WFA ’19: To Tokyo

Her name is Alice, which might be significant. Instead of Wonderland, she will be plunging a netherworld ruled by a sinister yōkai. However, the gravest forms of peril are the human kind in Caspar Seale-Jones’s To Tokyo, which screens today during this year’s Winter Film Awards.

Alice is not making the most of her time in Japan. Clearly suffering from deep, compounded trauma, she has effectively barricaded herself inside her small provincial hotel room. Yet, somehow, she manages to roust herself to briefly meet her half-sister Zoe at the station. Unfortunately, the half-sibling has come to implore Alice to return home before her ailing mother’s imminent death. The freshly prompted memories of home, particularly of her abusive step-father, will trigger Alice’s descent into a strange fantasy world.

Whether it is real (in a supernatural sense) or merely the projection of her fevered mind is a matter for each viewer’s interpretation. Regardless, this fantasyscape does not appear very Japanese, despite being ruled over by a yōkai lord. In fact, the yurts and steppe backdrops look Himalayan or Central Asian. It is a harsh environment, with little sustenance, but it might ironically be safer than Tokyo, where a suspicious westerner is eager to get reacquainted with Alice, after their chance encounter in the village.

To Tokyo might well be the sort of film that works better as a short than an extended feature. Even at seventy-five minutes, it often feels like it is belaboring the point. This is definitely supposed to be a deliberate mood piece, but it often feels slower than it should. Nevertheless, the technical craftsmanship is quite impressive. Cinematographer Ralph Messer lenses some striking images, dramatically utilizing the full frame. Editors Ashley Smith and Joseph Tims also cut his visuals together in quite a striking way.

Admittedly, Alice’s mental and physical health are supposed to be in a rather anemic state, but Florence Kosky is such a wispy, passive leading lady, she looks like she could blow away in a moderately strong wind. Likewise, Seale-Jones’s narrative is similarly thin and under-nourished. Frankly, this film will make viewers want to buy it a bowl of chicken soup.

In this case, a little more could have been a lot more. We can see what Seale-Jones is getting at. Clearly, the Japanese setting is not a mistake. Seale-Jones is definitely channeling traditional Kwaidan-esque supernatural folklore, as well as the overwhelming (and dehumanizing) ambiance of Shinjuku. This could have been something like a cross between Lost in Translation and Black Orpheus (without the soundtrack), but it should have had greater discipline. An intriguing first attempt at something, but not for general audiences, To Tokyo screens today (2/18) at the Cinema Village, as part of this year’s Winter Film Awards.

WFA ’19: Winter Ridge

This serial murderer could be called the “Slippery Slope” Killer. The unknown perp has been bumping off victims in the late stages of dementia, who probably wouldn’t mind going. Ralph Northam would probably call that keeping them comfortable. The case hits close to home for the detective investigating the case in Dom Lenoir’s Winter Ridge, which screens during this year’s Winter Film Awards.

Ryan Barnes stayed to file just one more report on the night of his anniversary, leaving his wife to drive home alone. Tragically, she was rendered comatose in an accident with Mike Evans, the town drunk and all-around belligerent jerk. Of course, Barnes had just kicked him loose a few hours before, because he was feeling generous.

Barnes keeps working to numb the guilt and pain, drawing a case involving suspicious heart-attacks suffered by age-addled victims. It seems they were all part of a support group led by Dr. Joanne Hill, whose members included the very same Evans. He was there because of his ailing granddaughter’s grim prognosis, but was not very popular with the other members.

That all sounds too convenient, doesn’t it? Frankly, Ridge could have used a few more characters, because there just aren’t any other suspects left by the time we get to the big supposed reveal. Indeed, Ridge is a rather workmanlike affair that might have been okay as an episode of a British procedural, but is hard pressed to justify its feature film status.

The one thing it really has going for it is an ensemble of first-rate British character actors. Perhaps the most recognizable face in Ridge is Alan Ford (whom we all surely know from Cockneys vs. Zombies) as Dale Jacobs, an artist and member of Hill’s group, who could very well be the next victim. Hannah Waddingham (who similarly elevated The Gatehouse) chews the scenery quite nicely as Dr. Hill, while Michael McKell barks orders and issues stern warnings like a champ as John Faulkner, Barnes’ commanding officer.

If you had to take the thumbnail above and sketch out a full narrative in less than thirty minutes, there is a good chance you would produce an outline that parallels Ross Owen Williams’ screenplay, beat for beat. That makes it a bit of a disappointment, but Anglophiles will still enjoy watching pros like Ford and McKell do their thing. Better suited for streaming, Winter Ridge screens this afternoon (2/17) at Cinema Village, as part of the 2019 Winter Film Awards.

WFA ’19: Baby Won’t You Please Come Home (short)

You know the title standard must be a bluesy torch-song, because it was first popularized by Bessie Smith and subsequently covered by Billie Holiday, Sarah Vaughan, and Julie London. Pearl Simmons also recorded it, but the homecoming part probably had more personal resonance for her than the wayward man. Sadly, she no longer performs, presumably in part because her faculties are slowly slipping away in Christopher Piazza’s short film Baby Won’t You Please Come Home, which screens during the 2019 Winter Film Awards.

Simmons and her contractor husband always took pride and pleasure in the elegant home they purchased and fully restored in an affluent neighborhood. Over the years, it was their source of security. Unfortunately, he passed three years ago. She misses him during her moments of lucidity, but Simmons is getting increasingly lost in her memories. She is also losing time, growing ever more forgetful, and confusing past and present. Her grown daughter Cynthia fully recognizes the problem, but her determination to protect and manage her mother might no longer be realistic.

Viewers can be confident the music in Baby is legit, because young Simmons is played by rising star jazz vocalist Jazzmeia Horn, who is backed by real deal jazz musicians like Andrew Gutauskas on baritone saxophone (a somewhat unusual choice for a singer’s combo, but it sounds great) and Steve Einerson or Adam Birnbaum on piano. Simmons’ choice of repertoire also rather surprisingly leans towards the traditional. In addition to “Baby Won’t You Please Come Home,” she also performs a powerful “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” and a very nice “I’ll See You in My Dreams” (an Isham Jones tune).

Piazza nicely uses scenes of the younger singer at the peak of her performance powers as a counterpart to the older, somewhat impaired Simmons. Horn really does not have much to do from a dramatic standpoint, but she undeniably commands the stage. On the other hand, Michelle Hurst is quite poignant, in a heartbreakingly realistic way as the contemporary Simmons.

Baby would pair up quite nicely with Richie Adams’ feature film, Of Mind and Music, both in terms of their respective themes and musical content. The music swings, but Piazza also portrays the challenges of dementia and care-giving with sensitivity and empathy. Recommended for jazz patrons and fans of senior-focused dramas like Iris and On Gold Pond, Baby Won’t You Please Come Home screens tonight (2/16) and Tuesday afternoon (2/19), as part of this year’s Winter Film Awards.