Moon Garden

This childhood fantasy could scar most kids worse than Watership Down or Return to Oz. It is a child’s story, but it definitely is not for kids. The situation is gravely serious when five-year-old Emma falls into a coma, as are the circumstances surrounding her accident. To regain consciousness, she must journey through the nightmarescape of her subconscious in screenwriter-editor-director Ryan Stevens Harris’s Moon Garden, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Before Emma tumbled down the stairs, her mother, Sara, had intended to run off with her into the night, deserting her father, Alex. Initially, he seems fiercely domineering and prone to outbursts of rage, but as we see flashbacks of their lives together through their daughter’s eyes, it becomes clear their relationship is more complicated and emotionally fraught. It should immediately be established Alex is never directly abusive towards Emma. Much of his impatience and rage stems from Sara’s own severe bouts of depression and perhaps other mental health issues.

That is bad, but the macabre world Emma’s subconscious mind creates is even scarier. In creating this fantasy world, Harris clearly took inspiration from Jan Svanmajer and the Brothers Quay. The environment is highly textured and fibrous. Wolfgang Meyer’s cinematography is dark, but his golds and crimsons glow, in a manner reminiscent of William Cameron Menzies’ Invaders from Mars.

Harris’s narrative is simple, but every episode of Emma’s journey is probably loaded with symbolism, for those who are bold enough to dive in looking for it. This is guaranteed to become a cult film, because it is a remarkably singular vision, but you really have to be in the right mood for it.

The Girl Without Hands, on OVID.tv

This fairy tale might represent the Brothers Grimm at their darkest and most satanic, which is saying something. It also ends with a happily-ever-after, but not for everyone—and those who do, will have to go through an awful lot to get there. First, the unfortunate girl of the title must bear the physical brunt of her father’s Faustian bargain in Sebastien Laudenbach’s The Girl Without Hands, which premieres tomorrow on OVID.tv.

The Miller was so desperately poor, his hunger made him easy prey for the Devil. Appearing as an old wanderer, he offered the man riches in exchange for what was behind his mill. The unhappy man was only thinking of the apple tree, but his daughter happened to be climbing it at the time. Of course, once the Miller had a taste for riches, he was not about to back out of the deal.

Yet, the Devil is constantly stymied by the Girl’s virtue. First, he has the greedy father cut off her hands, because they were touched by her tears of purity. Yep, super soothing bedtime story. When he still cannot take possession of her, he allows her out into the world, so he can prey on her through his deceitful magic.

Single-handedly animated by Laudenbach, Girl Without Hands is stunningly elegant to behold. Stylistically, it could be the closest thing to an original feature animated by Matisse. However, the abstractness of the characters’ features can be a little distancing.

Nevertheless, Laudenbach’s animation is truly a work of art and there is something about it that really expresses the archetypal essence of the Grimm fairy tale. This is about as sophisticated as animation gets. Yet, it also emphasizes the sinister, supernatural flavor of the Brothers Grimm.

CineFesta Italia ’18: Cinderella the Cat

There are no fairy godmothers in Naples. Prince Charming is the “King” of the underworld—and he’s no prince. Fortunately, Mia is a resourceful young girl, but not for long. She is about to come of age and inherit her murdered father’s fortune in Ivan Cappiello, Marino Guarnieri, Alessandro Rak & Dario Sansone’s mature animated fable, Cinderella the Cat (trailer here), which screens during CineFesta Italia 2018 in Santa Fe.

Vittorio Basile’s plan to revitalize the Naples seaport district is so visionary, only he understands it. His grand QE2-like cruise ship headquarters and its pseudo-artificial intelligence only hints at the potential grandeur of the project. Unfortunately, Basile falls for the wrong woman, torch-singer Angelica Carannante, who is conspiring with her lover, gangster Salvatore Lo Giusto to kill Basile as soon as the rings are exchanged. They will have to keep his young daughter Mia around until she is old enough to sign over her inheritance, but that does not mean her wicked step-sisters (and drag queen step-brother) have to be nice to her.

Young Mia had a rather touching relationship with her bodyguard Primo Gemito (sort of like the Man on Fire movies), but alas, he is the first person Carannante fires. However, he will make a dramatic return to the now shabby-looking ship as an undercover cop. Frankly, the rusty vessel is a good place to nose around, because it often records significant moments and projects the holographic playback at times that are either extremely opportune or inopportune, depending on one’s perspective.

This is not a Cinderella for kids, but it is wonderfully stylish and rather inventive. With its retro-futuristic fairy tale setting and holographic imagery, it feels something like a cross between the under-appreciated Italian science fiction classic, Morel’s Invention and maybe Streets of Fire, or who knows what. Plus, as an added bonus, there are several contemporary pop-big band musical numbers that are quite jaunty.

Yes, there are four, count them four, credited directors on Cenerentola, but the look and tone are always consistent. Along with three additional co-screenwriters, they create some unusually sharply drawn characters. Their villains are particularly strong, especially the glamorous femme fatale Carannante. Arguably, the traumatized Mia is the least developed, but everyone around her more than compensates.

There is a cat who occasionally slinks in and out, but the title is figurative. However, there is a talking crow, who has a significant role to play. Frankly, this Cinderella is probably too adult for GKIDS to handle (more so even than Chico & Rita or Mind Game), which is a shame, because they might be the only distributor who can handle animation this sophisticated.

Regardless, animation fans will be impressed by the originality and ambition of this noir fairy tale. Again, it should be fully understood this is not a kid’s cartoon. It is meant for grown-ups with discerning taste, who still enjoy a little mayhem. Very highly recommended, Cinderella the Cat screens this Saturday (4/21) at the Jean Cocteau Cinema, as part of this year’s CineFesta Italia.

Veronica Ngo’s Tam Cam: The Untold Story

This Vietnamese fairy is a lot like Cinderella, but the slipper is golden rather than glass. There is also more death and reincarnation. As if that were not promising enough, Veronica Ngo (soon to be even more famous as the star of Star Wars: The Last Jedi) adds demons and Braveheart-style battles in her adaptation. The Cinderella step-sister has it particularly hard, but karma will do as it does in Ngo’s Tam Cam: The Untold Story (trailer here), which opens this Friday in select cities.

Poor Tam is bullied rotten by her nasty step-mother Di Ghe and vain step-sister Cam, but she gets encouragement from a Joel Grey-like Fairy Godfather. There will indeed be a royal ball, open to all, where the disinterested Prince (and acting Regent) will chose a bride. Di Ghe conspires to keep Tam away, but her Fairy Godfather gets her there in time to try on the fateful slipper.

Sadly, even after she marries the Prince, Tam is not allowed to live happily ever after. Prodded by the evil Magistrate, Di Ghe murders Tam and convinces the Prince to allow Cam to care for him, as Tam supposedly would have wanted. However, Tam constantly reincarnates as birds or trees to save the shockingly unintuitive Prince from the Magistrate’s assassination attempts. Unfortunately, all appears lost when the Prince’s trusted lieutenant betrays him in battle, but Tam and the Fairy folk are still looking out for him.

The original tale of Tam and Cam takes a turn that is grislier than just about anything you will find in Perrault, Basile, or the Brothers Grimm. Ngo is probably wise to file down that sharp edge, but she adds plenty of hack-and-slash action and demonic brimstone. Frankly, it is pretty impressive how many narrative balls she manages to juggle, thereby securing a number of featured roles for members of 365, the Vietnamese boy band she produces.

Actually, the boys aren’t bad hacking away at each other. Ha Vi certainly comes across as a sweet innocent as Tam, whereas Ninh Duong Lan Ngoc convincingly plays against type (she was the endearing lottery ticket seller in Jackpot) as the catty Cam, but nobody out vamps Ngo as the wicked stepmother. Forget about Jolie in Maleficent or Blanchett in the recent live-action Cinderella, because they pale in comparison to Ngo’s flamboyant villainy.

She can also direct. Ngo and Diep The Vinh capitalize on Vietnam’s stunning natural vistas (at least as seen from a drone’s eye-view) to give the film a real epic feel. Her war scenes have grit and the CGI is a little wacky, but still better than you would expect.

It is hard to dislike Tam Cam, because it is one of those kitchen-sink kind of film, where crazy stuff is constantly thrown in, for the sake of our entertainment. Arguably, the fact that it maintains a consistent sense of narrative logic is a tribute to Ngo. It is wild, tragic, romantic, melodramatic, sometimes a little goofy, and most importantly fun. Recommended for fans of fairy tales and Ngo, Tam Cam: The Untold Story opens this Friday (9/29) in Orange County at the Regal Garden Grove and in San Jose at the AMC Eastbridge.

NYICFF ’17: Ivan Tsarevitch and the Changing Princess

No firebirds for Ivan Tsarevitch this time around, but there is a princess. Michel Ocelot has a keen appreciation for folklore, but he generally takes what he likes and alters the rest to suit his tastes. The characters of his Tales of the Night/Dragons et princesses pseudo-franchise do the same. The old projectionist and his two young friends still meet in the bankrupt revival theater to share visions of films they would like to make in Ocelot’s Ivan Tsarevitch and the Changing Princess: Four Enchanting Tales (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

In a curious inversion, the four tales start with the most compelling and deeply resonant of the bunch. The Mistress of Monsters tells the story of a beleaguered little slave girl who comes to understand the power she holds to command the monsters imprisoning her tribe, with the help of a Jiminy Cricket-like rat. The starkness of this tale is particularly well suited to Ocelot’s sophisticated yet Spartan silhouette style of animation (in the tradition of Lotte Reiniger’s Adventures of Prince Achmed).

The next two tales, involving and a reluctant young pirate who happens to own an extraordinarily good mousing cat and a different sort of sorcerer’s apprentice are quite pleasant, but maybe a little pat. However, the concluding title tale is quite a memorable twist on fairy tale courtships. To save his father, a poor but noble Tsar, Ivan Son-of must acquire a chain of unobtainable treasures for a series of covetous tsars. The final treasure is the cursed Changing Princess, but, much to her surprise, they fall in love instead. Rather than complicating matters, she might just be able to make her curse save his father and secure their happiness.

It is almost misleading to use the term “silhouette” to describe Ocelot’s animation for these fables, because his backdrops are so ornately designed and his use of color is so lush and rich. These are just lovely films. However, there is a bit of sameness to each tale, because the all tend to hit similar emotional beats. Frankly, the fifty-some minute running time might be about right for an Ocelot fable compilation film.

Without a doubt, Ocelot’s elegant craftsmanship and his inclusive exoticism are aesthetically pleasing. Arguably, these films are a good way to expand children’s perception of what animation can be. Still, animation connoisseurs will respect this latest batch of Tales of Dragons and Princesses of the Night, rather than getting bowled over by them. Recommended for fans of folk stories and fairy tales, Ivan Tsarevitch and the Changing Princess screens this Sunday (3/5) at the sold-out City Point Alamo Drafthouse and Sunday the 19^th at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYICFF.

Gans’ Beauty and the Beast

Disney dearly hopes you will not see this French adaptation of the fairy definitively penned by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont, because just about any competitive live action film will suffer in comparison. Of course, there is already the Jean Cocteau masterpiece and Disney’s own exceptional animated feature. However, for pure visual spectacle, it will be hard to equal Christophe Gans’ Beauty and the Beast (trailer here), which opens this Friday in Los Angeles.

The story is still a fairy tale, suitable for a mother to tell as a bedtime story for her two rapt children in the film’s framing device. Belle is also still the beauty and consequently the apple of her merchant father’s eye. Sadly, all of the old man’s ships are lost at sea, forcing his family into provincial poverty. Yet, clean country living agrees with Belle (but not so much with her five entitled siblings).

Returning home from an ill-fated attempt to recoup his fortune, the merchant takes shelter in an ominous castle. He eats well before helping himself to some luxurious gifts for his shallow older daughters and finally a rose for Belle—the only gift she requested. His unseen host takes exception to this. That would be the Beast. As punishment for his desecration, the beast sentences the merchant to death, giving him one final day to make his farewells. However, the noble Belle returns in his place before the distraught father can stop her.

Of course, the Beast is not about to kill such a fair maiden. Instead, he provides some lovely gowns for her to wear at their awkward formal dinners. Viewers basically know where things go from here, but instead of the arrogant Gaston, it will be Perducas, her wastrel brother’s cutthroat underworld creditor, who will come barging in uninvited.

This time around, we also get more of the Beast’s backstory, which surprisingly pay-offs with third act call-backs. It is a richly archetypal narrative, but Belle’s love for the Beast blossoms way faster than Gans and co-screenwriter Sandra Vo-Anh duly establish. Of course, we know it will happen, so apparently they decided to let us fill in the blanks.

Regardless, this Beauty and the Beast is a majestic triumph of vision and art direction. The sets, trappings, and costumes are wonderfully lush and detailed. Although the vibe is suitably gothic, there is a touch of Dali in production designer Thierry Flamand’s work, especially when it comes to the giant statues. The visual effects are also first rate, as when those giant statues attack.

Vincent Cassel is appropriately fierce and feral as the beast, while Léa Seydoux scratches out some direct and engaging emotional moments, which is a challenge for a little miss perfect like Belle. The venerable André Dussollier does his thing once again, further classing up the joint as the merchant. However, Eduardo Noriega nearly steals the show masticating the scenery with villainous glee as Perducas. He also nicely plays with and off Myriam Charleins as Perducas’ mysterious tarot-reading lover and co-conspirator.

Some of Belle’s siblings are a bit shticky, but in general the ensemble acquits itself quite well. Nevertheless, the real star of this B&B is the arresting fantasy world Gans creates. He even gives us a passel of animation-augmented Beagles, so good luck topping that Bill Condon and the rest of the Disney team. Highly recommended for all fans of fairy tale and fantasy cinema, Gans’ Beauty and the Beast opens this Friday (9/23) in Los Angeles, at the Laemmle Monica Film Center.

The Curse of Sleeping Beauty: Briar Rose with Demons

It is time to put the grim back in Grimm’s. This is not a teen-angst television fairy tale. The Briar Rose fable of Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm has been transformed into a contemporary horror film—finally. She is still waiting to be kissed, but there are some pretty sinister creatures guarding her in Pearry Reginald Teo’s The Curse of Sleeping Beauty (trailer here), which opens this Friday in Los Angeles.

Thomas Kaiser never knew he had an uncle, but the reclusive old man just bequeathed him the family mansion. Unfortunately, the ramshackle haunted house makes Grey Gardens look like Falling Water. It is probably no joke about it being haunted. People seem to disappear there, like Linda’s brother. Ever since, she has been obsessed with the property and its murky history. Frankly, she seems to know more than he does when he first arrives. However, he quickly realizes the house is related to his reoccurring dreams of the princess in a magically-induced coma.

The good news is Briar Rose must be close, because Kaiser can finally talk to her in their shared dreams. The bad news is Kaiser’s spirit has been supernaturally bound to the property he was hoping to flip. Prolonged time away from Casa Kaiser leaves him drained and disoriented, whereas his cursed bloodline offers some limited protection from the bad stuff lurking about. He will need all the help he can get when he ventures into the bowels of the house with Linda and her slightly eccentric Van Helsing-esque pal Richard.

Apparently, Kaiser lives in a world where Perrault, the Grimms, and Giambattista Basile never lived, because the name Briar Rose does not mean anything to anybody. However, old Richard is highly conversant in ancient demons and djinns, which comes in handy. Regardless, Teo and co-screenwriter Josh Nadler cleverly incorporate and subvert elements of the classic fairy tale in their adaptation of Everette Hartsoe’s graphic novel. They make intriguing use of ancient lore and modern technology (although not to the extent of the already under-rated The Offering).

India Eisley is the perfect choice for Briar Rose, being lovely and eerily young looking, but “distant,” like a porcelain doll. Ethan Peck (grandson of Gregory) is surprisingly convincing and rather intense as the anti-social and paranormally-afflicted Kaiser. Oscar-nominated character actor Bruce Davison (Longtime Companion) has fun with Richard’s flaky persona, constantly giving the film an energy boost. Restoration’s Zack Ward only has two brief scenes, but he still delivers some of the film’s best lines. Altogether, it is a pretty strong ensemble, with True Blood’s Natalie Hall gamely soldiering through the standard genre stuff her Linda is stuck with.

Curse is quite an impressive genre production, especially with respects to the infernal set pieces created by production designer Alessandro Marvelli, art designer Chris Scheid, and their teams. Likewise, the Briar Rose costume fits the film’s tone perfectly. It is a smart, ambitious indie dark fantasy/horror film worth your consideration. Recommended for those who did not think Tale of Tales was sufficiently macabre, The Curse of Sleeping Beauty opens this Friday (5/13) in Los Angeles, at the Arena Cinema.

AFI’s EU Showcase ’15: Liza the Fox Fairy

Japan is the land of the kaidan and the grudge. Nobody does ghosts better. Even in a whimsical retro-1970s capitalist Hungary, you will find Japanese ghosts tormenting the living. The spirit of 1960s crooner Tomi Tani might look benign, but he will cause all sorts of problems for a naïve private nurse in Károly Ujj Mészáros’s Liza, the Fox-Fairy (trailer here), which screens as part of the AFI’s 2015 EU Film Showcase.

For years, Liza has dutifully cared for Marta, the Hungarian widow of the former Japanese ambassador. Through her employer, Liza has absorbed a love of Japanese history and culture, including Tani’s sugary grooves. For years, the singer has inexplicably haunted Marta’s flat, but only Liza is able to see him, assuming he is a benevolent spirit. Tani has fallen in love with her, but that is a bad thing, especially when the lonely-hearted Liza finally starts to get proactive about romance.

When everyone who gets close to her starts to die, including Marta, Liza figures out she has been cursed to become a mythological Fox-Fairy. All men who love her are doomed to such a fate. Naturally, the police start to suspect her of multiple murders, especially since she inherited her employer’s flat, over the objections of Marta’s greedy relatives. The only exception is the pure-hearted but dangerously clumsy Sgt. Zoltan, an ardent fan of Finnish country music, who becomes Liza’s other unlikely flat-mate.

Fox-Fairy looks like a Wes Anderson film on twee steroids, but it has a surprising edge to it. Arguably, it is more kaidan than quirk-fest, which is cool. However, Liza and Zoltan are also refreshingly gentle souls, whom even the most jaded viewers will root for. Evidently, Mészáros and Bálint Hegedűs adapted a stage play by Zsolt Pozsgai for the big screen, but it is hard to imagine how all their visual mischief-making could be rendered for live theater. Still, it would be worth watching Broadway take a shot at it, even if the production fell on its face. Frankly, the film has way more special effects than you would imagine, but it would be either spoilery or utterly baffling to try to explain their context. Yet, Mészáros always maintains a very personal vibe throughout the film.

Mónika Balsai and Szabolcs Bede-Fazekas are terrific as Liza and Zoltan, respectively. They are both endearing in a puppy dog kind of way and achingly earnest, without ever getting cloying. Likewise, the Danish-Japanese David Sakurai is gleefully evil and impressively suave as Tani. As if he were not entertainingly villainous enough, Zoltán Schmied truly personifies oily sleaze as Henrik, Marta’s playboy nephew, whom Liza mistakenly falls for.

Somehow, Liza manages to be both cute and dark, which is quite a feat of filmmaking on Mészáros’s part. It is a wildly inventive film, but the style never overwhelms the characters or narrative. Very highly recommended, Liza, the Fox-Fairy screens this coming Thursday (12/17) as part of the AFI’s EU Film Showcase.

AFI’s EU Showcase ’15: Tale of Tales

Neapolitan poet Giambattista Basile’s fairy tale collection predated Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm, but despite their subtitle, “Entertainment for Little Ones,” they are considered idiosyncratically macabre and even a little NSFW. Of course, those are both rather cinematic qualities. Matteo Garrone duly emphasizes the strange and baroque in Tale of Tales (trailer here), his English language adaptation of a trio of intertwined Basile fables, which screens as part of the AFI’s 2015 EU Film Showcase.

Three neighboring kingdoms largely coexist quite peacefully, because their respective monarchs are so self-absorbed with their own issues. Thanks to the help of a necromancer, the Queen of Longtrellis magically conceives the son she always desired, at the mere cost of her indulgent husband (and basically her soul). However, Prince Elias never adequately returns her codependent love. Instead, he prefers to spend time with the commoner Jonah, who is his exact spitting image.

The King of Highmountain is equally problematic in the completely opposite way. He ignores his antsy-to-be-married daughter, Princess Violet, preferring to obsess over his abnormally large trained flea. When he finally makes a show of arranging a contest for her hand, he inadvertently grants her hand to an ogre.

Meanwhile, the horndog King of Strongcliff has fallen in lust with the voice of the peasant Dora. However, he does not realize she is one of two old crone sisters living hand-to-mouth in a cottage on his estate. Feigning coyness, Dora manages to hold off the King until she can come to him under the dark of night. Complications ensue.

If you haven’t realized yet, there is sex in these fairy tales. There are also flashes of violence that are shocking in the moment, but not at all gratuitous. Be that as it may, it is easy to see why the archetypal source material has been largely passed over by animators and children’s publishers. Tale of Tales still seems likely an unlikely direction for an ultra-realist like Garrone, but he reportedly claims all his films have a kinship with fairy tales. You can sort of see that in a morality tale like Reality, but it is less apparent in the thinly fictionalized social expose, Gomorrah.

Regardless, there is a lot of cool stuff in Tale, including Toby Jones talking to a giant flea and Salma Hayek eating a dragon’s heart. There are also tightrope walkers, damsels in distress, damsels causing distress, shapeshifters, and Shakespearean confusion with twins. Garrone and editor Marco Spoletini shrewdly time the shifts between narrative strands, maintaining a nice up-tempo pace. Alexandre Desplat also contributes a very Desplat-sounding score (classy, but not particularly distinctive). However, production designer Dimitri Capuani and the battery of art directors creates a richly detailed fantasy world that is both lovely and sinister.

Tale of Tales could be considered The Princess Bride’s evil twin, making it exactly the sort of fairy tale movie we have needed. It is much more fun than Catherine Breillart’s fairy tale films and more subversive than Snow White and the Huntsman. Recommended for fans of dark fantasy, Tale of Tales screens this Saturday (12/12) as part of the AFI’s EU Film Showcase.

The Piper: Hamelin in Post-War Korea

This might just be the dark fantasy pest control film we have all been waiting for. Woo-ryong is an itinerant musician who gets side-tracked in a suspicious village with a pronounced rat infestation problem. If you are picking up shades of Hamelin, hold that thought. Kim Gwang-tae will make good on them with his feature debut, The Piper (trailer here), which opens this Friday in Los Angeles.

Soon after the Korean War armistice, Woo-ryong sets out with his son Young-nam on a cross-country trek to Seoul, where the U.S. Army hospital will treat his ailing lungs. Unfortunately, they stumble across a formerly hidden hamlet tightly controlled by their village headman. It is the sort of tightly knit community that could easily hold an annual stoning lottery. In exchange for food and a night’s lodging, the civic strongman makes Woo-ryong promise to keep the end of the war secret. He agrees, even though it gives him bad vibes.

Still, he cannot help noticing the village has rat issues. Evidently, they started showing up one fateful night. Nobody will talk about it, but it must have been pretty bad. However, Woo-ryong can do something about the here-and-now. All manner of beasts respond to his pipe. Unfortunately, when Mi-sook, the newly revealed village shaman develops feelings for Woo-ryong and Young-nam, the headman considers them threats to his well-structured order and starts plotting against them accordingly.

Piper goes to some murky, sinister places. Let’s just say it is not kidding around about its Hamelin references. When it comes time for payback, things get downright Biblical. Not to be spoilery, but viewers who are afraid of rats will be profoundly creeped out by the third act. In all honesty, The Piper wears its archetypes so conspicuously on its sleeve, we largely know where it is going after about twenty minutes. Yet, Kim’s execution is so tight and taut, he keeps the audience focused-in and perched on their seat’s edge nonetheless.

Although he frequently plays heavies, Ryoo Seung-ryong’s haggard everyman look and intense aura of pathos are perfect for Woo-ryong. Young Goo Seung-hyun also deserves tons of credit for his convincing work as the bespectacled Young-nam, belying his precious appearance. Portraying a master manipulator beyond his years, Lee Sung-min’s headman supplies the film’s dark, malicious heart. It is a great piece of big screen villainy. Chun Woo-hee’s slow burning presence also grabs eyeballs, but her character, Mi-sook, is not adequately established.

The Piper taps into some deep primal themes, reaching back to Medieval Saxony while evoking the dysfunctional dynamics of charismatic leaders and their cult-like followers. It is a remarkably well-put-together production that might just be the “feel bad” film of the summer. Recommended rather highly for those who enjoy dark, slightly fantastical thrillers, The Piper opens this Friday (7/24) in Los Angeles, at the CGV Cinemas.

Five Years of GKIDS: Tales of the Night

It is rather ironic 3D films often feature one-dimensional characters.  In contrast, the figures of Michel Ocelot’s Dragons et princesses series are 2D, rendered through a particularly stylish form silhouette animation.  In a literal instance where “television is the new cinema,” six of the shorts produced for Canal+Family were aggregated into the 3D film, Tales of the Night (trailer here), which screens during the IFC Center’s retrospective tribute to GKIDS.

The old man used to work in movies, until he was forced to retire, while the boy and the girl are too young for the business to take notice of them.  Yet, every night they gather at a shuttered revival cinema to brainstorm ambitious films they would eventually like to make. All three share similarly romantic tastes, often staging fairy tales that offer the boy an opportunity for heroics and the girl a justification for some elaborate costumes and hairstyles.  Even the old man finds inspiration in these fables, finding the perfect locations online.

Shrewdly, Night begins and ends with two of its strongest tales, both of which happen to be set in Medieval Europe.  “The Werewolf” is obviously a story of lycanthropy, but it is more concerned with the rivalry of two princesses than gothic horror.  Easily the weakest link, the Caribbean tale of “Tijean and Belle-Sans-Connatre” probably should have been buried somewhere later in the line-up than the second spot.  The story of the adventurer, the three monsters he encounters, and a princess’s prospective hand in marriage features some problematic attempts at dialect, while sharing many elements with subsequent tales.

The movie lovers rebound considerably with “The Chosen One and the City of Gold.” An Aztec-flavored parable in which a stranger fights to save the beautiful woman selected as a human sacrifice, it is arguably the most thematically sophisticated of Night’s component films.  With “The Boy Tam-Tam,” Ocelot returns to the African settings of films like Azur & Asmar, which largely established his reputation in America.  It is a nice enough coming-of-age fable that gets a good kick from the percussive music.

Each of the roughly twelve minute installments is perfectly suitable for children, but the Tibet-set “The Boy Who Never Lies” is by far the most tragic, but that also helps differentiate it from the other tales (along with the striking Himalayan backdrops). Concluding with “The Doe-Girl and the Architect’s Son,” Ocelot’s would-be filmmakers revisit both Medieval Europe and true love complicated by shape-shifting for a suitably ever-after conclusion.

The influence of Lotte Reiniger’s The Adventures of Prince Achmed is pretty clear throughout Night, both in terms of its silhouette animation and its exoticism.  Frankly, each tale probably works better as a stand-alone short, as they were originally intended. Strictly speaking, there is not a lot of character development in any of Night’s constituent pieces, but it is all quite elegant looking.  There is also an appealing idealism at work in the film, celebrating the transformative power of cinema and storytelling, like an animated merger of Cinema Paradiso and the Arabian Nights. Enjoyably different for animation fans, Tales of the Night screens in 3D screens New Years Day as part of the IFC Center’s GKIDS series, perfectly timed for the holidays (and also streams in 2D on Netflix).

Blancanieves: Snow White in the Bull Ring

If often seems like the Academy’s rules for the best foreign language category are obscure and arbitrarily applied.  Frankly, the only language spoken in Spain’s official submission is body language.  Yet, Pablo Berger’s silent film qualified.  In fairness, it is about as Spanish as it gets, earning eighteen Goya nominations for combining the Snow White fairy tale with the rich tradition of bullfighting.  Unfortunately, Blancanieves (trailer here) will not repeat The Artist’s Oscar success, failing to even reach the foreign language shortlist.  However, it should still find considerable arthouse love when it opens this Friday in New York.

Antonio Villalta was a great matador, but one day he faced one bull too many.  As the paralyzed Villalta lies upon the operating table, his beloved sadly dies in child birth.  Recognizing a ticket to the easy life, the cold, calculating nurse Encarna sets her sites on the weakened widower.  Yes, you could say she is an evil stepmother to young Carmen.  Initially raised by her grandmother, Carmen is forced to become a servant on the Villalta estate after the kindly old woman’s death.  Though forbidden to see her father, she starts paying furtive visits to the equally miserable Villalta.  Even confined to his wheelchair, Villalta teaches her everything about the family business.  It will be a useful skill when things come to a head with Encarna.

Suffering from amnesia, Carmen falls in with an itinerant company of diminutive novelty bullfighters.  When her innate talent and extensive training are revealed, the troupe is quickly redubbed “Blancanieves and the Seven Dwarfs.”  They seem to be one dwarf short, but they are never sticklers for details in Spain.  Obviously, the act is a hit, which perturbs Encarna and you know what that means.

Blancanieves is the third Snow White adaptation in about a year’s time and by far the best.  Yet, it will draw far more comparisons to Michel Hazanavicius’s Artist than Kristen Stewart’s home-wrecking Huntsman.  Without question, Berger is a much richer visual stylist than the Oscar winning director.  On the other hand Hazanavicius’s elegantly light touch, flair for physical comedy, and old fashioned romanticism are ultimately a tad more satisfying.  Nonetheless, Berger frames some stunningly expressionistic tableaux and his transitions are a show unto themselves.  However, he embraces all of the tragic heaviness of the Brothers Grimm and almost none of their macabre fantasy.

The cast is also quite strong (but again The Artist’s ensemble would narrowly take the honors in a face-off).  Daniel Giménez Cacho’s work as Villalta is particularly poignant and the dwarfs stand head-and-shoulders above their more famous counterparts in Huntsman.  Sofía Oria is also quite touching as young Carmen (while Macarena García’s older incarnation is somewhat less so).

Watching Blancanieves one is struck by the painstaking composition of each shot and the care taken to perfectly match every note of Alfonso de Vilallonga’s score (featuring both sweeping orchestral pieces and some infectious flamenco-inspired songs).  Furthermore, the lack of award season recognition for Kiko de la Rica’s gorgeous black-and-white cinematography is nothing less than a crime.  A work of true cinematic artistry, Blancanieves is recommended for all real movie lovers when it opens this Friday (1/25) in New York.

Not Quite the Fairest: Snow White and the Huntsman

These dwarves do not whistle while they work.  They are not so hot when it comes to comic relief in general, but they are still devoted to a certain princess, as is most of their fairy tale realm.  That is why she is such a threat to the despotic Queen Ravenna, her wicked stepmother. Straying from familiar Disney territory, the latest live action adaptation of the Brothers Grimm fairy tale takes on overtones of Joan of Arc as the protagonist rallies the troops in Rupert Sanders’ Snow White and the Huntsman (trailer here), which opens today nationwide.

King Magnus, Snow White’s widower father chose the wrong second wife.  He does not even make it to the honeymoon.  The narcissistic Ravenna’s reign is harsh, even depressing the natural environment around her imposingly cinematic castle.  However, she gets a rather unwelcomed surprise from her magic mirror when Snow White comes of age.  She is no longer the fairest of them all.  The prisoner of the North Tower is.  Thanks to the help of sundry beasts and birds, Snow White escapes her captivity, only to find herself in the supernaturally ominous Dark Forest.

Wanting Snow White’s purity for uncanny purposes, the Queen sends in Eric, a drunkard huntsman who happens to be one of the few mortals to venture through the forest and live to tell the tale.  Fortunately, the Huntsman does not take direction well.  As a result, he will have to contend with her loyal Game of Thrones-ish brother, his armored forces, and a fair number of monsters.  A small band of short eccentrics might be able to help them.  There is also some business with an apple.

This is Snow White, done kind of-sort of faithfully.  However, it spends far too much time aimlessly trudging about the Dark Forest.  Frankly, the film really starts to take off when it diverges from Grimm, becoming an old fashioned fight-for-freedom epic.  Indeed, it is refreshing to see a less passive Snow White, leading the resistance into battle like its St. Crispin’s Day.

In fact, Kristen Stewart rather exceeds expectations balancing vulnerability and a suitably regal presence as Snow White.  Chris “Thor” Hemsworth might not be venturing too far out of his comfort zone here, but he swings the battle axe as well as the war hammer.  Though played by great (full sized) actors like Ian McShane, Ray Winstone, Bob Hoskins, and Eddie Marsan, the dwarves just look weird.  They are not funny, but they are still rather shticky.  However, it is Charlize Theron who really puts a stamp on the picture, vamping it up and chewing the scenery with sheer evil delight as Ravenna, while her apparent age yo-yo’s up and down (getting a crucial assist from the crack team of make-up artists).

Graduating from commercials to big special effect-laden features, Sanders creates a richly detailed fantasy world, particularly the striking castle, in both interior and exterior shots.  However, one has to wonder just who is the intended audience for a dark brooding version of Snow White, served with a reasonable helping of hack and slash action.  In fact, those looking for happily-ever-after romance might find the film leaves them cold, while the laughably clunky dialogue is not likely to do much for anyone.

Snow White and the Huntsman is an odd assortment mismatched parts, but some of those pieces are admittedly entertaining.  Ironically, it would not be a good date movie because those who are reluctantly dragged into it might find it more enjoyable than expected, whereas their dates will likely be disappointed by it.  A mixed bag best saved for post-theatrical viewing options, it opens nationwide today (6/1), including the AMC 34^th Street and AMC Kips Bay in New York.

NYICFF ’12: Cinderella Moon

So many little Chinese girls could have used a fairy god-mother. Young Mei Mei only has an ancient matchmaker to counter-balance her rotten step- mother. Though not magical, the old woman certainly has ambitious plans for her. Based on the Chinese legend of Ye Xian that predates Perrault’s Cinderella by about 800 years, Richard Bowen’s Chinese-produced English-dubbed Cinderella Moon has obvious relevance for China today, but should still charm little girls of any cultural background when it screens at the 2012 New York International Film Festival.

Little Mei Mei is a gifted potter, like her mother, her father’s younger second wife. When Mei Mei’s mother dies in child birth and her spiritually ailing father soon follows, she finds herself the de facto servant of her cruel step-mother and idiot step-sister. However, she takes comfort from her mother’s legacy: a pair of bejeweled gold-fish slippers and the promise of a special destiny.

Mei Mei hopes to follow in her mother’s footsteps, finding a love match by dancing in the village festival. Unfortunately, the moon is stuck in the sky, putting life on hold for the kingdom. It also puts pressure on the young defiant king, who is responsible for keeping the heavens in equilibrium.

Moon is surprisingly rich in archetypes, mixing Fisher King mythology with universal Cinderella motifs. In fact, the celestial themes raise the stakes of the story considerably. However, the core of the film involves Mei Mei’s struggle to find her place in world that essentially treats girls like chattel. Indeed, the parallels with One-Child China, where girls are all too frequently the victim of abandonment and sex-selection abortions, are difficult to overlook. Young Mei Mei is sweet tempered and vulnerable, but to her credit, she refuses to accept the chauvinism around her.

Thanks to the two highly expressive Mei Mei’s, Xiao Min at age fifteen and Yang Zhicheng at five, viewers will feel a strong emotional connection to the young protagonist. Under Bowen’s sensitive direction, they convey a sense of wonder perfectly suited to a fairy tale. Bowen and cinematographer Wang Yu also capture some breathtaking vistas shot on location in the Southwest Yunnan province.

Moon is a finely crafted period production, featuring some striking costumes designed by Laurence Xu. However, the disembodied-sounding dubbed voices will grate on the ears of cineastes. Still, it might be a necessary trade-off for the film to reach audiences of a certain age.

Of course, it is more important for Moon to reach Chinese audiences. Admirably, it is a mission Bowen takes seriously, having cofounded with his wife Jenny the Half the Sky Foundation, which provides support to Chinese orphans (mostly but not entirely girls like Mei Mei). Deeper and richer than most fairy tale films, Moon is highly recommended (for boys too) at this year’s NYICFF. It screens this Saturday (3/3) at Cantor, Saturday the 17th at the Asia Society, and Sunday the 25th at the IFC Center.

The Fairy: Physical Comedy as High Art

A lot of immigrants come to France through the port city of Le Havre, some legally documented, but many more not. Of course, such laws can hardly apply to the Fae like Fiona. She has supposedly come to grant a sad sack hotel night clerk three wishes, but falls in love during the process in the gentle but burst out loud funny comedy fable The Fairy (trailer here), written and directed by the multi-hyphenated Belgian trio of Dominique Abel, Fiona Gordon, and Bruno Romy, opening this Friday in New York.

If Fiona really is a fairy, her magical skills need sharpening. There is no denying her resourcefulness though. When she offers poor put-upon Dom the proverbial three wishes, she actually delivers on the first two. While a third wish does not immediately leap to mind, Fiona assures him he can take his time thinking about it. She is in no hurry to be on her way. Nor is he anxious to see her leave. Unfortunately, just as their idiosyncratic romance blossoms, events intervene. Much like Aki Kaurismäki’s Le Havre, Dom will find himself tangled up with a group of North African illegals as he attempts to bust Fiona out of the mental ward.

Everyone likens Abel, Gordon and Romy to Jacques Tati and in truth, it is a rather apt comparison. Rubber boned and rubber faced, Abel and Gordon have a flair for dramatic contortions and outrageous situations. While Romy fills a relatively small supporting role in this outing, he has some genuinely inspired bits of business as a nearly blind barkeep.

The Fairy is so consistently inventive and gleefully eccentric, it never feels cute or cloying. Like Kaurismäki’s port city tale, Abel, Gordon, and Romy address contemporary issues with the lightest of touches. Rather than a contemporary polemic, it comes across like a paean to underdogs, whoever they might be.

Despite the Potemkin-esque climax, there is nothing heavy about The Fairy. Bright and airy with a pastel color palette, it is clean and refreshing entertainment. Indeed, the filmmaking trio demonstrates physical comedy can be a form of high art. Warmly recommended, it opens this Friday (2/24) in New York at the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center uptown and the Quad Cinema downtown.

Breillat’s The Sleeping Beauty

She might have been cast asleep for one hundred years, but it turns out Sleeping Beauty had an active dream life. Although French director Catherine Breillat took far more liberties with Charles Perrault’s Briar Rose fairy tale than her previous adaptation of Bluebeard, the Brothers Grimm would surely approve of her dark fantastical variations so strangely rendered in The Sleeping Beauty, her take on the familiar fable, which opens this Friday in New York at the IFC Center.

The time is indeterminate, but it may be somewhat more modern than the fairy tale’s vaguely medieval traditional setting. There are still bad witches and good fairies though. As per Perrault, Grimm, and Disney, a bitter old crone curses the newborn Anastasia to die on her sixteenth birthday from a fatal spindle prick. However, a trio of good fairies (who happen to be suggestively nymph-like in this version) partially counteract the spell, commuting the death sentence to a century long slumber.

From here, Breillat lights out into fresh territory, while still heavily borrowing archetypes from across the fairy tale canon. Anastasia will come of age as she sleeps, aging ten years in one hundred. She will also be a conscious dreamer, actively participating in the lives of those she meets. Ironically, the little princess almost immediately finds happiness when adopted into the rustic home of a single mother and her adolescent son, Peter. However, puberty turns Peter surly. It produces other urges as well, leading her adopted brother to run away from home with the mysterious Snow Queen.

As Anastasia sets out into her subconscious dreamscape in search of Peter, Beauty segues into a quest fantasy. Yet, arguably its closest cinematic comparison would be Sally Potter’s Orlando in which characters morph and evolve as they mystically reappear over the ages, tied together by destiny.

Though Breillat maintains a fable-like atmosphere throughout Beauty, it is not intended for children. Anastasia most definitely grows up, which is a fortunate thing in this film. Carla Besnainou is game enough for what must have been a bewildering production for a youngster, but she is not exactly an electrically engaging child actor. To be fair, Breillat almost uses her as a prop to be carried away by the sweep of her story. However, as Anastasia come of age, Julia Artamonov has the appropriate precocious allure for a Breillat film. In fact, Beauty’s supporting cast all look spot-on for the genre, including Rosine Favey’s evil witch, who could have just walked out of a Hammer horror film, as well as Camille Chalons, Dovnia Sichov, and Leslie Lipkins as the decorative fairies.

While Breillat’s Bluebeard was all about the telling of the tale, Beauty is more concerned about what happens when spells or broken, whether it be childhood or a fairy tale enchantment. Yet, Beauty keeps viewers more at an emotional distance than its uxoricidal predecessor. A surprisingly challenging film, with a uniquely disconcerting charm, Beauty is certainly recommended (and Breillat’s fairy tale project in general is well worth keeping up with). It opens this Friday (7/8) in New York at the IFC Center.

Breillat’s Bluebeard

He introduced the world to the dark side of fairy tale romance. Charles Perrault’s notorious French nobleman was married several times, but never achieved a “happily ever after” ending. Still, he is fabulously wealthy, so one young girl gives him another chance in Bluebeard (trailer here), Catherine Breillat’s take on the 1697 fairy tale, which opens this Friday in New York.

After the tragic death of their father, sisters Marie-Catharine and Anne are forced to leave their Catholic boarding school, returning to their middle class hovel with few prospects. However, the local lord is looking for a new wife, since he keeps misplacing the old ones. Everyone knows he is bad news, but he is also rich and powerful, so there is nothing to be done. Yet, he seems sad and sympathetic to Marie-Catherine, the younger, more impulsive sister, so she willingly consents. Of course, we know where this story goes, as do Catherine and Marie-Anne, two even younger sisters scarring themselves with the Bluebeard fairy tale in the film’s narrative framing device.

Though Breillat has a reputation as a feminist provocateur, it seems like the most overtly feminist aspect of her Bluebeard comes in her choice of source material. Yes, the lord is a manipulative, homicidal monster of a husband. He’s Bluebeard, after all. However, Breillat humanizes him to a surprising extent.

The contrast between the very young looking Lola Créton as Marie-Catherine and the hulking Dominique Thomas as the much older Bluebeard is deliberately creepy. Yet, far from a shrinking violet, the young wife initially appears to hold the upper hand, insisting on separate sleeping quarters until she reaches an appropriate age. In fact, the scenes of the courtship and their early days of marriage are played with surprising sensitivity. Indeed, these sequences really distinguish Breillat’s Bluebeard from the many prior film adaptations of the Perrault fairy tale. Still, we know where the film must be heading.

Or perhaps not. Breillat has a strange narrative boom to lower that would seem like a cheat if she had not so deftly established it in earlier scenes. While it might not make her Bluebeard a popular crowd pleaser, it is masterfully effective filmmaking. If nothing else, it is definitely memorable.

Though the trappings of the grotesque nobleman are outwardly sumptuous, Breillat keeps the eerie fable atmosphere cold and dark. Unfortunately, the film’s initial scenes traffic in some tired stereotypes of predictably callous and intolerant Catholic nuns. Ultimately though, Breillat offers a fresh and intriguing reinterpretation of the Bluebeard legend, aided by its small but very strong cast. It opens this Friday (3/26) at the IFC Film Center.