Sundance ’14: Viktoria

She drinks Coca-Cola and uses a Statue of Liberty cigarette lighter. Obviously, Boryana’s heart is not in Bulgaria’s glorious effort to build Socialism. It is in Venice. Unfortunately, her unplanned pregnancy will stymie her secret immigration plans. It is one reason why a Cold War rages between mother and daughter in Maya Vitkova’s Viktoria, which screens at the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Life in late 1970’s Bulgaria is pretty depressed and dehumanized. Even a trip to the OBGYN is a humiliating experience, conducted in an examination room with windows open for any passerby to observe. Boryana previously used traditional methods to induce miscarriage (a lot of jumping and the like), but to no avail this time.

In addition to putting the nix on Venice, the infant Viktoria perversely becomes a propaganda tool for the state.  Not only was she born on Victory Day, she has no navel. Therefore, she is a portent of the new Socialist man of the future. No longer must women take time away from their labor for the sake of childbirth, because babies like Viktoria will surely be incubated outside their mothers.

When it comes to entitled little monsters, none can match a Communist princess. A personal favorite of Bulgarian Party secretary Todor Zhivkov, Viktoria is chauffeured to school each day, where she is given carte blanche to bully her teachers and peers alike. She even has a red phone connection direct to Zhivkov. Then one day in 1989, she becomes an ordinary kid, who nobody likes.

Despite the surreal interludes and mild magical realism, Viktoria conveys a vivid you-are-there sense of life under Communism. There is a ring of truth to it, precisely because of the absurdity. Young Viktoria’s special midriff make-up also looks quite realistic. However, the post-1989 narrative largely loses both its bite and its focus. It seems like it takes Vitkova forty minutes to never really figure out how to end it all.  Still, considering the running time is over two and a half hours, there is a good feature’s length of material that works.

While the third act might have problems, it is hardly the fault of Kalina Vitkova, who is hauntingly expressive as the twentysomething Viktoria.  Likewise, her younger sister Daria is a remarkable force as the imperious and then chastened grade school Viktoria. Yet, it is Irmena Chichikova’s Borynana who will really get under viewers’ skin, depicting a persona forced into itself by circumstances and a totalitarian state.

For the most part, the sexually frank Viktoria has the vibe of a more Spartan Unbearable Lightness of Being, with trippy flights of fantasy thrown in to convey the characters inner angst. Highly recommended, it is challenging film in terms of subject and style, but it is worth grappling with, especially its more consistent initial two hours. The first Bulgarian film selected by the Sundance Film Festival, Viktoria turned out to be a sleeper at Park City, so it is certain to have a long life ahead on the international festival circuit.

Sundance ’14: Cooties

Those who can’t do, teach. And those who can’t teach, teach at public schools. So then, what are the chances of a misfit Ft. Chicken Elementary summer school faculty surviving a juvenile mutant attack? Not great, but at least there will be plenty of gory humor in Jonathan Milott & Cary Murnion’s Cooties, which screened at the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Failed novelist Clint Hadson has moved back to his mother’s house in Fort Chicken and accepted a position teaching English at his old elementary school. To make matters more depressing, his old high school crush and her jealous gym teacher boy friend are also on the Ft. Chicken faculty. Hadson wants to be the cool teacher, who lets his students call him by his first name, but these kids are real hellions—and that is before contaminated chicken nuggets turn them into rampaging zombie death machines.

These little monsters like to bite and they are definitely contagious, but their viral brain rot only affects those who have not yet gone through puberty. In no time at all, the rabid kids have overrun the school. Hadson, his maladjusted colleagues, and a handful uninfected students hole-up, hoping help will come at 3:00, when parents start arriving to pick up their brood.

If you enjoy humor derived from splattered brains and guts then Cooties is in your power zone. Co-writers Ian Brennan and Leigh Whannel keep the shameless gags coming at a regular pace. However, the conspicuous narrative similarities between Cooties and Return to Nuke ‘Em High are distractingly awkward.  Cribbing Troma—get your head around that one.

Elijah Wood’s nebbish everyman shtick works well enough for Hadson and he delivers some amusing lines here and there (partly redeeming his role in the dour travesty of Maniac). Whannel probably gets the biggest laughs as the socially inept sex ed. teacher, but nobody tries harder than Rainn Wilson, unleashing his inner Will Farrell as the past-his-prime P.E. teacher.

Horror movie fans will chuckle at Cooties, but there is nothing here they have not seen before, even if they have not yet revisited Nuke ‘Em High. For epic gross-out humor, it cannot compete with its fellow midnight selection, Dead Snow: Red vs. Dead, but both were picked up for distribution, so they were both winners at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance Shorts: Rat Pack Rat & Pleasure

They are extreme professions, but you will not see reality shows about them on the History Channel. The E! Channel, maybe. Neither protagonist of will have a typical day at the office. One celebrity impersonator will also get stuck with his worst request ever in Todd Rohal’s Rat Pack Rat (the more highly recommended of the two), which screened at the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Dennis looks worn down and frail, but the Sammy Davis, Jr. impersonator can still turn on the Candyman for his Craigslist clients. This will be a tough one though. His command performance will be the birthday present for an adolescent Rat Pack fanatic wasting away from a terminal condition.

Helmed by The Catechism Cataclysm’s Rohal, Rat probably generated a lot of nervous laughter during its screenings from those expecting similar lunacy, but it is a distinctly sad and sober film. Eddie Rouse is fantastic as “Sammy,” conveying all his weariness and regret, while also evoking some of the pathos of the original Davis. It would be a fascinating film to see in dialogue with Armando Bo’s The Last Elvis, a previous Sundance selection that also explores how impersonators relate to their famous inspirations.

The protagonist of Ninja Thyberg’s Pleasure also works in show business, in a far more professional capacity. Right, she does blue movies (always a mainstay of festival programming). Initially, it is a typical workday for Marie, but there is buzz one of her colleague will shoot a maneuver that sounds like it would defy the laws of physics, but evidently happens from time to time.

Pleasure is sexually charged, but not sensual.  It analyzes the day-to-day details of her business with clinical detachment. Probably the most intriguing element of the film is her relationship with Samson, a co-worker who clearly has eyes for her, notwithstanding what they do all day, often together.  Yet, for Marie, he represents more of a Survivor style alliance. It is probably the only subtle aspect of the film, nicely turned by Jenny Hutton and Christian Brandin.

While neither film is what you might call fun, both create a distinctive vibe and Rat Pack Rat is strangely affecting.  Both should expect considerable play on the festival circuit, given Pleasure’s subject matter and Rohal’s cult reputation, following their screenings (as part of separate shorts programs) at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: Blue Ruin

It only takes one family to launch a feud. By the same token, an emotionally damaged drifter hopes it will only take one family member to end it. Revenge is indeed the gift that keeps on giving but never fully satisfies in Jeremy Saulnier’s Blue Ruin (trailer here), which screened at the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

After the murder of his parents, Dwight Evans’ psyche just disintegrated. In recent years, he has survived hand-to-mouth, often living uninvited in the homes of vacationing families, until they return. Then he resumes crashing in his beat up blue four door sedan. His anaesthetized existence is interrupted by a sympathetic police officer, who informs Evans the man who killed his parents is about to be released from parole.

Will Cleland is a member of the thuggish Cleland clan. Even though they own a successful limousine rental company, they are more comfortable with back hills living.  Vengeance is definitely the sort of thing they are better at, but Evans shadows Cleland from prison to his roadhouse celebration nonetheless. He is clearly an inexperienced killer, as we see firsthand when he confronts Cleland alone in the men’s room.  From there, one darned thing leads inexorably to another, generating a whole lot of angst and bodies, but also threatening to engulf Evans’ estranged sister and her family.

At its essence, Ruin is equally akin to classical tragedy and hillbilly exploitation films.  Saulnier’s execution is wickedly effective, showing all the awkwardness of killing and the messiness of the resulting aftermath. Frankly, some of the most inspired scenes in Ruin are the bits most films gloss over. Yet, the tension never flags, notwithstanding the occasional punctuations of gruesome humor.

As Evans, co-executive producer Macon Blair is one of the most intense sad sacks you will ever see on screen. He is a palpably haunted presence, but shows flashes of inspiration, making it impossible not to root for him, despite his alarming tendency to make mistakes. He commands the film, but Devin Ratray adds some welcome attitude and general humanity as Evans’ well armed high school friend, Ben Gaffney. Eve Plumb (a.k.a. Jan Brady) is also all kinds of fierce as the ruthless Kris Cleland, thereby guaranteeing Ruin a sizable cult following.

They won’t be disappointed either. Blue Ruin is a taut and evocative thriller that utilizes its southern gothic violence for comedic and elegiac purposes. It is a cooker, recommended for anyone who enjoys payback cinema. With a theatrical and VOD release coming from Radius-TWC, Blue Ruin will also screen at the SF Indie Fest on February 16^th & 20^th, following its Spotlight selection at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: The Notorious Mr. Bout

He was the world’s best known arms dealer, who shot more selfie footage of himself in the wrong places at the wrong times than a punky skateboarding graffiti vandal. That was not the best strategy for minimizing circumstantial evidence, but it left a wealth of primary source material for Tony Gerber & Maxim Pozdorovkin’s documentary, The Notorious Mr. Bout, which screened at the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Viktor Bout could be the model of the self-made oligarch in the age of Putin. It has been established that Bout served in the Soviet military in some capacity, but the exact details remain murky. Thought to have been active in Angolan operations, Bout set up shop after his early 1990’s discharge, focusing his “shipping” business in failed African states like the Central African Republic and ambiguously regulated fiefdoms throughout the Middle East.  Eventually dubbed “The Merchant of Death” by the media, Bout inspired the Nic Cage film Lord of War, guaranteeing him bad karma for his next life.

When Notorious follows Bout’s trail from one global hotspot to another, it is absolutely fascinating stuff.  However, the film sort of suffers from an odd split personality disorder. The first half meticulously pieces together the shady elements of his business, including his attempts to cultivate Congolese warlord turned politician Jean-Pierre Bemba, who is now facing war crime charges in The Hague. Yet, the third act largely paints him as a victim of a DEA entrapment. Frankly, that is a much more compelling argument in sex or drug cases that target human frailty than conspiring to sell arms to the Colombian FARC terrorists.

It is rather odd to see Notorious openly appeal the Russian persecution complex so assiduously stoked by Putin, considering Pozdorovkin also co-directed the uncompromising human rights expose, Pussy Riot: a Punk Prayer (which played at last year's Sundance). Most viewers will probably leave baffled by the film’s contradictory pieces. At the very least, the inconsistent tone reflects dubious editing choices. The story is compelling, but the conclusions drawn are hard to reconcile with the material that came before it.  Interesting but ultimately frustrating, The Notorious Mr. Bout is sure to draw further attention on the festival circuit, but it might want to go back to the editing bay for a few tweaks after screening at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: Calvary

Whenever we see a picturesque Irish village with a curmudgeonly priest we are conditioned to automatically think quaint little comedy—the kind in which old people might get naked. This will be a much darker affair.  Reuniting with Brendan Gleeson, The Guard helmer John Michael McDonagh offers a sober meditation on faith, sacrifice, and forgiveness in Calvary, which screens today as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Father James was called to the priesthood late in life, after his divorce. Considered a good man by those who know him, he is completely innocent of the church’s abuse scandals.  Yet, that is precisely why a grown victim announces in confessional his intention to kill the upstanding father.  Murdering a compromised priest simply would not have the same jarring effect as killing Lavelle. With the one week deadline looming, Lavelle sets out to find the disturbed parishioner amongst his shockingly jaded flock.

Perhaps fortuitously, Father James will also have to deal with his twentysomething daughter, who has come to recuperate from another suicide attempt. They will have some unusually serious and heartfelt discussions throughout the course of the film, even though Father James never reveals the death threat hanging over his head. However, McDonagh does not use the confessional seal as a thriller device. Since the mystery man never asks for absolution, Father James is free to seek the counsel of his bishop and the local dodgy police inspector.  Yet, for various reasons, Father James is determined to handle the matter personally.

Given the title and the clock ticking down to Sunday, the symbolism of Calvary is almost crushing at times.  Nonetheless, its exploration of religious conviction is exceptionally mature and thoughtful.  Father James is a good man, but hardly a saint.  In contrast, the village is almost shockingly contemptuous of his relative virtue. If the Church’s problematic response to the notorious rash of abuse scandals is the lighter fluid that ignites Calvary, the moral bankruptcy of the increasingly agnostic village is the kindling that keeps it ablaze.

Throughout the film, Brendan Gleeson is pretty much perfect as Father James, delivering gruff one-liners, while facing a series almost Biblical trials with palpable dignity and resolution.  It is a salty yet mostly understated turn that might represent a career pinnacle. Likewise, Kelly Reilly is absolutely devastating in her big scenes as his daughter.  They are backed up by a diverse supporting cast, including the likes of M. Emmet Walsh and Orla O’Rourke, who always convincingly look and act like members of the dysfunctional provincial community.

At the halfway point, Calvary seems rather overstuffed with subplots and side characters, yet nearly each and every one pays off for McDonagh. It might sound like an opportunist broadside launched at the church, but its depiction of the good priest is remarkable sympathetic and nuanced. In fact, McDonagh maintains a tone much more in keeping with Bresson’s Diary of a Country Priest or Jean-Pierre Melville’s Léon Morin, Priest than the churlish score-settling of Philomena. Highly recommended (especially to those most inclined to be suspicious of it), Calvary screens tonight (1/25) in Ogden as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: Life Itself

In 1994, Siskel & Ebert helped launch Hoop Dreams towards its Sundance success with an unprecedented early review that aired during the first weekend of the festival.  Twenty years later, Sundance regular Steve James returns again with a documentary tribute to his frequent champion, Roger Ebert. An affectionate profile produced with the cooperation of the Chicago Sun-Times critic during his final days, James’ Life Itself, which screens today as part of the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Taking its oddly uncinematic title from Ebert’s memoir, Life focuses on Ebert, but his longtime co-host Gene Siskel naturally figures significantly throughout the film. Frankly, many viewers may well feel like the two critics should have had equal billing, but perhaps Ebert finally got one over on Siskel in that respect.

As the editor of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign student newspaper, Ebert was not shy about expressing his left-of-center opinions. It would also help him fit in at the Sun-Times upon graduation.  Like many entry level journalists, Ebert started out doing utility infield work at the paper, such as death notices and crime reports.  When the movie critic resigned, he was assigned the beat rather off-handedly, because it was not considered a high profile gig.  Pre-Kael newspaper film criticism often used generic bylines to accommodate multiple anonymous contributors.  Of course, Ebert and his Pulitzer Prize for criticism would help change matters.

James devotes a fair amount of time to Ebert’s cub journalist years (which are reasonably interesting) and resolutely faces up to his naughty collaborations with sexploitation pioneer Russ Meyer (that are downright fascinating). He also intersperses the biographic business with footage of Ebert’s slow decline during the early months of 2013.

However, most viewers will be interested first and foremost in his years co-hosting movie review programs with Siskel. While James does not skimp on clips from the various incarnations of their show and prominently features the reminiscences of Siskel’s widow, their contentious partnership arguably could have been even higher in the mix. After all, it is through their television appearances that most viewers would have come to know Ebert.

In fact, it is a wistfully nostalgic experience watching them argue and dispense thumbs. Life indeed reminds us what a comfortable presence S&E were on our idiot boxes. The influence they exercised over movie-going tastes and preferences will probably never be replicated.

Granted, James handles the scenes of the failing Ebert with tremendous sympathy, but they threaten to overwhelm the celebration of his life with uncomfortable hospital scenes. We come to understand why Ebert wanted to be so forthcoming about his health, but all the details do not have to be on-screen.

If you are wondering, Ebert’s in/famous North review did not make the cut.  Maybe it will be on the DVD.  Regardless, it is rather nice to see a movie that considers film criticism a worthy endeavor. Recommended for those who can never get enough movie nostalgia, Life Itself screens again tonight (1/25) in Salt Lake, as this year’s Sundance Film Festival comes to a close.

Sundance ’14: Kumiko the Treasure Hunter

Something about the Minnesota accent must get lost when translated into Japanese, at least judging from one unhappy office worker’s strange obsession.  She is convinced the briefcase full of cash buried in final scenes of the Coen Brothers’ Fargo is really out there, waiting to be discovered. Her strange delusion will eventually take her to the fateful North Dakota border in the Zellner Brothers’ Kumiko the Treasure Hunter, which screens today at the Sundance Film Festival.

It is not clear whether Kumiko’s obsession has crowded out other aspects of her life or whether it has grown to fill the pre-existing void in her gloomy existence.  Regardless, her work as an “Office Lady” (fetching coffee and dry cleaning for her boss) remains profoundly unfulfilling. That she is conspicuously older than her bimbo colleagues is a fact not lost on her, either. Her only solace comes from her pet rabbit Bunzo and watching a well worn VHS copy of Fargo, constantly scribbling notes that only make sense to her

When Kumiko finally reaches her breaking point at work, she absconds with the corporate card and books a flight to Minneapolis.  This is not a well planned trip. Kumiko carefully collects all her Fargo material, but neglects to consider adequate winter gear. Yet, as she makes her way north, several locals will try to look out for her, as best they can. The wider world is not really such a cold place in Treasure. Kumiko just has trouble fitting into it. That forgiving spirit is one reason why it is such an oddly moving film.

With the right distributor behind her, Rinko Kikuchi might stand a chance of landing her second Oscar nomination for Kumiko. It is a quiet performance, but absolutely devastating in its power. She vividly projects the acute sensitivity and compulsive focus that make Kumiko more closely akin to outsider artists than routine nutters. David Zellner (the director and co-writer half of the Zellner filmmaking tandem) is also quite funny yet also rather touching, in an admirably understated way, as the sheriff’s deputy who tries to help Kumiko.  Bunzo is cute too.

It is too bad nobody from Fargo signed on for a cameo, because there is an obvious place where the Fellners could have put them. Evidently, when you land a hit HBO series, you quit caring about independent film.  Still, fans of the Coen Brothers’ film will appreciate all the references. Ironically, Alexander Payne recently signed on as an executive producer, just before he was nominated for Nebraska and the Coens were snubbed for Llewyn Davis (none of which he could control).

Whether or not it qualifies as a “co-production,” Treasure certainly represent extensive American and Japanese collaboration, shot entirely on location in either Tokyo or Fargo country. Surprisingly accomplished work from the Zellners, it has sweetly sad vibe that really distinguishes from the rest of the field. Recommended with considerable affection, Kumiko the Treasure Hunter screens again this morning (1/25) in Park City, as the 2014 Sundance Film Festival comes to a close.

Sundance ’14: Life After Beth

Teenagers and zombies both have bad skin and smell like feet.  However, the similarities end with the risen dead’s affinity for smooth jazz.  At least, that is how the zombie apocalypse rolls in Jeff Baena’s Life After Beth, which screens today during the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Zach Orfman was always inclined to be mopey, but the death of his out-of-his-league girlfriend Beth Slocum really has him down. He is especially anguished because their final awkward days of couplehood teetered on the brink of splitsville.  Seeking comfort in proximity, Orfman starts spending time with Slocum’s parents, Maury and Geenie, who also seem to take consolation from his presence.  Then one day they freeze him out and close off their entire house to the outside world.

Eventually, Orfman discovers they are harboring the “resurrected” Slocum, who has no memories of her fatal hiking misadventure.  The Slocums are determined to keep it that way.  They allow Orfman to renew their relationship, but insist he never tell her about her death or share the happy news with the rest of the world. It is all good for a few days, until certain changes start manifesting in Slocum. For instance, her skin is drier and her behavior is more aggressive. We also get hints she might not be the only zombie who came back.

Writer-director Baena dexterously keeps the zombie apocalypse lurking just outside our field of vision, focusing instead on the increasingly problematic relationship between Orfman and Slocum. He also stays true to the logical necessities of zombie movies in the redemptive third act climax.  However, the humor in After definitely leans toward the mild chuckle end of the spectrum.

Aubrey Plaza is the perfect choice for Slocum, jumping into the undead teenager angst and zombie gore with both feet.  In contrast, Dane DeHaan’s Orfman is a leaden presence, stuck on moody brooding throughout the film. He might be convincingly nebbish, but it is impossible to believe someone with this kind of dead fish charisma could attract the reasonably popular Slocum. While Paul Reiser (his second dad role in a Sundance film this year) and Cheryl Hines are largely wasted as Orfman’s parents, John C. Reilly’s shtick suits Maury Slocum rather well.

Life After Beth is pleasant enough, but it is quite like scores of previous teenager horror mash-ups thematically and stylistically. While it earns originality points down the stretch, Plaza and Reilly could have used some help carrying it to that point. Tightly executed but low in calories, Life After Beth will only serve as a light snack for genre fans when it screens today (1/24) in Park City, as a selection of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: All the Beautiful Things

A good conversation should be like jazz: a little call and response, plenty of riffing, and everyone gets a chance to make their solo statement.  Two estranged friends will try to talk out their complicated history amidst the soulful sounds of a jazz club in John Harkrider’s docu-hybrid-hybrid All the Beautiful Things (trailer here), which screens during the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Harkrider grew up on the wrong side of the tracks before making good as a Wall Street attorney and eventually segueing into the lucrative world of independent filmmaking.  His friend Barron Claibourne is a successful photographer who happens to be African American. Issues of race and class will haunt their discussion, particularly when it turns into an argument. 

It all revolves around a woman, but ironically neither man was particularly interested in her romantically.  Harkrider never had the desire or the opportunity to leave the friend zone. However, the woman in question had eyes for Claibourne and acted on her impulses. He did not really reciprocate her interest, but he slept with her anyway, thinking little of it.  Needless to say, things turned rather ugly, leaving Harkrider caught in the middle.

Presumably, whether you think Harkrider did right enough by Claibourne depends on which man you instinctively identify with.  Yet, the stunning African American bartender acting as a neutral referee seems to lean towards Harkrider’s side of things.  Of course, this could also be a function of gender identification, with respects to the unseen woman. While the inherent drama is obvious, it is highly debatable whether the legal events surrounding the Harkrider-Claibourne feud merit the feature documentary treatment. Nevertheless, the democratic ethos of jazz argues everyone deserves a chance to have their say.

Indeed, the better show is probably happening on the bandstand, where trumpeter Jeremy Pelt’s quartet will perform John Coltrane’s A Love Supreme in its entirety. It is an impressive interpretation that adds spiritual gravitas to the two friends’ bickering and bantering.

Essentially, ATBT was outlined but not scripted, introducing substantial improvisation into the mix. Believe it or not, this approach sort of works.  Harkrider has an acerbic wit, often making hip pop culture references, whereas the more blunt-spoken Claibourne has a knack for cutting to essence of each issue. Still, their purported insights into race and class do not readily suggest wider universal truths, reflecting more specific circumstances instead.

It might be talky, but ATBT is an unusually stylish film, thanks to Pelt’s music (definitely including his Coltrane cover as well as some original themes), Brian O’Carroll’s evocative neon nocturnal cinematography, and Matthew Woodson’s viscerally powerful black-and-white illustrations (used in lieu of recreated flashbacks). Arguably, there is enough substance in the two frienemies’ verbal parrying to keep viewers reasonably invested, but the male-centric gabfest is likely to be divisive among audiences. Regardless, the visual and audio trappings are quite a rich feast. Recommended for viewers receptive to a jazz-noir version of My Dinner with Andre, All the Beautiful Things screens again in Park City today (1/24) and tomorrow (1/25) as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: No No: a Dockumentary

For most baseball fans, Dock Ellis is best known as the man who won the 1976 AL Comeback Player of the Year and helped pitch the New York Yankees into that year’s World Series. It is a perfect example of how a great team can rejuvenate veteran players. There are also those remember him for throwing a no-hitter while under the influence of LSD. Jeffrey Radice profiles Ellis’s colorful career and meaningful post-baseball life in No No: a Dockumentary, which screens during the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Radice openly evokes Superfly and other blaxploitation films when chronicling Ellis’s early seasons with the Pittsburgh Pirates. Ellis liked to dress sharp, but he was not inclined to take guff off anyone.  However, he was far less confident beneath his bluster, which is why he regularly took some narcotic courage before starting a game.

While our Yankee chauvinism might sound like an exaggerated put-on, the late Ellis might not have objected. While he was happy to notch the no-no career milestone, many of Dockumentary’s talking heads suggest Ellis was uncomfortable with all the sophomoric jokey attention focused on the LSD part of the story.  After all, some of the most compelling sequences follow Ellis’s drug-fueled implosion and his subsequent comeback as an addiction counselor.

Radice talks to a number of Ellis’s former teammates, family members, and ex-wives, compiling a pretty thorough composite of his subject.  He maintains a brisk pace, while Beastie Boy Adam Horovitz’s score and the funky licensed tracks evoke the 1970’s vibe quite distinctively. Ellis’s story also raises several topical issues, such as drug use, domestic abuse, and the state of post-Jackie Robinson racial relations in Major League Baseball.  Radice gives them all their proper due, but never strays too far from the baselines.  Frankly, he gets the mix of social relevancy and retro attitude just right.  Highly watchable, No No: a Dockumentary is recommended for audiences beyond the obvious ESPN market. It screens again in Park City today (1/24) and tomorrow (1/25) as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: The Raid 2

Rama’s last mission was an off-the-books frontal assault. He was one of the few survivors. This time, he will use stealth and deception. Don’t worry, he will generate the same massive body count in Gareth Huw Evans’ The Raid 2 (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Ironically, busting his corrupt commanding officer might not be so hot for Rama’s career. It is likely to attract the wrong sort of attention.  Fortunately (or not), the leader of the new anti-corruption squad papers over the whole affair, so he can recruit Rama for a deep cover operation.  The honest cop and family man will spend two years in prison, where he will become the protector of Uco, the unstable son of Bangun, Jakarta’s top mob boss. His objective is not to take down Bangun, but to expose the cops in his pocket.

Matters get more complicated (as gangster business often does) when Uco hatches a plan to usurp his father and launch an all out war against their Japanese Yakuza allies. With chaos unleashed, Rama forms a de facto alliance with Eka, Bangun’s more rational lieutenant, played by Mr. Sundance, Oka Antara, co-lead of the Mo Brothers’ Killers.

Raid 2 starts a bit slower than the previous film, actually devoting a minute or two to exposition, but it is soon off to the races. In addition to the mega-melees, there are several feature spots devoted to various supporting beat down artists. Yayan Ruhian, Iko Uwais’s co-action choreographer on both films, reappears in the persona of Prakoso, a loyal Bangun assassin done wrong by Uco.  However, the sequel’s new fan favorite is likely to be Julie Estelle, who literally tears it up the joint as the aptly named “Hammer Girl.” Watching her go Sears Craftsman on various Yakuza is what the movies should be all about.

Once again, Uwais and Ruhian’s fight scenes are spectacularly violent and wildly cool. Close quarters combat is unquestionably their forte. While their moves are often dazzling cinematic, there is nothing superhuman in Raid 2, except perhaps its characters’ tolerance for pain.

Uwais is an earnest enough screen presence with truly ferocious action chops. Likewise, Ruhian and Estelle should be future cult stars in their own right.  Arifin Putra brings plenty of entitled villainy as the recklessly ambitious Uco, while Antara and Tio Pakusodewo’s Bangun nicely hold up the Johnnie To gangster tradition.

Without question, Raid 2 maintains the franchise’s status as the reigning Cadillac of martial arts cinema. Saturated in adrenaline, it is the sort of film that inspires expressions of appreciative shock and awe from the audience.  Highly recommended, it screens again this Saturday (1/25) in Salt Lake as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: Low Down

Jazz musicians have families like anybody else.  Some even produce musical dynasties, like the Marsalises and the O’Farrills. For many though, the inconsistent nature of gigging is a stressful fact of jazz family life.  Heroin addiction adds a further destabilizing element.  Amy Albany understands this all too well.  Her memoir tells a stark tale of drug abuse, bebop, and paternal love.  Jazz pianist and former Charlie Parker sideman Joe Albany’s chaotic parenting gets the biopic treatment in Jeff Preiss’s Low Down, which screens during the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Tragically, Joe Albany was arguably the more responsible of Amy Albany’s parents, but that is saying a lot. While Amy Albany’s absentee alcoholic mother only fleetingly appears in her life, Joe makes a good faith effort at fatherhood.  Sadly, Hollywood in the early 1970’s is a tough scene for working jazz musicians, but it is easy to score junk there.

Clearly, Joe Albany had a good rapport with his daughter, but he was enslaved to his habits. Right from the start, a pattern emerges.  Resolving to do right by his daughter and parole officer, Albany will clean up, accepting gigs beneath his stature for the sake of his family commitments.  Yet, his inevitable benders consistently undo all his good intentions.  During these periods, Amy Albany moves back in with her gruff but eternally patient grandmother.

Having served as the cinematographer of Bruce Weber’s Chet Baker documentary, Let’s Get Lost, Preiss is no stranger to the effects of long term heroin use—but he has nothing on Amy Albany, who co-adapted her book for the big screen.  It is not pretty in either film.  However, Albany’s source memoir is even more harrowing in its depiction of drug use. Still, the wreckage wrought by Albany’s addiction is all too believable and realistic on-screen.

Right, so this is not exactly happy stuff, but John Hawkes’ performance as Joe Albany is quite remarkable.  He perfectly captures the cadences and mannerisms of a dissipated musician and looks comfortable enough behind the piano. It is painful witnessing his long slow process of self-destruction, precisely because he so vividly brings out the more edifying aspects of Albany’s personality.  Playing a bit against type, Glenn Close is rather earthy and compelling as his tough working class mother.  Lena Headey also makes a strong impression in her brief scenes as Sheila Albany.  Unfortunately, Elle Fanning is too bland and retiring as the teenaged Albany.

Low Down is a quality period production that painstakingly recreates the desperate seediness of Hollywood in the 1970’s.  It might be hard to watch, but it sounds great, thanks to extensive archival recordings from Albany and his contemporaries, as well as some original jazz themes composed and recorded by Ohad Talmor. Depressing but well intentioned and deeply humanistic, Low Down is recommended for bebop fans when it screens again today (1/23) and tomorrow (1/24) in Park City, as well as this Sunday (1/25) at Sundance Resort, as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: Memphis

They know the blues in Memphis. One star-in-the-making also happens to be particularly good at giving the blues. In fact, the blues are downright contagious in Tim Sutton’s Memphis, which screens during this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Willis Earl Beal essentially plays a fictionalized version of himself. His electric bluesman is poised to break out, yet he keeps self-sabotaging. When you get him talking, he has some colorful things to say. Unfortunately, like many characters in the film, he is prone to amble about deserted parking lots and other pretentious art cinema backdrops.

Granted, Memphis offers plenty of local color. Sutton often stops by the local Hallelujah church for a fix of gospel choir and ambiguous ruminations on the role faith plays in the lives of its average working class members. Clearly, this is a depressed city (at least this is the case for the neighborhoods Sutton and Beal traverse), but to his credit, Sutton presents a nuanced portrait of the city’s economic and social realities.

Featuring Beal’s tunes and the supplemental music of Scott Bomar, Memphis gets the soundtrack right. However, you would be hard pressed to find a narrative in there.  Still, Beal has two truly great scenes that might be cobbled together into a compelling short.  In contrast, the rest of the film feels like snoozy filler.

Honestly, any film that looks and sounds as good as Memphis should never be such a chore to watch. Beal demonstrates his potential star power, but he needs more to work with than the skeletal bones of Sutton’s screenplay. Overall, it is a real disappointment.  For blues diehards heedless of our warnings, it screens again today (1/22) and Saturday (1/25) in Park City, as part of the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: The Better Angels

That log cabin business was no joke.  Abraham Lincoln’s formative years put the “hard” in hardscrabble. Yet, they shaped him into the commanding and compassionate leader our nation needed. Young Master Lincoln comes of age in A.J. Edwards’ impressionistic The Better Angels (trailer here), co-produced by Terrence Malick, which screens as a New Frontier selection of the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Narrated by Lincoln’s cousin reminiscing shortly after his assassination, Angels chronicles three years of his life as a gangly youth in the back hills of Indiana.  His devout but illiterate mother Nancy Lincoln recognizes her youngest son’s remarkable intellectual gifts, but his gruff father sees no value in a bookish education. Nancy Lincoln would die at a tragically young age, but her religious convictions clearly shaped her sensitive son’s ethical values.  A short while later Tom Lincoln remarries.  Sarah Lincoln also takes a shine to young Abraham, finally convincing her husband to support his education.

Throughout Angels, Malick protégé Edwards maintains a style consistent with that of his mentor, but scene after scene resonate with far greater emotion than the austere To the Wonder. This is a simple story, but it is deeply moving.  Aside from the exquisitely beautiful opening shots of the Lincoln Memorial, Angels never leaves the Indiana Hill country, circa 1817. Yet, Lincoln’s later significance is unambiguously stamped upon the film.

Visually, Angels is a true work of art.  Each and every frame of Matthew J. Lloyd’s black-and-white cinematography is suitable for framing. As sort of an illustrative tone poem-tribute to Lincoln, Angels fits comfortably enough in the New Frontiers rubric.  Nevertheless, the film boasts several very fine performances. Diane Kruger’s turn as Sarah Lincoln is wonderfully sensitive and finely wrought, but Jason Clarke’s work as the demanding but ultimately loving Tom Lincoln sneaks up on viewers, landing a total knockout punch.

Yes, Angels is deliberately paced, favoring sensory stimulus over narrative drive. It is also an unusually powerful and evocative film. There will be plenty of people who just won’t get it, but they will be wrong. Elegantly crafted, it is one of the high-end high-points of this year’s Sundance. Enthusiastically recommended for patrons with adult attention spans, The Better Angels screens again today (1/22) and Saturday (1/25) in Park City.

Sundance ’14: Dead Snow; Red vs. Dead

It turns out that old “fight fire with fire” idiom also applies to zombie uprisings.  The National Socialist zombies are back and they are on the march in Tommy Wirkola’s Dead Snow; Red vs. Dead (trailer here), which screens during the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

If you forgot the intricate plot of Snow 1, Snow 2 is considerate enough to bring us all back to speed. Martin was the only one who survived when an army of Nazi zombies attacked his friends’ ski lodge.  However, he did not make a clean getaway.  A few days later, he wakes up in hospital, finding himself an accused mass murderer, with the arm of the undead Standartenfuhrer Herzog mistakenly grafted in place of the arm he self-amputated Evil Dead-style.   To make matters worse, his new limb seems to have a homicidal mind of his own, further reinforcing everyone’s erroneous assumptions. At least it comes in handy during his escape.

Eventually teaming up with three American zombie hunters and a goth kid working at a provincial WWII museum, Martin hatches a daring plan to stop the Herzog’s zombies before they can fulfill their final orders: the mass execution of a defiant coastal town. Thanks to his zombie augmented arm, Martin can raise his own loyal zombie minions, so he heads into the mountains in search of the mass grave entombing Herzog’s Russian nemesis and his Red Army troops. That actually sounds like a workable plan, right?

With R vs. D, Wirkola proves there is still some life left in the Norwegian Nazi zombie genre after all.  Frankly, part two far exceeds the original.  While the first film was content to coast on the novelty of its premise, largely staging a conventional zombie siege, Wirkola’s follow-up more fully capitalizes on the possibilities of such a distinctive zombie apocalypse.  Opening the film up to the wider world also raises the stakes and the body count dramatically.

There are some big gory laughs in R vs. D and some clever hat-tips for fans. In fact, some of the bits might even break new zombie ground. Vegar Hoel is pitch perfect as Martin, the conscience-stricken zombie hunter.  Jocelyn DeBoer and Ingrid Haas also bring a blast of energy to the proceedings as Zombie Squad members constantly arguing the age old question: Star Wars vs. Star Trek. They should make geeks very happy indeed.

Clearly, R vs. D has all the elements to be the feel-good hit of the year or at least the Little Miss Sunshine of this year’s Sundance.  It is truly a triumph of the human spirit, with plenty of flying body parts as an added bonus. It is probably safe to say Thomas Edison invented moving pictures precisely so the world would have films like this. Highly recommended for zombie fans (considerably more than its predecessor), Dead Snow; Red vs. Dead screens again tonight (1/22) in Park City and this Friday (1/24) in Salt Lake as part of the Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: Killers

Presumably, this is not what Al Gore had in mind when he invented the internet. A Jakarta journalist obsessed with the death videos posted online by a Tokyo serial killer starts following suit when he crosses into vigilante slayings.  Soon thereafter, they strike up an unlikely IM dialogue, but it is not what you would call a friendly rivalry. Things will get bloody in the Mo Brothers (Timo Tjahjanto & Kimo Stromboel)’s Killers, which screens during the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Bayu’s unsuccessful attempts to bring down a well-heeled, politically connected sexual predator short-circuited his career and indirectly caused his separation from his wife. Watching the videos posted by Shuhei Nomura only further stokes his anger management issues. It all finally boils over during an attempted mugging (and worse).  Suddenly, Bayu is in the Bronson business.

In contrast, the sadistic and precise Nomura is a cold blooded killer.  He gets sick satisfaction from killing, but he plans each prolonged murder out to the last detail.  However, Nomura will make an uncharacteristic mistake or two, making their months of correspondence a rather chaotic time for them both.

Frankly, Killers might be too much even for veteran midnight movie patrons. Some of the sequences with Nomura are downright scarring, as well as scary.  Nevertheless, the Mo Brothers certainly know how to stage a hyper-violent action sequence.  For instance, Bayu has a hotel getaway melee scene that ranks with the hallway fight scene in Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy (the real one, not the cheap remake). About as tense as genre films can get, Killers is an unrelenting white knuckle viewing experience from the first frame up to the last.

Despite its unseemly milieu, Killers features a top drawer cast working at the peak of their powers.  Japanese TV heartthrob Kauzki Kitamura is disturbingly cold and creepy as Nomura, while Oka Antara’s Bayu broods like nobody’s business. However, the finely nuanced Rin Takanashi (so exquisitely vulnerable in Kiarostami Like Someone in Love) gives the film some heart and soul as the prospective victim who starts to awaken emotions in Nomura (that is definitely one of those goods news-bad news kind of things).

With Killers, the Mo Brothers definitely announce themselves as adrenaline charged filmmakers to be reckoned with.  Unfortunately, long stretches of the film are just no fun to watch. Brutal but effective, Killers is specifically recommended for experienced cult film connoisseurs when it screens again today (1/21) and Thursday (1/23) in Park City, as well as this Saturday (1/25) in Salt Lake, as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: Cold in July

In Texas, they do not need “stand your ground laws.” Instead, they apply the “did he have it coming” standard.  As a result, not too many people are concerned when Richard Dane accidentally kills a home intruder, least of all the police. However, the deceased’s ex-con father seems somewhat put-out by it all in Jim Mickle’s Cold in July, which screens during this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Dane is hardly an action hero. He truly did not intend to kill Freddy Russell when he interrupted the burglar at work.  The situation just made him understandably jumpy. Ray Price (the cop on the case, rather than the Nixon speechwriter) is happy to sweep the entire incident under the rug, but not Ben Russell. Released just in time for his estranged son’s funeral, he soon starts threatening Dane and his family. At first, Price assumes he is just posturing, but things escalate quickly.  Then the first game-changing shoe drops.

Adapted from Joe R. Lansdale’s novel, July starts out as a conventional home invasion-revenge thriller, but radically shifts gears in the second act, veering into Andrew Vachss territory.  While it appropriately has the dusty noir look of Jim Thompson films, it is way darker than even The Killer Inside Me. There are scenes here that sensitive viewers might wish they could “unsee.”

Regardless, it is brutally effective when it gets down to business. The late 1980’s period details also help the film’s thriller dynamics, taking the internet and cell phones (aside from a running Gordon Gekko style gag) out of the picture. It all ends in a bloody and ironic place that should satisfy genre fans.

Michael C. Hall does decent work as Dane, but he is simply overwhelmed by the seriously hardboiled Sam Shepard, seething like mad as the senior Russell. Yet, Don Johnson chews more scenery and out hardnoses everyone as Jim Bob Luke, a sort of gunslinger recruited into the bloody family feud. As a further bonus, Mickle’s co-writer Nick Damici adds some distinctively noir seasoning as Price, the shady copper.

Stylish, intense, and at times blackly comic, July is a slickly executed criminal morality play. However, it might be too strong for Lifetime and Hallmark Channel viewers. Recommended for hardy film noir connoisseurs, Cold in July screens today (1/20) in Salt Lake and tomorrow (1/21), Thursday (1/23), and Saturday (1/25) in Park City, as part of the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’14: Sepideh Reaching for the Stars

In the provincial Iranian foothills, an astronomy club sets up a portable telescope outside a skeletal observatory, abandoned halfway through the construction process. Meanwhile, it is full speed ahead for Iran’s nuclear reactors.  Such are the scientific priorities in today’s Iran.  For a teenage girl harboring astronomical dreams, the cultural climate is even trickier.  Documentary filmmaker Berit Madsen quietly observes her subject plugging away in Sepideh Reaching for the Stars (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Star-gazing has profound personal significance for Sepideh Hooshyar. It is a form of meditation and a way to commune with the spirit of her beloved late father.  As an intelligent student blessed with an independent streak, she has been tapped as a leader of her extracurricular astronomy club. Naturally, her patriarchal deadbeat uncles do not think very much of young women practicing astronomy. For reasons of greed and pettiness, they have jeopardized the financial position of Hooshyar’s mother.  Still, the young woman is not inclined to kowtow to anybody.

While Hooshyar never directly addresses any political or ideological controversies, it would still be fair to describe her as a free-thinker.  Throughout the film, she addresses her diary entries to her muse, Albert Einstein, and takes inspiration from her idol, Iranian American astronaut Anousheh Ansari (whom she erroneously considers the “first woman in space”).

Intellectually, most viewers understand Iran is far from a progressive society, but there are scenes of unabashed misogyny in Sepideh that will drop their jaws and boil their blood. Clearly, young Hooshyar is nearly always the smartest person in the room, but her government, society, and extended family all seem determined to squander her talents.

Given her fly-on-the-wall style, Madsen’s never offers any commentary or context, but it is transparently evident where these attitudes come from. The men and assorted female authority figures are all swimming in Islamist rhetoric.  Filmed in a rather flat, colorless HD, Sepideh is not particularly cinematic looking, but there are real stakes to the drama that unfolds.

In many ways, Sepideh could be considered a fitting documentary companion to Haifaa Al Monsour’s narrative feature, Wadjda.  It is a timely film, but a deeply personal story.  Highly recommended, Sepideh Reaching for the Stars screens again tomorrow (1/21), Thursday (1/23), and Friday (1/24) in Park City, as part of the 2014 Sundance Film Festival.