Ron Howard’s Eden

In the 1930's, the Germans had a nasty habit of fighting with their neighbors. That was even true of the small colony on Floreana Island in the Galapagos. Would-be philosopher Friedrich Ritter and his partner Dore Strauch only had six neighbors, but they fought with all of them. The feuding took a scandalous turn that stoked decades of controversy in the German press and spawned three films. One was a French TV movie adapting a Georges Simenon novel transparently based on the case. The second was the classy “true-crime” documentary” The Galapagos Affair: Satan Came to Eden. This is the third. Director-producer Ron Howard recruited a famous cast, but like previous filmmakers, he shows strangely little interest in the Germany the Floreanans had expatriated themselves from in Eden, which opens Friday in theaters.

Strauch believes Ritter will save the world with his manifesto, but to contemporary ears, it sounds like a warmed-over fusion of Nietzsche and Rousseau, at least before he goes a little crazy. Heinz and Margaret Wittmer are the next to arrive. The couple seems to have an inkling of how bad things will get in Germany. They also believe their ailing son Harry will benefit from the tropical climate. The Rittmer’s instinctively look down on their square, middle-class neighbors, but they grudgingly start to respect the Wittmers for doggedly scraping out a home for themselves.

Unfortunately, “Baroness” Eloise Bosquet de Wagner Wehrhorn lands several months later, along with her two himbo lovers. She has grandiose plans to build a beach resort, but she is ill-prepared for the conditions she finds. As the self-dubbed Baroness’s supplies dwindle, she and her men set their eyes on the Wittmers’ supplies, making them a direct existential threat to the family. Yet, Ritter probably hates her even more, because of the way the Baroness needles his vanity.

Screenwriter Noah Pink offers explanations for the deaths on Floreana, but in real-life (if such a thing still exists), the truth has yet to be established beyond a shadow of a doubt. That is a large part of the story’s appeal. Regardless, despite its ultimate uncertainty, The Galapagos Affair is a much better film, in part due to a more sophisticated vibe (suggesting comparisons to Michael Bradford’s White Mischief). In contrast, Howard aims more for the overheated tone of an old school primetime soap opera. Frankly, he and Pink frequently neglect the mystery/thriller elements, focusing instead of the island’s festering jealousies, sexual power games, and [not-so]-micro aggressions. Consequently, it is often grabby, but in a lurid kind of way.

Jude Law is certainly fun to watch shamelessly chewing the scenery as the arrogant and wildly self-important Ritter. Daniel Bruhl anchors the film, portraying Heinz Wittmer with dignity and intensity that it maybe does not fully deserve. To her credit, Sydney Sweeney so thoroughly transforms herself into the hardscrabble Margaret Wittmer, a perpetually offended wokester could watch the entire film without getting “triggered”—at least not by Sweeney and her “good jeans.”

Race for Glory, Produced by Jeremy Thomas

Rally racing is sort of like NASCAR stock racing for Europeans. Similarly, this film could be considered Italy’s Ford vs. Ferrari. In this case, the Italian Lancia motor company is the underdog against Audi, but team manager Cesare Fiorio has some tricks up his sleeve in Stefano Mordini’s Race for Glory (a.k.a. 2Win), produced by Jeremy Thomas, which releases Friday in theaters and on digital.

By 1983, Lancia was questioning their racing commitment and were not willing to match the resources Audi spent on Roland Gumpert’s team, who were consequently considered the clear favorites. Lancia was not even producing a four-wheel drive car. However, the model Fiorio settled on was considerably lighter, which would be a clear advantage during some races, but not others. He was also determined to recruit Walter Rohrl, who was considered far and away the best rally driver not already signed to a team.

Rohrl is rather cagey, eventually agreeing to drive some races, but not others. Fiorio makes that deal, assuming Rohrl will change his mind to pursue the top driver honors of the season. Yet, he makes it clear he meant exactly what he said. Repeatedly, Rohrl pointedly tells Fiorio: “just losers only care about winners.” Easily, this is the best written line of the film.

Indeed, Rohrl’s approach to his sport is indeed the most interesting aspect of Race for Glory. The rest is pretty standard scrappy underdog stuff. Watching Fiorio out-fox the Audi team is reasonably entertaining thanks to Riccardo Scamarcio (the Italian gangster John Wick killed in The Continental), the star, co-writer, and co-producer, who ardently projects the Lancia captain’s passion for racing.

Delpy’s The Countess

Her notorious beauty regimen still inspires horror films to this day. This is not necessarily one of them, even though it tells the story of Elizabeth Bathory. Director, screenwriter, and star Julie Delpy tries to give the Bathory story a feminist spin, but since she still bathes on the blood of virgins, it is not so persuasive. Regardless, Bathory definitely gets the benefit of modern revisionism in Delpy’s The Countess, which screens Tuesday as part of the Film Fantastique: Lust and Blood series at the New York FIAF.

Erzsebet Bathory was betrothed at birth to Count Ferenc Nasady, whom she never really cares for, but since he is away most of the time fighting the Turks, the arrangement largely suits her. She spends much of her time with Anna Darvulia, her alchemical advisor and sometimes lesbian lover. After Nasady’s untimely death (perhaps poisoned by the king, who was much in the Count’s debt), Bathory is pursued by the powerful Count Gyorgy Thurzo, but she prefers the romantic company of his son Istvan (the future rector of University of Wittenberg, the one in Germany).

Thanks to the Count Thurzo’s machinations, Bathory unfairly believes her lover has spurned her. This sends her spiraling into madness, marked by a toxic vanity. Blaming her wrinkles for her misery, she happens upon a macabre solution after beating an unfortunate servant (thanks to the splatter). The subsequent horrors she commits will make her a legend. They also make her vulnerable to Count Thurzo’s power play.

Istvan Thruzo’s “history is written by the victors” wrap-around narration suggests the entire Bathory legend might be a fabrication, but the murders and bloodlettings Delpy depicts graphically suggest otherwise. Surely, a feminist re-telling of Bathory tale must sympathize first and foremost with her young, virginal victim, whose peasant-status made them easy prey for the Countess, right? Right? (Just like feminists should be screaming in outrage at the way Hamas viciously weaponized sexual violence against innocent Israeli women and children? Right? Right??)

Yet, except for the Thurzo’s voiceovers, there is little that inspires sympathy for Bathory. In fact, it is an intriguing performance by Delpy, precisely because it is so cold-blooded, so to speak. Frankly, this film would have worked better if it leaned into the horror of her mass-murder more forcefully. Arguably, Delpy mismatched her great performance of merciless villainy with a contemporary pseudo-feminist, anti-establishment screenplay. Ironically, by embracing this perspective, she does herself a great disservice as a thesp.

The Alienist: Caleb Carr’s Novel Comes to TNT

The state of psychological treatment was pretty grim around the late Nineteenth Century, but fortunately you were much more likely to die from disease, malnutrition, or industrial accidents before depression or schizophrenia could really run their course. Murder was also a possibility. Dr. Laszlo Kreizler is a progressive head-shrinker and a pioneering criminologist loosely attached to the NYPD. Even the reformist commissioner, Teddy Roosevelt is skeptical of his methods, but he will empower his investigation of a suspected serial killer anyway in TNT’s limited series adaptation of Caleb Carr’s The Alienist (trailer here), which premieres tomorrow night.

Kreizler is an odd fellow, but he still has a knack for convincing newspaper illustrator John Moore to do his bidding. Moore will be less than thrilled when Kreizler sends him out to sketch the grisly crime scene where a murdered boy prostitute was found, but he does it anyway. Kreizler is convinced the killer has struck before, but the uniformed officers are either paid to look the other way or too callous to care.

They both have shared history with TR, but that will only get them so far. Moore also had some prior dealings with Roosevelt’s stereotype-challenging assistant Sara Howard, but that was all quite unfortunate. Nevertheless, the three will become the brain-trust of a semi-official task force, rounded out by Sergeants Marcus and Lucius Isaacson, who are not well-liked on the force, due to their modern investigative techniques (as well as the fact they are Jewish). Howard will report their findings directly to Roosevelt, because Captain Connor is transparently corrupt and quite possibly complicit in the murders, at least to some extent.

Based on the first two episodes, will feel confident saying The Alienist is a prime example of the importance of casting. As Connor, David Wilmot is already a bad guy we love to hate and the great Ted Levine promises even greater scenery-chewing villainy as his predecessor, Thomas Byrnes. The three primary leads, Daniel Brühl, Dakota Fanning, and Luke Evans are also bang-on target.

In fact, Kreizler could very well be the breakout role Brühl has struggled to find after Inglorious Basterds led to predictions he would be the next big thing. He really has the right blend of twitchiness and arrogance. Evans keeps his jaw squared as Moore, while Fanning is strong but sensitive as Howard. Only Brian Geraghty seems off-the-mark, coming across rather passive and milquetoast as TR (who was nobody’s shrinking violet).

The Alienist is a richly detailed period production (executive produced by Cary Fukunaga, with John Sayles on board as a “consulting producer”), but after two installments, Hossein Amini’s adaptation still feels somewhat weighted down with exposition. Presumably, helmer Jakob Verbruggen will quicken the pace for the subsequent six episodes. It certainly shows promise and fans of the original novel should appreciate its faithfulness. Recommended (so far) for viewers of BBC America shows, like Copper and Ripper Street, The Alienist begins tomorrow night (1/22) on TNT.

The Zookeeper’s Wife: Zoology in Wartime

The National Socialists were compulsive looters. In addition to systematically ransacking Europe’s great art collections, they also helped themselves to the rare breeds that survived in occupied zoos. Perhaps the most notorious case was the plundering of the Warsaw Zoo, led by the formerly respected zoologist Lutz Heck. However, Dr. Jan and Antonina Zabinski responded with secret defiance, sheltering hundreds of Jewish fugitives within zoo grounds. Diane Ackerman’s bestselling nonfiction account of the Zabinskis’ heroic resistance gets the big screen treatment in Niki Caro’s The Zookeeper’s Wife (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

Dr. Jan Zabinski was the official director of the Warsaw Zoo (as well as Superintendent of Warsaw’s city parks), but the staff universally recognized his wife Antonina as an unofficial co-director. Even a visiting Germany zoologist with the Bond villain name of Lutz Heck acknowledged her expertise at handling animals. Indeed, she made quite an impression. Following the signing of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact and the joint German-Soviet invasion of Poland, Heck returns to help himself to the zoo’s prized animals. He pretends he will merely hold them for safe-keeping and they pretend to believe him. After all, at the point in the war, Germany really did look like a safer harbor for them to live, no matter how temporarily.

Heck returns yet again to pursue his bizarre project to genetically cross-breed the Auroch, a dead species of wild cattle back into existence, utilizing the zoo’s facilities. One would think an extinct bovine would not be the sort of symbolism the National Socialists would want to associate with the Third Reich, but somehow, they did indeed believe the late, lamented Auroch represented Aryan purity, or something. Regardless, Heck becomes a constant presence at the zoo, which offers a measure of protection from the occupying authorities but also represents a constant threat of danger.

By this time, the Zabinskis were sheltering dozens of Polish Jews. Some stayed only a few days, while others spent most of the war years in the cellar of the zoo villa. Under Heck’s pompous nose, Dr. Zabinski developed a system with the chairman of the Jewish council to regularly smuggle Jews out of the ghetto. Inevitably, he would also join the Home Army and fight during the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, but his capture will leave his wife and their young son Ryszard in a precarious position.

This really is an incredible story of courage and sacrifice, plus it has furry mammals. However, parents should keep in mind this is a PG-13 movie. It has a tremendous message, but the film does not water down just how perilous the wartime conditions were for the animals. There are no actual scenes of concentration camps, but observant viewers will recognize Dr. Janusz Korczak (memorably depicted in Andrzej Wajda’s Korczak) and his children during the Treblinka deportations (and everyone should understand the fate that awaited them).

Caro and cinematographer Andrij Parekh create some strikingly surreal imagery through the juxtaposition of the Eden-like zoo and its exotic creatures with the horrific realities of war. However, Caro and screenwriter Angela Workman give Dr. Zabinski’s extensive involvement with the Home Army rather short shrift.

Regardless, the film gets the broad strokes right, vividly capturing a sense of the constant fear the Zabinskis lived with. Jessica Chastain directly conveys the titular character’s comfort with animals and her hesitancy around people, but she is clearly trying to do something misguidedly Streepian with her slip-sliding accent. Still, she and the (Flemish) rock solid Johan Heldenbergh develop some subtle but powerful chemistry as the Zabinskis. Between this film and Vincent Pérez’s Alone in Berlin, Daniel Brühl is in very real danger of being typecast as an impotent Nazi hack, but he gives the film a bit of an edge as the creepy Heck.

This is such a remarkable story it is downright baffling nobody tried to tell it before. Caro and Workman consistently opt for mainstream decorum, but they arguably deserve credit for underplaying the obvious “people in a zoo” metaphor. Respectfully recommended for general audiences, The Zookeeper’s Wife opens tomorrow (3/31) in New York, at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema.