Tribeca ’11: Underwater Love

Adult film was never so endearing. It is from Japan, you see. So-called Japanese Pinku Eiga or story-driven softish-core has earned its share of international fans and many of its leading stars and directors have crossed over into the mainstream. Just in time for Holy Week, Shinji Imaoka’s pinku-musical-crossover mash-up, Underwater Love debuted yesterday at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival, very definitely as a late night Cinemania selection.

Kappas are legendary Japanese water spirits, roughly humanoid in form, with turtle features. They live in water and must keep their scalps wet at all times. It seems Asuka’s long deceased high school classmate Aoki has become such a creature. Bored with life in the river, he would like to hang with Asuka for a while and do human stuff. This is a little awkward for her though, since she is engaged to her boss at the fish factory, not mention Aoki’s beak and tortoiseshell. However, Aoki is not simply looking for a good time. He came back to save his true love.

There is no getting around the adult nature of Underwater, but longtime Wong Kar-wai cinematographer Christopher Doyle gives it instant hipster art-house credibility (and a pleasing dream-like sheen). Yet, Sawa Masaki really supplies the film’s heart with her effervescent screen presence. Based on her charming turn in Underwater, she deserves to crossover to the mainstream.

As for Underwater, folks are probably wondering if there is any red hot human-turtle creature love. Oh yes, plenty. How about energetically goofy musical numbers? Affirmative. The Angel of Death appearing as a dirty smelly hippy? Present and accounted for. Considering how much Underwater has to offer, it might not simply be the finest motion picture ever produced, it could be the single greatest artistic achievement in the history of humanity.

Do I exaggerate? Perhaps a tad, for effect. The truth is Underwater represents the high-end of a distinctly Japanese movie genre. Though not to all tastes, Pinku Eiga has been the thin edge of the wedge for many fans who now love Japanese cinema of all stripes. It is part of a rich and occasionally strange cultural tradition that has enriched the world.

Of course, Japan is now experiencing profound challenges in the wake of the earthquake and tsunami. While Hollywood and the current administration evidently could not be bothered to take any meaningful constructive action, private citizens can support our Japanese friends and allies by contributing to the Red Cross' efforts here or the Japan Society’s relief fund here. Indeed, the eccentric yet laidback Underwater will definitely put viewers in an appreciative frame of mind when it screens again during this year’s Tribeca Film Festival tonight (4/23), Wednesday (4/27) and Thursday (4/28).

Tribeca ’11: Revenge of the Electric Car

In Terminator 2, the villain of the previous film comes back as the hero of the sequel. Such is also the case with Chris Paine’s latest film, except it is a documentary. The freshly reformed protagonist? General Motors. The times just might be changing after all in Paines’ Revenge of the Electric Car (trailer here), which premiered last night at the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

According to Paine's Who Killed the Electric Car, despite positive driver feedback, GM recalled their experimental EV-1, while twisting its mustache and laughing maniacally. Instead, they ramped up production on Hummers. The end, or is it? Fast-forward a few years and meet Bob Lutz, the Vice Chairman of the automotive giant. The car executive’s car executive, Lutz is no tree-hugger. Yet, like Saul on the road to Damascus, Lutz fundamentally changed his mind about the feasibility and desirability of electric cars. Only Lutz has the prestige to put GM back in the electric business and the guts to allow their old nemesis to document it.

Revenge has other protagonists, like Elon Musk, the tech-centric entrepreneur, who made his fortune with Pay Pal before starting Tesla Motors. Sleek and striking, these sports cars are probably too elite to change the world, but they ought to make electric cool. Unfortunately, Musk has trouble filling customer orders (including Paine’s). As more mass market competition, Nissan chairman Carlos Ghosn has “bet the future” of his company on electric, but that shoe has yet to drop.

It is important to note, none of these ventures are the result of government mandates. Indeed, they are highly speculative ventures that might just short circuit careers and fortunes. To his credit, Paine himself gives due credit to the captains of industry and entrepreneurs of Revenge. Though he retracts nothing from his previous film, it is clear he and pre-government takeover GM made a lasting peace.

Of course, Bob Lutz is a major reason why. Although Paine probably has a naturally affinity for the Silicon Valley-based Musk, Lutz’s curmudgeonly charm dominates the film. The camera loves the cigar chomping old school executive far more than the icy Ghosn or the cerebral Musk. (While Revenge eventually addresses the government bail-out, most of the GM segments deal with Lutz’s early championing of the hitherto underwhelming Volt.)

The open-minded fairness Paine brings to bear on an industry he formerly excoriated is quite remarkable. Still, the film raises a few questions that remain unanswered. Granted, it would certainly be advantageous to see electric cars displace a number of gas guzzlers, particularly in light of the Obama Administration’s war on domestic off-shore drilling and contentment to import petroleum from hostile governments, like Venezuela. However, is there sufficient infrastructure in place to support them? New York apartment dwellers, for whom alternate-side parking is an eternal fact of life, might be the most inclined to switch to electric cars, but would they be able to charge them? For that matter, electricity is not magically supplied. Could the state of California, which experienced roving “Gray-Outs” in the early 2000’s, handle a significant increase in demand? Paine well might argue the marketplace can respond to these challenges, in which case perhaps Lutz was not the only one to experience a conversion of Biblical proportions.

In a pleasant surprise, Revenge is probably the most favorable depiction of corporate and entrepreneurial America seen in a documentary since who knows when? Again, Paine deserves his just due. As a result, he will probably spread the electric car gospel to previously unreceptive audiences. He certainly makes a star of Lutz (so it is a shame the current administration does not want him involved in “Government Motors”). Informative and engaging, Revenge screens again at the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival today (4/23), Wednesday (4/27), and next Saturday (4/30).

Tribeca ’11: The Assault

It was France’s Entebbe. In what is often referred to as “the most successful anti-terrorist operation in history” (at least among those not involving the Israelis), French commandos stormed an airliner hijacked by Algerian Islamist terrorists on Christmas Eve. The hijackers had no intention of negotiating. Their plan was to crash Air France 8969 into the Eifel Tower. The year was 1994. The missed lessons are painfully obvious. In a case of France eating Hollywood’s lunch, Julien Leclercq vividly dramatizes the historic raid in The Assault (trailer here), which screens at the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

The Algerian terrorists were Islamic and they never let their captives forget it. As soon as they secured the plane, Abdul Abdullah Yahia and his accomplices forced all the women to cover-up with makeshift head scarves. The French being French, they first tried to appease GIA terrorists. Not surprisingly, the Islamist GIA was not interested in a payoff. They were hoping to make a big statement instead. Fortunately, they were delayed so long in Algiers (where the Algerians refused to remove the gangway stairs from the airliners, yet perversely denied permission for the French GIGN SWAT team to operate in-country), Flight 8969 was forced to stop for refueling in Marseilles.

Considering the film is called The Assault, it is not much of a spoiler to say the GIGN eventually board the plane. However, there is nothing video game-like about the film’s centerpiece action sequence. This is close quarters combat, vividly depicted as a distinctly violent, claustrophobic, confusing, and messy proposition. Tense and scrupulously realistic, these scenes are unlike anything peddled by recent antiseptic Hollywood action movies.

Reportedly, the terrorists were even more sadist than they are portrayed in Assault. Of course, there are understandable limits to what a commercial release can bear (particularly in France). To his credit, Leclercq and co-screenwriter Simon Moutairou never try to ameliorate the terrorists’ crimes with sympathetic back-stories. Instead, they show them executing hostages in cold blood. Frankly, the GIA as seen in Assault can only be described as hateful savages.

Assault’s one weakness is the rather cookie-cutter characterization of the GIGN officers. Viewers only glimpse the private life of Thierry, a family man wrestling with his conscience after his previous assignment. The rest are essentially interchangeable. However, Mélanie Bernier makes a strong impression as Carole Jeanton, an ambitious Interior Ministry bureaucrat, who goes from Chamberlain-esque appeaser to a Churchillian advocate for an armed response to terror in about thirty seconds flat. Maybe it was the guns pointed at her.

The Assault is the sort of action film Hollywood ought to be producing at regular clip, but refuses to do so for petty ideological reasons. Still, though the GIGN emerges as the film’s heroes, the French government takes quite a few lumps. Recreating an important historical incident with grit and tick-tock precision, Leclercq’s Assault is easily one of the best selections at this year’s Tribeca. It screens again tonight (4/23), tomorrow (4/24), and Thursday (4/28).

Tribeca ’11: Braid (short)

Kids focus on the most superficial things. Ting is a sweet-tempered, compassionate little girl, but her classmates zero-in on her sloppy braids. It is not her fault though. Her grieving father Jie is not used to tying them. Nor does he have the heart to explain her mother’s extended absence in Chun-Yi Hsieh’s short film Braid (trailer here), which screens as part of the Take As Directed shorts block at the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

One day, while being ignored by the kids playing in her neighborhood, Ting finds an abandoned kitten. Empathizing with the motherless feline, she takes it home with her. Her father is trying to care for her as best he can, but he is overwhelmed with grief. Unemployed with little prospects, the death of his wife was also a devastating financial blow. Things look truly bleak for them, but keep an eye on that kitten.

Chun-Yi Hsieh’s fifteen minute Braid is surprisingly moving, particularly for a student film. Sensitively helmed, the Taiwanese filmmaker deftly hints at the metaphysical with the conclusion to what is an otherwise starkly naturalistic work. Unquestionably though, the key to the film is the remarkably poignant, completely convincing work of Jun-Jie Du as Ting. Scores of viewers will want to adopt her two or three minutes into the film.

Braid might be a simple story, but it is powerful in its honest directness, reaching deeper places than most smugly sentimental indies could ever hope to approach. Featuring truly memorable performances, the well conceived Braid is easily a stand-out among Tribeca’s shorts this year. Highly recommended, it screens during the Take As Directed program next Thursday (4/28), Saturday (4/30), and Sunday (5/1).

Tribeca ’11: A Quiet Life

Films like Matteo Garrone’s Gomorrah and Abel Ferrara’s Napoli Napoli Napoli will give you a pretty good idea why Rosario Russo left Naples. Frankly, the former gangster was part of the problem, but a spot of bother with his former colleagues prompted him to fake his death and abandon his family. Resettled as a provincial German inn-keeper, Rosario’s past catches up with him in Claudio Cupellini’s A Quiet Life (trailer here), which screens during the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

Russo is still a crack shot, but now he only kills wild game for his kitchen. He bickers with everyone, yet he enjoys his simple country life. However, when two Italian punks turn up asking for a room, Russo looks as if someone just walked over his grave. In a way, that is not far from the truth. Obviously the brains of the twosome, Diego also shares some significant history with Russo that most viewers will quickly assume, but is not formally revealed until about the film’s midway point. In contrast, his partner Edoardo is pretty much a numbskull, but he has surprising success putting the moves on Russo’s pretty waitress Doris.

Though Russo welcomes the opportunity to get reacquainted with Diego, his presence is a destabilizing influence in the household. Marking time much like the characters in Hemingway’s short story “The Killers,” Diego and Edoardo represent a constant threat of violence, which Russo recognizes only too well, yet cannot explain to his suspicious German wife Renate.

Much like his character, Russo, lead actor Toni Servillo has a chameleon-like ability to radically alter his look and mannerisms from film to film. Nothing like his tour-de-force performance as the stiffly sinister Prime Minister Giulio Andreotti in Il Divo, Servillo projects both virility and a sense of resignation as the haunted hotelier. Rather than cardboard cutout villains, Diego and Edoardo are multidimensional characters as well, rendered with nuance by Marco D’Amore and Francesco Di Leva, respectively.

While Cupellini’s pacing is more patient than breakneck, he keeps the tension cranked up quite effectively. Clearly, he is more interested in character exploration than genre thrills, but he never abandons the film’s thriller structure. An oddly meditative crime drama, Quiet is a pleasant surprise at this year’s Tribeca, well worth checking out when it screens today (4/22), tomorrow (4/23), and Sunday (4/24).

Tribeca ’11: Give Up Tomorrow

Class warfare can be ugly. When allowed access to power, it might be deadly. Just ask Paco Larrañaga. A perfect storm of sensational journalism and judicial-political malfeasance combined to rob him not just of his liberty, but perhaps even his life in Michael Collins’ documentary exposé Give Up Tomorrow (trailer here), which screens during the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

Larrañaga is an innocent man. Thirty-five of his teachers and classmates will testify he was nowhere near the island of Cebu when the Chong sisters disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Unfortunately, they never had an adequate opportunity to testify on Larrañaga’s behalf. Though just one of the so-called “Chiong Seven,” the media focused like a laser beam on Larrañaga, the son of the working middle class branch of the Kennedyesque Osmeña family. His trial was duly hyped up in explicit class warfare terms, creating a toxic environment for the defense.

Collins (with the close collaboration of producer Marty Syjuco, a distant relative of Larrañaga) picks the resulting kangaroo court apart like a skilled prosecutor. Right from his arrest, highly relevant information was deliberately disregarded by the police and prosecution, including the Chiong father’s close ties to reputed drug kingpin Peter Lim, whom he was scheduled to testify against the day after his daughters’ disappearance.

It seems Cebu is a small world after all, when Collins reveals several of the investigating officers also had ties to Lim. Indeed, they provide some of the most obvious lying ever seen on film when Collins grills them about their initial investigation. However, the Chiong sisters’ mother, Thelma, might be the most problematic figure in this scandal, ruthlessly exploiting her personal connections to the president at the time, the thoroughly corrupt populist (a redundancy, perhaps) Joseph Estrada, to pillory Larrañaga and his codefendants in the collusive media.

On one level, Tomorrow is a simple story: Larrañaga was railroaded for a crime he did not commit. Yet, the case developed a series of bizarre twists and turns that Collins follows with remarkable clarity. Ironies truly abound when Larrañaga, a dual citizen as the son of a Spanish national, turns to the former colonial power as a last resort. Yet, the film preserves a sense of suspense regarding Larrañaga’s ultimate fate.

To Collins’ credit, he periodically reminds viewers there are still two young women missing, tragically presumed dead. Wisely, he also readily stipulates Larrañaga’s history of run-of-the-mill delinquency. As a result, viewers never feel manipulated.

Frankly, after watching Tomorrow, it is impossible to maintain any pretense of uncertainty regarding Larrañaga’s innocence. In contrast, the Filipino legal system stands indicted on multiple charges of corruption, incompetence, and sheer abuse of power. One of the few documentaries alleging a miscarriage of justice that is fully one hundred percent convincing, Tomorrow should provoke outrage throughout the Philippines (and Spain). Co-produced by ITVS, Tomorrow is likely to find its way to PBS eventually, but for now, it is highly recommended at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival, where it screens tomorrow (4/23), Monday (4/25), Wednesday (4/27), and Friday (4/29).

Tribeca ’11: L’Amour Fou

In Olivier Assayas’s wistful and sophisticated Summer Hours, a family reluctantly sells off their late father’s remarkable collection to pay the punishing French estate taxes. At times it is a difficult process, because every object has a special significance. Such would seem to be the case with the Saint Laurent-Bergé collection. After the death of his famous designer lover, Pierre Bergé decided to auction off the extraordinary art and decorative objects they had amassed together. Unfortunately, Pierre Thoretton forgets his own hook in the disappointingly run of the mill documentary profile L’Amour Fou (trailer here), which screens during the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

L’Amour starts with archival footage of Yves Saint Laurent’s 2002 retirement speech, which might have been an epochal event in fashion history, but often sounds maddeningly circuitous to philistine ears. We then watch as Bergé starts preparing for the so-called “auction of the century.” Yet despite serving as the film’s framing device, Thoretton shows little interest in the individual items in the collection and what they might represent. Surely, every piece has a story, but we never hear, aside from the occasional offhand comment. Instead, Thoretton concentrates on Saint Laurent’s life story.

Of course, this is a perfectly respectable, if conventional approach, to his subject. However, YSL’s life simply does not hold a lot of surprises, at least as chronicled by Thoretton, relying heavily on Bergé’s reminiscences. Through hard work, he was able to make a name for himself as young man. Over the years, he and Bergé maintained a close relationship, despite the couturier’s partying and infidelities. Though he was a spectacular success, he was periodically plagued with bouts of depression, yet persevered until he sensed it was time to bow out gracefully. Frankly, viewers might have guessed as much, even if they do not follow the fashion world.

When the collection starts selling at auction, it is clearly supposed to L’Amour’s big finish. Yet, since we know next to nothing about the individual pieces or how they were acquired, the process ultimately means little to viewers. These are not Matisses and Brancusis the unsentimental Bergé is selling, they are widgets with lot numbers.

For those looking for a general film biography of YSL, L’Amour generally fits the bill. Thoretton clearly had intimate access to Bergé, easily the most important figure in the designer’s life. Though there is nothing objectionable in the film, there hardly seems to be a pressing need for it, given David Teboul’s generally well-received documentaries covered much the same ground, only missing his final four or five post-retirement years. Very much a straight off the rack film, L’Amour screens at Tribeca this coming Tuesday (4/26), Thursday (4/28), and Friday (4/29).

Tribeca ’11: Cinema Komunisto

It was a country that never really existed with an economic system that never ever worked. Obviously, Communist Yugoslavia needed constant distractions. Avala, the now decrepit Yugoslav state film studio responded with a constant stream of propaganda pictures, varying widely in quality. Mila Turajlic revisits the films and filmmakers who brought Tito’s version of reality to Yugoslavia’s movie-houses in Cinema Komunisto (trailer here), which screens during the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

It was good to be the Marshal. A lifelong film buff, Josip Broz Tito had a private screening almost every night of his reign. Unlike other Communist strongmen, he enjoyed Hollywood films as well as the Avala productions he took such an active interest in. According to his personal projectionist, one of his favorite actors was none other than John Wayne. He probably appreciated the Duke’s World War II films.

Indeed, the war was nearly ubiquitous in his state propaganda pictures. According to actor Bata Zivojinovic, many of his films simply consisted of him killing Germans from beginning to end. While not exactly ambitious, there is something to be said for the red meat approach. However, Avala also produced some legitimate prestige pictures, including the epic Battle of Neretva, featuring major stars from the West, including Yul Brynner, Orson Welles, and the Zagreb-born Sylva Koscina. A darling on the international festival circuit, Pablo Picasso was convinced to create the film’s poster.

Neretva was not an aberration. Western studios co-financed several productions with Avala and shot a number of films on location in Yugoslavia, often because of the country’s ready supply of vintage WWII era military hardware and their willingness to blow it up when required by the script. The Hollywood-Avala connection arguably reached its pinnacle when Richard Burton agreed to play Tito in the first sanctioned bio-picture of the soon to be declared President-for-Life. (With Elizabeth Taylor in tow, he looks distinctly woozy in vintage publicity footage unearthed by Turajlic.)

Komunisto is a fascinating film, but it is important to recognize its limits. Unlike the instructive press notes, Turajlic focuses exclusively on the Avala studio and its state-sanctioned films. The so-called “Black Wave” movement of dissident filmmakers will have to wait for their own documentary. Since nearly everyone interviewed was associated with Avala or the Marshal, they are usually rather circumspect in their criticism of the old regime, if not outright worshipful.

While the Polish and then Czechoslovakian film industries were arguably more accomplished, they also produced more significant troublemakers, like Andrzej Wajda and Vojtrech Jasny. Still, Komunisto makes a strong case for a systematic reissue program of the Avala catalogue, starting with the full theatrical version of Neretva. Largely skirting wider political and historical issues in favor of safer cinematic terrain, Komunisto is still one of the more engaging and informative documentaries at this year’s Tribeca. It screens tonight (4/21), Saturday (4/23), Monday (4/25), and Wednesday (4/27) in lower Manhattan.

Tribeca ’11: Point Blank

Don’t call it a discovery. Hollywood has already come calling French director Fred Cavayé. Unfortunately, it was Paul Haggis who remade his debut feature as The Next Three Days, but it still counts. He might have knocked the wind out of James Bond, but the jinxed former Scientologist should not derail Cavayé based on his sophomore outing, Point Blank (trailer here), which screens at the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival kicking off today.

Scheduled to hit American theaters in earnest a few months from now, Blank is notable as one of two films at Tribeca starring Gilles Lellouche. A complete change-up from the predatory financier of Cédric Klapisch’s My Piece of the Pie, Lellouche makes a credible wrongly accused everyman in the Hitchcockian tradition. However, the film really belongs to Roschdy Zem as Hugo Sartet, the stone-cold safe-cracker who inadvertently pulls Lellouche’s innocent nurse’s assistant into a major criminal conspiracy.

Quietly intense and smoothly charismatic, Zem makes a killer noir anti-hero. As Sartet, he truly exemplifies screen presence. Overdue for breakout international stardom after memorable appearances in Outside the Law and The Girl from Monaco, Blank might finally settle the matter.

Cavayé also earns breakout props for Blank. Tightly paced and sharply executed, he has helmed quite an agile thriller, while also showing the occasional flash of mordant wit. He also demonstrates a rare talent for choreographing near riot scenes, deftly balancing the mass chaos with the need to show the characters’ action with clarity.

There will be plenty more written about Blank in the future, but for now it is safe to say it is one of the more satisfying selections at Tribeca this year. Highly recommended, it screens during the festival this Saturday (4/23), Monday (4/25), and Wednesday (4/27).

Tribeca ’11: Romantics Anonymous

Chocolate is the food of romance and indulgence. Two social misfits still love it anyway. They might just love each other too, if they can psyche themselves up enough to take a chance. That will be a very big “if” in Jean-Pierre Améris’ Romantics Anonymous (trailer here), which screens during the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

Angélique Delange is a gifted chocolatier, but she is paralyzed with shyness. Through sheer force of will, she manages to apply for a job at a down-market chocolate company, run by the gruff but ragingly insecure Jean-René Van Den Hugde. Sensing a fellow chocolate devotee, Van Den Hudge hires her on the spot. Unfortunately, it is for a sales position she is spectacularly unsuited for. Having accepted already, Delange tries to timidly carry on as best she can. Eventually though, Delange realizes she most use her true talents to save the floundering company.

Working under a veil of secrecy, Delange once made confections that delighted French gourmets. However, when her protective boss died, the secret of his chocolatier “hermit” died with him. Yet, resurrecting the old hermit cover proves relatively easy. Going on a date with the boss is devilishly difficult, for both of them.

Like chocolate, Anonymous is sweet film with a hint of bitterness to make it real. While everyone plays it for laughs, Améris and co-writer Philippe Blasband never minimize the challenges of the would-be couples’ extreme social awkwardness. They are not portrayed as freaks or loons, but as people who need a little more encouragement to come out of their shells (granted though, Van Den Hugde certainly has his eccentricities).

Benoît Poelvoorde (probably still best known for the creepy Man Bites Dog) is fantastic as Van Den Hugde, showing an aptitude for broad comedy while keeping the character totally grounded. Likewise, as Delange, Isabelle Carré engagingly projects both a brittle vulnerability and an arresting innocence.

Combining elements of food porn with the underdog romantic comedy, Anonymous is one of the most commercial international selections at Tribeca this year. Sensitively helmed by Améris, it is a completely satisfying film, giving the audience what we want (even if it is predictable on some level). A real charmer, Anonymous screens this Saturday (4/23), Monday (4/25), Tuesday (4/26), and the following Saturday (4/30) as part of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

Tribeca ’11: Rabies

A country surrounded by homicidal maniacs probably does not have much need for horror movies. Perhaps that is why it took over sixty years for the Israeli film industry to produce its first slasher film. It was worth the wait. Considerably more inventive than the genre standard, Navot Papushado and Aharon Kashales’ Rabies (trailer here) is a highlight of the Cinemania (formerly Midnight) selections at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

A funny thing happened on the way to the tennis match. A car thick with sexual tension breaks down in a secluded forest. All three of Shir’s teammates (two guys and a girl, Adi) seem have a thing for her. Their lingering jealousies and resentments continue roiling below the surface, but the quartet face more pressing problems, like the twitchy dude they find covered in blood.

Ofer and his sister Tali were running away from home for scandalous reasons implied but never outright stated when she fell into a Hannibal Lecter-worthy mantrap. Obviously, this was no hunting accident. Having the drop on Ofer, the psycho responsible bloodies him up good, but not good enough. Waking in the morning, Ofer starts tearing through the forest in search of his dear sister, running straight into the four lost tennis players.

Unfortunately, when they call the cops, no good deed goes unpublished. Emasculated and humiliated by his presumably ex-girlfriend, Danny is sort of the good cop. Yuval on the other hand, is definitely the bad cop. A raging misogynist with simmering class resentments and well documented anger management issues, his only interest is in sexually harassing Shir. With the guys off wandering through the forest with Ofer, Adi goes Thelma & Louise on the creepy copper. Things get bloody from there.

Though billed as a slasher movie, Rabies is almost more closely akin to the Final Departure series. While not as Rube Goldbergian, Papushado and Kashales create a twisted environment (including a poorly marked minefield), where murder and mayhem inexorably result from the diabolical events they set in motion. Yes, there definitely is a psycho killer out there, but he disappears for long stretches of time.

Rabies is quite tightly executed (so to speak), relying on slam-bang timing to keep the one-darned-thing-after-another bedlam proceeding in an orderly fashion. Though mostly played for bloody thrills, Papushado and Kashales also occasionally throw in sardonic one-liners worthy of the Scream franchise.

At least one consistently redeeming character can be found in these woods: Menashe, a poor luckless park ranger played with everyman likability by Menashe Noy. In contrast, Ania Bukstein is a dynamic presence as the assertive Adi, while Yael Grobglas is appropriately decorative as Shir. Following up his smartly understated turn in Restoration, Henry David is again quite compelling as Ofer, arguably the film’s most anguished and complicated character.

Considering how many anti-Israeli Israeli films are picked up for American distribution, it is a pleasure to such a resolutely nonpolitical representative of the nation’s film industry. A nifty little blood-spattered psycho thriller, Rabies is consistently entertaining. Recommended for hardcore and casual genre enthusiasts alike, it screens tomorrow (4/21), Wednesday (4/27), Thursday (4/28), and Friday (4/29), with select internet viewing opportunities available (free, but reservations are required) as part of the festival’s online component.

Tribeca ’11: My Piece of the Pie

Steve Delarue is a financial shark. France Leroi is a single mother, who is laid-off when her factory abruptly closes (but what a name she has). The former is so obviously the villain and the latter is so clearly the victim, we can surely put our brains on auto-pilot. Yet, Cédric Klapisch’s latest film is surprisingly more interesting than that (perhaps unintentionally so, but it still counts). Drawing on three year-old headlines, Klapisch tells a messy morality tale in My Piece of the Pie (trailer here), which screens during the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

France Leroi is indeed a victim. That is not a subjective judgment; it is the essence of her identity. A union worker thrown out of work by her factory’s financial collapse, she attempts suicide during a birthday party, with her home filled with children. Fortunately, she soon recovers, leaving Dunkirk to seek employment in Paris. Through a friend of a friend, she lands a gig working as the cleaning lady for Steve Delarue, a Bonfire of the Vanities style Master of the Universe recently returned to France the country after a long stint in London. Delarue is the kind of guy who administers the death knell to struggling enterprises, like Leroi’s former employer. In fact, unbeknownst to Leroi, he was exactly that guy.

Delarue dates supermodels, but treats them little better than servants like Leroi. Not surprisingly, he is terrible father material, but fortunately Leroi is there when Delarue’s three year-old son Alban is dumped in his lamp. In fact, as she assumes the duties of a nanny, employer and employee start to warm towards each other. However, a perceived betrayal launches Leroi on a reckless course of action.

Throughout the film, we are conditioned to perceive Leroi as the exploited and Delarue as the exploiter. Yet, her emotional reactions in the closing sequence and the final unsettling freeze frame raise a host of nagging doubts. We have essentially seen the entire film from Leroi’s POV, but is she necessarily reliable? She attempted suicide at time that would maximize the resulting drama and attention. Could this be significant? We forgive her for committing such a rash criminal action late in the film, because it is not premeditated and surely she is not a dangerous person, but should we? Whether by accident or design, Klapisch leaves viewers re-evaluating everything they just witnessed and how they responded to it. That is certainly a rare place for a film to go.

As Leroi, Karin Viard exhibits a frightening hold on the audience, forcefully carrying us through her emotional roller-coaster. Though he scrupulously maintains Delarue’s “all business” exterior, Gilles Lellouche hints at hidden complexity, which is critically important as the film progresses. British character actor Tim Pigott-Smith also adds a memorable dash of Gekko-esque color as Delarue’s English pseudo-mentor, Mr. Brown.

Make no mistake, Klapisch clearly suggests there is more dignity and value working on a factory floor than in high finance. However, Pie is too complicated and nuanced to serve as reductive propaganda. This is a good thing. Terrible as an economics lesson but fascinating as cinema, Pie is definitely worth checking out at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival, when it screens this Sunday (4/24), Monday (4/25), Thursday (4/28), and Saturday (4/30).

Tribeca ’11: Beats, Rhymes & Life

If not necessarily the road not taken, A Tribe Called Quest definitely represents a road less traveled for hip-hop. Influenced by jazz and African musical forms whilst largely eschewing the nihilism of gangster rap in favor of a more spiritual message, ATCQ achieved a level of critical acclaim unusual for hip-hop, yet still maintained their grassroots popularity. Alas, it would not last forever. Indeed, actor-turned-director Michael Rapaport unflinchingly records the band’s break-up in his up-close-and-personal documentary, Beats, Rhymes & Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest, which screens at the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

Despite sitting for many interviews and allowing backstage access to Rapaport’s crew, the very vocal Q-Tip has reportedly since turned against the project. It is hard to understand why though. As backstage conflict goes, ATCQ’s is pretty tame stuff. Indeed, there’s nothing Charlie Sheen-worthy to be witnessed in the film. As seen through Rapaport’s cameras, their break-up appears to be largely attributable to the stress of Phife Dog’s health issues and the inevitable resentments bred by long period of familiarity. Frankly, as behind-the-music profiles go, BRL makes ATCQ look pretty together and down-to-earth.

After beginning at the apparent end, Rapaport rewinds to the beginning, giving a brisk overview of the band’s history. Signed for what was then an unprecedented advance in the hip hop world, ATCQ was under pressure to deliver from the start, but that was not a problem. The early years were glory years, both in terms of music and sales. Perhaps the group reached its artistic high-water mark when collaborating with De La Soul in the egoless super-group Native Tongue.

Throughout their tenure, ATCQ had a rep as a musician’s hip-hop group. Not surprisingly, the best moments of BRL capture a sense of the group’s grounding in jazz and soul. A committed crate-digger, Q-Tip in particular emerges as an authority on vintage soul jazz LPs, like (Dr.) Lonnie Smith’s Drive, which he famously sampled and discusses at length in the film.

While opinion amongst ATCQ seems decidedly mixed, BRL will hardly damage their legacy. It is rather more likely to strengthen their reputation as the thinking man’s hip-hop group. Though a snip here or there would not have been the end of the world, the animated sequences created by James Blagden & Phillip Niemeyer and the original incidental soundtrack by Madlib tie it all together in a solid, frequently entertaining package. Well put together and only occasionally voyeuristic, BRL was a standout hit at Sundance, definitely recommended at this year’s Tribeca, when it screens next Wednesday (4/27) and Thursday (4/28).

Tribeca '11: Free Events

Launched in 2002 to help revitalize a Lower Manhattan still reeling from the September 11th terrorist attack, the Tribeca Film Festival has become one of the most influential stops on the world festival circuit. Deals will be made, tickets will be bought, and money will most definitely be spent. However, for New Yorkers on a budget (which is most of the City, given the ever deepening recession), Tribeca offers plenty of free programming to enjoy this year, but plan to arrive early. After all, many of the festival’s regular ticketed screenings have already sold out.

There will indeed be free movies, screened at the so-called drive-in at the World Financial Center Plaza. Patrons arriving early enough this Thursday will have a chance to experience Tribeca’s first ever talent completion and then watch a revival screening of Fame (the good one). The drive-in continues Friday night (4/22) with a screening of When the Drum is Beating, a profile of Haiti’s leading Caribbean-Jazz fusion ensemble, Septentrional, followed by a special performance by the band themselves. It concludes with the family friendly but New York-centric Muppets Take Manhattan. Doors open each night at 6:00, with the screenings commencing at dusk (8:15, give or take).

Continuing the festival’s long association with ESPN, Tribeca and the leading sports programmer will present a special “Sports Day” on Saturday the 30th. Featuring New York Knicks, including Riles-era fan favorite John Starks, members of the Brooklyn Cyclones, and the cast of Broadway’s Lombardi, there will be plenty of giveaways, mini-clinics, and family activities.

Of course, Tribeca is first and foremost about film, so parents should keep in mind the free, first-come, first-served screenings held at BMCC Performing Arts Center in conjunction with Tribeca’s Family Street Fair, also happening on the 30th. Tribeca will present a special first look at Niko: the Journey to Magika, an animated adventure set in the Philippines. Perhaps most appropriately given the festival’s origins, Tribeca will also present free of charge fourteen year-old Brook Peter’s debut documentary The Second Day, in which the former World Trade Center neighborhood kindergartner interviews his teachers, classmates, and rescue personnel about their experiences on that tragic day.

Tribeca is truly a New York event that transcends film. Founded to boost the community, the festival offers opportunities for average New Yorkers to enjoy the Tribeca experience, without breaking their budgets. The 2011 Tribeca Film Festival opens tonight and runs through May 1st. For more information about free events and regularly ticketed festival screenings, go to their website: http://www.tribecafilm.com/.

Tribeca ’11: Grandma, a Thousand Times

Now a place synonymous with violence and discord, Beirut was once the high-spirited party spot of the Middle East. Teta Fatima’s late husband was one of the reasons the good times were so good. Not just the love of her life, he was also an accomplished violinist who accompanied many of Beirut’s top vocalists. Though he has been gone twenty years, it is clear he is never far from her thoughts when she reminisces to the filmmaker grandson who bears his name in Mahmoud Kaabour’s Grandma, a Thousand Times (trailer here), which has a special “Tribeca Talks” screening and panel discussion presentation during the upcoming 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

After raising six children, Teta Fatima now spends most of her days smoking Argileh and drinking coffee. She is still sharp as a tack though and very definitely a force within her tightly knit community in Beirut’s old quarter. Recognizing her advancing years, Kaabour set out to record his grandmother’s wisdom and experiences for posterity. Naturally, his namesake was a frequent topic of conversation. In fact, he led their interviews in this direction by playing a tape of his grandfather’s violin improvisations, recorded in their very apartment, for his grandmother.

Indeed, there is some lovely music in Thousand, which also boasts some inventive graphics. The two together arguably produced the coolest opening and closing credit sequences of this year’s festival. The film also has a sly sense of humor that seems to be the equal product of the director and his grandmother subject.

In truth, Thousand is far more engaging than its modest premise might suggest. For all we know, Teta Fatima and Kaabour might share many of the unsavory opinions rife on the “Arab street,” but they wisely avoid politics throughout the film. At only forty-eight minutes, it is a relatively short selection, but a sweet and stylish one (a rare but welcome combination). Wistful and elegant, it is one of the real surprise pleasures at Tribeca this year. Highly recommended, it screens next Monday (4/25) at the SVA Silas Theater.

Tribeca ’11: Black Butterflies

Ingrid Jonker was on the right side of history. Unfortunately, she was nearly impossible to live with. Often dubbed the “South African Sylvia Plath,” her Afrikaans verse passionately condemned Apartheid, but her inner demons would eventually prove fatal. Though undeniably a symbol of white South African dissent, Jonker’s deep emotional turmoil trumps the social strife of her times in Paula van der Oest’s bio-drama, Black Butterflies (trailer here), which screens at the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival.

Jonker and her father were never close, nor did they ever agree on much. It was only after the death of her guardian grandmother that Jonker met the father whom her late mother had walked away from just before her birth. While even as a child she exhibited precocious poetic talent, Abraham Jonker served as a hardline state censor. Clearly, conflict between them would be inevitable.

Conversely, the novelist Jack Cope would look like an excellent match for Jonker, at least on paper. Both were liberal Afrikaans writers with children who were in the process of divorcing their spouses. They certainly meet under fortuitous circumstances, when Cope saves her from drowning. Indeed, they quickly become an item, but it is not long before Jonker’s erratic behavior undermines their relationship. Needy does not begin to describe it, nor does faithfulness.

While Cope adamantly ends their affair, he stops short of cutting ties altogether. In fact, it is the novelist and a mutual literary friend who package Jonker’s breakthrough collection while she is institutionalized. Through their efforts, her poem “The Dead Child of Nyanga” (which Mandela would eventually read at his inauguration) is published and duly censored (by her father).

Rather than revisiting Apartheid era non-controversies yet again, Butterflies is much more a portrait of the artist as profoundly disturbed woman. Yet, this is actually quite a legitimate biographical-cinematic strategy. While the film provides plenty of reminders of Apartheid’s unjust nature, its depiction of Jonker’s mental illness is often quite harrowing and more visceral. It is also arguably far more relevant for contemporary audiences.

Carice van Houten gives a truly brave performance, portraying a cultural icon coming apart at the seams. Frequently self-destructive and often unsympathetic, it hardly constitutes hagiography, but it is true to her troubled life. However, the real lynchpin of the film is Liam Cunningham’s rock solid turn as Cope, making him a fully-dimensional flesh-and-blood human being. Though we can anticipate the tragedy that will result, we can never blame him for ending his involvement with Jonker. Frankly, it is hard to see any what else he could have done under the circumstances. While Cope benefits from Cunningham’s nuance, Rutger Hauer plays Abraham Jonker as a stone cold villain, but in his defense, this seems to essentially match the historical record.

Despite its serious subject matter, Butterflies never feels preachy, thanks to van der Oest’s intimate focus. Though certainly celebrating Jonker's artistic integrity, the film never whitewashes the tragic nature of her life. Several cuts above standard bio-pic fare, Buterflies is definitely worth seeing when it screens at Tribeca this coming Saturday (4/23), Sunday (4/24), Tuesday (4/26), and Friday (4/29).

Tribeca ’11: Saint

In Holland, Santa is not the same jolly old elf. He has his menacing “Black Peter” sidekicks, who are supposedly from Spain, but hardly seem politically correct. Every thirty-two years, Sinterklaas also perpetrates a massacre on the eve of his Saint’s day (December 6th). This December 5th, Amsterdam is due for one of those nights in Dick Maas’s Saint (trailer here), which screens as a Cinemania selection during this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

It all goes back to 1500, when a band of Dutch villagers rose up against a marauding bishop and his henchmen. A bit of frontier justice, a curse, and five hundred-some years later, Frank is dumped by his girlfriend in spectacularly public fashion. However, this hardly discourages the horny high schooler. He was surreptitiously seeing her best friend behind her back anyway. Even if she is not quite ready to go public, this is December 5th. Every year he hits the party scene hard as Sinterklaas with his running mates decked out as Black Peters. Unfortunately, someone dressed in red robes and a miter has been killing kids throughout the city. Guess who fits that description. With the help of Goert, a bitter cop obsessed with the killer cleric, Frank sets out to break the cycle of terror and clear his name.

Saint understand how and when to go over the top effectively. Never excessively gruesome, it has the subversive sensibility promised but not delivered by Jalmari Helandar’s Rare Exports. The phantasmagorical special effects are also quite credible and the cinematography of Guido van Gennep (whose credits include the artfully sensitive Winter in Wartime) is appropriately eerie. Still, despite the quality production values and restrained wry humor, Saint is a good old-fashioned dead teenager horror movie at heart.

The youthful-enough-to-pass-for-teenaged cast is at least adequate to the task, but Bert Luppes is pitch-perfect as the ridiculously hard-bitten Goert. Of course, this is not a film for subtly shaded emotional nuance, but at least everyone is clearly in the proper holiday spirit.

Given a fair number of jokes involving sexual aides, Saint is definitely not for children. That ought to go without saying for a film about a demonic slasher Santa Claus, but these days, you never know with folks. Those who enjoy a raucous little horror film will find Saint has pretty much everything they need. Recommended for cult audiences, it is an entertaining way to start the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival, when it screens this Thursday (4/21), Saturday (4/23), Sunday (4/24) and Wednesday (4/27).

French Animation in English: Mia and the Migoo

If young Mia’s experiences are representative, most environmentalists are more inclined to squabble amongst themselves rather than to take constructive action. Fortunately, she is a resilient little girl, capable of finding her missing father and saving the planet essentially single-handedly in Jacques-Rémy Girerd’s Mia and the Migoo (trailer here), the best animated feature at the 2009 European Film Awards, which returns to the IFC Center for a special limited run in honor of “Earth Day,” whatever that might be.

At least Mia is a smashing role model for young girls. Seeing a vision of her father Pedro in jeopardy, Mia sets out to find him at his remote construction job. It turns out a series of suspicious accidents have plagued the work site. After the latest incident traps Pedro in a cave-in, the greedy developer is forced to take personal charge of the project, lest his investors back out. A spectacular island Eden, the proposed development might be last hospitable spot on the planet due to runaway “global warming” (or perhaps “climate change”). However, the Migoo, a race of thirty foot hive-mind giants, stands watch over the island, wrecking havoc on the workers.

There is no missing Migoo’s environmental message. Frankly, it is just too much, even for those sympathetic to its green agenda, because it truly drives every single scene. There are no musical numbers or comic relief sequences (aside from some Migoo bickering) to give the film time to establish its characters and allow them space to breathe.

Considering Girerd produced the thoroughly charming feature A Cat in Paris, which was the toast of this year’s New York International Children’s Film Festival, Migoo is somewhat disappointing. It has a similarly stylish look, particularly the island landscapes that often deliberately evoke Van Gogh. However, Zoe, the little girl protagonist of Cat has far more personality than Mia, despite her near complete lack of dialogue. Indeed, the priority placed on Migoo’s message seems to come at the expense of character.

To give due credit, Migoo has some admirable elements, such as its resourcefulness of its young lead character and its redemptive conclusion. Artfully rendered, but oh so heavy-handed, the English-dubbed Migoo opens around the country this Friday (4/22) to mark Earth Day (probably a traditional day of harvest celebration in Brittany) and screens again in New York this weekend (4/22-4/24) at the IFC Center.

The Return of an Icon, Chen Zhen: Legend of the Fist

They were the forgotten allies of World War One. The Chinese government sided against Germany and even supplied men to the cause, whom the allies used as common trench-diggers. However, when the Germans advanced, Chen Zhen knew what to do. Returning to a China occupied by foreign powers, the legendary hero brings the war to the Japanese military in Andrew Lau’s Legend of the Fist (trailer here), a selection of the 67th Venice Film Festival, which opens uncut and undubbed (the way God intended) this Friday in New York.

Cleverly disguised with a pencil-thin mustache, Chen Zhen has assumed the identity of playboy Qi Tianyuan. As a cover, he manages the nightclub of the super-connected Liu Yutian, while serving as the eyes and ears of the Chinese nationalists. Many in Shanghai have acquiesced to the Japanese strong-arm tactics. However, the masked Chen Zhen’s well publicized acts of resistance begin to stir the populace. Of course, the Japanese are not amused. With the stakes rising exponentially, neutrality will no longer be an option.

It is surely no accident Chen Zhen’s club is called the Casablanca. There is definitely gambling going on there, as well as all sorts of espionage. Chen Zhen is no Rick Blaine though. He is a patriot through and through. Not even Kiki, the club’s gorgeous canary, will distract him from the fight.

Donnie Yen is probably the top action star working anywhere in the world today. Certainly, nobody in Hollywood can rival his martial arts cred and easy-going screen presence. After building a name in America as Bruce Lee’s future master in the Ip Man franchise, Yen is the logical choice for Chen Zhen, a role once played by Lee, as well as the likes of Jackie Chan and Jet Li. Also serving as the action director, Yen totally delivers the martial arts goods. Happily though, he need not carry the entire picture.

Indeed, Shu Qi makes a truly scorching femme fatale as Kiki, even performing a hot and swinging rendition of the Carmen aria. As Col. Chikaraishi, Kohata Ryuichi is just an okay villain, but Johnnie To regular Anthony Wong adds class and character to the proceedings as Liu Yutian.

Fist is one of the few successful retro historical action movies since Indiana Jones’ heyday. Art director Eric Lam’s 1920’s period details look great and the Yen’s fight sequences are consistently inventive. If anything, the film is slightly off balance, with best action scene coming up top, as a flashback to WWI, but at least it’s in there.

A first-rate production with a charismatic cast, Fist is the sort of film that makes fanboys of us all. Really, the only problem with it is its timing. The film is a blast, but its Japanese villains come at a time when many Asian film lovers are doggedly raising funds and awareness for Japan as it copes with the aftermath of the recent earthquake and tsunami. (Again, Hollywood and the Obama administration are welcome to jump onboard anytime.) Regardless, Fist is definitely recommended when it opens this Friday (4/22) at the Village East, as is supporting the Red Cross here and the Japan Society’s relief fund here.

Art Month on Independent Lens: Waste Land

Brooklyn-based Vik Muniz takes understandable pride in his status as Brazil’s most collectable contemporary artist. Whatever captures his interest will eventually become a topic of conversation in the gallery world. When Muniz turned to Rio’s Jardim Gramacho landfill (the largest in the world) for inspiration, it also commanded the attention of filmmaker Lucy Walker, who documented the project in her Academy Award nominated Waste Land (trailer here), which airs next week as part of a month of art-related documentaries programmed by PBS’s Independent Lens.

Like Egypt’s Zaballeen, Rio has a small marginalized class of garbage “pickers” who eke out a living salvaging recyclables from the landfill. Needless to say, this takes a toll on their self-esteem and social standing. It is these lumpenproletariats Muniz sought to directly involve in his project.

After a few days of taking in Jardim Gramacho’s festering spectacle, Muniz started choosing his subject-helpers and raw recycled materials. After photographing a number of pickers, both at work and in his studio, Muniz projected giant outlines of their portraits on the floor of his studio, which the pickers used as an outline to fill in with the objects from the landfill. The resulting mosaics were then photographed and printed, so Muniz could whisk them away to an auction in London (the proceeds from which went to the pickers’ start-up mutual aid society).

To its credit, Waste does not duck the issues raised by Muniz’s grand scheme. Several within Muniz’s inner circle directly question the wisdom of temporarily employing the pickers and possibly even taking them to London for the auction, only to dump them back at Jardim Gramacho once the project had run its course. Also, given the extent of the pickers’ hands-on involvement, one might also debate how appropriate it is to attribute the pieces to Muniz. However, unlike a Jeff Coons, in addition to directing the process from above, Muniz shot the original photos (often conceived as pastiches to famous paintings, such as Jacques-Louis David’s The Death of Marat) and he can also be seen adding graphite shadings, for what might be deemed the artistic touch.

People are not recyclable. Walker seems to get this. Though she clearly embraces the environmental implications of Muniz’s work, she never fetishizes the pickers’ way of life simply because they recycle, unlike Garbage Dreams, Mai Iskander’s highly problematic documentary portrait of the Zaballeen. Indeed, Walker and Muniz both seem to understand it would highly desirable if the Jardim Gramacho workers could find cleaner, less wearying employment elsewhere.

Wisely, Walker keeps the human element front-and-center in Waste. However, Moby’s electro-ambient soundtrack sounds oddly sterile for a film about garbage and conveys no sense of the Brazilian favelas where the pickers live. Despite its environmental preoccupations, Waste is a reasonably interesting behind-the-scenes look at a large-scale contemporary art project. Viewers can watch the Oscar nominee on free TV this coming Tuesday (4/19) as part of the current season of Independent Lens.