Slamdance ’13: Jug Face

Moonshine and pottery are a wicked combination.  One young woman living in a hillbilly cult understands that only too well.  She knows the kiln tolls for her in Chad Crawford Kinkle’s Jug Face (trailer here), a Modernciné production which premiered last night at the 2013 Slamdance Film Festival.

“The pit wants what it wants.”  In return, it cures members of the hardscrabble hill country community.  That was how their grandpappies survived the great cholera outbreak.  All that is required is a periodic sacrifice.  They will know who has been chosen from the special jugs the designated potter casts in a state of paranormal ecstasy.  Ada was supposed to be next, but she chanced upon her jug face before Dawai came out of his pit-induced stupor.  Stashing it in the woods, Ada is determined live—not just for herself, but also for her unborn child.

Whose child would that be?  Take a lurid guess.  It is not Dawai’s, unfortunately, since he’s not a bad chap, really.  Nor is the boy to whom she is to be “joined” the father (a term that sounds uncomfortably Human Centipede like).  The answer will be pretty easy to guess, given general filmmaker attitudes towards rural border state residents.  Ada is definitely in for a hard go of things and the deadly visions she gets from the pit will not help.

Basically, Jug Face is southern gothic exploitation fare, which co-star and Glass Eye Pix producer Larry Fessenden certainly understands.  As Ada’s cult leader father Sustin, he is not nearly as loathsome or malevolent as one might expect.  He might even be half-human.  In the lead, Lauren Ashley Carter’s eyes are almost supernaturally wide.  Her Ada is also reasonably down to earth for a sheltered cult-child.  Looking not unlike Will Ferrell on a below average morning, Sean Bridgers finds surprising pathos in Dawai.  In fact, if it really were Will Ferrell, it would probably be his best performance ever.  It is hard to recognize Sean Young as mother dearest, but at least her off-screen persona does not distract from the on-screen action.

Evoking the spirit of outsider art, Jug Face’s opening credits effectively set an unsettling tone right from the start.  However, the pit is a little underwhelming.  It just gurgles a little and turns red from time to time.  Regardless, Kinkle really knows how to tap into coastal dwellers’ hillbilly phobias, without going the full Deliverance route.  Unfortunately, the climax is more of a deflation than a conflagration.  Still, those looking to shudder at ritual murder and Appalachian inequities will find plenty of fodder in Jug Face.  Recommended for Fessenden fans with a taste for hicksploitation, Jug Face should have many midnight screenings ahead of it after its Slamdance premiere last night in Park City.

Knife Fight: Political Smugness Run Amok

There is no equivalent for political journalist turned Pulitzer Prize winning novelist Allen Drury in our current day and age.  This sad fact is brought home loud and clear in Bill Guttentag’s even sadder political wish fulfillment fantasy Knife Fight (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York at the IFC Center.

Paul Turner is a ruthless political consultant, but that is okay, because he only uses his powers for “good” rather than “evil.”  Giving an ostensibly warts-and-all tutorial to his new apprentice Kerstin, Turner explains, at their worst, his liberal clients are well-intentioned rogues, where as the other party is nothing but scum-sucking corporate tools.  The prime example is the Clintonesque Kentucky governor proposing to makes foreclosures a death-penalty crime.  Tired of bending but not breaking his ethical principles to save the philandering governor’s bacon, Turner recharges his idealism by taking on a long shot California gubernatorial candidate, who promises to save the state from bankruptcy with an unprecedented explosion of entitlement spending.

One of the most odious features of contemporary politics is the non-apology-apology and Turner has one of the worst examples ever.  He does not quite say “I’m sorry you attempted suicide because you couldn’t hack my relentless campaign of character assassination,” but its close.

Described in some places as a “political thriller,” Knife Fight is anything but.  Guttentag (with an assist from former Gore flack Chris Lehane) thoroughly stacks the deck in favor of Turner’s clients, while portraying him as unfailingly brilliant, so there is absolutely no suspense whether righteousness will prevail.  Even Turner’s big crisis of conscience amounts to little more than a supposed showcase for his superior sensitivity.

Just when Knife Fight reminds viewers how much we do not miss the cynical sanctimony and self-consciously rat-a-tat-tat dialogue of The West Wing, Richard Schiff appears as Dimitris, Turner’s Obiwan dirty trickster.  As Turner, Rob Lowe exudes interminable smugness.  Eric McCormack does the same as the governor, adding an impossibly bad southern accent.  Of course, nobody of note plays any of the conservative candidates, because they are seen exclusively in ridiculously over-the-top attack ads.  Only Jamie Chung comes across remotely likable as the young Jedi Kerstin, perhaps because she has little to do besides rolling her eyes at Turner’s unethical tactics.

If not the worst film of 2013 (time will tell), Knife Fight is the overwhelming frontrunner for the most simplistic.  Indeed, it is so stilted and self-congratulatory it would make even James Carville nauseous.  The combination of wafer-thin characterization and contrived plotting is not a winning one.  Only the most insecure and insular leftwing partisan could take solace from it.  Not recommended, not even for those who are down with it politically, chapter and verse, Knife Fight opens tomorrow (1/25) at the IFC Center.

Sundance ’13: Gangs of Wasseypur

For three criminal clans in India’s coal country, life is defined by family and their vendettas.  The two are not mutually exclusive in Anurag Kashyap’s epic Gangs of Wasseypur (trailer here), which screens in all its 320 minute glory at the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

The family tradition began with Shahid Khan, who robbed British trains while masquerading as an infamous Muslim dacoit Sultana.  Expelled by the real Sultana’s clan, Khan toils in the Dhanbad coalmines, working for the ruthless Ramadhir Singh.  After independence, ownership of the mine is transferred to the super-connected Singh, who hires Khan as his chief muscle-man.  Mindful of Khan’s ambitions to replace him, Singh arranges his murder, but the foreman’s young son, Sardar, is rescued by his father’s cousin.

As a boy, Sardar Khan swears vengeance against Singh.  As a man, Khan the budding crime lord is in a position to take it.  However, Singh is shrewd enough to call a temporary truce, while forging a secret alliance with the heir to his father’s old nemesis, Sultan Qureshi.  Distracted by the demands of an increasingly complicated family, consisting of five sons from two wives (and no divorce), Khan effectively defers his vengeance to the next generation.

In part two, there is a changing of the guard within the Khan family.  Leadership duties will fall upon Khan’s hashish addicted second son, Faizal Khan.  Nobody expects much from the spare heir, least of all his mother, but when he starts killing, his ferocity makes everyone sit up and take notice.

Frankly, Wasseypur is truly light years removed from Kashyap’s last film to find American distribution, The Girl with Yellow Boots.  Spanning three generations and seven decades, it is a big film by any measure.  Part one is a bit slow at times, because of all the grudges and betrayals it must establish.  A dark brooder punctuated by moments of grandly operatic violence, the tone of the first half could be described as a provincial Indian Godfather. 

However, the second part segues into Scarface territory, as Faizal Khan goes medieval on everyone standing in his way.  In fact, Wasseypur steadily builds momentum throughout its daunting five and a half hours, culminating with two spectacular action sequences, including a hospital shootout that could hold its own with John Woo’s Hardboiled.

Adding further depth, Wasseypur’s offers some intriguing social context, such as the post-Raj cronyism and corruption western audiences rarely see reflected on film.  It is also fascinating to watch Singh use trade unions and his political office to build a criminal syndicate.  Likewise, Wasseypur clearly attributes the Pashtun Khan organization’s local popularity to their willingness to stand up to the bullying Qureshi Muslim establishment.  Although there are no traditionally splashy musical numbers in Wasseypur, Kashyap shrewdly uses era-specific Bollywood hits to help delineate the passage of years for Indian audiences.

Nawazuddin Siddiqui’s feral, drug-addled Faizal Khan is all kinds of unsettling.  Many viewers will find themselves actively rooting against his protagonist during the second half.  Still, that kind of strong reaction means he is doing something right.   Reema Sen is also quite the domestic femme fatale as wife #2.  Yet, it is Tigmanshu Dhulia, better known as a screenwriter and director, who delivers the most nuanced supporting turn as Singh.

Wasseyrup would be impressive simply for its ambition, but Kashrup rises to the challenge, staging some distinctly stylish action sequences and cogently telling a richly intricate story, based on historical events in the region.  It could even lay a claim to being the Great Indian Crime Story, encompassing multiple generations, ethnic groups, and religions in its nefarious dealings.  Enthusiastically recommended for fans of high-end gangster films, Gangs of Wasseypur screens again tomorrow (1/24) in Park City and Saturday (1/26) in Salt Lake as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Goodnight for Justice: A Femme Fatale Rides Into Town

The Hon. John Goodnight is not exactly the Judge Dredd of the old west, but his skill with a sidearm can often cut down on the paperwork.  Nonetheless, he tries to dispense justice in accordance with the law, even if it is of a frontier variety.  This is both frustrating and endearing to a lady confidence artist on the run from a former mark in Goodnight for Justice: Queen of Hearts (promo here), which airs on the Hallmark Movie Channel this Saturday.

Goodnight has established a sterling reputation as a western circuit court judge, but it is a solitary life on the road.  Occupational hazards come with the job, but Goodnight can take care of himself.  He also starts taking care of Ms. Lucy Truffaut when her stage coach is attacked by Col. Cyril Knox (ret.) and his henchmen.  Actually, the stage was hired by the Pinkerton taking Ms. Truffaut to justice, but he will not live long enough to tell Goodnight that.  Instead, she will convince him she is an heiress pursued by would be kidnappers.  Her smooth talking charm and low cut dress are quite convincing, but it is only a matter of time before her story craters.  Knox is not giving up either, even if Goodnight is a judge.

It is always nice to see a new western produced for a major media outlet.  That said, Queen’s first two acts are sort of pokey and it features some of the dullest card games you will ever see on TV.  On the plus side, Luke Perry is clearly comfortable with his western franchise hero and he develops some nicely suggestive chemistry with Katharine Isabelle’s Truffaut.  Of course, this being Hallmark, it takes him a good long time to get any sugar out the deal.

Ricky Schroder (evidently he stopped fighting the “y”) wears the black hat quite well as Col. Knox, brooding and glowering with NYPD Blue intensity.  He has a good western look, which ought to serve him well in Wild Hearts, an upcoming contemporary western family drama he also directed and co-wrote for Hallmark (but sounds far too wholesome for any of us miscreants).

The annual GFJ tele-films are based on a solid premise, but Queen is a bit too jokey at times.  Director Martin Wood also could have cranked up the shootouts a tad.  At least there’s cleavage.  Recommended for western fans in need of a fix (and there are a lot of them out there) as well as fans of Isabelle (who is indeed a dynamic presence), Goodnight for Justice: Queen of Hearts premieres on the Hallmark Movie Channel this Saturday (1/26).

Sundance ’13: Which Way is the Front Line from Here

Photographer-filmmaker Tim Hetherington never considered himself an artist.  Nor could he be dubbed a partisan—his work was far too honest.  The terms “photojournalist” and “war correspondent” sound insufficient, but they might have to do.  It was in such a role Sebastian Junger met his late friend and collaborator, whom he profiles in Which Way is the Front Line from Here? The Life and Time of Tim Hetherington, which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

Hetherington is best known for co-directing the Academy Award nominated Restrepo with Junger.  Following a platoon’s fifteen month deployment to Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley, Restrepo is widely considered by both critics and veterans to be the most accurate depiction of what war is like on a day-to-day basis.  Yet, Junger clearly suggests it was his time spent in Liberia that most shaped Hetherington’s professional approach.  After his name-making series was published, Hetherington stayed in the West African nation for another two years.  If anyone could be considered the opposite of drive-by journalism, it would have been Hetherington.

Hetherington and Junger showed similar commitment in Afghanistan, becoming perhaps the most deeply embedded journalists ever.  Logically, the Korengal period factors prominently in Front Line, including footage and interviews with veterans of the platoon that will surely interest viewers familiar with Restrepo.

Junger also interviews Hetherington’s colleagues, parents, and the woman he was planning to start a family with.  However, Junger saves the last word for himself and he makes it count.  As a result, one can see Front Line as a tragically fitting sequel to Restrepo.

Sadly, Hetherington accepted one assignment too many, dying from shrapnel wounds during the Libyan Civil War.  (Lest the State Department jump to conclusions again, it should be noted this happened over a year before the Innocence of Muslims protests.)  It was a terrible loss, as viewers can judge from the ample selection of Hetherington’s photos illustrating the film.  Despite his protestations, Hetherington’s work shows a remarkable sense of composition.  He had an eye.  Junger presents it well in a moving tribute to his friend and comrade.  Highly recommended, Which Way is the Front Line from Here screens again tomorrow (1/23) and Friday (1/25) in Park City and Saturday (1/26) in Salt Lake during this year’s Sundance. Eventually, it will also air on HBO (4/18).

Slamdance ’13: What Isn’t There

Alt-pop music used to be great at expressing young amour and heartsick yearning.  Evidently, it still does in the Philippines.  Some remarkably catchy tunes perfectly accompany a damaged teen’s first significant love in Marie Jamora’s What Isn’t There (trailer here), which screens again today as part of the 2013 Slamdance Film Festival in Park City.

Gibson Bonifacio stopped speaking.  He could if he wanted to, but he doesn’t.  He blames himself for his twin brother’s death and assumes everyone else does too.  His mother’s overbearing behavior does not exactly help bring him out of his shell either.  Unfortunately, his beloved little sister Promise bears the brunt of her control freak parenting.  Bonifacio’s only solace comes from his brother’s ghost conjured from his imagination and his vintage music, until he happens to meet Enid del Mundo.

Much to his surprise, del Mundo does not seem to mind his silent ways.  She is also a vinyl collector, whose tastes include British New Wave and traditional Harana ballads.  She is cute too.  Viewers can hardly blame Bonifacio for getting hung up on her, even though we know by now young love almost never runs smoothly.

You can dog WIT for being sentimental, but it takes its characters and situations refreshingly seriously.  Jamora and co-writer Ramon De Veyra clearly think getting dumped is a pretty rotten thing to happen to a sensitive teenager, which indeed it is.  She also has an ear for hummable and thematically appropriate pop songs and Haranas.

Dominic Roco’s Bonifacio is supposed to be introverted, but there are times he seems to literally shrink on camera.  In contrast, Annicka Dolonius lights up the screen as del Mundo.  While the large supporting ensemble all looks right, Boboy Garovillo and Sabrina Man both add a memorable sense of earnest down-to-earth-ness as Bonifacio’s father and younger sister, respectively.

WIT is a lot like a Filipino John Hughes movie, but with less comedy.  Those who like bittersweet teen dramas will really dig this one.  Recommended accordingly, What Isn’t There screens again this afternoon (1/22) at Treasure Mountain Inn, as part of this year’s Slamdance.

Sundance ’13: Kill Your Darlings

In 1944, by a confluence of fate, the leading lights of the Beat movement assembled together around Columbia University, including Allen Ginsburg, Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, and Lucien Carr.  There is a reason you might not recognize the latter name.  Poetry and scandal mix freely in the Beat origin story dramatized in John Krokidas’s Kill Your Darlings, which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

Allen Ginsburg is certain poetry is his calling.  His sexuality is another matter.  Arriving at Columbia, his Jewish background automatically sets him apart as an outsider.  His resistance to aesthetic orthodoxy establishes his credibility with Carr, the campus literary rebel.  Soon Ginsburg is visiting jazz clubs, sampling Benzedrine with their mutual friend Burroughs, and pining for the androgynous Carr.

Ginsburg is not the only one carrying a torch for Carr.  Former professor David Kammerer appears to exert some sort of malevolent emotional hold on his ambiguous friend, which Carr increasingly resents.  Since Darlings starts in media res, viewers realize this will all end in tragedy.

Known to a scruffy handful of fans for a series of British films about boarding school students dabbling in the occult, Daniel Radcliffe is serviceably nebbish as Ginsburg.  At least he looks like a confused kid.  However, Ben Foster is almost worth the price of admission by himself, nailing not just the Burroughs drawl, but also his eccentric cadences and precise demeanor.  Unfortunately, Jack Huston’s Kerouac is 100% meathead and 0% poet.  Still, even though he looks like he stepped out of a fashion commercial, Dane DeHaan is convincingly dissolute as Carr.

Darlings is a decent period production, featuring some swinging tracks from Vince Giordano.  Frustratingly, music comes dead last in the closing credits, well after the caterers and the drivers, even though it contributes far more to the overall viewing experience.  What would Ginsburg and Kerouac say about that?  However, the colorless underscore is a truly baffling creative decision.  David Amram is still at the top of his game and has considerable experience scoring films.  Had Darling brought him onboard they would have had an apostolic connection to the Beat Generation.  That’s his music in Pull My Daisy, after all.  Instead, they opted for the light classical approach.

Indeed, Darlings represents a series of missed opportunities.  Foster is terrific and the mid-1940’s New York vibe is appealing.  It even has Sledgehammer!’s David Rasche as the Dean of Columbia.  Nonetheless, the film’s lurid preoccupation with Carr’s sex life becomes tiresome.  More music and more poetry would have made it a stronger work.  Mostly of interest to earnest Ginsburg and Burroughs fans, Kill Your Darlings screens again today (1/22), tomorrow (1/23), and Friday (1/25) in Park City as part of this year’s Sundance.

Blancanieves: Snow White in the Bull Ring

If often seems like the Academy’s rules for the best foreign language category are obscure and arbitrarily applied.  Frankly, the only language spoken in Spain’s official submission is body language.  Yet, Pablo Berger’s silent film qualified.  In fairness, it is about as Spanish as it gets, earning eighteen Goya nominations for combining the Snow White fairy tale with the rich tradition of bullfighting.  Unfortunately, Blancanieves (trailer here) will not repeat The Artist’s Oscar success, failing to even reach the foreign language shortlist.  However, it should still find considerable arthouse love when it opens this Friday in New York.

Antonio Villalta was a great matador, but one day he faced one bull too many.  As the paralyzed Villalta lies upon the operating table, his beloved sadly dies in child birth.  Recognizing a ticket to the easy life, the cold, calculating nurse Encarna sets her sites on the weakened widower.  Yes, you could say she is an evil stepmother to young Carmen.  Initially raised by her grandmother, Carmen is forced to become a servant on the Villalta estate after the kindly old woman’s death.  Though forbidden to see her father, she starts paying furtive visits to the equally miserable Villalta.  Even confined to his wheelchair, Villalta teaches her everything about the family business.  It will be a useful skill when things come to a head with Encarna.

Suffering from amnesia, Carmen falls in with an itinerant company of diminutive novelty bullfighters.  When her innate talent and extensive training are revealed, the troupe is quickly redubbed “Blancanieves and the Seven Dwarfs.”  They seem to be one dwarf short, but they are never sticklers for details in Spain.  Obviously, the act is a hit, which perturbs Encarna and you know what that means.

Blancanieves is the third Snow White adaptation in about a year’s time and by far the best.  Yet, it will draw far more comparisons to Michel Hazanavicius’s Artist than Kristen Stewart’s home-wrecking Huntsman.  Without question, Berger is a much richer visual stylist than the Oscar winning director.  On the other hand Hazanavicius’s elegantly light touch, flair for physical comedy, and old fashioned romanticism are ultimately a tad more satisfying.  Nonetheless, Berger frames some stunningly expressionistic tableaux and his transitions are a show unto themselves.  However, he embraces all of the tragic heaviness of the Brothers Grimm and almost none of their macabre fantasy.

The cast is also quite strong (but again The Artist’s ensemble would narrowly take the honors in a face-off).  Daniel Giménez Cacho’s work as Villalta is particularly poignant and the dwarfs stand head-and-shoulders above their more famous counterparts in Huntsman.  Sofía Oria is also quite touching as young Carmen (while Macarena García’s older incarnation is somewhat less so).

Watching Blancanieves one is struck by the painstaking composition of each shot and the care taken to perfectly match every note of Alfonso de Vilallonga’s score (featuring both sweeping orchestral pieces and some infectious flamenco-inspired songs).  Furthermore, the lack of award season recognition for Kiko de la Rica’s gorgeous black-and-white cinematography is nothing less than a crime.  A work of true cinematic artistry, Blancanieves is recommended for all real movie lovers when it opens this Friday (1/25) in New York.

Sundance ’13: The Look of Love

Paul Raymond was like the British Hefner, except he was significantly richer.  It turns out real estate and dirty magazines were a highly profitable combination.  Who knew?  Yet, despite the money and the parties, Raymond’s story is rather sad, at least according to Michael Winterbottom’s big screen treatment, The Look of Love, which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

Initially a burlesque impresario, Raymond’s first foray into publishing was a failure.  The timing was better for Men Only in the early 1970’s.  Much like Hefner, Raymond planned to turn control of his companies over to his daughter Debbie.  Unfortunately, as the audience quickly understands from the flashback structure, this will not come to pass.

Matt Greenhalgh’s screenplay unambiguously argues doing coke with your daughter does not constitute good parenting.  Actually, Look’s inclination to pass moral judgment is rather refreshing.  Yet, it clearly wants to have its cheesecake and eat it too.  There are plenty of scenes of Raymond’s naughty stage shows and photo-shoots.  However, the real estate side of his empire gets decidedly short shrift.  It might not be as cinematic, but it is important.  At the height of his family tragedy, Raymond was declared the wealthiest man in the UK, but Look never really explores his considerable business acumen.

Reuniting with Winterbottom again (following the thoroughly entertaining Trip), Steve Coogan is quite masterful in the dramedic lead, vividly portraying Raymond’s recklessness and remorse.  Unlike obvious comparison films (such as Boogie Nights), Look boasts several strong women characters, including Raymond’s first wife Jean and his longtime lover, Fiona Richmond, both of whom were once involved in the risqué side of his business.  One might even go so far as to say Tamsin Egerton projects empowered confidence as Richmond, the sex symbol who eventually has enough.  As Ms. Raymond #1, Anna Friel’s mature, self-possessed sexuality also works quite well on-screen.  Conversely, Imogen Poots’ lost little rich party girl persona becomes rather exhausting.

It is hard not to enjoy Raymond’s breezy first act success story, but since we know more or less how it ends, the third act plays out like a grim end-game.  As a period production, Look gets the groovy details right and if you dig David and Bacharach, you will have plenty to hum along with here.  Look is a fascinating morality tale, but it just could have used a bit more pep down the stretch.  Recommended reservedly for Coogan fans and those obsessed with the early adult smut industry, The Look of Love screens again Wednesday (1/23) in Salt Lake, Thursday (1/24) in Sundance Resort, and Saturday (1/26) in Park City, as part of this year’s Sundance.

Slamdance ’13: The Institute

What’s more fun than global conspiracy?  If you ask former “inductees” of the Jejune Institute, you will likely get radically different responses.  It seems it was all just a game, or was it?  Indeed, truth is deliberately difficult to separate from fiction in Spencer McCall’s ostensive documentary The Institute (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Slamdance Film Festival in Park City.

Once upon a time, 2008 to be exact, some strange leaflets began appearing around San Francisco—strange even by that city’s standards.  The Jejune Institute was trumpeting its revolutionary scientific breakthroughs, like the personal force field, and inviting interested parties to inquire at their local offices.  It turns out the Jejune Institute was headquartered in the heart of San Francisco’s glass-and-steel financial district.  However, the office was nothing like Bank of America’s.  Visitors were directed to a trippily appointed room, where they watched a video greeting from Jejune founder Octavio Coleman, Esq.

After a mind-bending intro to some of the basic Jejune buzz-words, inductees were sent on a scavenger hunt throughout the city, finding secret signs and clues amid the urban environment.  Before long, inductees found themselves aligned with a rival faction seeking to liberate the power of “nonchalance” (the rough Jejune equivalent of The Force) from the megalomaniacal Coleman.  Or something like that.

The thing is, it was all just a game, engineered by a conceptual artist to foster a sense of play in the city.  Yet, as soon as the behind-the-scenes architects come clean, McCall introduces a former player, whose tales of misadventures in the Bay Area sewers have to be part of the mythology.  I mean, seriously.

Reportedly, McCall was brought in to document the final stages of the game and recognized a doc-worthy story when he saw one.  Yet, by the same token, it seems safe to assume he is to some extent, an accomplice to the mythmaking.  There are enough digital tracks to suggest the Jejune Instituters truly were running an Alternate Reality Game (ARG) that some players took very seriously.  As for everything else in the film, maintain a healthy skepticism.

The thing of it is, the Jejune mythology is a great story.  McCall taps into our deep abiding interest in secret histories, conspiracy theories, and urban legends, as well as our fear of cults.  For scores of players, the ARG was like submerging themselves in an Illuminatus! novel.  Yes, some of them might have become obsessed to an unhealthy degree, but they might also be playing the parts.

While openly inviting comparison to Exit Through the Gift Shop, The Institute will appeal to viewers who enjoyed Resurrect Dead: The Mystery of the Toynbee Tiles.  It might be strange and unreliable, but it is never dull.  Recommended for those who appreciate postmodern fables, The Institute screens again tomorrow morning (1/22) at Treasure Mountain Inn, as part of this year’s Slamdance.

Sundance ’13: S-VHS

Have you ever watched something so disturbing you wish you could un-see it?  Like maybe A Serbian Film or Barbra Streisand’s Guilt Trip?  That is sort of the premise behind the follow-up to last year’s horror anthology V/H/S.  While S-VHS is very definitely a film for horror diehards, it is not a similarly soul-shredding experience (trailer here).  In fact, it should be a heck of a fan-pleaser during its midnight screenings at the 2013 Sundance Film Festival.

The only place S-VHS repeats V/H/S is during Simon Barrett’s interstitial framing arc, Tape 47.  Once again, strangers have broken into a sketchy looking house, finding a mysterious assortment of VHS tapes.  This time around, a detective and his assistant Ayesha are looking for a missing college student, who evidently became obsessed with his collection of macabre found footage.  It seems he believed the cumulative effect of watching certain tapes consecutively would have a transformative effect on the viewer.  Naturally, Ayesha does exactly that, utilizing the monitors conveniently provided.

Adam Wingard’s Clinical Trials might be the most conventional of four tapes the intruders watch, but it still delivers plenty of creeps and jolts.  After an accident, a man has received a bionic optical implant to replace a lost eye.  The experimental treatment is free, but his initial experiences will be recorded for analysis.  (How such advanced technology was transferred to an obsolete VHS tape is not a question worth asking.)  With his artificially boosted vision, the man starts seeing things he never could before, like the dead people haunting his home.

In a bit of a departure, Edúardo Sanchez & Gregg Hale’s A Ride in the Park aims more for gross-outs than edge-of-the-seat scares, but it delivers accordingly.  Recorded through the protagonist’s bike helmet-cam, it could be described as the “zombie vomit” installment.  What more do you need to know?

Not surprisingly, the strongest constituent film comes from Gareth Huw Evans, who helmed the spectacular martial arts shoot-out The Raid.  Also set in Indonesia (a refreshing change of pace for the franchise), Safe Haven, co-directed with Timo Tjahjanto, consists of the footage shot by a documentary film crew visiting the compound of a reputed cult leader.  Initially, the well-spoken guru cooperates in the apparent hope of counteracting some of his bad PR.  However, their presence seems to ignite something evil.

Evans and Tjahjanto sure understand how to pace a film.  Steadily escalating the degree of wtf-ness, they throw in just about everything but the kitchen sink, culminating with one of the best composed closing shots you could ever hope to see in a genre film.  The ensemble cast is also first rate, from top to bottom.

While not quite as inspired as Haven, Jason Eisener’s Alien Abduction Slumber Party still ends S-VHS on a high note.  This is truly a descriptive title.  However, the dialogue and relationship dynamics are cleverly written, without sounding like an attempted Scream rip-off.  It is also a good example of how brief, blurry images seen out of the corner of one’s eye can be far more unsettling than front-and-center special effects shots.

Like its predecessor, S-VHS is pretty scary stuff, but by offering more humor and gleeful gore, it happens to be more fun.  A rare case of a sequel surpassing the original, S-VHS is enthusiastically recommended for midnight movie veterans (perhaps exclusively).  It screens again Tuesday (1/22) and Thursday (1/24) in Park City and Sunday (1/26) in Salt Lake, as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

NYJFF ’13: Life in Stills

Though it dates back centuries, the modern State of Israel has only been recognized internationally for the last sixty-four plus years.  Yet, Israelis are justifiably proud of their relatively short history.  That is one reason why the Photohouse in Tel Aviv became such an institution selling prints of Rudi Weissenstein’s photos documenting the country’s founding era.  However, Weissenstein’s ninety-six year old widow Miriam and her superhumanly indulgent grandson will have a fight on their hands to carry on in their current location.  Tamar Tal documents their efforts as well as their complicated relationship in Life in Stills (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 New York Jewish Film Festival, co-presented by the Jewish Museum and the Film Society of Lincoln Center.

One has to admire Weissenstein’s approach to customer service.   To her, a potential patron is just another “pain in the ass.”  That clearly frustrates her grandson Ben, the family diplomat and business manager.  While their bond is strong, there are tensions between them, stemming from some painful family history.  When Ben was a just boy, his father killed his mother and then committed suicide.  The young man always grieved both his parents, but Weissenstein’s bitter words directed at his father makes that difficult.

Rudi Weissenstein’s photos are both aesthetically pleasing and historically significant.  He had an eye and happened to be present at landmark events, including the signing of Israel’s Declaration of Independence.  Unfortunately, it seems the Mayor of Tel Aviv is determined to force out Photohouse for the sake of a large development.  Grandmother and grandson will not leave without a fight though, launching petition campaigns and accepting high profile invitations to exhibit Weissenstein’s work abroad.  Actually, Miriam Weissenstein needed a bit of convincing on the latter.  Poor Ben is a real trooper alright.

Stills tellingly illustrates the tolerance Tel Aviv is so well known for, both in Weissenstein’s acceptance of her grandson’s private life and Tal’s conscious decision not to make too big a deal of it.  Yet, given the power of Rudi Weissenstein’s images, viewers might feel shortchanged by the somewhat limited coverage of his career in the film.  Nonetheless, those who appreciate photography as a form of art and a means of recording history will find the many stills illustrating Tal’s documentary quite fascinating. 

Sadly Miriam Weissenstein passed away several months after Stills’ premiere, but Tal’s film should further codify her husband’s international reputation.  Recommended for photography buffs and Israeli cinema patrons, the hour-long Life in Still screens twice with Let’s Dance this Thursday (1/24) as the 2013 NYJFF continues at the Walter Reade Theater.

Sundance ’13: Pussy Riot—A Punk Prayer

Nadezhda Tolokonnikova is currently in prison for protesting the collusion between church and state.  She also has a long history of demonstrating on behalf of women’s issues.  One would think her face would be on countless hipsters’ t-shirts.  Given her supermodel looks, her likeness would certainly be more appealing than ugly old Che.  However, Tolokonnikova and the other members of her punk rock band were objecting to the authoritarian Putin regime’s increasingly brazen abuses of power.  It might not interest professional activists in the West, but their ongoing plight is as dramatic as true stories get.  The persecution of Russia’s most famous underground band is documented in Mike Lerner & Maxim Pozdorovkin’s Pussy Riot—A Punk Prayer, which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

Sort of like a real world version of the musical tricksters seen in Simonsson & Nilsson’s films, the balaclava-donning Pussy Riot specialized in provocative, unannounced public performances.  Critical of both the Putin regime and traditional Russian patriarchal (or chauvinistic) attitudes, their lyrics have always been pointedly political.  While they certainly ruffled some feathers before, Pussy Riot’s decision to crash Moscow’s Cathedral of Christ the Savior was admittedly a profound miscalculation. 

While the thirty second performance was intended as a political commentary on the open alliance between the Russian Orthodox Church and Putin’s government, the resulting outrage amongst the faithful allowed prosecutors to come down on band with the full force of the state.  Soon thereafter, Tolokonnikova, Maria Alyokhina, and Yekaterina Samutsevich were behind bars, facing trial on vaguely defined charges.

The reasonably well informed should know the broad strokes of the regime’s campaign against Pussy Riot, but Lerner & Pozdorovkin give viewers a look beneath their brightly colored hoods.  Over the course of the doc, the audience learns the three imprisoned musicians are deeply steeped in the contemporary art scene and earnestly committed to causes like environmentalism and democratic reform.  Far from being the maladjusted delinquents of state-sponsored propaganda, they are profoundly influenced by supportive, well educated fathers, who are quite compelling during their on-camera interview segments.

Sadly, Pussy Riot will not be performing at Sundance’s ASCAP Music Café.  Although the story is still developing, Tolokonnikova and Alyokhina still remain behind bars.  Indeed, Lerner & Pozdorovkin illuminate the twists and turns of the case quite well, while eschewing voice-over narration.  Frightening and infuriating, Pussy Riot—A Punk Prayer is arguably the most important film selected at this year’s Sundance.  It is very highly recommended when it screens again today (1/20), Wednesday (1/23), and Thursday (1/24) in Park City.  However, it should also be a call for action.  For starters, every Russian filmmaker who attends a western film festival should be asked to comment, as a fellow artist, on Tolokonnikova and Alyokhina’s continued imprisonment.

Sundance ’13: The Summit

For climbers, the math surrounding K2 is daunting.  Twenty-five percent of those who reach the summit perish on the way down.  It is a factor of altitude plus exhaustion.  Nevertheless, the mortality rate for the international expedition scaling the mountain in August of 2008 was unusually high.  While the sudden blizzard and subsequent avalanches obviously cost the climbing party dearly, many of the details of what transpired up there remain murky.  It is a mystery that survivors and loved ones try to resolve in Nick Ryan’s The Summit (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

Out of the twenty-four who ascended K2 that fateful day, eleven never made it back.  That is forty-four percent—or sixty one percent of the eighteen who reached the so-called “death zone.”  Gerald (Ger) McConnel became the first Irishman to summit K2.  However, his ultimate fate is the driving question of Ryan’s documentary.

The tragic 2008 climb was not the first controversy surrounding K2.  In fact, there was quite a bit of back-biting and finger-pointing after the first successful summitting.  Esteemed Italian mountaineer Walter Bonatti never received proper credit for his contributions that allowed his countrymen to stake their claim for glory.  Viewers learn this from journalist Concetto La Malfa, who intermittently tells the tale in the persona of Bonatti.  Actually, that is not very clearly established in Summit, which is problematic for a documentary, but good golly what a rich voice he’s got.

Despite the flashing backwards and forwards, Summit keeps the audience riveted throughout.  Incorporating home videos and footage shot during the climb, as well as staging some surprisingly cinematic dramatic re-enactments, Ryan conveys the personalities of most of the party members, often through their own words.  This also increases the suspense as the mountain takes the ill-fated eleven one by one, And Then There Were None-style.

Visually arresting (with ample credit due to cinematographers Robbie Ryan and Stephen O’Reilly, as well as the climbers themselves), The Summit is a perfect doc for viewers who prefer narratives.  It is about as story-driven as films get.  Ryan’s documentary vividly captures a sense of the punishing Karakoram-Himalayan environment as well as the spirit of adventure that draws people to it.  Enthusiastically recommended, The Summit screens today in Salt Lake (1/20), Wednesday (1/23) and Friday (1/25) in Park City, and Tuesday (1/22) in Sundance Resort as part of this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Slamdance ’13: Best Friends Forever

When the apocalypse comes, books will definitely have an advantage over the internet.  An aspiring grad student would agree.  She was planning a career as a librarian.  Unfortunately, the end of the world complicates matters.  However, it takes a while for her and her hard partying BFF a while to notice Armageddon looming during their southwestern road trip in Brea Grant’s Best Friends Forever (trailer here), which premiered last night in Part City at the 2013 Slamdance Film Festival.

Harriet is the sensitive one, who spent a short stint in a mental hospital following a suicide attempt.  Following the long held tradition of low budget genre movies, her best pal Reba is kind of trampy.  After graduation, Harriet packs up the AMC Pacer for grad school in Texas, convincing Reba to tag along for the ride.  While they are on the road, a mysterious terrorist attack leads to a series of nuclear explosions.  The two women are not listening to the news though, preferring music and the occasional “Oprah” moment to the outside world.  Their first inklings something might be amiss comes when three hipsters carjack their Pacer.

Eventually, the breakdown of civilization strains their relationship.  Of course, nobody claims responsibility for the cataclysmic act of terror, lest it offend anyone.  In one awfully strange exchange, several characters want to blame North Korea, to which Reba replies she is Chinese, as if the PRC were as benign as Luxemburg.  Indeed, the third act threatens to undo much of the good will established by the co-leads, depicting a rather nasty nativist martial law sweeping across Texas.

Since Grant co-wrote and co-produced with her co-star Vera Miao, viewers are pretty much stuck with them as Harriet and Reba, respectively.  Fortunately, they have some nice bickering buddy-buddy chemistry together.  Still, this is clearly a genre film with a female audience in mind, casting men in exclusively either predatory or ineffectual roles.  While Grant comes in with geek credentials from appearances in Heroes and Halloween 2, as well as her work co-writing the 1920’s zombie comic We Will Bury You with her brother Zane, neither of the two seems particularly comfortable with the odd action scene.  Frankly, everyone in BFF would rather talk than do anything else, but the dialogue does not have the sort of snap it should.

Putting a Pacer in the center of an end-of-the-world road movie is pretty ingenious.  Employing the apocalypse as a prism through which to examine personal and social relationships is also a promising strategy, yielding mixed results in this case.  There are some appealing moments of friendship under extreme circumstance in BFF.  Nonetheless, it never approaches the attitude or verve of Thom Eberhardt’s Night of the Comet, the gold standard for zeitgeisty generational Doomsday movies.  More chick flick (deliberately referencing Thelma & Louise) than midnight movie, Best Friends Forever should satisfy those looking for the former, albeit with a bit of an edge.  Flawed but interesting, it screens again at the Treasure Mountain Inn screening room this Monday (1/21) as part of this year’s Slamdance.

Sundance ’13: Fallen City

When disaster strikes, government is there to step in and help, right?  In today’s China, not necessarily.  When the 2008 earthquake hit Sichuan, the town of Beichuan was simply leveled to the ground.  Documentary producer turned director Zhao Qi records the ironies and indignities of the city’s rebuilding process in Fallen City (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

Once a community of 20,000 strong, the survivors of Beichuan now live in crude temporary housing as they await the shiny new city the state media breathlessly promises them.  Each and every one of them grieves for multiple family members.  Especially heartrending are the Pengs, who mourn their eleven year old daughter.  Watching the inconsolable father pore over her drawings salvaged from their flat like holy relics is truly painful.  They are not alone in their agony.  The audience also sees in clear terms how the teenaged Hong’s behavioral issues are directly related to the loss of his father.

To add insult to injury, when the citizens of Beichuan seek traditional solace on the anniversary of the quake, the police physically prevent them from entering the “old city,” thereby undermining their attempts at closure through ritual.  In fact, the disconnect between officialdom, as expressed by Orwellian newscasts, and reality is a theme running throughout Fallen.

In several ways, Fallen lets the government off the hook, scrupulously avoiding discussion of the so-called “Tofu Construction” causing the disproportionate collapse of school buildings, or the Party’s concerted efforts to prevent the release of an accurate death toll.  Yet, the facts on the ground Zhao captures through his lens are impossible to miss.  We see the media hypocrisy, institutionalized economic inequalities, and corrupt criminal justice system up close and personal.

Constantly documenting events since the 2008 disaster, Fallen represents a work of true documentary commitment from Zhao.  Even those who think they have been de-sensitized by images of Hurricanes Katrina and Sandy will be staggered by the ghostly sight of old Beichuan.  Nonetheless, it is the pictures and video of the children (negligently) killed during the quake that will really hit audiences in the gut.  Powerful and profoundly troubling, Fallen City is highly recommended when it screens again this Monday (1/21), Wednesday (1/23), Friday (1/25), and next Saturday in Park City, as well as this Thursday (1/24) in Salt Lake as a World Cinema Documentary Competition selection of the 2013 Sundance Film Festival.

Sundance ’13: This is Martin Bonner

It seems like the only job Martin Bonner can get involves doing the Lord’s work.  He has decidedly mixed feelings about that.  Yet, his own uncertainties make him a more accessible adviser for a remorseful ex-con in Chad Hartigan’s This is Martin Bonner (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

An Australian transplant in Reno, Martin Bonner is starting over.  After a long period of unemployment, he now works for a Christian outreach program for recently released prison inmates.  Technically, he is not Travis Holloway’s mentor, but he makes a tenuous connection when pinch-hitting for his assigned volunteer.  It is not that Holloway does not like the devout Steve Helms.  He is simply more comfortable with Bonner.

Bonner is a film could have gone one way or another.  We quickly learn Bonner was fired from his previous church job because of his divorce.  However, Hartigan never really grinds that axe.  Nor is the Evangelical Helms presented in fanatical terms.  Instead, the film could be called a study of questioned faith in action.  Frankly, it is offers some of the most mature and nuanced discussions of Christianity in everyday practice you are likely to see in any major film festival.

Paul Eenhoorn’s performance as Bonner is arguably Oscar caliber (unquestionably so, if Cooper and Jackman truly are so this year).  This man is not a saint.  He can even be a little prickly, but he is trying to do the right thing.  Eenhoorn perfectly conveys that humanistic temporizing.  Likewise, as Holloway, Richmond Arquette (yes, from the Arquette family) creates an unusually deep portrait of regret and pathos.  In fact, the entire ensemble is small but powerful, especially including Sam Buchanan as Holloway’s estranged daughter Diana.

Bonner is a modest, quiet film, by any standard of measure.  Yet, it has moments of rare honesty.  Aside from the scene of Bonner lip-synching to his teenaged garage band’s old 8-track (which feels a little too cute and calculated), Hartigan’s patience and sensitivity always pay-off with surprising interest.  Recommended with a fair bit of enthusiasm for general audiences, This is Martin Bonner screens again Sunday (1/20), Tuesday (1/22), and Friday (1/25) in Park City and next Saturday (1/26) in Salt Lake, as part of the 2013 Sundance.

Sundance ’13: Shopping

Willie is a quiet kind of kid.  The patriarch of a roving band of thieves can envision useful roles for him.  The allure of their outlaw lifestyle will test his bond with his younger brother in Mark Albiston & Louis Sutherland’s Shopping, which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

With a wave of race riots still fresh in New Zealand's public memory, half-Samoan Willie’s domineering Anglo father insists he keep his head down and nose to the grindstone.  Working part-time in the local department store, the young man confronts Bennie, a flagrant shoplifter, who somehow still slips away like the old pro he clearly is.  Later outside, he offers Willie a bit of consideration the honest lad duly refuses.  Not so the next time.  After a few parties and few capers, Willie is definitely considering throwing in his lot with the “shoppers.”  Yes, Bennie also has a daughter who makes a strong impression on Willie.  Unfortunately, showing interest in her can be a dicey proposition.

In addition to the Oliver Twisty story, Albiston & Sutherland also depict the unusual close relationship between Willie and his sibling.  Instead of resenting all the time he must spend with the physically and socially awkward Solomon, Willie is a genuinely protective and indulgent older brother, to an extent not often seen on film.

For a young actor, Kevin Paulo is a surprisingly effective slow burner.  As Willie, he dramatically conveys how tightly wound and conflicted the pre-teen is.  Likewise, Jacek Koman is both roguishly charming and downright menacing as Bennie.  Unfortunately, Willie’s erratic father and passive mother are essentially stock figures.

Basically, Shopping is three parts coming-of-age story and one part crime drama.  Albiston & Sutherland handle the material with great sensitivity, but a bit more humor in the mix would have helped counter-balance the heavy, naturalistic atmosphere.  Recommended for those who appreciate sibling stories with a thin layer of social commentary, Shopping screens again in Park City today (1/19), Thursday (1/24), and Friday (1/25), as well as in Salt Lake on Sunday (1/20) as part of this year’s Sundance.

Sundance ’13: Crystal Fairy

Travel is broadening. You can discover exotic new ways to get high.  For an extraordinarily annoying American expat, Chile is all about one thing: San Pedro cactus.  Chile is welcome to keep him.  Still, he just might learn something from a hippy-dippy free spirit in Sebastián Silva’s Crystal Fairy, which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

Did I mention how truly unpleasant it is to spend time with young Jamie?  Well, it is.  Nonetheless, three Chilean brothers befriend the self-centered, manic, immature drug-vacuum.  They are about to embark on a little Fear-and-Loathing road trip in search of some of that increasingly rare cactus to boil up and ingest on the beach.  However, Jamie complicates matters when he invites along wild child Crystal Fairy.  He will regret the overture as soon as he comes down from his coke bender.  While the brothers three try to make the best of it, Jamie acts like a complete jerkweed around his fellow American.  Yet somehow, there might be a thimble full of redemption lurking in the third act.

While Michael Cera still looks like a moppet, he is so convincingly irritating, it is rather amazing his management signed off on this Chilean escapade.  Were it not for the climatic emotional pay-off Silva handles with remarkable sensitivity, Crystal might sour viewers on Cera indefinitely.

Between Crystal Fairy and his class conscious The Maid, Silva is beginning to emerge as the maestro of the awkward situation.  He is also clearly willing to present his cast in a profoundly unflattering light.  Indeed, Jamie dubs Gaby Hoffman’s character “Crystal Hairy” for reasons that are vividly and repeatedly established.  The obvious exceptions are his three real life brothers, Agustín, José Miguel, and Juan Andrés, who all come across as decent chaps with sufficient hygiene.

Essentially, Crystal Fairy shows the dark side of the kooky, quirky characters that typically inhabit indie films.  Frankly, it is sort of a corrective to many other films that will play in Park City over the coming week, reminding viewers there are often rather unfortunate reasons behind eccentric behavior.  That is not nothing, but Silva forces the audience to sit through a lot of noise before it starts to get real.  Only recommended for viewers with little fondness for precious-sized indies or Cera, Crystal Fairy screens today (1/18), Wednesday (1/23), and Friday (1/25) in Park City, today (1/18) in Salt Lake, and tomorrow (1/19) in Ogden, as a World Cinema Dramatic Competition selection at this year’s Sundance.