Ferrara at AFA: Mary

Abel Ferrara’s Passion of the Christ? Lord, have mercy. Actually, those prayers were partly heeded, if not fully answered. Despite his delicate subject matter and a proven willingness to offend, Ferrara’s Mary (trailer here) is nothing like the outrage one might expect. Perhaps that is why there has been so little theatrical love for the film, even with its Venice and Toronto festival credentials. Fittingly, it screens tonight as part of the Anthology Film Archives’ Abel Ferrara in the 21st Century retrospective of the director’s recent unreleased or under-distributed films.

Juliette Binoche plays actress Marie Palesi playing Mary Magdalene in risky new cinematic life of Jesus directed by and starring the self-absorbed actor Tony Childress. However, when production wraps, Palesi refuses to snap out of it. Since she already has a form of Jerusalem Syndrome, she sets off for Israel rather than returning to Hollywood.

Loving the sound of his own voice, Childress hits the publicity circuit hard on behalf of his film. He accepts an invitation to appear on Ted Younger’s television talk show, a Charlie Rose for liberal theologians and religious writers. Though he discusses faith every night, the TV host has lost his own, succumbing to a myriad of worldly temptations. Of course, this being an Abel Ferrara film, he is in for a long night of the soul.

Though there are potential warning signs all over the place, the ultimate implications of Mary are arguably not overtly hostile to Christian faith. In fact, Ferrara rather explicitly tackles themes of redemption and forgiveness. In a way, it is much like Bad Lieutenant without any of the creepy, disturbing parts.

Still, Ferrara hardly embraces Evangelical Christianity here. There are frequent references to the knuckle-dragging rabble protesting Younger’s film, though Ferrara often seems to conflate the very different controversies surrounding Scorsese’s The Last Temptation of Christ and Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. There is also a fair amount of speculation about Mary Magdalene’s role as a privileged disciple supposedly covered up by the sexist early Church. Frankly, this might have seemed bold a few years ago, but after scores of Da Vinci Code inspired books and films, this seems like pretty ho-hum stuff today.

Befitting Ferrara’s style, Forest Whitaker’s work as Younger is emotionally raw and in-your-face immediate. It is a shoot-the-moon turn he thankfully pulls off. Also, his no-holds-barred on-camera take-down of Chisholm is just really good cinema. Binoche is perfectly cast as the Palesi, the ethereal paragon of awakened spirituality. Refreshingly, she conveys a sense of dignity through faith, never portraying the actress as a religious nut. Though often associated with wishy-washy parts, Matthew Modine actually does arrogant creeps like Chisholm rather well, entertainingly repeating his Freddy Ace shtick from Alan Rudolph’s Equinox here.

There is nothing shy about Ferrara’s go-for-the-throat approach to Mary, but cinematographer Stefano Falivene gives it a shockingly polished look. However, Francis Kuiper’s overly portentous score is somewhat counterproductive at times. It might be self-contradictory and messy, but Mary is probably ten times better than anticipated. For bold souls and curious heathens, it screens tonight (1/7), January the 11th and the 17th at Anthology Film Archives as part of its focus on the director’s largely undistributed recent films.

Ferrara at AFA: Chelsea on the Rocks

Last year saw the passing of the great Dennis Hopper, a true Hollywood icon and maverick. Not surprisingly, he was also once a resident of the (in)famous Chelsea Hotel, along with the likes of Jack Kerouac, Dylan Thomas, Sid Vicious, and Arthur C. Clarke. Controversial director Abel Ferrara also lived at the Chelsea while filming Chelsea on the Rocks (trailer here), a documentary about the venerable Manhattan landmark, which screens during the Anthology Film Archives’ Abel Ferrara in the 21st Century retrospective of the director’s recent unreleased or under-distributed films.

The Chelsea started out as a conventional upscale hotel, which is how the new management intends to operate it now. However, during its heyday under Stanley Bard’s laissez-faire supervision, the Chelsea became a magnet for the artistically inclined, including both the celebrated and the anonymous alike. Bard was famously indulgent about collecting rent, and illegal activity, like drug dealing and prostitution, was reportedly widespread. As a result, it became a congenial home for Beatnik poets, hippie rock stars, and members of the Warhol Factory. For the soon-to-be former residents Ferrara interviews, these were indeed the “good old days.”

As an interviewer, Ferrara is absolutely awful in Rocks. Often sounding completely out of it (as usual), he has a habit of mishearing something a subject says and then fixating on it, taking the discussion in a random direction his interlocutor never intended. However, in his defense, the Chelsea denizens seem comfortable opening up to the filmmaker as a both fellow resident and eccentric, relating to him some fittingly strange anecdotes.

Almost in spite of himself, Ferrara effectively captures a sense of what the Chelsea was like during the height of its notoriety. He elicits some very amusing commentary from many well known former residents, including Miloš Forman and a surprisingly funny Ethan Hawke. Unfortunately, his brief dramatic recreations of infamous episodes in Chelsea history, including the death of Vicious’ girlfriend Nancy Spungen, are ill-conceived (often approaching outright cheese), despite the participation of talented actors like Giancarlo Esposito.

Ultimately, Rocks is strongest when Ferrara simply revels in the Chelsea’s bohemian spirit. It might be raggedly uneven, but for a documentary about an institution as unconventional as the Chelsea Hotel, directed by an idiosyncratic filmmaker like Ferrara, Rocks is surprisingly cohesive and entertaining. A likable exercise in hipster nostalgia, it screens January 10th, 14th, and 18th at the Anthology.

Ferrara at AFA: Napoli Napoli Napoli

It was the seat of its own Renaissance-era kingdom and a cultural center of the Roman Empire. Yet, amid a country of former city-states, Naples has been largely left behind. Abel Ferrara returned to his ancestral roots to witness how far the once glorious city has fallen in his hybrid documentary Napoli Napoli Napoli (trailer here), which screens this Saturday as part of Anthology Film Archives’ Abel Ferrara in the 21st Century series of the director’s recent unreleased or under-distributed films.

Collaborating with screenwriter-producer Gaetano Di Vaio, a former criminal turned filmmaker, Ferrara set out to interview some of the women and young men of the Pozzuoli prison, interspersing their traditional documentary footage with dramatic vignettes inspired by the convicts’ experiences. Certainly the most substantial would be Di Vaio’s story of two Camorra gangsters taking on a friend on a road trip to his eventual execution—an an episode reportedly based on his own life.

Frankly, thin would be a generous description for most of the original narrative sketches, and frankly they are not really necessary. Ferrara vividly captures of a sense of the squalid life on Naples mean streets and elicits more compelling testimony from his interview subjects. He shows an intuitive understanding of those profoundly unlucky to have been caught up in the Neopolitan web of drugs and vice. Though his interviewing skills in Chelsea on the Rocks often seem somewhat suspect, here he shows a knack for asking probing questions, simply and directly. In the case of a Nigerian immigrant lured into the drug trade, he asks how she feels about Italians. He also asks several young inmates if they have ever read a book. Of course, the 64,000 Euro question is whether they think the Camorra has been good or bad for the community.

Napoli 3 even has a hero or two, like the dedicated social worker and an elderly business man who refuses to pick up stakes and leave town. However, the film is not particularly sanguine about the region’s future. The local politicians certainly do not have any answers, though they do their best to point their fingers at the national government. Evidently, personal responsibility will not be starting with Naples’ elected leaders. Despite its odd combination of filmmaking strategies, it is a sobering look at a once great city’s decay that would be a good companion film to Matteo Garrone’s Gomorrah. It screens during AFA’s 21st Century Ferrara retrospective January 8th, 9th, 13th, 15th, and 16th.

Ferrara at AFA: Mulberry St.

Why hasn’t anyone signed up Abel Ferrara for a reality TV show? Just watch this clip of the indie cult filmmaker on the old Conan show to get a sense of what it could be like. Indeed, Ferrara presents himself as quite a character in his documentary Mulberry St., which screens this Saturday as part of Anthology Film Archives’ Abel Ferrara in the 21st Century series of the director’s recent unreleased or under-distributed films.

If you had not guessed, Ferrara is Italian. He was also a resident of Little Italy. In fact, many of the nabe’s old school residents turn up in his early films. In Mulberry, Ferrara turns the camera on himself and his neighbors as they gear up for the annual Feast of San Gennaro. Of course, it is not like it used to be the old-timers tell us. They blame Giuliani for booting out the mob and the after-hours gambling. Reform is a drag.

Watching Ferrara kvetch and reminisce about his first film (a grungy porno that ironically was probably his most widely distributed) would be enjoyable television, but as a feature film, it is a bit thin. Still, Ferrara’s cronies like Butchie the Hat certainly have their charm. The frequent impromptu business confabs with Ferrara and his manager (and frequent co-star) Frankie Cee also go a long way toward explaining why so many of his films have such spotty distribution. Yet, that same eccentric Ferrara is evidently able to talk his way onto Danny Aiello’s label with only a brief cell phone introduction from the clearly bemused actor-singer.

Like Chelsea on the Rocks and to an extent Go Go Tales, Mulberry is Ferrara’s ode to the New York of yore, glorious in its grunginess. However, he never makes an overwhelming case for the superiority of the good old days. At least he is bizarrely watchable trying.

Obviously, Ferrara is wired a bit differently. Given his peerless indie cred, the IFC Channel ought to have their cameras follow him around the festival circuit. Frankly, Mulberry should be the pilot, not a theatrical documentary. Surely entertaining for his friends, but nothing resembling a breakout-comeback-whatever, Mulberry screens during AFA’s 21st Century Ferrara retrospective January 8th, 9th, 12th, 15th, and 16th.

Ferrara at AFA: Go Go Tales

Indie auteurs are not always distribution friendly. Such has certainly been the case with Abel Ferrara. Still, it is a bit of a head-scratcher that a star-studded, accessibly goofy comedy that takes full advantage of its strip club setting never got more of a theatrical look. Anthology Film Archives addresses that oversight with Abel Ferrara in the 21st Century, a retrospective of the director’s recent unreleased and under-distributed films, anchored by the straight-up commercial Go Go Tales (not quite sfw trailer here), which begins its two week run of screenings this Friday.

Ruby seems like an unfortunate name for a strip club proprietor, but Ray Ruby has no time for historical ironies. He is busy going broke as a joke. Tourists just are not coming like they used to. Fortunately, he and his bookkeeper Jay have a responsible, proactive solution: playing the lotto. Of course, they have a system devised by some dodgy computer nerds in the local bodega. Yet, when their numbers come up, the born losers cannot recall where they stashed the ticket. Mad scrambling mayhem then ensues.

Naturally, Ruby’s Paradise is well stocked with colorful characters, including the hilariously foul-mouthed landlady Lillian Murray, who constantly threatens to evict them to make way for a Bed, Bath and Beyond, while draped over their bar. There is also plenty of flesh and jiggle, surely just to satisfy the demands of on-screen realism.

As Ruby, Willem Dafoe hams it up like Jim Carrey, but at least his energy never flags. Sylvia Miles is a profane joy as the acid-tongued Murray and Roy Dotrice brings a touch of crusty class as the impossibly Irish Jay. Italian horror diva Asia Argento is also well cast as eye candy with an edge. (Unfortunately, Asian action star Selena Khoo is somewhat under-utilized in this respect.) Although his gruff character is underwritten, Bob Hoskins still growls out some of the film’s best lines as the club’s greeter. The director’s fans will also be happy to see Ferrara regulars like Nicholas De Cegli and Frankie Cee on staff at the Paradise. Only Matthew Modine seems out of place as Ruby’s cash flush brother Johnnie.

Though filmed in Rome, production designer Frank DeCurtis nicely creates an environment of New York seediness. It is definitely a Ferrara milieu, but the filmmaker keeps things light rather than indulging in Bad Lieutenant style violence and law-of-the-jungle naturalism.

Frankly, with its Cannes credentials, Go Go has considerably more going for it than so many of the films that are inexplicably picked up by independent distributors. Though hardly perfect, if viewers can get past the sheer knuckleheadedness of its set-up, it is quite the entertaining naughty farce. Along with other films in the retrospective, like Chelsea on the Rocks, it is something of a valentine to old school, sleazy-in-the-right-way New York. Go Go screens at AFA at 7:00 every night of the Ferrara series, beginning this Friday (1/7).