democracy. There is no America. There is no democracy. There is only IBM, ITT, and AT&T, and DuPont, Dow, Union Carbide, and Exxon. Those are the nations of the world today.

– from Network (1976), screenplay by Paddy Chayefsky

Anyway, the reaction to this news on Film Twitter was swift and heartfelt:

Along with the established classics that continue to inspire actors, filmmakers, and historians, #TCM shows pre-codes, B-level noir, short subjects from comedy to travelogue, cartoons, B-westerns, silents, etc. We can't lose access to all of that important film history. #SaveTCM pic.twitter.com/4kPtlSyxjb

— James L. Neibaur (@JimLNeibaur) June 22, 2023

I just ran into a checker at the grocery store who loves @tcm. I gave her a box set of THIN MAN movies, and since then, we always talk abt what’s been on TCM.

She hadn’t heard about the layoffs—when I told her just now, she said "….I don’t know what I’m going to do." #SaveTCM pic.twitter.com/zna1ukdKlI

— Lara Gabrielle (@backlotsfilm) June 23, 2023

And while I would certain subscribe to a streaming service, streaming means we lose that thing where you didn't know you needed or wanted to see the film until it was on TCM. Scrolling through menus is great, like shopping, but different. https://t.co/xlMAxb21Lk

— Farran Nehme (@selfstyledsiren) June 21, 2023

Chris Licht was bad enough. But if Zaslav kills TCM, I'm raising an army. #SaveTCM

— Charles P. Pierce (@CharlesPPierce) June 22, 2023

Out of my nearly 4,000 DVD/Blu-ray collection, over half are DVD-R copies sourced from TCM broadcasts (for private use only…and yes, I've been a legit, paying cable customer since the mid-1980s). In light of what's going on at TCM, I suddenly feel like a film preservationist.

— Dennis Hartley (@denofcinema5) June 21, 2023

Speculation continues to rage regarding what the management shakeup portends for TCM; but this breaking news from across the pond did little to allay “worst case scenario” fears:

It’s the end of an era for the British television landscape: Turner Classic Movies (TCM) UK, widely known as TCM Movies and a cornerstone for film enthusiasts, is preparing for its final act.

This dedicated channel, which has showcased the rich filmographies of Turner Entertainment and Warner Bros., is set to close its curtains on July 6, 2023, marking a poignant farewell for UK’s classic movie lovers.

This sombre news comes amidst a backdrop of global uncertainty for TCM. Across the Atlantic, the future of the American TCM channel hangs in the balance following recent layoffs announced by Warner Bros. Discovery.

As the UK prepares to say goodbye to its beloved classic film channel, the struggle to preserve its American counterpart underscores the ongoing challenges and importance of maintaining the legacy of classic cinema worldwide.

Forgive me, I’m going to curse in “UK” now. Bugger bollocks bloody hell (I feel better).

Still, the news wasn’t all gloom and doom. This glimmer of hope broke on Friday:

Warner Bros. Discovery CEO David Zaslav is attempting to calm the waters after stirring up a storm over Turner Classic Movies earlier this week. Zaslav is moving oversight of the channel to Warner Bros. Pictures bosses Michael De Luca and Pamela Abdy, sources with knowledge of the situation tell The Hollywood Reporter.

The move is meant to reassure the film community after WBD announced a restructuring this week that saw TCM chief Pola Changnon exit after 25 years, along with key team members. […]

According to sources, putting TCM under the auspices of De Luca and Abdy — executives who are well regarded in the film community — will satisfy Spielberg, Scorsese and Anderson. The hope is the trio will be involved in curating for the channel. It’s unclear at this stage if any of the TCM staff who departed earlier this week could return, but sources say WBD is prepared to spend more money on the channel and will not consider selling it.

The key word is “curating”. Because I think the programming philosophy that informs an enterprise like Turner Classic Movies has deep roots in the repertory houses that have all but disappeared. In a 2017 piece about the death of the “neighborhood” theater, I wrote:

Some of my fondest memories of the movie-going experience involve neighborhood theaters; particularly during a 3-year period of my life (1979-1982) when I was living in San Francisco. But I need to back up for a moment. I had moved to the Bay Area from Fairbanks, Alaska, which was not the ideal environment for a movie buff. At the time I moved from Fairbanks, there were only two single-screen movie theaters in town. To add insult to injury, we were usually several months behind the Lower 48 on first-run features (it took us nearly a year to even get Star Wars).

Keep in mind, there was no cable service in the market, and VCRs were a still a few years down the road. There were occasional midnight movie screenings at the University of Alaska, and the odd B-movie gem on late night TV (which we had to watch in real time, with 500 commercials to suffer through)…but that was it. Sometimes, I’d gather up a coterie of my culture vulture pals for the 260-mile drive to Anchorage, where there were more theaters for us to dip our beaks into.

Consequently, due to the lack of venues, I was reading more about movies, than watching them. I remember poring over back issues of The New Yorker at the public library, soaking up Penelope Gilliat and Pauline Kael; but it seemed requisite to  live in NYC (or L.A.) to catch all these cool art-house and foreign movies they were raving about  (most of those films just didn’t make it out up to the frozen tundra). And so it was that I “missed” a lot of 60s and 70s cinema.

Needless to say, when I moved to San Francisco, which had a plethora of fabulous neighborhood theaters in 1979, I quickly set about making up the deficit. While I had a lot of favorite haunts (The Surf, The Balboa, The Castro, and the Red Victorian loom large in my memory), there were two venerable (if a tad dodgy) downtown venues in particular where I spent an unhealthy amount of time in the dank and the dark with snoring bums who used the auditoriums as a $2 flop: The Roxie and The Strand.

That’s because they were “repertory” houses; meaning they played older films (frequently double and triple bills, usually curated by some kind of theme). That 3 years I spent in the dark was my film school; that’s how I got caught up with Francis Ford Coppola, Stanley Kubrick, Martin Scorsese, Robert Altman, Hal Ashby, Terrence Malick, Woody Allen, Sidney Lumet, Peter Bogdanovich, Werner Herzog, Ken Russell, Lindsay Anderson, Wim Wenders, Michael Ritchie, Brian De Palma, etc.

[*sigh*] Those halcyon days of  power-grazing on repertory theater triple-bills are gone, but for me, TCM is the next-best thing extant. And it would be a damn shame to lose that too. In the meantime, keep fingers crossed-and as TCM presenter /”Czar of Noir” Eddie Muller advised, keep those cards and letters coming, folks.

WHAT CAN WE DO? I have been asked repeatedly this week. If you write to WBD (I'm sure someone will put the emails in the comments) PLEASE express your love for and devotion to TCM. Do NOT succumb to rage or engage in name-calling. That is NO HELP. @tcm @NoirAlley @noirfoundation

— Eddie Muller (@EddieMuller) June 23, 2023

More reviews at Den of Cinema

—Dennis Hartley

New York’sTribeca Film Festival wraps up this weekend. However, you can catch up- the festival is offering select titles via the “Tribeca at Home” online portal from June 19^th through July 2^nd . I have a few more reviews to share with you, so let’s dive in…

Cinnamon ** (USA) – Coffy? Meet Cinnamon. Written, directed and executive produced by Bryian Keith Montgomery Jr., this crime thriller marks the first offering under the banner of Village Roadshow Pictures’ Black Noir Cinema, which according to Variety, “…aims to adapt and redefine the Blaxploitation genre and translate its spirit of empowerment to a new generation of Black audiences.” With all due respect, isn’t that an avenue that filmmakers like Quentin Tarantino (e.g. Jackie Brown, Django Unchained) and the Hughes Brothers (e.g. Dead Presidents) have already been traversing for a couple of decades? I’m just asking questions.

Hailey Kilgore plays a young woman who works at a gas station and aspires to make it big in the music biz. David Iacono plays the petty thief who sweeps her off her feet and vows to make her a star by any means necessary (he’s handsome, but roguish). The pair brainstorm a scheme to score some cash. Complications ensue. Kilgore and Iancono are appealing, and having players like Damon Wayans and genre stalwart Pam Grier (still a formidable presence) on board lends cachet, but the film falls curiously flat.

Deep Sea *** (China) –  Xiaopeng Tian’s colorful 3-D animation fantasy follows the dreamlike journey of a melancholy little girl named Shenxiu (voiced by Wang Ting Wen) after she falls overboard during a storm while on an ocean cruise with her father, stepmother, and baby brother. Shenxiu longs to reconnect with her biological mother, who she hasn’t seen or heard from since her parents’ divorce. Akin to the little boy in Where the Wild Things Are, Shenxiu encounters strange and wondrous characters that embody her troubled emotional state; anthropomorphic creatures that also serve as avatars for the people who are closest to her. An imaginative and family-friendly adventure in the vein of Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away

He Went That Way ** (USA) – Or, as I have dubbed it, He Went Every Which Way but Loose. Jeffrey Darling’s heartland noir (set in 1964) gets its kicks on Route 66. An animal handler (Zachary Quinto) is on the road to Chicago with his BFF…a celebrity chimpanzee named “Spanky”. At a truck stop café, he offers a ride to a wary hitchhiker (Jacob Eldori), little suspecting that he’s picked up a vicious serial killer. While all the elements are in place for a tension-filled “killer on the road” thriller, the film never quite gels as such. The two leads are game (like Michael Madsen before him, Eldori takes full advantage of his angular James Dean countenance with a suitably twitchy and squint-eyed performance) and the scenic vistas are well-photographed but vacillating tonal shifts in the narrative ultimately drag the film down.

Hey, Viktor! **** (Canada) – In 1998, a low-budget indie dramedy called Smoke Signals became a hit with critics and festival audiences. It was also groundbreaking, in the sense of being the first film to be written (Sherman Alexie), directed (Chris Eyre) and co-produced by Native Americans. The film was a career booster for several Native-American actors like Gary Farmer, Tantoo Cardinal and Adam Beach. For other cast members, not so much …like 11-year-old Cody Lightning, who played Adam Beach’s character “Victor” as a youngster.

Fast-forward 25 years. Cody Lightning plays (wait for it) Cody Lightning in his heightened reality dramedy (co-written with Samuel Miller), which reveals Cody has hit the bottom (and the bottle). Divorced and chronically depressed, his portfolio has dwindled to adult film gigs and half-finished screenplays about zombie priests. When his best friend and creative partner Kate (Hannah Cheesman) organizes an intervention, Cody has an epiphany…not to stop drinking, but to make a Smoke Signals sequel. All he needs now is a script, some of the original cast, and (most importantly) financial backing.

Reminiscent of Alexandre Rockwell’s In the Soup, Hey, Viktor! is an alternately hilarious and brutally honest dive into the trenches of D.I.Y. film-making (I was also reminded of Robert Townshend’s Hollywood Shuffle, in the way Lightning weaves issues like ethnic stereotyping and reclamation of cultural identity into the narrative). The cast includes Smoke Signals alums Simon Baker, Adam Beach, Gary Farmer, and Irene Bedard.

Let the Canary Sing *** (USA) – The biggest surprise in Alison Elwood’s engaging portrait of Cyndi Lauper is the thoughtful, articulate, and soft-spoken woman who reflects on her life and career; a far cry from the goofball New Wave Judy Holliday shtick that defined her public persona. By the time her slyly feminist anthem “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” put her on the map in 1983, she’d already been toiling in the music biz for over a decade (mostly fronting cover bands; it was interesting to learn that she was once a backup singer for Patti LaBelle). She freely admits that the graph of her career is a classic roller coaster, but it turns out she’s more of a polymath than one might suspect and has never compromised her vision. I confess losing track of her post-80s output, but I came away with newfound respect for her ongoing dedication as an artist and an activist.

One Night with Adela *** (Spain) – Volatile, coked to the gills and seething with resentment, Adela (Laura Galán) is wrapping up another dreary late-night shift tooling around Madrid in her street sweeper. However, the young woman’s after-work plans for this evening are anything but typical. She has decided that it’s time to get even…for every wrong (real or perceived) that she’s suffered in her entire life. Galán delivers a fearless and mesmerizing performance. Shot in one take (no editor is credited), writer-director Hugo Ruiz’s debut is the most unsettling portrayal of alienation, rage, and madness I have seen since Gaspar Noe’s I Stand Alone. Definitely not for the squeamish.

Rather ***½ (USA) –  Few journalists have had such a long and storied career as Dan Rather; long enough for several generations to claim their own reference point. At the risk of eliciting an eye-rolling “OK Boomer” from some quarters, mine is “I think we’re dealing with a bunch of thugs here, Dan!” (others of “a certain age” will recall that as Walter Cronkite’s reaction to watching his colleague getting roughed up by security on live TV while reporting from the floor of the 1968 Democratic National Convention). For Gen Xers, he’s the inspiration for R.E.M.’s “What’s the Frequency Kenneth?”, which is what a pair of assailants repeatedly asked Rather during a 1986 attack in New York. To Millennials, he’s a wry and wise nonagenarian with over 2 million Twitter followers.

As evidenced in Frank Marshall’s documentary, the secret to Rather’s longevity may be his ability to take a punch (literally or figuratively) and get right up with integrity intact. All the career highlights are checked, from Rather’s early days as a reporter in Dallas (where he came to national prominence covering the JFK assassination) to overseas reporting for CBS from the mid-to-late 60s (most notably in Vietnam), to taking over the coveted CBS Evening News anchor chair vacated by Cronkite in 1981, and onward. An inspiring warts-and-all portrait of a dogged truth-teller who is truly a national treasure.

More Tribeca 2023 reviews:

Richland

The Future

Downtown Owl

Against All Enemies

More reviews at Den of Cinema

— Dennis Hartley

The 2023 Seattle International Film Festival is wrapping up this weekend (my eyes hurt-oy) and I have a few more reviews to share. Hopefully, some of these films will be coming soon to a theater (or a streaming service) near you!

Adolfo (Mexico) ***½ – Strangers in the night, exchanging…cactus? Long story. Short story, actually, as writer-director Sofia Auza’s dramedy breezes by at 70 minutes. It’s a “night in the life of” tale concerning two twenty-somethings who meet at a bus stop. He: reserved and dressed for a funeral. She: effervescent and dressed for a party (the Something Wild scenario). With its tight screenplay, snappy repartee, and marvelous performances, it’s hard not to fall in love with this film.

Being Mary Tyler Moore (USA) ***½ – Robert Redford recalls in this film, “I had a place in Malibu. I was sitting there, looking out at the ocean, and this woman walks by. What it looked like to me was that she was sad. I said ‘Oh…that’s Mary Tyler Moore.’ And we’d always seen Mary Tyler Moore as this happy, upbeat, wonderful, wonderful character who was full of joy and innocence.”

Famously, what Redford saw in Moore the day of that chance encounter led to him offering her the part of the insular mother in his critically acclaimed 1980 film Ordinary People (a very un-“Mary Richards” character). This dichotomy forms the nucleus of James Adolphus’ documentary, offering an intimate glimpse at a complex woman who, while undeniably  groundbreaking and influential, had her share of tragedies, personal demons, and insecurities.

(Set for release April 26^th on HBO and HBO Max)

Desperate Souls, Dark City, and the Legend of Midnight Cowboy (USA) ***½ – Aside from its distinction as being the only X-rated film to earn Oscars, John Schlesinger’s groundbreaking, idiosyncratic character study Midnight Cowboy (1969) also ushered in an era of mature, gritty realism in American film that flourished from the early to mid-1970s. The film was Schlesinger’s first U.S.-based project; he had already made a name for himself in his native England with films like A Kind of Loving, Billy Liar, Darling, and Far From the Madding Crowd.

As pointed out in Nancy Buirski’s absorbing documentary, what came to be called the “New Hollywood” movement was fueled in part by ex-pat European filmmakers (like Schlesinger) bringing their unique “outsider” perspective on American politics, social mores, and popular culture to the table. Buirski not only offers  fresh insights on how Midnight Cowboy came together, but perfectly recreates the zeitgeist of 1969.

Douglas Sirk-Hope as in Despair (Switzerland) *** – I’ve never thought of director Douglas Sirk (best-known for vivid technicolor 50s melodramas like Written on the Wind and Imitation of Life) as a personal filmmaker, but Roman Hüben makes a convincing argument in his fascinating portrait (it turns out that elements of Sirk’s personal life were quite…Sirkian, and formative to his work). Pigeonholed during his heyday as a purveyor of “women’s weepies”, Sirk has gained critical appreciation and influenced filmmakers like Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Gloriavale (Australia) **½ – Just when you thought you’d heard about every faith-based commune led by a charismatic figure who preaches altruism but ultimately turns out to be an autocratic sexual deviant, another one pops out of the woodwork. Directors Noel Smyth and Fergus Grady’s expose of New Zealand’s Gloriavale Christian Community follows the story of several courageous whistleblowers (former and current members). The film is a tad dry in presentation, but the survivors’ tales are harrowing and eye-opening.

Irati (Spain) ** – Writer-director Paul Urkijo Alijo’s fantasy is set in Moorish Spain, with pagans, Christians, and the odd mythical creature engaging in various set-tos in the time of Charlemagne’s domination of Europe. On the plus side: impressive sets and lush photography; but the uneven blend of historical fiction with sword and sorcery never quite gels. The film strives to be an adult fairy tale like John Boorman’s Excalibur but falls about one grail short of its quest.

Mother Superior (Austria) **½ – Submitted for your approval: A young woman in 1970s Austria hired as a live-in elder care nurse for a demanding Baroness is about to embark on a strange psychic journey, making an unscheduled stop at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Hotel Terminus.  Writer-director Marie Alice Wolfszahn’s gothic chiller/Wagnerian nightmare is economically paced, well-acted and stylishly photographed, marred slightly by a “gotcha” dénouement that makes what proceeded it play like an extended Twilight Zone episode.

Retreat (Switzerland) *** – Movie rule: If a father picks up his young son, whisks him to an isolated location (in this case, a family cabin in the mountains) and casually asks something to the effect of “So-what’s Mommy’s new boyfriend like?”- you know there is going to be a lot of brooding. And unease. Swiss writer-director Leon Schwitter’s impressive feature debut contains a lot of brooding and unease (I was reminded of Roger Donaldson’s Smash Palace). The lovely Alpine setting belies a creeping dread. With two actors carrying the film, the story simmers on a slow boil, but nonetheless keeps you glued to the screen.

Satan Wants You (Canada) *** – Raise your hand if you remember Dana Carvey’s recurring SNL sketch character “The Church Lady” and her catchphrase: “Could it be…SAY-tan?!” Yes, me too-I always fell about the place when she would say that. But do you remember what precipitated the creation of that character? Ol’ Scratch enjoyed a major comeback for a spell (sorry) back in the 1980s; I can recall the daytime talk shows being agog with people who told bone-chilling tales of being swept up in blood-drinking satanic cults and barely escaping with their souls intact. But was there a possibility that these were just “tales”? Why so many, and so suddenly?

According to Sean Horlor and Steve J. Adams documentary, the genesis of this “satanic panic” can be traced to the 1980 book “Michelle Remembers”. Co-written by Catholic psychiatrist Lawrence Pazder and his patient, it was based on deep hypnosis sessions he conducted with Michelle Smith, in the course of which she allegedly “remembered” being abducted and abused by a satanic cult when she was a child (the book was a bestseller). A fascinating study of mass hysteria, and a cautionary tale (not lost on the filmmakers) that points to contemporary phenomenon like Q-anon. I won’t sink to quoting P.T. Barnum, but (sadly) there will always be “someone” out there poised and ready to cash in on ignorance and fear.

Table for Six (Hong Kong) *** – Hong Kong director Sunny Chan’s colorful, sometimes raucous mashup of dysfunctional family melodrama with door-slamming bedroom farce is uneven in tone, but good-natured enough to be forgiven (if quickly forgotten). Three adult brothers live together in an inherited restaurant-turned apartment. The eldest is nurturing a broken heart, the middle is excited about a new girlfriend, and the youngest is set to get married. Complications and hilarity ensue. Not a masterpiece, but fun while it lasts.

Previous posts with related themes:

2023 SIFF Preview

SIFF 2023: Week 1

More reviews at Den of Cinema

The 2023 Seattle International Film Festival is running now through May 21^st, featuring 264 shorts, docs, and narrative films from 74 countries. I’ve been bingeing all week, and thought I’d  take a breather and share a few reviews. Hopefully, some will be coming soon to a theater (or a streaming service) near you!

A Disturbance in the Force (USA) *** – I missed “The Star Wars Christmas Special” in 1978…but after seeing Jeremy Coon and Steve Kozak’s documentary, perhaps that’s for the best. Leaving viewers and TV critics aghast, the unintentionally kitschy one-off has since garnered cult status (George Lucas initially OK’d the project but disowned it following the broadcast). The backstory is recounted in a cheeky and entertaining fashion. Warning: this film may trigger nightmares about Bea Arthur tending bar at the Mos Eisley Cantina.

Chile ’76 (Chile/Argentine/Qatar) *** – Echoes of Graham Greene’s The Honorary Consul permeate this examination of the moral, ethical, and political dilemmas presented by life in a totalitarian society. Set in 1976 during the dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet, actress Manuela Martelli’s debut feature (co-written with Alejandra Garcia) centers on a bourgeois Chilean woman (Aline Küppenheim).

Although she trained as a nurse at med school, she has opted to let her physician husband bring home the bacon. Busying herself by taking care of their luxurious beachfront home and doing volunteer work for her church, she is largely sheltered from the harsh realities of the regime. However, when her priest talks her into helping a wounded rebel, she gets a crash-course in what life is really like for the less fortunate and begins to question her personal priorities. Deliberate pacing and an abrupt, ambiguous dénouement may be trying for some, but the film is well-directed and acted.

Even Hell Has its Heroes (USA) *** – (Engaging sheepish mode). I’ve lived in Seattle 30 years…yet the “ambient metal” band Earth (led in numerous iterations by guitarist Dylan Carlson) somehow slipped under my radar. I felt a bit redeemed when I learned in Clyde Petersen’s documentary that they’re more well-known outside of the Northwest. Moody, experimental, and hypnotic (not unlike Earth’s epic drone pieces), Petersen’s film is, at its heart, an elegiac paean to that ephemeral moment Seattle ruled the music world.

I Like Movies (Canada) **** – To call Lawrence (Isaiah Lehtinen), the 17-year-old hero of writer-director Chandler Levack’s coming of age dramedy a “film freak” is an understatement. When his best bud ribs him by exclaiming in mock horror, “I can’t believe you never masturbate!” Lawrence’s responds with a shrug, “I’ve tried to, but…I’d rather watch Goodfellas or something.” Levack’s film (set in the early aughts) abounds with such cringe-inducing honesty; eliciting the kind of nervous chuckles you get from watching, say, Todd Solondz’s Happiness (a film that Lawrence enthusiastically champions to a hapless couple in a video store who can’t decide on what they want to see).

Lawrence, who dresses (and pontificates) like a Canadian version of Ignatius J. Reilly, is obsessed with two things: Paul Thomas Anderson’s oeuvre, and the goal of getting into NYU film school in the fall (despite not even having been accepted yet, and that he’s not likely to save up the $90,000 tuition working as a minimum wage video store clerk over the summer). Wry, observant, and emotionally resonant, with wonderful performances by the entire cast, SIFF’s closing night selection is a real winner.

Lonely Castle in the Mirror (Japan) *** – The Breakfast Club meets Alice in Wonderland in Keiichi Hara’s anime, adapted from Mizuki Tsujimura’s novel. Seven middle-school students (all misfits) are given access to a magic castle via their mirrors. Once there, a “wolf girl” informs them the first to find a hidden key will be granted one wish. As they become acquainted, they become less competitive and more empathetic toward each other. Overlong for a simple narrative, but a lovely message for kids.

L’immensità (Italy) ***½ – Emanuele Crialese’s semi-autobiographical drama about a dysfunctional family (set in 1970s Rome) combines the raw emotion of John Cassavetes’ A Woman Under the Influence with the sense memory of Fellini’s Amarcord. Penélope Cruz portrays a woman in a faltering marriage struggling to hold it together for the sake of her three children, to whom she is fiercely and unconditionally devoted. Her teenage daughter Edri identifies as a boy named “Andrea” (much to the chagrin of her abusive father). Buoyed by naturalistic performances, beautiful cinematography (by Gergely Pohárnok) and a unique 70s Italian pop soundtrack.

Next Sohee  (Korea) **** – Writer-director July Jung’s outstanding film is reminiscent of Kurosawa’s High and Low, not just in the sense that it is equal parts police procedural and social drama, but that it contains a meticulously layered narrative that has (to paraphrase something Stanley Kubrick once said of his own work) “…a slow start, the start that goes under the audience’s skin and involves them so that they can appreciate grace notes and soft tones and don’t have to be pounded over the head with plot points and suspense hooks.”

The first half of the film tells the story of a high school student who is placed into a mandatory “externship” at a call center by one of her teachers. Suffice it to say her workplace is a prime example as to why labor laws exist (they do have them in South Korea-but exploitative companies always find loopholes).

When the outgoing and headstrong young woman commits suicide, a female police detective is assigned to the case. The trajectory of her investigation takes up the second half of the film. The deeper she digs, the more insidious the implications…and this begins to step on lot of toes, including her superiors in the department. Jung draws parallels between the stories of the student and the detective investigating her death; both are assertive, principled women with the odds stacked against them. Ultimately, they’re  tilting at windmills in a society driven by systemic corruption, predatory capitalism, and a patriarchal hierarchy.

Punderneath it All  (USA) **½ – True story: I once got into such an intense pun battle with a co-worker that I literally chased him down the street shouting puns as he drove away. That said, I was today years old when I found out pun “slams” and tournaments are a thing. Abby Hagan’s documentary delves into pun culture. A fun watch (albeit for a niche audience) but may become redundant for some (I bet you’re glad I didn’t say “repundant”).

Midnight Cowboy (USA; Archival presentation on Monday, May 15th) **** – Aside from its distinction as being the only X-rated film to ever win Oscars, John Schlesinger’s groundbreaking 1969 character study also helped usher in a new era of mature, gritty realism in American film that flourished from the early to mid 1970s.

Dustin Hoffman has seldom matched his character work here as Ratso Rizzo, a homeless New York City con artist who adopts country bumpkin/aspiring male hustler Joe Buck (Jon Voight) as his “protégé”. The two leads are outstanding, as is the supporting cast, which includes John McGiver, Brenda Vaccaro, Barnard Hughes and a teenage Bob Balaban. Also look for cameos from several of Andy Warhol’s “Factory” regulars, who can be spotted milling about here and there in a memorable party scene.

In hindsight, the location filming provides a fascinating historical document of the seedy milieu that was “classic” Times Square (New York “plays itself” very well here). Schlesinger won an Oscar for Best Director, as did Waldo Salt for his screenplay.

Previous posts with related themes:

2023 SIFF Preview

More reviews at Den of Cinema

— Dennis Hartley

The 49^th Seattle International Film Festival (May 11-21)  opens next week, featuring 264 shorts, docs, and narrative films from 74 countries. As always, the looming question is – where to begin? I’ve found the trick to navigating festivals is developing a 6^th sense for films in your wheelhouse (so I embrace my OCD and channel it like a cinematic dowser).

(deep breath) Let’s dive in.

This year’s Opening Night Gala selection is Past Lives (USA/Korea), the latest offering from A24 (Ex Machina, Ladybird, Moonlight, Everything Everywhere All at Once, et.al.). Billed as “a heartrending modern romance”, the drama was written and directed by Celine Song, who will be attending and participating in a Q&A following the screening.

Always with the personal drama: Dean Kavanagh’s Hole in the Head (Ireland) is a character study about a mute projectionist who uses the tools of his trade as a conduit for coming to terms with long-repressed memories. Adolfo (Mexico, U.S. premiere) is first-time writer-director Sofia Auza’s tale of two twentysomething strangers who form a close bond over the course of one fateful evening (possible shades of Before Sunrise).

Utilizing the backdrop of late-80s Thatcherism, Georgia Oakley’s debut feature Blue Jean (U.K.) concerns a P.E. teacher entering her first queer relationship just as the British government passes The Local Government Act-which (among other things) prohibited local authorities from promoting homosexuality (timely, considering recent legislation here in the colonies).

Another period drama with political undercurrents is Chile ’76 (Chile/Argentine/Qatar). During Chile’s oppressive Pinochet era, an upper-class doctor’s wife is unexpectedly recruited by her local priest to nurse a wounded anti-government fugitive back to health. The film marks the directing debut for actress Manuella Martelli.

That’s showbiz: several backstage docs intrigue me, including Becoming Mary Tyler Moore (USA) James Adolphus’ portrait of the pioneering actress, producer, and activist. A Disturbance in the Force (USA) really sounds fun-it tells the origin story of the “unhinged” 1978 CBS TV special “The Star Wars Holiday Special”-which redefined the meaning of “WTF?!” for franchise fans (directed by Jeremy Coon and Steve Kozak).

Some wordy film titles double as a synopsis…e.g., Chicory Wees’ Circus of the Scars – The Insider Odyssey of the Jim Rose Circus Sideshow (USA), an overdue history of the unique Seattle-based troupe. It’s sure to be a piercing study (sorry). Speaking of bad puns (and as a shameless practitioner of same), I’m really looking forward to groaning through another Seattle-based doc, Punderneath it All (USA). Director Abby Hagan explores “…the wonderfully whimsical world of 15 regional pun competitions across the U.S.”.

Movie movie: Roman Hüben’s Douglas Sirk – Hope as in Despair (Switzerland) is a documentary portrait of the prolific German director known for technicolor 50s melodramas like Written on the Wind and Imitation of Life. Pigeonholed at the time as “women’s weepies”, Sirk’s oeuvre has since gained more critical appreciation, as well as influencing filmmakers like Pedro Almodóvar, John Waters, and Rainer Werner Fassbinder. And Nancy Buirski’s Desperate Souls, Dark City, and the Legend of Midnight Cowboy (USA) zeroes in on John Schlesinger’s groundbreaking 1968 drama.

Speaking of which, Midnight Cowboy (which I wrote about here) is one of several special archival presentations at this year’s SIFF. Also showing: Akira Kurosawa’s The Seven Samurai, and Jack Arnold’s 1957 cult favorite The Incredible Shrinking Man (which I wrote about here). This is a rare opportunity to see these gems on the big screen.

Behind the music: All hail the Queen of Disco! Love to Love You, Donna Summer (USA) promises to be an intimate portrait of the late pop diva, co-directed by Brooklyn Sudano and Roger Ross Williams. Sam Pollard and Ben Shapiro’s Max Roach: The Drum Also Waltzes (USA) examines the life of the great jazz player and cultural activist.

Pacific Northwest music connections are well-represented this year; I’m particularly intrigued by Even Hell Has its Heroes (USA), a documentary by Seattle multimedia transgender artist Clyde Petersen about Earth (“the slowest metal band on the planet”). And Casey Affleck stars as a washed-up folk singer looking for a comeback in Dreamin’ Wild (USA). The drama was shot in Spokane and is written and directed by Bill Pohlad.

Family friendly: I’m a big anime fan, so I’m looking forward to catching Keiichi Hara’s fantasy adventure Lonely Castle in the Mirror (Japan), described as “a magical realism story about struggling with mental health and how friendships can help you overcome your despair.” Another promising animated feature is Ernest & Célestine: A Trip to Gibberitia (France). Co-directed by Jean-Christophe Roger and Julien Chheng, it’s the belated sequel to the charming 2014 film Ernest & Célestine (my original  SIFF review).

Odds ‘n’ sods: Next Sohee (Korea) is a crime thriller with a compelling setup- “A vivacious high schooler is placed in a job training program at a call center and is slowly cut down to nothing until she commits suicide, galvanizing a police detective to peel back layer upon layer of exploitation to get to the bottom of her death.”

Directed by C.J. “Fiery” Obasi, Mami Wata- A West Afrikan Folklore (Nigeria) “follows the citizens of a fictional West African village as their faith in a water deity is challenged by forces from without and within.” And Marie Alice Wolfszahn’s Mother Superior (Austria) is “a gothic occult thriller set in 1970s Austria, in which a “woman born under sinister circumstances takes a job as an eccentric Baroness’ nurse to solve the mystery of her own parentage.”

Obviously, I’ve barely scratched the surface. I’ll be plowing through the catalog and sharing reviews with you beginning next Saturday. In the meantime, visit the SIFF site for full details on the films, event screenings, special guests, panel discussions and more.

Previous SIFF reviews (2006-2022)

More reviews at Den of Cinema

It should be obvious to anyone following my weekly scribbles at Hullabaloo (great googly moogly…have I been doing this for 17 years?!) that I primarily write about film. I love writing about film. But my first love (we never forget our first love) was music. My first published piece ever was a review of King Crimson’s A Lark’s Tongue in Aspic, in 1973. Granted, it was for my high school newspaper and upwards of dozens read it, but for that brief shining moment…I was Lester Bangs (in my mind). Now that I think about it…Digby was the editor of that paper (that’s how we originally became friends-Journalism class in our senior year).

That was 50 years ago. And Digby’s still my editor. I don’t understand what’s happening.

And you run, and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way but you’re older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Oh. Thanks for clearing that up.

Speaking of 50-year anniversaries-1973 was an outstanding year for music. Distilling a “top 10” was crazy making (if I hadn’t allowed myself the “next 10” at the bottom , my head would have exploded). If I have “overlooked” one of your favorites…it’s duly noted. In alphabetical order:

Alladin Sane-David Bowie

How does one follow a stone classic like Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars? Just a walk in the park for David Bowie…swinging an old bouquet. A very strong set, bolstered by Mick Ronson’s distinctive guitar pyrotechnics and some of pianist Mike Garson’s finest work (particularly on the more ethereal numbers like “Lady Grinning Soul” and the title cut). While Bowie’s so-called “Berlin period” was still several years down the road, there is a Weimar cabaret energy to the self-reflective “Time”, which is one of the album’s showstoppers.

Choice cuts: “The Jean Genie”, “Time”, “Panic in Detroit”, “Alladin Sane”, “Lady Grinning Soul”, “Cracked Actor”.

Catch a Fire-Bob Marley and the Wailers

While this was their fifth studio effort, Catch a Fire (their debut on Chris Blackwell’s Island Records) arguably marked the first awareness of Bob Marley and the Wailers for many music fans in the U.S. (they were already well-known in Jamaica and gaining popularity in the U.K.). The original sessions were recorded in Kingston in 1972; Blackwell remixed the 8-track masters and had session players add clavinet and additional guitar parts to several tracks. The songs are some of the best in their catalog. It’s a true group effort, with Peter Tosh taking lead vocals on the two songs he composed – “400 Years” and “Stop That Train”. If you haven’t heard them, I recommend seeking out the original mixes, which I think are more compelling.

Choice cuts: “Concrete Jungle”, “Kinky Reggae”, “Stop That Train”, “Slave Driver”, “400 Years”, “Stir it Up”.

Dark Side of the Moon – Pink Floyd

Talk about a shoo-in (I’d probably have to hire a 24-hour security detail if I failed to include this one). The now-iconic prism design that adorns the album’s cover is apt; there is something elemental about this set that (obviously) captured the imaginations of millions of listeners (to date, the album has sold over 45 million copies). Pink Floyd may not have invented prog-rock, but they unarguably raised the bar for the genre with this entry.

Choice cuts: All of them?

Montrose-Montrose

Clocking in at just over 30 minutes, this self-titled debut comes in like a lion and goes out like…a lion. Led by guitarist extraordinaire Ronnie Montrose (formerly of the Edgar Winter Group), the hard-rocking quartet was propelled by a tight rhythm section (Denny Carmassi on drums and Bill Church on bass) and a young up-and-coming lead vocalist named Sammy Hagar. The album benefits from dynamic production by Ted Templeman, who also worked with Van Halen, the Doobie Brothers, and Van Morrison (prior to forming Montrose, Ronnie Montrose played on Morrison’s Tupelo Honey album, and the songs “Listen to the Lion” and “St. Dominic’s Preview”).

I had the pleasure of seeing Ronnie Montrose perform twice; circa 1981 in San Francisco with Gamma, and 2011 in Seattle. Sadly, in 2012, he took his own life. He had beat prostate cancer but battled chronic depression. That last time I saw him perform, he was in an ebullient mood; graciously chatting with fans afterwards and clearly having a great time rocking some classics from the first album (with a young vocalist who sounded uncannily like Sammy Hagar). He was an astonishing player and an inspiration to me as a guitarist.

Choice cuts: “Rock the Nation”, “Bad Motor Scooter”, “Space Station #5”, “Good Rockin’ Tonight”, “Rock Candy”, “Make it Last”.

The New York Dolls– The New York Dolls

In a new Showtime documentary about former New York Dolls lead singer David Johansen by Martin Scorsese and David Tedeschi called Personality Crisis: One Night Only (recommended!), Dolls super-fan Morrissey observes, “They only made two studio albums; and for a group that did so little really, and existed for such a short amount of time, their impact has been extraordinary. And the music, because it was such fantastic pop music, it just seemed to me like the absolute answer to everything. Which of course…too dangerous.”

What did he mean by “too dangerous”? For one, the Dolls were a bit too much, too soon for many rock music fans, likely befuddled by the band’s Frankenstein construct of fey posturing, campy attire, New Yawk attitude, and garage band sound. To be sure, Bolan and Bowie had already injected androgyny into the zeitgeist, but the Dolls were still pretty over the top for 1973. In hindsight, their descendants are legion, ranging from The Ramones to Måneskin.

Musically, they were pop-punk before “punk” was a known quantity. Their eponymous debut album (produced by Todd Rundgren) has held up remarkably well; songs that, while rooted in R&B, 50s rock, and 60s pop, are most decidedly not your father’s R&B, 50s rock and 60s pop.

Choice cuts: “Personality Crisis”, “Looking for a Kiss”, “Lonely Planet Boy”, “Trash”, “Bad Girl”, “Private World”, “Jet Boy”.

Quadrophenia-The Who

Never content to rest on his laurels, Peter Townshend set out to compose yet another rock opera in 1973-and pulled it off with this epic double album, the Who’s follow-up to the excellent Who’s Next (which itself rose from the ashes of a fizzled Tommy-like project called Lifehouse). A musical love letter to the band’s first g-g-generation of rabid British fans (aka the “Mods”), Quadrophenia gets inside the head of Mod Jimmy (embodied by Roger Daltrey’s powerful and emotive vocals). Lavishly produced, with all band members in fine form. The album spawned a 1979 film version directed by Franc Roddam, with a Who soundtrack.

Choice cuts: “The Real Me”, “Cut My Hair”, “The Punk and the Godfather”, “I’m One”, “I’ve Had Enough”, “5:15”, “Bell-Boy”, “Dr. Jimmy”,  “Love, Reign o’er Me”.

Suzi Quatro-Suzi Quatro

Detroit native Suzi Quatro didn’t consciously set out to be the groundbreaking and influential artist that she turned out to be. She just wanted to rock…and “rock” she does on this high-energy debut album. Music was in her blood…her first gig was playing bongos in her dad’s jazz band at age 8. She formed her first band at 15, an all-female outfit (eventually called Cradle) that included her three sisters. British producer Mickie Most happened to catch a performance and instantly saw her star potential, helping Suzi sign with a UK label. Not unlike the New York Dolls, her influence was ultimately more impactful than her albums (she is most famously lauded by Joan Jett as her chief inspiration). This album still sounds fresh and fun, chockablock with straight-ahead rockers and catchy power-pop (many written by Nicky Chinn and Mike Chapman, who also composed a number of songs for The Sweet).

Choice cuts: “48 Crash”, “Glycerine Queen”, “Can the Can”, “Shine My Machine”, “Primitive Love”. “I Wanna Be Your Man”.

Solid Air-John Martyn

A near-masterpiece of (mostly) acoustic guitar-based jazz-folk by a gifted singer-songwriter. Martyn is accompanied by bassist Danny Thompson (formerly of Pentangle). I had a chance to see the late Scottish musician perform at a now-defunct club called The Backstage in Seattle back in the mid-90s. It was just Martyn and a stand-up bass player; Martyn primarily accompanied himself on acoustic, but played a Les Paul through a delay unit on several tunes. A minimal setup, but it was easily the best live performance I have ever seen by any solo artist or band. Not only was Martyn’s playing and singing superlative, but he was an absolute riot in between songs (he had a lot of Scottish jokes). Quite an experience-like this album.

Choice cuts: “Solid Air”, “Over the Hill”, “May You Never”, “Don’t Wanna Know”.

Spectrum-Billy Cobham

In the wake of Miles Davis’ groundbreaking 1970s album Bitches Brew, a new musical sub-genre emerged. “Fusion” (as it came to be labeled) had one foot in rock and the other in jazz. The Bitches Brew roster is legend: including future members of Weather Report (Wayne Shorter, Joe Zawinul), Return to Forever (Chick Corea, Lenny White) and The Mahavishnu Orchestra (John McLaughlin and Billy Cobham). Drummer Billy Cobham’s first solo project turned out to be influential in its own right (most famously cited by Jeff Beck as the chief catalyst for his lauded 1975 release Blow by Blow). Cobham recruited some heavyweight players for Spectrum, including guitarist Tommy Bolin, fellow Mahavishnu Orchestra alum Jan Hammer on keys, and veteran session bassist Leland Sklar. Crisp production by Ken Scott.

Choice cuts: “Quadrant 4”, “Stratus”, “To the Women in My Life”.

Twice Removed From Yesterday-Robin Trower

After a 4-year stint with Procol Harum (1967-1971), guitarist Robin Trower left so that he could fully realize the expansive soundscapes he hinted at in the ethereal “Song For a Dreamer”, which appeared the final album he did with the band, Broken Barricades. Recruiting bassist/vocalist James DeWar and drummer Reg Isadore, he released this compelling set in 1973. Unfairly dismissed by some as a Hendrix clone, Trower not only developed a distinctive texture and tone, but has proven himself as one of the greatest players ever (well, in my book). Granted, the album does feature Hendrix-ish riff-driven numbers, but evenly balances the mix with beautiful, transporting ballads, carried along by DeWar’s sublime, whiskey-soaked vocals. One of those albums I still listen to on a regular basis.

Choice cuts: “I Can’t Wait Much Longer”, “Daydream”, “Hannah”, “I Can’t Stand It”, “Twice Removed from Yesterday”.

Bonus Tracks!

Here are 10 more gems from 1973 worth a spin:

3+3-The Isley Brothers

Abandoned Luncheonette-Hall & Oates

Band on the Run-Paul McCartney & Wings

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road-Elton John

Houses of the Holy-Led Zeppelin

Lark’s Tongue in Aspic-King Crimson

Mott-Mott the Hoople

Raw Power-The Stooges

Selling England by the Pound-Genesis

Witness-Spooky Tooth

Remember-it’s only rock ‘n’ roll. Now get on your bad motor scooter and RIDE!

Previous posts with related themes:

10 Essential albums of 1969

10 Essential albums of 1970

10 Essential albums of 1971

10 Essential albums of 1972

More reviews at Den of Cinema

— Dennis Hartley

What is “neo-noir”, as opposed to “film noir”? The easiest explanation? Most of your film scholar types generally define the “classic film noir cycle” as cynical, dark, and moody B&W crime dramas produced between 1940 and 1959; consequently, any similar entries going forward automatically get tossed into the “neo” noir bin. Now, there are those who would say (with a certain air of haughtiness) “actually, that’s an oversimplification” (yes, I hear you).

But I’m a simple kind of man. I take my time; I don’t live too fast. Troubles will come, and they will pass. So, for the purposes of this study (and to spare you further Lynyrd Skynyrd quotes) I’m just going to dive in with my picks for the top 10 neo-noirs of the new millennium (so far) …suitable for late night viewing, with a stiff shot of your favorite adult beverage on standby.

Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead – It’s a testament to the late director Sidney Lumet’s gift that his final film (which he made in 2007, at age 82) was just as vital and affecting as any of his best work over a long career. Recalling The King of Marvin Gardens, it’s a nightmarish noir-cum Greek tragedy, starring Philip Seymour Hoffman as a stressed-out businessman with bad debts and very bad habits, which leads him to take desperate measures. He enlists his not-so-bright brother (Ethan Hawke) into helping him pull an ill-advised heist of a jewelry store owned by their elderly parents (Rosemary Harris and Albert Finney). Also with Marisa Tomei, Michael Shannon, and Amy Ryan. Great ensemble work, with a taut screenplay by Kelly Masterson.

Collateral – Tom Cruise is unarguably the most popular movie star on the planet; in fact so synonymous with market-tested box-office mega-product that he seems more of a “brand” than a human being…which is why I’m always blind-sided when he occasionally reminds me that he can still act (when he wants to). One case in point: Michael Mann’s 2004 film.

Cruise disappears into his role as a suave sociopath, a contract killer who enlists an unsuspecting L.A. cabbie (Jamie Foxx) to be his wheel man as he coolly checks off his “to do” list for the evening. Equal parts neo-noir, hostage drama, and psychological thriller; incredibly tense. Brilliant cinematography by Dion Beebe and Paul Cameron captures the vibe of L.A. at night in unique fashion (nice little unexpected touches, like a glimpse of a coyote sauntering across a downtown street). The populous supporting cast includes Jada Pinkett Smith, Mark Ruffalo, Debi Mazar, Peter Berg, and Javier Bardem. Stuart Beattie wrote the screenplay.

Drive – Ryan Gosling gives one of his best performances to date as a Hollywood stuntman by day, a wheelman-for-hire by night in this richly atmospheric, top-notch 2011 crime thriller from Danish director Nicolas Winding (with a screenplay by Hossein Amini and James Sallis). Paradoxically (and in true Steve McQueen fashion) Gosling is technically giving more of a non-performance; he is not quite all there, yet he is wholly present (i.e. the less he “does”, the more intriguing he becomes). From a purely cinematic standpoint, the director proves himself to be on a par with masters of modern noir like Michael Mann, David Lynch and Christopher Nolan. Perhaps the biggest surprise is Albert Brooks, whose quietly menacing turn as a mean, spiteful, razor-toting viper goes against type (don’t expect Albert to be the “ ha-ha” kind of clown in this outing; more like the John Wayne Gacy kind of clown). (Full review)

The Guilty – Essentially a chamber piece set in a police station call center, this 2018 thriller is a “one night in the life of…” character study of a Danish cop (Jakob Cedergren) who has been busted down to emergency dispatcher. Demonstratively glum about pulling administrative duties, the tightly wound officer resigns himself to another dull shift manning the phones.

However, if he was hoping for something exciting to break the monotony, he’s about to fulfill the old adage “be careful what you wish for” once he takes a call from a frantic woman who has been kidnapped. Before he gets enough details to pinpoint her location, she hangs up. As he’s no longer authorized to respond in person, he resolves to redeem himself with his superiors by MacGyvering a way to save her as he races a ticking clock.

Considering the “action” is limited to the confines of a police station and largely dependent on a leading man who must find 101 interesting ways to emote while yakking on a phone for 80 minutes, writer-director Gustav Möller and his star perform nothing short of a minor miracle turning this scenario into anything but another dull night at the movies. Packed with nail-biting tension, Rashomon-style twists, and bereft of explosions, CGI effects or elaborate stunts, this terrific thriller renews your faith in the power of a story well-told. I haven’t seen the 2021 U.S. remake…but I don’t see how you could improve on perfection. (Full review)

Killer Joe – This 2012 film is a blackly funny and deliriously nasty piece of work from veteran director William Friedkin. Jim Thompson meets Sam Shepherd (with a whiff of Tennessee Williams) in this dysfunctional trailer trash-strewn tale of avarice, perversion and murder-for-hire, adapted for the screen by Tracy Letts from his own play. While the noir tropes in the narrative holds few surprises, the squeamish are forewarned that the 76 year-old Friedkin still has a formidable ability to startle unsuspecting viewers; proving you’re never too old to earn an NC-17 rating. How startling? The real litmus test occurs during the film’s climactic scene, which is so Grand Guignol that (depending on your sense of humor) you’ll either cringe and cover your eyes…or laugh yourself sick. (Full review)

Man on the Train –There are a only a handful of films I have become emotionally attached to, usually for reasons I can’t completely fathom. This 2002 drama is one of them. Best described as an “existential noir”, Patrice LeConte’s relatively simple tale of two men in their twilight years with disparate life paths (a retired poetry teacher and a career felon) forming an unexpected deep bond turns into a transcendent film experience. French pop star Johnny Hallyday and screen veteran Jean Rochefort deliver mesmerizing performances. There apparently was a 2011 remake; but as in the case of The Guilty (above)…I don’t see the point.

Memories of Murder –Buoyed by its artful production and knockout performances, this visceral and ultimately haunting 2003 police procedural from director Joon-ho Bong (Parasite) really gets under your skin. Based on the true story of South Korea’s first known serial killer, it follows a pair of rural homicide investigators as they search for a prime suspect.

Initially, they seem bent on instilling more fear into the local citizenry than the lurking killer, as they proceed to violate every civil liberty known to man. Soon, however, the team’s dynamic is tempered by the addition of a more cool-headed detective from Seoul, who takes the profiler approach. The film doubles as a fascinating glimpse into modern South Korean society and culture.

No Country For Old Men – The bodies pile up faster than you can say Blood Simple in Joel and Ethan Coen’s masterfully constructed 2007 neo-noir (which earned them a shared Best Director trophy). The brothers’ Oscar-winning screenplay (adapted from the Cormac McCarthy novel) is rich in characterization and thankfully devoid of the self-conscious quirkiness that has left some of their latter-day films teetering on self-parody.

The story is set among the sagebrush and desert heat of the Tex-Mex border, where the deer and the antelope play. One day, good ol’ boy Llewelyn (Josh Brolin) is shootin’ at some food (the playful antelope) when he encounters a grievously wounded pit bull. The blood trail leads to discovery of the aftermath of a shootout. As this is Coen country…that twisty trail does lead to a twisty tale.

Tommy Lee Jones gives a wonderful low-key performance as an old-school, Gary Cooper-ish lawman who (you guessed it) comes from a long line of lawmen. Jones’ face is a craggy, world-weary road map of someone who has reluctantly borne witness to every inhumanity man is capable of, and is counting down the days to imminent retirement (‘cos it’s becoming no country for old men…).

The cast is outstanding. Javier Bardem picked up a Best Supporting Actor statue for his turn as a psychotic hit man. His performance is understated, yet menacing, made all the more unsettling by his Peter Tork haircut. Kelly McDonald and Woody Harrelson are standouts as well. Curiously, Roger Deakins wasn’t nominated for his cinematography, but his work on this film ranks among his best. (Full review)

Rampart – In a published interview, hard-boiled scribe James Ellroy once said of his (typical) protagonists “…I want to see these bad, bad, bad, bad men come to grips with their humanity.”  Later in the interview, Ellroy confided that he “…would like to provide ambiguous responses in my readers.” If those were his primary intentions in the screenplay that drives Oren Moverman’s gripping and unsettling 2011 film (co-written with the director), I would say that he has succeeded mightily on both counts. If you’re seeking car chases, shootouts and a neatly wrapped ending tied with a bow-look elsewhere. Not unlike one of those classic 1970s character studies, this film just sort of…starts, shit happens, and then it sort of…stops. But don’t let that put you off-it’s what’s inside this sandwich that matters, namely the fearless and outstanding performance from a gaunt and haunted Woody Harrelson, so good here as a bad, bad, bad, bad L.A. cop. (Full review)

Whelm – Set in rural Indiana during the Great Depression, writer-director Skyler Lawson’s 2021 debut feature centers on two brothers: Reed (Dylan Grunn) and August (Ronan Colfer), a troubled war veteran. Desperate for money, the siblings get in over their heads with a suave, charismatic but felonious fellow named Jimmy (Grant Schumacher) and a cerebral, enigmatic man of mystery named Alexander Aleksy (Delil Baran). Equal parts heist caper, psychological drama, and historical fantasy. A handsomely mounted period piece, drenched in gorgeous, wide scope “magic hour” photography shot (almost unbelievably) in 16mm by Edward Herrera. The film evokes laconic “heartland noirs” of the ‘70s like Terrence Malick’s Days of Heaven and Robert Altman’s Thieves Like Us. (Full review)

Honorable mentions:

The Irishman

Mulholland Drive

The Man in the Basement

Motherless Brooklyn

Blade Runner 2049

Child’s Pose

The Hunt

The Silence

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

The Sweeney

Mesrine

Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans

The Escapist

The Limits of Control

More reviews at Den of Cinema

— Dennis Hartley

In my 2010 review of Sheng Ding’s Little Big Soldier, I wrote:

I will confess that I have not gone out of my way to follow action star Jackie Chan’s career. According to the Internet Movie Database, he has made 99 films; after a quick perusal of that impressive list, I’d guesstimate that I have seen approximately, let’s see, somewhere in the neighborhood of, oh, around…four.

So when I say that Little Big Soldier is the best Jackie Chan flick I’ve ever seen, you can take that with a grain of salt. There is one camp of Chan’s devotees who would tell you that you can’t truly appreciate his prowess as an entertainer until you’ve seen one of his Hong Kong productions; I think I understand what they are talking about now.

Of course, you could easily apply this caveat to any number of accomplished actors from Europe or Asia who, due to their broken English, give the impression of impaired performances when they star in Hollywood films.

For example, let’s say I was a (what’s a polite term?) casual ‘murcan moviegoer who had never heard of The Last Metro, The Return of Martin Guerre or Jean de Florette, and my first awareness of Gerard Depardieu was seeing him in 102 Dalmatians. “Loved the puppies, but who was that dopey fat French dude?”

So, while Chan’s latest Hollywood vehicle, The Karate Kid inundates 3700 screens, in the meantime this splendidly acted and handsomely mounted comedy-adventure-fable from director Sheng Ding sits in the wings, awaiting U.S. distribution.

Now, 13 years later, as of this writing, I can officially count the number of Jackie Chan films I’ve seen on one hand: Police Story, Police Story 2, Drunken Master, Little Big Soldier, and his latest starring vehicle, Ride On (in theaters only).

It’s interesting kismet that Ride On (written and directed by Larry Yang) opened in the U.S. on Jackie Chan’s 69^th birthday (April 7^th) because on a certain level the film plays like a sentimental salute to the international action star’s 60-year career.

That is not to suggest that Chan appears on the verge of being put out to pasture; he still has energy and agility to spare. That said, the shelf life of stuntpersons (not unlike professional athletes) is wholly dependent on their stamina and fortitude. It’s not likely to shock you that Chan is cast here as (wait for it) Lao, an aging movie stuntman. Lao has fallen on hard times; movie gigs have become far and few between.

The good-natured Lao and his faithful horse/stunt partner Red Hare (who he has raised from a foal) have been reduced to working odd jobs and street performing to scrape by. When an attempt to seize Red Hare as collateral escalates into an altercation between Lao and a trio of thuggish debt collectors, a cell phone video of the incident goes viral and  puts Lao and Red Hare in the spotlight. Lacking the money to retain a lawyer, Lao swallows his pride and enlists his estranged daughter Bao (Liu Haocun) and her attorney boyfriend (Kevin Guo) to help him keep Red Hare. Father and daughter slowly rebuild their relationship.

While not saddled by a complex narrative, Ride On gallops right along; spurred by Chan’s charm and unbridled flair for physical comedy (sorry, I had a Gene Shalit moment). And the stunts, of course, are spectacular (in the end credits, it’s noted the film is dedicated to the craft). In one scene, Lao views a highlight reel of “his” stunt career; a collection of classic stunt sequences from Chan’s own films; it gives lovely symmetry to the film and is quite moving.

When he is enlisted to do a stunt with Red Hare on a big-budget film, Lao is aghast at the idea of CGI enhancement in post; he politely insists that the director allow him to perform the stunt au naturel. There are other self-referential touches; Lao laments that “jumping down is easy…stepping down is hard.” The film’s best line is surely a stunt man’s credo: “Action! Jump! Hospital!” I don’t know if Chan contributed that one …but he most certainly has lived it.

This quiz is for non-Chicago residents only: If I say to you “Chicago comedy scene”, what’s the first thing that comes to mind?

If you answered, “Second City”, that’s understandable. Chicago continues to be the home of the longest running (and most famous) improvisational comedy troupe, which has served as the breeding ground for a healthy number of  notable actors, comedians, writers, and filmmakers.

However, ladies and gentlemen, the filmmakers behind the new documentary Out of the Loop (available on digital platforms starting April 11^th) prefer to direct your attention to the Windy City’s stand-up scene, which not only boasts its own rich history, but continues to be alive and well, thank you very much.

Directed by Michael Alexander and edited and produced by Scott Perlman, the film is a fairly straightforward talking heads fest, featuring current and former Chicago-based performers like Hannibal Buress, Tom Dreesen, Marsha Warfield, TJ Miller, Megan Gailey, Jeff Garlin, Jimmy Pardo, the late Judy Tenuta, et.al. sharing personal anecdotes and giving their perspectives on Chicago’s comic voice, as it were.

What emerges is that Chicago comedy doesn’t necessarily have one identifiable voice, but rather a diversity of comedic sensibilities. This is due in no small part to distinctive “North side/South side” vibes that are delineated by cultural differences (e.g., a joke that “kills” with a predominately white audience might go over like a lead balloon with a predominately black audience, and vice-versa). While arguably, you could make the same observation regarding the comedy scene in any large metro in the U.S., Chicago also has a unique sociopolitical history. The film delves into this fascinating dichotomy a bit, but ultimately drops it.

Therein lies the problem with the film; it can’t seem to find its focus. It has its moments; the inevitable “hell gig” stories are always a hoot, and it was interesting to learn about the late Bernie Mac’s visionary impact on the scene (in fact, it felt like there was enough potential material there alone to warrant its own feature-length documentary).

Not required viewing, but I won’t heckle any avid stand-up fan who wants to give it a whirl.

Previous posts with related themes:

When Comedy Went to School

Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work

Too Late

International Falls

The Last Laugh

Can We Take a Joke?

Drunk, Stoned, Brilliant, Dead: The Story of the National Lampoon

Funny People

Robin Williams tribute

More reviews at Den of Cinema

—Dennis Hartley

What goes around, comes around. In light of yesterday’s news about the indictment of Donald Trump on nearly 30 criminal counts, and the fact that he will be arraigned on Tuesday at the very same Manhattan facility where the (since exonerated) Central Park 5 were processed back in 1989, I thought I’d re-post my review of the Netflix miniseries When They See Us.

(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 8, 2019)

We all want justice, but you got to have the money to buy it
You’d have to be a fool to close your eyes and deny it
There’s a lot of poor people who are walking the streets of my town
Too blind to see that justice is used to do them right down

All life from beginning to end
You pay your monthly installments
Next to health is wealth
And only wealth will buy you justice

— Alan Price, “Justice” (from the soundtrack for the film O Lucky Man!)

ANTRON McCRAY: [played by Caleel Harris] I lied on you, too.

RAYMOND SANTANA JR.: [played by Marquis Rodriguez] Yeah. Me, too. I’m sorry, man.

YUSEF SALAAM: [played by Ethan Herisse] They made us lie. Right?

KEVIN RICHARDSON: [played by Asante Blackk] Why are they doing us like this?

RAYMOND SANTANA JR.: What other way they ever do us?

— From a scene in the Netflix miniseries When They See Us

The wheels of justice sometimes move in mysterious ways. Via NBC earlier this week:

Former Manhattan prosecutor Linda Fairstein resigned from Vassar College’s board of trustees Tuesday amid a new wave of backlash over her role in the infamous Central Park Five case.

Fairstein’s role in the wrongful conviction and imprisonment of five teenagers of color in 1990, after a white woman was attacked in Central Park, has come under new scrutiny after director Ava DuVernay released a Netflix miniseries about the case, “When They See Us.”

The so-called Central Park Five — Antron McCray, Kevin Richardson, Raymond Santana, Korey Wise and Yusef Salaam — were vindicated 13 years after the crime when a serial rapist confessed to the attack.

[Fairstein]…ran the district attorney’s sex crimes unit at the time of the case. The Netflix series prompted the #CancelLindaFairstein hashtag on social media and calls for her prior cases to be re-examined. […]

“The events of the last few days have underscored how the history of racial and ethnic tensions in this country continue to deeply influence us today, and in ways that change over time,” Bradley said.

Unfortunately for those five young men (ages from 14 to 16 when they were arrested and charged), the extant “social media” platforms throughout the course of their controversial high-profile trials back in 1990 were still relatively old school: phone calls, telegrams, post cards, letters to the editor, graffiti, flyers, rallies, demonstrations, etc.

Those with the biggest bullhorns tended to have the biggest wallets (and the most dubious agendas). For example, if you had $85,000 handy you could place full-page ads in four NYC dailies:

From the Guardian:

On the evening of 19 April [1989], as 28-year-old investment banker Trisha Meili, who was white, jogged across the northern, dilapidated section of Central Park, she was attacked – bludgeoned with a rock, gagged, tied and raped. She was left for dead but discovered hours later, unconscious and suffering from hypothermia and severe brain damage.

The New York police department believed they already had the culprits in custody. […]

[The five young men] would all later deny any involvement in criminality that night, but as they were rounded up and interrogated by the police at length, they said, they were forced into confessing to the rape. […]

Four of the boys signed confessions and appeared on video without a lawyer, each arguing that while they had not been the individual to commit the rape, they had witnessed one of the others do it, thereby implicating the entire group. […]

Just two weeks after the Central Park attack, before any of the boys had faced trial and while Meili remained critically ill in a coma, Donald Trump, whose office on Fifth Avenue commanded an exquisite view of the park’s opulent southern frontier, intervened.

He paid a reported $85,000 to take out advertising space in four of the city’s newspapers, including the New York Times. Under the headline “Bring Back The Death Penalty. Bring Back Our Police!” and above his signature, Trump wrote: “I want to hate these muggers and murderers. They should be forced to suffer and, when they kill, they should be executed for their crimes. They must serve as examples so that others will think long and hard before committing a crime or an act of violence.”

But I don’t want to make this about Donald Trump…even if he is an unavoidable part of the story. Fortunately, neither does director/co-writer Ava Duvernay. That said, Duvernay does not avoid him altogether in her 5-hour Netflix miniseries When They See Us, a dramatization of the events. Trump has several “cameos”, in the form of archival TV interview footage (no actor in a bad toupee is required; she wisely lets him hang himself).

In fact Duvernay and co-writers Julian Breece, Robin Swicord, Attica Locke, and Michael Starrbury forgo focusing on the racist demagoguery and media sensationalism that fueled the rush to judgement in the court of public opinion prior to the trials; opting to explore the deeply personal tribulations of the five accused young men and their families.

The result is a shattering, sobering look at the case and its aftermath; from the inside out, as it were. The story opens the night of the incident; you see how fate and circumstance swept Yusef (Ethan Hiresse and Chris Chalk), Kevin (Assante Blackk and Justin Cunningham), Anton (Caleel Harris and Jovan Adepo), Raymond (Marquis Rodriguez and Freddy Miyares) and Korey (Jharrel Jerome) into the wrong place at the wrong time.

The quintet’s Kafkaesque nightmare begins once the scene shifts to the police station. They’ve been singled out from 30-odd young males alleged to have been roaming Central Park en masse, harassing bikers, runners, and passers-by at random (only two of the five knew each other prior to that night).

They’re taken into separate interrogation rooms for questioning. Pressured by sex crimes unit D.A. Linda Fairstein (Felicity Huffman) to squeeze out confessions ASAP (“Every black male who was in the park last night is a suspect” she declares), the detectives proceed to pull out every old dirty trick in the book.

It’s painful to watch the lopsided match of seasoned interrogators exploiting the boys’ fear and confusion in such a cold and calculated manner. Duvernay reveals every iota of the deepening panic and despair on the young actors’ faces by holding them in long, tight closeups. Inevitably, they all break under the pressure of verbal intimidation and strong-arm tactics.

As we follow the boys’ hellish trajectory through the system-interrogation, detention, trials, sentencing and incarceration, you not only get a palpable sense of what each of them was going through, but how their families suffered as well. You also get a sense of a criminal justice system that does not always follow its provisos-like that part regarding “equal justice under the law” (especially when it comes to people of color…needs work).

While the story of the Central Park 5 does have a “happy ending” (bittersweet), Duvernay does not pull any punches regarding that what befell these kids should never, ever have happened in the first place (especially in an allegedly “free society”).

It was a perfect storm of overzealous law enforcement, socioeconomic inequity, systemic racism, and media-fueled public hysteria that put those innocent young men behind bars. I should warn you-watching this miniseries will break your heart and make you mad. As it should.

(When They See Us is still streaming on Netflix)

More reviews at Den of Cinema

— Dennis Hartley