Tribeca ’09: Queen to Play

The fact that the queen is the most powerful piece on the chessboard is surely not lost on Hélène. As a put-upon Corsican hotel maid with an insensitive husband, she could use some empowering. That she achieves through the game of chess in Caroline Bottaro’s Queen to Play (trailer here), a buzz-generating film at the recent Tribeca Film Festival.

To earn extra money, Hélène also cleans the villa of Dr. Kröger, an American expat. Watching him play chess with his younger wife stirs something within her—perhaps longings for the sort of relationship she would like to have with her husband. Suddenly, Kröger’s wife is gone, but Hélène’s fascination with the game remains.

Of course, hubby does not exactly share this budding interest, so her chess development is confined to late nights with the electronic chessboard. Frustrated, she approaches the increasingly sullen Kröger for a game. While at first reluctant, Kröger eventually becomes her chess tutor, sharpening her natural aptitude to the point he believes she is ready for tournament play.

To its credit, Queen takes the game of chess seriously instead of using it as a mere plot contrivance. The film’s best scenes show Hélène’s near obsession with the game, as chessboard patterns appear everywhere and common household items suggest problems from the game. However, aside from chess, we never really see her thinking strategically in her every day life. Instead, she seems to simply react to events around her.

Throughout the film, audiences will have a good idea where it is headed, right down to the big match between Hélène and the arrogant chess master. Yet, Bottaro wisely never overplays her hand and resists the lure of cheap emotion. Rather than lurch into Henry Higgins territory, Kröger confines his mentoring to the chessboard and an occasional book recommendation. However, as written, Hélène’s husband Ange, played Francis Renaud, is largely clichéd and occasionally problematically brutish.

Still, Sandrine Bonnaire’s smart, down-to-Earth performance makes Hélène’s transition from mousy maid to self-confident chess master relatively smooth and believable. Sure to get attention for his almost entirely French-speaking role, American actor Kevin Kline is also quite good as Kröger. His early scenes with his wife, played by the still very attractive Jennifer Beals, silently imply much history and romantic heat between them.

Overall, Queen is a pleasant, if predictable story of a late-blooming woman finding her place in the world. With its uplifting story of personal development, effective use of the picturesque Corsican backdrop, and well-known American cast members Kline and Beals, Bottaro’s film seems like a strong candidate for theatrical distribution, so anticipate post-Tribeca screening opportunities in the future.

Tribeca ’09: North

Those long winters in Northern Scandinavia are not especially conducive to an active social life. Especially not for those predisposed to depression, as is the case for Jomar, the alienated protagonist of North (trailer here), which won the Best New Narrative Filmmaker Award for Norwegian director Rune Denstad Langlo at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Jomar hates his job operating a ski lift and he is not too crazy about life in general. He much prefers the sheltering environment of the local mental hospital to living in the real world. Unfortunately, his doctor declared him sufficiently recovered from his nervous breakdown, so he can visit for a game of ping-pong, but he is good to go.

Not exactly a model employee, Jomar spends his days and nights drinking and moping. It takes a disastrous visit from his former best friend (now married to his ex-wife) to jolt him out of his lethargy. In addition to his wife’s second marriage, Jomar also learns he is a father. After burning his bridges with the ski resort, Jomar decides it is time to meet his son, so he sets out on a trek headed north.

Along the way Jomar meets plenty of eccentric characters and much alcohol is consumed. There is in fact, plenty of quirkiness going on in North. Fortunately, the taciturn Jomar never falls into the trap of saccharine cuteness. He has very real issues, which are convincingly brought out through Anders Baasmo Christiansen’s understated performance.

Langlo and cinematographer Philip Ogaard film some dramatic winter vistas, which demonstrate just how easy it could be to get lost (in every sense) in such surroundings. However, Langlo is a patient director to a fault, sometimes letting his affection for the characters bog down the pace. Yet, Christiansen’s grounded screen-presence keeps viewers invested throughout.

Although the main characters are very different, North bears strong comparison to another Norwegian film, Bent Hamer’s O’Horten, which opens in New York next week. Both films feature rather quiet, slightly off-center characters, looking for their place in the world and encountering various oddball characters in the process. It must be a Norwegian thing. As a Tribeca crowd pleaser, look for future festival engagements and possible distribution for North in the future.

Tribeca ’09: Still Walking

When parents break the unwritten rule prohibiting unequal affection for their children, it can obviously cause deep emotional fissures. Such is unfortunate case of Dr. Yokoyama and his wife. Their favoritism has tragic repercussions for the entire Yokoyama family in Kore-eda Hirokazu’s Still Walking (trailer here), which screened at the Tribeca Film Festival and will soon be distributed by IFC.

Fifteen years ago, Junpei, the eldest son and focus of all the Yokoyama parental pride, died in a senseless accident. Though the Yokoyamas still had two perfectly good grown children, younger brother Ryota and older sister Chinami, neither is able to fill Junpei’s place in their hearts. As a result, Ryota usually avoids family visits, but he cannot beg off his mother’s memorial for his late brother on the anniversary of his death.

Outside factors further complicate the Ryota’s awkward homecoming. His parents are at best ambivalent about his marriage to Yukari, an understanding widow with a young son. Ryota also recently lost his job as a museum art-restorer, which he is determined to keep secret, even though he must frequently excuse himself to make networking calls on his cell. At the same time, Ryota’s distant father silently grapples with feelings of powerlessness and inadequacy brought on by advanced age, while Dr. Yokoyama’s wife deliberately nurses all her resentments and disappointments, acerbically giving voice to them as she cooks with Chinami. It seems this is a thoroughly unhealthy family get-together, but family is family.

Walking is a film of great subtlety that builds slowly but steadily, thanks to the steady hand of writer-director-editor Kore-eda. The wistful spirit is nicely underscored by the soundtrack music of GONTITI, the Japanese acoustic guitar duo who blend light jazz and polite world music influences into a mix well suited to the intimate simplicity of Kore-eda’s approach.

Throughout Walking, the Yokoyamas seem like a real-life family, thanks to the utterly natural and perfectly complimentary ensemble performances. Abe Hirosi’s quietly understated portrayal of Ryota holds the audience’s sympathy and delivers the film’s restrained but moving dramatic payoff. Surprisingly, former Japanese pop-star and professional celebrity YOU is also quite convincing as the dutiful daughter. Perhaps most crucial though, is the work of veteran Japanese actor Harada Yoshio, who deftly suggests the inner fears of the once powerful doctor, now forced to watch his vitality slip away.

Though Kore-eda has a global reputation, there is the risk Walking might be overshadowed on the art-house circuit by other Japanese family dramas recently released in America. While it lacks the visceral intensity of Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Tokyo Sonata or the overwhelming emotional punch of Yojiro Takita’s Departures, it is a very honest and direct film, whose elegiac conclusion has an undeniable power of its own. Those who missed it at Tribeca should look forward to its IFC release.

(The Tribeca Film Festival wrapped last night with its award screenings. While TFF is the biggest, most influential film festival in New York, the City regularly hosts many great festivals, which are New Yorkers’ first and often only opportunity to see tremendous films from around the world. An excellent example is the upcoming Bosnian-Herzegovinian Film Festival. Look for coverage here on the weekend of May 15th.)

Tribeca ’09: Salt of this Sea

In a rare display of organizational competency, the Palestinian Authority has consistently submitted films for the Best Foreign Language Award, even snagging a nomination in 2005. Their 2008 submission is a somewhat surprising choice, since it frankly depicts the corrupt and arbitrary nature of life under the PA. Though a decidedly mixed bad, Annemarie Jacir’s Salt of this Sea (trailer here), indeed has some noteworthy moments. While its New York debut occurred during the recently concluded Tribeca Film Festival, it seems likely to secure further invitations from City festivals, given its origins and subject matter.

Soraya is an American citizen, but her family roots are in Jaffa. Deeply steeped in grievance politics, she travels to Ramallah, by way of Israel, hoping to connect with her heritage. Soraya also wants to recover the long frozen bank account her grandfather had originally opened during the era of British colonial rule. However, the corrupt bank managers refuse to recognize her claim, naturally invoking Israel as a scapegoat. Rather than pursue legal options (it is worth noting Israel has probably the most accessible court system on Earth), Soraya opts to rob the bank with her new boyfriend Emad and his aspiring filmmaker buddy, Marwan.

Somehow they pull off the job with unloaded guns and high-tail it to safer territory: Israel. With Soraya and friends on the lamb and living solely in the moment, SOTS veers into Breathless territory. Jacir nicely captures the unreal qualities of these moments of deceptive peace that clearly cannot last. Unfortunately, attempts to be politically provocative often fall flat. For instance, the security wall is often used as a backdrop, obviously intended as an ominous symbol. Yet, in actuality, it has the innocuous look of a non-descript industrial park (again it is worth noting reports terrorism-related deaths fell by fifty percent since the wall’s construction).

There is no doubt the camera loves radical spoken word performer Suheir Hammad as Soraya. At times, she is an exciting screen presence, but she has a tendency to over-act, eventually giving free reign to a petulant anger that seems misplaced even in the politicized context of the film. Saleh Bakri by contrast, is more credible and consistent as the likable but disillusioned Emad.

Frankly, SOTS is a better than anticipated film, featuring several strong supporting performances. Jacir impressively mixes gritty realism with some memorable visual imagery. However, SOTS is ultimately undermined by the same biases and resentments which plague its protagonist.

Tribeca ’09: This Will All Make Perfect Sense One Day (Short)

Destiny is supposed to be there to help true love along. Sadly, it has not worked out that way for the lovelorn protagonist of Long-Cuu Phan’s short film This Will All Make Perfect Sense One Day, which screens again today as part of the “Mixed Feelings” short program at the Tribeca Film Festival.

Three times in his life, a young Asian-American man meets his “100% perfect match,” but each time fate intervenes to separate them. As Sense opens, it is 1999 and the narrator is working his final shift at a collegiate coffee house. It is just another routine day, until an attractive woman enters the café. Somehow, the tongue-tied man knows with absolute certainty she is that “perfect match,” whom he had fallen in love with years ago when they were both shy school children.

Unfortunately, just as she returns to America, he must leave for photography school in Japan. Yet, he will constantly agonize over what he should have said then, while reliving the memories of their brief childhood romance, before he finally returns to America eight years later.

Young actors Kevin Phan and Kristen Nguyen have a touching sweetness as the young perfect match that never seems precocious or affected. As for their adult counterparts, Chris Dinh’s understated performance as the narrator evokes years of yearning and regret, while Leni Ito brings genuine warmth and vulnerability to the object of his affection.

Sense has a rich visual style and some inventive editing, but its technical polish never overshadows Long-Cuu Phan’s very personal story. It is a sad but graceful film that casts a melancholy spell which proves difficult to shake. Sense is probably the best short of the festival and it is also the first film in the “Mixed Feelings” program. So, if you see only one short at Tribeca today (the last day of screenings), Sense should be it.

Tribeca ’09: My Dear Enemy

Japan’s decade-long economic downturn has one advantage. Every contemporary film and novel from that period suddenly feels in-the-now to the rest of the world. Such is the case with Lee Yoon-ki’s Korean adaptation of Japanese author Taira Azuko’s novelette, My Dear Enemy (trailer here), screening at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Set in Seoul rather than Tokyo, as Enemy opens, the Korean economy has done no favors for single thirty-something Hee-su. In fact, she needs money quite badly, so when she gets a line on the slacker ex-boyfriend she regrettably loaned the equivalent of $3,500, she moves in to collect. Of course, the preternaturally irresponsible Byung-woon does not have two cents to his name, but he promises to raise the money from his lucky friends. However, he insists Hee-su come along for the ride.

For the rest of the day, Hee-su has the awkward experience of meeting a parade of Byung-woon’s ex-girlfriends, many of whom seem rather out of his league, like the well-heeled hostess (played by Oh Ji-eun). However, they all seem willing to float Byung-woon yet another loan to retire his debt with Hee-su, while he seems to take perverse enjoyment in the asking. Naturally, their mission encounters inevitable pitfalls along the way, as well as a host of extreme personality types. There are also hints of the old magic between the former lovers, as well as plenty of fresh reminders of their incompatibility.

Hee-su and Byung-woon spend nearly the entire film forced together in confined spaces, like her car, the subway, or a strange apartment. There is big-time history between them, but the audience only learns the broad strokes of their failed relationship. Jeon Do-yeon and Ha Jeong-woo are absolutely convincing as the mismatched exes. They richly convey the chemistry which initially brought them together, as well as the frictions and annoyances that ultimately drove them apart. Jeon’s performance is particularly nuanced, expressing the mounting desperation of the normally reserved Hee-su.

Lee Yoon-ki is a sensitive director, who lovingly frames his shots. He lets each scene play out at a natural, unhurried pace, but the results never feel sluggish or self-indulgent. He gets a big assist from Kim Jeong-beom’s spritely swing-oriented jazz soundtrack, which prevents the film’s momentum from ever dragging.

While Enemy might be small in scope, its “deal with the ex” storyline should have universal appeal. It is a handsomely crafted film, featuring an admirably honest and emotionally direct performance by Jeon Do-yeon. It screens again at Tribeca on Sunday (5/3).

Tribeca ’09: Moon

What do you get when you combine the corporate responsibility of the Alien franchise with the décor of 2001? Surprisingly, the answer is Duncan Jones’s Moon (trailer here), a moody character-driven science fiction film screening at the Tribeca Film Festival.

The son of David Bowie, Jones entered the world with the name Zowie Bowie, which he eventually changed for obvious reasons. For the record, Major Tom does not appear in Moon, nor is “Space Oddity” heard on the soundtrack, although Bowie’s fictional astronaut shares a similar state of mind with Sam Bell, Moon’s lonely protagonist.

Bell is mere weeks shy of completing his three year contract as the solitary caretaker of an energy harvester on the far side of the Moon. In that time, he has had no live interaction with other human beings, only recorded messages from his wife Tess. His only companion is the robot Gerty, who seems to be a combination of HAL 9000 and Twiki from Buck Rodgers, but with the silky-smooth voice of Kevin Spacey.

The isolation seems to be a toll on Bell, both mentally and physically. He even blacks out on a routine mission, crashing the lunar SUV. When he wakes up in the infirmary, Gerty tells him his orders are to sit tight and wait for the extraction team to come make repairs and send him home. Instead, he steals away to the crash site, finding the near-dead spitting image of himself behind the wheel of the vehicle.

Suddenly, there are two Bells tensely coexisting in the Moon station, one older and ailing, the other younger and more assertive. New Bell quickly figures out some sort of nefarious cloning scheme is going on, and none of their implanted memories can be trusted. Considering how thuggish the extraction team looks in their ID photos, the clock would seem to be ticking for the Bells.

The visual effects of Moon are indeed quite effective, seamlessly integrating the two Bells in their scenes together. Yet, it is Sam Rockwell who really sells the premise, dramatically differentiating the two Bells. Frankly, it is a bit of a shock how much pathos he is able to wring out of sickly Bell.

Jones’s direction is tightly focused, evoking the claustrophobic conditions of the lunar base and Clint Mansell’s insinuating electronic score heightens the otherworldly atmosphere. Yes, the script relies on the kneejerk stereotype of the evil corporation, but it also offers an unambiguous ethical critique of cloning, staking out a pro-life position in that context.

Ultimately, Moon is a thoughtful excursion into the science fiction genre and a probing cautionary tale of the potential dangers of unchecked, industrial cloning. Essentially, it is science fiction for those who are usually uncomfortable with sci-fi. It screens again at Tribeca today (5/2), in advance of its June theatrical opening.

Tribeca ’09: Seven Minutes in Heaven

Suicide-homicide bombings might be a fact of life in Israel, but that makes them no less devastating for those who lose loved ones in such attacks. As a survivor of a bus bombing, Galia sustained severe burns to her arms and back, but the emotional wounds from the loss of her boyfriend Oren run far deeper in Omri Givon’s powerful drama Seven Minutes in Heaven (trailer here), one of the highlights of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Galia was clinically dead for seven minutes, yet she returned to the land of the living. Oren however, fell into an irreversible coma and slowly slips away before her eyes. Haunted by “what if’s” and suffering from acute survivor guilt exacerbated by painful memories of their final lovers’ quarrel, Galia could use some closure. Those brief seconds seem to hold the key as she tries to reconstruct what happened to her during the immediate aftermath of the senseless attack.

Though still in mourning, Galia finds solace in the attentions of the easy-going Boaz, who always seems to be around when she needs him. As she pursues her investigation, Galia discovers she is linked to Boaz in unexpected ways. Seeking cathartic answers, Galia visits the bombed-out husk of the fateful bus, at which point Seven delivers the audience a metaphysical curve ball. Cinematically, it is a dazzling scene, jumping between clearly differentiated timeframes and perspectives, perfectly handled by Givon and editor Nitay Netzer.

Given the overall volume of flashbacks and hallucinations, Seven can still be a bit tricky to follow at times, but it is worth the effort. Givon has crafted a cerebral but emotionally engrossing film, nicely laying the groundwork for his third act revelation so it feels organic rather than gimmicky. Reymond Amsalem captures Galia’s guilt and regret with a direct immediacy that is hard to shake. She is perfectly balanced by the likable Eldad Fribas who invests Boaz with a wistful humanity that takes on greater dimensions in retrospect.

The circumstances of Seven are particularly tragic because they happen all too often in Israel, a point the film subtly makes. While at times demanding, Seven is an intelligently composed, legitimately moving film. It screens again at Tribeca on May 1st and 2nd.

Tribeca ’09: The Girlfriend Experience

Steven Soderbergh is a good interview subject, so it makes perfect sense his latest film was selected for a Tribeca Talks screening and panel discussion. As it happens, some of his comments did lead to a greater appreciation of The Girlfriend Experience (trailer here), which screens as part of the 2009 Tribeca Film Festival, ahead of its May 22nd theatrical opening.

Soderbergh is known for making two distinctly different kinds of films: big Hollywood pictures with the word “Ocean’s” in the title, and small, largely unscripted digital video independents. GFE is the latter. In addition to facilitating improvisation, Soderbergh added further wildcards into the mix by casting a number of actors in their first mainstream roles, including adult film star Sasha Grey, as Chelsea, a high-class Manhattan escort. In addition to standard “services,” Chelsea also offers her clients more intimate options which replicate the interaction of an actual relationship. Of course, you still have to pay to play.

Surprisingly, Chelsea has legitimate girlfriend experience herself. In fact, she is in a relatively committed relationship with Chris, a personal trainer well-aware of her line of work. Chris is a relentless self-improver, the kind of guy who probably has a drawer full of self-help tapes. He definitely has a Willie Loman streak, constantly selling himself and his line of sports wear to prospective clients, competing health clubs, and sporting good stores. It would be an oversimplification to suggest he sells himself as much as Chelsea, but there is no question she makes sales, whereas he does not.

As Chris, neophyte actor and real-life trainer Chris Santos makes an impressive debut. It is a brave performance, exposing the insecurities and frustrations of a character that audiences will assume to be autobiographical, given the similarities of their background. Grey by contrast, plays a character who by necessity maintains a nearly impassable emotional barrier between herself and the rest of the world. Her Chelsea is essentially a blank slate on which Chris and her clients project their desires.

GFE is a flawed but interesting film. Soderbergh and cinematographer Peter Andrews’s High Def give the film a rich, sophisticated look, but aside from Santos’s performance, it is a rather cold-blooded, passionless affair. While some scenes ring uncomfortably true, others seem to meander, which is completely understandable given its improvisational nature. Despite the absence of sex scenes, it remains a voyeuristic film, preoccupied with the material trappings of luxury, ultimately undercut by a rather abrupt ending. Though post-screening Soderbergh made a convincing case for it in terms of character development, it still remains a somewhat anti-climatic conclusion.

Soderbergh explained he avoided traditional sex scenes in GFE to emphasize the ways in which Chelsea’s career is altogether separate and apart from her less rarified competitors, and he certainly succeeds in that respect. While talky and uneven, at least GFE’s provocative dramatic situations are never dull to watch (and it even has a cool drum solo). It screens again at Tribeca on May 2nd.

Tribeca ’09: TiMER

For those pining for a good science fiction chick flick, your wait is over. In the very near future (which basically looks like right now) technology has radically altered the dating process, yet some issues between men and women remain constant. This is the brave new world posited in Jac Schaeffer’s TiMER (trailer here), now screening during the Tribeca Film Festival.

More revolutionary than speed-dating, TiMERs irrevocably changed courtship as humanity once knew it. Now a biometric implant shows a digital read out counting down to when the bearer will meet their true love. When the clock runs down, they will meet their perfect match within the next twenty-four hours, and when that happens, both TiMERs start beeping simultaneously—no more guess work. However, if your true love has not implanted a TiMER, your clock will be blank. Such is the predicament Oona O’Leary finds herself in.

TiMERs have not been kind to the O’Leary step-sisters. Oona is constantly on the lookout for eligible TiMER-less men, usually from flyover country, like Oklahoma. After a few dates, she convinces them to get implanted, hoping to hear that beeping noise. Alas, it has yet to happen. By contrast, Steph’s TiMER works just fine, but it has about twenty-some years to count down. Until she is forty-three, Steph only has one use for the men she meets, and it is not settling down.

While there is a perfunctory explanation of how TiMERS works—something vaguely related to body heat—there is absolutely no believable scientific foundation for such a device. However, once accepted, TiMER scrupulously observes its own rules, which facilitates some intriguing dramatic situations.

To its credit, TiMER offers some sharp speculations on the social implications of such a device. Unfortunately it is weighted down by several annoying major characters. Emma Caulfield’s Oona is such a type-A pill, it is difficult to root for her happiness. Frankly, one could understand her perfect match disabling his TiMER. Likewise, her possible love-interest Mikey, a frail slacker played by John Patrick Amedori, has no romantic credibility whatsoever in any of his scenes. However, Michelle Borth is fantastic as Steph, displaying excellent comic timing as well as delivering the most touching dramatic scenes of the film.

In TiMER, Schaeffer has created a seamless new set of social morays that raise intriguing questions about other potential problems arising from TiMERs. What about the criminal tampering of TiMERs, targeting heirs or heiresses for pecuniary purposes? How do people react when a TiMER suddenly goes blank because of the untimely death of their unmet mate? Such questions evidently will have to wait for a sequel, but it is a good sign when a film generates such musing with its premise.

Schaeffer proves to be both an inventive writer and a sensitive director in TiMER. Despite the unappealing leads, it is a very thought-provoking film, featuring an outstanding supporting turn by Borth. It screens again as part of the Tribeca Film Festival on April 30th and May 3rd.

Tribeca ’09: 3 Wheels (Short)

Think driving a New York pedicab is hard? Try peddling a rickshaw around the tropical Chinese island of Hainan. Evidently, the weather gets a bit hot there. However, Huang, a modest rickshaw driver, has more pressing concerns in Tony Wei’s 3 Wheels (trailer here), which is included in the Tribeca Film Festival’s “Means to an End” shorts program.

This is the longest day of Huang’s life. After reporting for work, the boss he secretly loves informs him she will be transferred off the island that evening, leaving forever on the 7:00 boat. All day, Huang struggles to build up the courage to express his true feelings. Simultaneously, he must ferry a young American tourist about the island, hitting all the unsavory attractions along the way.

As Huang explains local culture and customs to the American, the two opposing themes of Wheels emerge: the value of “perseverance,” as exemplified by Huang’s favorite legend, and the desire for a “happy ending,” which happens to be the name of Huang’s tour company as well as a code word at one of the red light establishments the American patronizes.

Chung Lee’s screenplay uses such motifs quite effectively, while also giving the audience a strong sense of the island setting. What really distinguishes Wheels though, is Chung-Heng Chu’s touching performance as the painfully shy Huang. He is a tragic but hopeful figure, nicely counterbalanced by Cary Woodworth, as the brash but perhaps not irredeemable American.

Wheels features an outstanding lead performance and takes full advantage of its exotic locale. At seventeen minutes, it is a very satisfying short film. It screens again this afternoon, and on May 2nd and 3rd, as part of Tribeca’s short film programming.

Tribeca ’09: Con Artist

Mark Kostabi is an artist you can make money selling. That is high praise indeed coming from a particularly commercial gallery owner. However, he never calls Kostabi a great artist—quite the contrary. Such is the career of self-styled “celebrity artist” Mark Kostabi, which director Michael Sládek shrewdly documents in Con Artist (trailer here), now screening as part of the Tribeca Film Festival.

Opinions of Kostabi’s art vary widely. He does have his brave defenders, including the California gallery owner who mounted his first unheralded show. However, they are usually referring to his early work. Kostabi now operates more as a factory manager than an artist. While he approves conceptual designs, the actual art is carried out by his staff of artists. Typically, Kostabi’s only hands-on work comes when he signs his name.

Andy Warhol was undeniably a formative influence on Kostabi, certainly through his work, but particularly for the way the celebrated pop artist cultivated his celebrity status. However, the student has arguably surpassed the teacher in elevating the pursuit of fame to an art form in itself. Essentially, Kostabi argues his entire public persona and artistic business constitute an ongoing performance art piece, much in the spirit of Andy Kaufman. Of course, he is still making sales and maximizing profits, while utilizing the labor of others. Individually, his pieces are not outrageously expensive, but you know what they say about volume. Ka-ching.

As the title indicates, Sládek maintains a healthy skepticism regarding Kostabi’s artistic legitimacy. His approach is subversive rather than reverential, often undercutting Kostabi’s credibility with unflattering footage of the unrestrained egomaniac. Though evidence of Kostabi’s preoccupation with his image might seem embarrassing, it seems as long as you are pointing a camera at him, Kostabi will happily be your best friend.

Obviously, access to Kostabi was not a problem for Sládek. However, he gets credit for presenting an unusually balanced portrait of his subject. In fact, his talking head segments are often absolutely withering in their appraisal of Kostabi, both as an artist and a person, at times Con seems more like a satire than a documentary.

Con is a highly watchable, level-headed accomplishment in documentary filmmaking. Since Sládek never buys into Kostabi completely, he is never compelled to minimize or defend the artist’s excesses. As a result, the audience can watch his frequently crazy antics and come to their own conclusions. Con is a surprisingly funny film with a rebel spirit and a hardcore punk soundtrack to match. It screens again at Tribeca on May 2nd.

Tribeca ’09: Hysterical Psycho

There is nothing worse than a bad genre send-up. For instance, there is manga spoof out there so unwatchable, its makers should be deported to an arctic prison-camp. Fortunately, Dan Fogler’s Hysterical Psycho (trailer here) is nothing like that. While not exactly Noel Coward, Psycho has enough splattering blood and affectionate giggles to amuse slasher fans during this year’s Tribeca Film Festival’s Midnight programming.

Clearly intended in part as an idiosyncratic tribute to Alfred Hitchcock, Hysterical begins with a very cool animated framing device, featuring a Hitch-like Man in the Moon. Then a deliberately grainy color prologue follows, suggesting the garish looking 1970’s monstrosities Mystery Science Theater used to skewer with regularity, before settling into the primary storyline, shot in glorious black and white.

The premise is simple—it is a slasher film, after all. A theater group packs up an RV and heads to the Moonlake Inn resort for some sort of team-building retreat. Needless to say, it does not happen. There is an evil influence in those woods, and before you know it, the bodies start piling up. Ironically, the ostensive psycho killer plot in Hysterical might actually be bettter developed than most of the films it satirizes. Audiences might also recognize Gilbert Gottfried in a mercifully brief cameo and Nicholas DeCegli, a mainstay of Abel Ferrara’s films during the 1990’s, appropriately cast as mob hitman who dumps his victims in the evil Moonlake.

There is plenty of blood spilled with joyful abandon and Fogler’s screenplay has a foul-mouthed Evil Dead attitude that is pretty funny at times. While Hysterical is most definitely hipper than the cookie-cutter “Blank Movie” spoofs Hollywood insists on churning out, viewers should be warned most of its humor derives from how outrageously over-the-top it is willing to go. Audiences who do not object to a little dismemberment and a groaner sight gag or two, should be perfectly comfortable in Hysterical. Just be warned.

Hysterical is the considered product of a Tony Award winner. In 2005 Fogler carried home the honor as Best Featured Actor in a Musical for The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. Frankly, he proves to be a better director than Hysterical requires, perfectly capturing the right crudely stylish Night of the Living Dead vibe. If not truly hysterical, it is at least chuckle worthy, in a darkly comic way. It screens again at Tribeca tonight, and May 1st and 2nd.

Tribeca ‘09: City Island

City Island might be part of the borough of the Bronx, but the small fishing community is a world removed from Fort Apache. It is a tightly-knit deeply-rooted community of working-class “clam diggers,” like Vince Rizzo, the protagonist of Raymond de Felitta’s City Island now screening at the Tribeca Film Festival.

Rizzo is a prison guard—sorry, that’s corrections officer—but acting is his secret ambition. He furtively takes drama lessons in the City, telling his judgmental wife Joyce he is playing poker instead. Of course, she incorrectly assumes the faithful Rizzo is having an affair. He does have secrets though, like the son he abandoned in his immature youth before meeting Joyce. Suddenly, Rizzo is forced to confront his past, when Tony Nardella, his long lost son, is transferred to his prison.

Nardella never had much family, but he could certainly use some now. He would qualify for parole if only he had someone to take him into their custody. Panged by conscience but reluctant to reveal the truth, Rizzo takes Nardella home with him, ostensibly to help him with home repair projects. Of course, the Rizzo home is not a particularly stable environment either, with Rizzo sneaking off to auditions, his wife manically suspicious, teen-aged son Vince, Jr. obsessed with his particular internet porn fetish, and daughter Vivian secretly working as a stripper after getting expelled from college.

Island might sound like a quirky indie family drama rife with cutesy pitfalls. However, the film nimbly tap-dances through that minefield. A jazz pianist as well as a director, de Felitta has a great sense of timing, maintaining a crisp pace throughout. In an appropriately representative scene, Rizzo’s drama teacher (in a memorable cameo performance by Alan Arkin) instructs his would-be method actors to avoid pauses in their delivery. Keeping it breezy seems to be de Felitta’s strategy here and by-and-large it works, abetted by a buoyantly diverse soundtrack, including some of the director’s own trio recordings.

Much of the complicated Rizzo family drama works quite well, never getting too adorable or saccharine. While somewhat uneven, Island never tarries too long with a misfiring subplot (like the pursuits of smarmy Vince, Jr.). Andy Garcia ably leads the cast, bringing both a blue-collar credibility and an engaging vulnerability to the confused Rizzo. Though her character is a bit exaggerated, Julianna Margulies is almost unrecognizable, submerging into Joyce’s Bronx-Westchester persona. However, Emily Mortimer packs the film’s greatest emotional punch as Rizzo’s drama class partner, wrestling with her own guilty secrets.

With Island, De Felitta charts a middle course between earnest indie family drama and screwball comedy that is surprisingly effective. It is a pleasingly light, but satisfying film. It screens again on April 29th and May 1st.

Tribeca ’09: Tell Tale

As the director of Alien and the author of “The Tell Tale Heart,” Ridley Scott and Edgar Allan Poe have scared a whole lot of people over the years. Now their talents finally come together, sort of. Produced by Ridley Scott and Tony Scott, indie director Michael Cuesta’s thriller Tell Tale, which premiered Friday night at the Tribeca Film Festival, takes its inspiration from the classic Poe short story, giving it a modern medical twist.

In the original Poe, the sound of a murdered man’s beating heart drives his killer mad with guilt. Now Cuesta updates and tweaks the story, adding elements of Michael Apted’s Blink and Oliver Stone’s The Hand. The murdered man’s heart still beats wildly when in the vicinity of his murderers, but it has been successfully transplanted into a worthy recipient.

Terry Bernard spends a lot of time at the hospital. He recently had heart-transplant surgery and his little girl suffers from a rare degenerative genetic disorder. Fortunately, she has a caring doctor, who also happens to be quite attractive and interested in Dad. The only downside is the criminal ring which killed Bernard’s donor and his wife, seems to be operating out of the same hospital, so whenever he visits, Bernard finds himself compelled to take bloody revenge against yet another killer.

Cuesta and cinematographer Terry Stacey film Bernard’s revenge scenes in an intense, visually disorienting style. In terms of look and mood, Tell is high class genre filmmaking. However, the script is fairly standard thriller fare, with distracting logical contradictions which stretch the suspension of disbelief beyond the initial premise.

Refreshingly, Tell is distinguished by what might sneeringly be called the film’s “family values.” Bernard is not a single father by choice, yet he chooses to uphold his parental obligations as well as those of the mother who abandoned the ailing father and daughter. It is also his commitment that attracts the lovely doctor. Josh Lucas is exudes a nice everyman likability as Bernard, the well meaning Dr. Jekyll, wrestling with his physical and mental well-being. Lena Headey also elevates the throwaway role of the noble Dr. Elizabeth Clemson, exuding genuine warmth and an earthy beauty.

With a talented cast and an entertaining premise, Tell has a lot of commercial potential. Unfortunately, the Friday night screening was interrupted by a sick audience member needing assistance. However, William Castle, the king of horror movie showmanship, was surely smiling down from Heaven. “Heart-Stopping” he would probably proclaim. Its next and hopefully less eventful screening will be on May 1st.

Tribeca ’09: The Eclipse

Thanks to great Irish supernatural writers like J. Sheridan Le Fanu and Bram Stoker, we like to think of Ireland as a land of banshees and haunted castles. The BBC recently bolstered that popular image with a report of a ghostly apparition sighted along a country road in County Tyrone, so perhaps widower Michael Farr should not be so alarmed by his ghostly visions. Except the protagonist of Irish playwright Conor McPherson’s The Eclipse is seeing the spirit of someone who has not died yet. Despite such supernatural elements, it would be a mistake to dismiss McPherson’s film as a mere ghost story. It is an emotionally complex work that has generated the most buzz (in my subjective judgment) among films currently screening at the 2009 Tribeca Film Festival.

Cobh in County Cork certainly looks like a picturesque seaport conducive to haunting. It also hosts an annual literary festival, which Farr always volunteers at, even though he has long forsaken his literary ambitions. At the current festival, he has been assigned to schlep two famous authors: the arrogant popular novelist Nicholas Holden and Lena Morelle, a sensitive writer of literary supernatural fiction. Much to Morelle’s regret, she shared an ill-advised night of passion with Holden at previous conference and would now prefer to forget the entire matter. Unfortunately, the married Holden has become obsessed with her.

When not shuttling his literary guests back and forth, Farr must tend to his two children and Malachy McNeill, the dying father of his late wife. Late one night, Farr wakens to spy a figure that might be his father-in-law stalking through the house. Although he is still quite lucid and can be accounted for during the times in question, Farr continues to be haunted by something that suggests the irascible old man, in visitations of increasing intensity. Farr experiences further angst as he comes to share Holden’s hopeless attraction to Morelle.

Eclipse gives the audience some legitimate chills thanks to McPherson’s deft direction and the eerie sound effects (edited by Jon Stevenson) that really create the desired state of apprehension. However, it is a much richer film than a simple chiller. On a deeper level, Eclipse is a meditation on how closely grief and love intertwine and reinforce each other.

Ciarán Hinds gives a tour-de-force performance as Farr, a man of many fears, regrets, and insecurities. Screaming in terror one minute and then playing a scene of touching beauty the next, Hinds is called upon to just about everything in this film, but he never takes a false step. Dutch actress Iben Hjejle also gives a wonderfully understated performance as the warm but sophisticated Morelle. Only Aidan Quinn’s performance as Holden comes across a bit one-dimensional, seeming to existence just to create problems for other people (of course, people like this unfortunately tend to pop up in real life).

While McPherson is one of those Irish supernatural writers himself, using ghostly motifs in plays like Shining City and The Weir, Eclipse is based on a short story by Billy Roche, who co-wrote the screenplay with the playwright-director. The result is extremely cinematic and not at all stagey. It does supply some good spine tingles, but it also a deeply satisfying, exquisitely crafted human drama. A definite festival highlight, it screens again on Tuesday (4/28) and Thursday (4/30).

Tribeca ’09: Yodok Stories

For many South Koreans, it is difficult to believe the reports of horrific human rights abuses committed in the North. That is probably why Polish director Andrzej Fidyk became the prime mover behind Yodok Stories, a stage musical about the inhuman atrocities regularly happening in North Korean concentration camps. Fidyk also documented the controversial theatrical production, undertaken at great risk by defectors who survived the Yodok camp, in his eye-opening Norwegian-produced film, likewise titled Yodok Stories (trailer here), now playing as part of the 2009 Tribeca Film Festival.

One thing the North Koreans certainly know is how to do is staging huge spectacles of tens of thousands of tightly choreographed participants, like the grand pageant celebrating the fortieth anniversary of DPRK Fidyk recorded in his 1988 documentary Parade. Impressed by the technical skill required to mount such a production, Fidyk wanted to collaborate with a former North Korean director to document the rest of the North Korean experiment in Communist collectivism. After many inquiries, he eventually found Jung Sung San.

While resistant at first, the defector ultimately agreed to work on Fidyk’s proposed theater piece. Obviously, Yodok Stories could not match the scope of North Korean presentations, which have the full compulsory force of the police state at their disposal. As a result, Yodok evolved into a production much akin to western book musicals, based on the harrowing experiences of camp survivors.

Evidently, most South Koreans are in a state of denial regarding the scope and conditions of the DPRK’s Kyo-hwa-so concentration camps. An estimated 200,000 to 300,000 North Koreans are condemned to such camps, which is essentially tantamount to a death sentence. Yodok is unique among such death camps, being the only facility which allows for the remote possibility of prisoners leaving alive—that is if they survive the torture, starvation, rape, forced abortions, and random executions.

Fidyk and Jung Sung San chillingly dramatize these outrages in the stage version of Yodok. However, Yodok’s biggest surprise is that the show sounds pretty good as a musical. Granted, the film never shows a complete, unedited number from start to finish (which is probably Fidyk’s only misstep). However, from the extensive clips we do see and hear, Yodok frankly seems just as good, if not better than most melodramatic Andrew Lloyd Weber extravaganzas.

At the heart of Yodok though, are the survivor stories on which it is based. Fidyk records some critically important testimony regarding the true nature of the Communist regime. As the director explains, even suicide is not an option for escape, because surviving family members are culpable for the alleged crimes of the so-called “traitors,” down to the third generation.

Clearly, it took a lot of courage for the defectors involved in the Yodok production to speak out. In addition to concern for their families’ safety, they also had to worry about their own physical well-being. In fact, Jung Sung San regularly received death threats via text messages during the production. Yet, despite his initial reluctance, the director was so committed to the production he reportedly even offered one of his kidneys as collateral when funding sources started drying up.

Yodok is an incredibly valuable documentary. It is a well constructed, thoroughly shocking film that forces audiences to confront the nature of the North Korean Communist regime. It is impossible to minimize the absolutely Hellish nature of the DPRK after viewing it—it simply brooks no denial. As the best documentary screening this year at Tribeca, Yodok should not be missed. It plays again tonight (4/27) and Thursday (4/30).

(Note: Jung Sung San's Yodok: the Musical, his cinematic record of the actual show, also debuts at Tribeca on Thursday.)

Tribeca ’09: Here and There

Its love, Serbian style. But not for Robert, a New York jazz musician, who has hit rock-bottom. He is just the groom. Love, music, and furniture moving all collide for the distinctively coiffed tenor-playing protagonist in Darko Lungulov’s Here and There (trailer here), which screens during the Tribeca Film Festival.

Robert is not making it in New York. He has only cut one poor selling record in his career and he has not even touched his horn in months. When evicted from his apartment, he calls Branko, a cut-rate Serbian mover. When Robert explains his situation, Branko offers him the strangest wedding gig of his career: fly to Belgrade, marry his girlfriend, and legally bring her back to Branko in America. Having burned all his other bridges, Robert reluctantly agrees.

In Serbia, Robert stays with Branko’s divorced mother, the still attractive Olga, who only knows he is a friend of her son. While waiting for Branko to come through with his money, Robert discovers Belgrade is a much nicer city to be down and out in, despite many of the locals’ defensiveness regarding recent Serbia history. There is also no denying the charm of Branko’s mother, who even convinces Robert to start playing his tenor again. However, the nature of Robert’s arrangement with Branko looms over his tentative new romance.

As Robert, David Thornton gives a well-modulated performance, expressing the world-weariness and desperation of a flawed, but not utterly unlikable character. Thornton will be instantly recognizable to audiences for his many supporting performances in both film and television, including the recurring role of slimy defense attorney Lionel Granger on Law & Order: SVU. He is perfectly balanced by veteran Serbian actress Mirjana Karanovic, who brings a memorable warmth and dignity to the role of Olga.

Thornton’s real-life wife Cyndi Lauper also appears in a cameo role, as a friend fast loosing patience with the self-destructive Robert. She also contributes an original, but forgettable, song to the film. However, the rest of Dejan Pejovic’s soundtrack is quite effective, incorporating jazz, traditional Serbian Guča-style brass band music (featuring those sideways Balkan trumpets), and some lush romantic mood music.

Lungulov conveys a strong sense of both cities in Here and There. It is a truly rare romantic comedy that almost completely avoids any form of sentimentality. Yet, it still has a romantic heart buried in there somewhere. While nimbly avoiding the clichés of the genre, Here and There is still a very satisfying film. It screens again today (4/26), May 1st and May 2nd.

Tribeca ’09: Deadline (Short)

Shorts are often pigeonholed by the uncharitable as starter films with poor production values—sometimes not without justification. However, Joseph Bakhash’s Deadline (pop-up trailer here) has the look and feel of a full Hollywood studio production with a relatively big name cast to match. It also happens to be the darkest short in the Tribeca Film Festival’s “Wake-Up Call” short film program.

Seth has been exonerated, but mentally he is still behind bars, enduring the unending abuse from Hollis, a particularly vicious prison guard. As he orders a late dinner-early breakfast from a pretty waitress, he repeatedly flashes back to his recent prison ordeal. Then Hollis walks in, clearly a regular customer at the late-night diner.

It seems Seth is out for some closure, but things are not what they appear. Deadline follows in the Serlingesque tradition ending with a surprising dark revelation. Frankly, the twist ending might be best suited to shorter formats, if for no other reason because audiences simply do not have as much time to guess the big twist.

Norman Reedus, the indie star of Boondock Saints, is hauntingly intense as the damaged Seth. Chris Mulkey, recognizable as Madchen Amick’s abusive husband in Twin Peaks and an uncharacteristically sympathetic recurring role on the current season of 24, is a menacingly effective presence as Hollis. (Unfortunately, the guard’s sinister version of Christianity is a bit of a tired cliché.)

Deadline has a great look thanks to the striking use of light and darkness by cinematographer Luke Geissbuhler (whose credits include Borat and Helvetica). Bakhash keeps it tightly focused, steadily building the tension and leading viewers exactly where he intends. Well acted and impressively produced, Deadline is a dark but memorable short film. It screens again at Tribeca on April 29th, May 1st, and May 3rd. (Bakhash will be at all upcoming dates for Q&A and Reedus will attend the screening of the 29th.)

Tribeca ’09: Fish Eyes

In truth, there is not one single China, but many. It is a vast country, incorporating many diverse ethnicities. However, in an economic sense there are two distinct Chinas, the go-go economic powerhouse we constantly hear of in the media, and the majority of the country eking out a hardscrabble existence. It is the latter that director Zheng Wei turns his camera on in the vérité-style drama Fish Eyes, now playing during the Tribeca Film Festival.

The Beijing Olympics are underway, but such pageantry is a world removed from Deshui’s harsh desert life. Women are not just scarce here—they are commodities. So when a silent mystery woman appears in their home, it certainly raises the eye-brows of his father. However, her vulnerability brings out the old man’s paternal instinct, perhaps compensating for his rather affectionless relationship with the coolly detached Deshui.

Apparently, Deshui feels the lure of the “new” China, but remains tethered by economic realities to his provincial home. He is constantly looking for shortcuts, falling in with dangerous underworld associates and taking advantage of people, including the woman now sharing his home. Tradition and family ties fail to resonate with him. The personal distance between Deshui and his father even manifests itself physically, when the son is visibly reluctant to stand close to the father for a photo.

Zheng Wei takes us to a lonely, desolate land, which he often films through shimmering mirrors to further distort the viewer’s perspective. Periodically, the radio announces further glorious news from the Beijing games, heightening the sense of displacement. The Olympics might as well be happening on Mars as far as the denizens of the desert are concerned.

Fish’s three leads hold up exceptionally well under the harsh examination of Zheng Wei’s unforgiving lens. Gu Xing-Hong, Shi Pei-Liang, and Shen Meng-Yao are quite remarkable as the taciturn trio, suggesting the emotional ambiguity and complexity of their “family” situation. They truly do not seem like actors, but actual individuals captured on film leading painfully real lives.

Zheng Wei is a patient director, deliberately pacing Fish to evoke the mood and atmosphere of this remote corner of the Chinese desert. Yet, the film never seems to drag, even during a morning festival screening. It is an uncompromisingly naturalistic vision of contemporary China and the desperation of those struggling with the realities of everyday provincial Chinese life. It screens during the Tribeca Film Festival on April 29th, 30th, and May 1st.