Patrick: Evil Awakens (in a Testy Mood)

He might not be on the tip of every tongue, but Australia’s favorite telekinetic coma patient is one of the few horror movie villains known affectionately by their first names, like Freddy and Jason. He might look easy to outrun, but he has a long paranormal arm. Mark Hartley gives him a dark and stormy rebooting in Patrick: Evil Awakens (trailer here), which opens this Friday in select theaters.

When brain trauma nurse Kathy Jacquard arrives at the Roget Clinic (a remote sanatorium for persistent vegetative patients that looks like it was designed by the same architect responsible for Norman Bates’ house), Patrick Thompson apparently just lies about, creeping everybody out. Occasionally, he spits too, but that is one of those involuntary reflexes.  Soon though, he begins communicating with the empathetic Jacquard via his powers and the nearby computer terminal. Initially, Jacquard is determined to save Patrick from Dr. Roget’s dubious shock treatments, but she soon starts to suspect her patient is behind all the mysterious mayhem happening around her.

Yes, Patrick is definitely the clingy type. However, Dr. Roget is no saint either, but he is a wizard at coming up with synonyms.  His daughter, Matron Cassidy is not exactly warm and friendly either. This will be a tough gig for Jacquard, but it will be worse for the men looking to worm their way into her life.

Remaking a cult favorite is always a risky proposition, but probably no filmmaker could tackle Patrick with as much credibility as Hartley, a certifiable expert in Australian (and Filipino) exploitation films as the director of the wildly entertaining Not Quite Hollywood and Machete Maidens Unleashed documentaries. Hartley cranks up the gothic elements, drawing nearly as much from the Hammer Frankenstein franchise as the original source film. It all looks great and gives Charles Dance OBE plenty to chew on as Dr. Roget. While there is an over-reliance on cheap jump scares in the early going, Hartley cuts loose in the second half with some deliriously over the top sequences.

If not exactly a feminist triumph, the figure of Jacquard is comparatively proactive and You’re Next’s Sharni Vinson’s performance is reasonably assertive. At least, she is not sitting around waiting to be a victim. Likewise, former Oscar nominee Rachel Griffiths (for Hilary and Jackie, remember?) pulls off a few well turned character development surprises as the severe Matron Cassidy. As for Jackson Gallagher, you could say he is rather stiff as the title character.

By genre standards, the new Patrick is pretty impressive, featuring a massively moody score composed by Pino Donaggio (probably best known for his work with Brian De Palma and Nicolas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now). Hartley also finds a wickedly funny way to drop in Brian May’s original Patrick theme. It is certainly preposterous at times, but it still works quite well, all things considered. Recommended for horror movie fans and Ozploitation junkies, Patrick: Evil Awakens opens this Friday (3/14) in select theaters.

uwantme2killhim: Kids Like to Chat

In 2003, a sixteen year-old kid from Manchester should have been on Friendster. Instead, Mark is getting touchy feely in an anonymous chat-room.  That always leads to bad things in the movies and this based-on-a-true-story teen angst-thriller is no exception. Once again, the internet apparently turns a clean-cut popular kid into a killer in Andrew Douglas’s awkwardly titled uwantme2killhim? (trailer here), produced by Bryan “X-Men” Singer, which opens this Friday in Los Angeles.

Mark, the shaggy-haired jock, pretty much has his pick of the girls at school, while John basically serves as the campus punching bag. However, Mark agrees to take John under his wing when he discovers he is the younger brother of Rachel, his online girlfriend. He has never met her face to face because she and her abusive boyfriend, Kevin McNeil are in the witness protection program, which makes perfect sense to Mark.

Since webcams were not such a common accessory at the time, Mark falls for her solely on the basis of her photo and her sub-literate chat dialogue. Unfortunately, when the thuggish McNeil kills Rachel out of jealousy, it thoroughly destabilizes Mark, leaving him susceptible to the ominous offers of the MI-5 agent supposedly monitoring McNeil.

Right, you are probably already smelling a rat and you will not be not far wrong if you can think of a tasty fish they like to fry up in Louisiana. The only real questions are who is playing Mark and why? Mike Walden’s dramatic adaptation of Judy Bachrach’s Vanity Fair article does its best to pepper red herrings throughout, but the in media res structure does not help to build any real suspense.

It is rather compelling to watch Jamie Blackley transform Mark from a big man on campus to an anti-social head case. However, Douglas (best known for helming the Amityville Horror remake) is not able to convincingly convey the sort of slow frogs-boiling-water process necessary to undermine his previously well-adjusted psyche. Uwantetc also boasts an intriguing supporting cast, including Downton Abbey’s Joanne Froggart (Lady Mary’s maid, Anna) as DI Sarah Clayton and Jaime Winstone as Rachel, but it never gives them much to do.

When was the last time the internet served as an agent of progress on film? Clearly, the movie business is still holding a grudge for all the business presumably lost to file-sharers. Despite the not so shocking plot twists, the character’s psychological dynamics are still provocative and ultimately rather sad and disturbing. Unfortunately, Douglas and Walden were apparently determined to maximize the film’s timeliness with their compulsive attention to British surveillance practices. Yet, the events of the film could ironically support even more extensive and pervasive online monitoring policies. An earnest misfire, uwantme2killhim? opens this Friday (3/14) in Los Angeles at the Laemmle NoHo 7.

On My Way: Catherine Deneuve Takes a Road Trip

A former Miss Brittany, Bettie has always been able to turn men’s heads, but that does not necessarily mean she has an aptitude for business. No seriously, it doesn’t. With her bills and the disappointments of life compounding, she sets out on an impulsive road trip in Emmanuelle Bercot’s On My Way (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

For years Bettie has settled for being the mistress of the man she thinks she loves. However, when he leaves both her and his wife for a much younger woman, Bettie loses her only reason for staying in her ever so provincial town. While serving lunch at her soon to be insolvent restaurant, she suddenly ups and leaves in search of cigarettes. She will range pretty far in search of smokes, but why not?

After a night drinking at a road house and an incredibly awkward tryst, Bettie finally gets a justification for her walkabout. Her estranged, nearly unemployable daughter needs her to drive Charly, the grandson she barely knows, to his paternal grandfather’s house, so she can leave for a dubious job abroad. 

Of course, it will not be a smooth ride, but at least OMW picks up speed as it goes along. As viewers learn Bettie’s backstory, they will become more apt to forgive her dubious decisions, but she remains a hard figure to fully embrace. That makes her psychologically realistic, but also a bit of a pill to spend screen-time with. Likewise, Bercot’s real life son Nemo Schiffman is certainly convincingly churlish as the androgynous Charly. However, in his screen debut, painter Gerard Garouste supplies exactly the sort of worldly gravitas the film needs as Alain, Charly’s curmudgeonly grandpa.

Like a cross-country drive, OMW has its highs and lows.  While Bettie is essentially the sort of sexually confident senior Shirley MacLaine used to specialize in, her chemistry with Garouste, the non-professional thesp, is fresh and appealing. Pleasant enough, but overly susceptible to unnecessary detours, On My Way is mostly recommended for Deneuve’s older Francophile fans when it opens this Friday (3/14) in New York at the Lincoln Plaza Cinemas.

NYICFF ’14: A Town Called Panic—The Christmas Log

Santa is coming, so Indian and Cowboy are minding their behavior, but even their Christmas best is completely unruly and impulsive. The holidays only come once a year, but chaos reigns 365 days a year in this provincial village of plastic toys. Stéphane Aubier & Vincent Patar give viewers one of the rowdiest Christmas specials ever with A Town Called Panic: The Christmas Log, which screens as part of Short Film Program One at the 2014 New York International Film Festival.

The bickering Cowboy and Indian (they are Belgian, so they use politically incorrect terms) have not matured one whit since the Panic feature film.  They still live with the infinitely more responsible Horse, trying his patience daily. When their fooling around accidentally ruins the Christmas log for Horse’s dinner party, they finally push him too far. Exasperated, Horse calls up Santa and cancels their gift delivery. Naturally, Cowboy and Indian try to fix the situation, but only make matters worse.

Right, so Merry Christmas one and all. Do not look for any cheap sentiment here. Linus will not explain the true meaning of Christmas, nor will the Grinch be joining the citizenry of Whoville for a Christmas roast. Instead, Town Called Panic delivers a feast of increasingly reckless lunacy that only molded plastic figurines could survive. In short, it is all good stuff.

At twenty-six minutes, Christmas Log is the longest film in Program One and a reasonable substantial fix for fans of the feature. However, Panic die-hards will miss hearing Cowboy and Indian calling each other “bastards,” presumably in accordance with the holiday spirit. It also makes Log somewhat more appropriate for the boundary-pushing NYICFF. Even still, the same ruckus vibe shines through.

In contrast to Cowboy and Indian’s bad behavior, the other standout of program one kindles the fires of youthful idealism and the spirit of discovery. Three classmates think they have unearthed a previously unseen fossil in Katerina Karhánková’s The New Species, but the adults just do not get it. It might be a simple story, but somehow Karhánková executes it with a tone that is both ironic and inspiring.

For animation connoisseurs, the Town Called Panic will be the main event, but the entire block is consistently entertaining. Jazz listeners will be particularly interested in Anna Kadykova’s The Mole at Sea, which features the stylish swinging of the Chizhik-Jazz-Quartet. Frankly, “In the Still of the Night” seems like a strange thematic choice to accompany the titular burrower on a Mr. Hulot-esque beach excursion, but so be it. On the other hand, Shakti-era John McLaughlin’s “Luki” is perfectly appropriate for Anna Khmeleskaya’s “The Centipede and the Toad,” a visually distinctive fable set amid India’s primordial rain forest. Recommended pretty highly for animation fans, especially those who appreciate a little stop motion slapstick comedy, the NYICFF’s Short Film Program One screens again Saturday (3/15), Sunday (3/23), Saturday (3/29), and Sunday (3/30) at various venues throughout the City.

Shirin in Love: Trying to Avoid a Big Fat Iranian Wedding

The affluent members of southern California’s Iranian-American community like to drink, dance, and party. They are way more fun than an army of Brooklyn hipsters, but parents still have very specific ideas about who their grown children should marry. One disorganized writer develops very different notions of her own in Ramin Niami’s Shirin in Love (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

To be honest, Shirin is more of an aspiring writer, but at least she cranks out book reviews for her overbearing mother Maryam’s lifestyle glossy. She also has trouble holding her liquor—something the sensitive brooder William soon learns first hand, by sheer chance. Having seen her at her sloppiest, he is rather surprised when she turns up in Northern California to interview Rachel Harson, his novelist mom. Both mother and son take a shine to the scatterbrained bombshell, but he is reluctant to admit it. As a further complication, she also happens to have a mother-approved fiancé and he has a mousy long-term girlfriend.

Shirin and William are so obviously head-over-heels, they will do all kinds of negligent things to sabotage their budding relationship. Of course, Shirin’s Mother Dearest is not about to stand by and watch her toss away her engagement to a plastic surgeon. Still, the colorful cast of supporting characters will help keep SIL on a standard rom-com trajectory.

Aside from a benign reference to the old country back-when, writer-director Niami never troubles viewers with dire circumstances of post-Revolutionary Iran, which is fair enough. People have to get on with their lives and Shirin’s family is about as far removed from the Islamist state as you can get. However, lead actress Nazanin Boniadi has evidently seen real life hardships of a different sort. According to Vanity Fair allegations supported by Paul Haggis, she was poorly treated by the Scientology machine when they auditioned her to be a certain actor’s sanctioned squeeze.

Frankly, you have to question his taste. SIL is pretty conventional stuff, but Boniadi just lights up the screen. On paper, her character’s persistent ditziness would look potentially tiresome, but she plays her with real warmth and charisma. She also has some nice scenes with Marshall Manesh as her hen-pecked father, Nader. Letterman’s old stand-up crony George Wallace similarly makes his shtick work as Officer Washington, the gruff old softie with literary ambitions. Amy Madigan is relentlessly earthy and likable as the mothering Harson, but not to an irredeemably annoying extent. However, Riley Smith’s William is so dour and lifeless it is hard to fathom the attraction, even if characters keep telling each other how good looking he supposedly is.

SIL is sort of like a Beverly Hills reality show or sitcom, with some heart and a promising star turn from Boniadi. It is all very bright and frothy, but never delves too deeply into the human condition. Recommended mostly for those looking for an inclusive, non-taxing date movie, Shirin in Love opens this Friday (3/14) in New York at the AMC Empire.

NYICFF ’14: Foosball

For some hardcore table soccer players, only absolutely clean goals count. That is more stringent than the rules laid down the international association, but nearly everyone frowns on three-sixty “spinnies.” However, all rule books get tossed out when an egomaniacal football (soccer) superstar challenges a nebbish table player in Juan José Campanella’s Foosball (trailer here), which screens (in 2D) during the 2014 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Amadeo’s son Mati thinks the old man is kind of a loser. Oh, but if he only knew the full story. In his old village home, Amadeo worked in the neighborhood bar and lovingly cared for the foosball table. He soon becomes the local champion, even besting the bullying Grosso. For years, this was his moment of glory and the foundation of his relationship with Laura, his almost girl friend. Unfortunately, Grosso has returned, having achieved fame and fortune as a footballer. It seems the thuggish Grosso has bought the town in its entirety and intends to bulldoze everything to make way for his grand football complex. Naturally, his first target is Amadeo’s foosball table, the symbol of his only defeat.

Thoroughly demoralized, he only manages to save the captain, whom comes alive like Frosty when christened with one of Amadeo’s tears. Soon Amadeo’s entire Foos team is animated and reunited, along with the Maroons, their Washington General rivals. Of course, the small metallic men will be no match for the brutish Grosso, but they will coach Amadeo when he is forced to challenge his nemesis to a match on the football field.

It is not hard to see why Foosball was a monster hit in Argentina. The animation is at a Pixar level and it features all kinds of football action. It is an unlikely follow-up to Campanella’s Oscar winning melancholy mystery, The Secret in Their Eyes, but Foosball shows a bit of an analog sensibility, preferring the physicality of foosball to insubstantial video games. Viewers are also clearly invited to disdain Grosso’s nouveau riche excesses.

Without question, the little foos men are the film’s not so secret weapons. Lovingly scratched and worn in appropriate detail, they cleverly send-up archetypes that will be familiar to even casual soccer watchers. Yet for adults, Grosso’s unapologetically corpulent and equally acerbic agent often steals the show.

Campanella scores a lot of laughs in Foosball, while saying quite a bit about fair play and self-respect. It is a lot of fun, but it actually is not the best Latin American animated film at this year’s NYICFF. That would be Alfredo Soderguit’s sweet and sensitive AninA, hailing from Uruguay. Still, young boys will probably dig Foosball more. Recommended for sports fans of all ages, Foosball screens again this coming Saturday (3/15) at the SVA Theater and Saturday the 29^th at the IFC Center, as this year’s NYICFF continues at venues throughout the City.

NYICFF ’14: Patema Inverted

Above ground, it is like George Orwell’s Oceania. Below ground, it is like Zion in Matrix: Revolutions, except this is a better film. It is easy to tell them apart, because the polarity of gravity is different for each. Yet, two young people will try to bridge the gap in Yasuhiro Yoshiura’s Patema Inverted (trailer here), which screens during the 2014 New York International Children’s Film Festival.

Those who live above are pulled down, whereas those who live below are pushed up. Obviously, whenever the latter leave their underground warrens, they run the risk of floating out of the atmosphere. Nevertheless, their princess, Patema, has the compulsion to explore, much like her missing and presumed dead father figure, Lagos. Oddly enough, something similar happened to surface-dweller Age’s father.  He invented a flying machine that went up, but never came down.

Being his father’s son, Age is out of step with the Aiga police state, so he instinctively protects Patema when she strays too far into his world. However, he is no match for the evil overlord Izamura’s secret police. With Patema captured, Age seeks refuge below ground, learning first-hand what is like to live an upside-down existence.

While Inverted has the trappings of dystopian science fiction, it is really more of fantasy at heart. Much of what transpires would be difficult to explain scientifically, so Yoshiura hardly bothers. Sure, some scientific experiment tampered with gravity way back when, but that is just the opening premise. Inverted opens up into a big, cosmic canvas, where up and down are never constant. Frankly, it might be one of the most dizzying films ever made—and it is in good old fashioned 2D.

Like Yoshiura’s excellent Time of Eve, Inverted is built around a high concept, but it does not have the same human touch as his prior NYICFF selection (which is an ironic thing to write, considering Eve is all about human-android interaction). Patema and Age are plucky and likable, with psychologically complex backstories, but they still are not as fully realized characters as those in Eve. Of course, Yoshiura set the bar really high in that film.

Still, by big budget animation standards, Inverted is quite thoughtful and engaging. It would make an interesting double feature with Cuarón’s Gravity, while Eve could be nicely paired up with Jonze’s Her. Easily recommended for its rich visuals and idealistic sensibilities, Patema Inverted screens again Saturday March 22^nd at the SVA Theater, as the 2014 NYICFF continues over the next three weekends at venues throughout Manhattan. Future screenings will include the absolutely charming AninA and the appealing Annie: It’s a Hard Knock Life.

WJFF ’14: When Jews Were Funny

If you take the comic out of the Catskills, do you take the Catskills out of the comedy? That is sort of the question Alan Zweig will ask several generations of Jewish comedians. Opinions will vary in documentarian Zweig’s When Jews Were Funny (trailer here), which screens today and tomorrow at the 2014 Washington Jewish Film Festival.

When Ed Sullivan ruled the airwaves, all the best comics were Jewish—or at least that is how Zweig remembers it. Essentially, he proceeds to prompt a number of comedians to confirm his presumptions that there is something about the Jewish experience that makes those of their shared faith more apt to embrace comedy as a means of dealing with personal and collective adversity. Yet, that particularly Jewish brand of humor has largely shaped the comedy of the mass media age.

However, senior comedians like Shelley Berman and Jack Carter have no idea what Zweig is talking about. They just happened to be comedians who were Jewish and spoke Yiddish fluently. In contrast, comedians from Zweig’s generation, like David Steinberg and David Brenner, are completely on his wavelength.  The various younger generations line-up all over the place, such as Marc Maron, who basically argues Zweig is fetishizing Jewish stereotypes.

If that sounds awkward, it is nothing compared to Zweig’s “interview” with Alan “Super Dave Osbourne” Einstein, who appears to be on the verge of coming to blows with the filmmaker (if it’s a bit, he sells it brilliantly).  In fact, part of the charm of WJWF is listening to Zweig break every possible rule of documentary filmmaking. His questions are often vague and repetitive, his preparation is dubious, and he personalizes everything, all of which is rather conducive to comedy.

There are a few archival clips here and there, but Zweig mainly trusts his interview subjects to keep things interesting, which is ironic considering how little faith many of them have in his concept. Yet, despite or because of all that, WJWF is consistently funny and highly watchable, especially by talking head standards.

As an authoritative study of the cultural-religious roots of comedy, WJWF is a train wreck, but it is a highly entertaining and appealingly messy catalyst for a lot of riffing and joke-telling. Even Howie Mandel is funny at times. Recommended for those who appreciate an old school comedy fix, When Jews Were Funny screens tonight (3/8) and tomorrow (3/9) as part of the2014 WJFF.

Haunt: A House is not a Home

If you have seen The Grudge, you understand the dead are rather angry at the world in general. As it happens there are very specific reasons why the Ashers’ new house does not have such a homey feel. Their teenage son and his new girlfriend will find themselves caught up in the supernatural goings on in Mac Carter’s Haunt (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

Evidently, Evan Asher has some issues in the past, but his parents initially think this move will be good for him, especially, when he immediately picks up with Sam, a nice girl from the trailer park side of the tracks. Unfortunately, his room is right next to the house’s secret cellar door, where it all went down, whatever it was. Coming across an old radio tube contraption of a Ouija board, the teens inadvertently stir up the angry presences even more.

Although the Asher parents remain duly oblivious, freaky things start happening. Yet, Sam still prefers crashing at their house than dealing with her abusive father. Jane Morello, the mother and only surviving member of the previous family, ought to have some insight into the house’s dark history, but she is reluctant to talk, except to provide the film’s occasional voice-overs.

Haunt is a good example of how a horror film can realize a very creepy vibe on a limited budget. All the ominous nooks and crannies of the house and that cursed box give the film a memorable look. While the narrative is relatively simple, Carter does not blatantly telegraph the final shoe to drop. In fact, following the big reveal, he wraps it up rather precipitously, almost seeming rushed.

The kids are at least alright in Haunt, particularly Liana Liberato, who comes across much more natural and grounded than the cringey problem daughters she played in Erased and the train wreck that was Trespass. Harrison Gilbertson helps make amends for Virginia’s manic-depressive melodrama with his reasonably restrained and engaging work as the teenaged Asher. It is a little mind-blowing to see Ione Skye (from Say Anything and River’s Edge) as the clueless mom, but she is fine adhering to minimal demands of the time-honored stock character. However, it is Jacki Weaver who really gets to chew some scenery in her all too brief appearances as the widow Morello.

Ironically, Haunt probably would have been less effective if it had greater resources at its disposal. Flashy special effects would have ruined the intimate scares. Ragged around the edges, but respectably scrappy, Haunt is recommended for horror movie fans when it opens today (3/7) in New York at the IFC Center.

Tabloid Truth: The Rumor Mill Kills

It is downright ugly when the press and the government start colluding. When a well-connected corporation gets in on the game, it becomes a perfect storm of corruption. However, the world’s’ only honest talent manager will stand up to them in Kim Kwang-sik’s Tabloid Truth (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in Los Angeles and next Friday in New York.

While paying dues at a large agency, Lee Woo-gon instantly recognizes the raw talent of Choi Mi-jin, but his bosses prefer to push the questionable talent they already have under contract. Striking out on his own, Lee builds Choi’s career to the brink of superstardom. In a cruel twist of fate, a malicious rumor published in an e-newsletter for elites romantically links Choi to a much older congressman just as they start to enjoy real success. Lee struggles to control the damage, but the media has already cast its verdict. When Choi subsequently commits suicide, Lee vows to avenge her.

He starts with the e-scandal sheet, but the small staff led by Mr.Park are just lowly, resentful pawns in a much bigger game. After a rough introduction, Park and his lieutenant Miss Kim help trace to the source of rumor, eventually leading Lee to the national government’s Office of Planning and the O&C Corporation. Unfortunately, Cha Sung-joo and his private security firm seem to have the drop on the crusading manager, in a decidedly painful way.

There is definitely something Zeigeisty about the film’s portrayal of digital tabloid journalism and its obsequious relationship with government officials. The anti-corporate pivot is rather predictable and overplayed, but the film sort of lives in a paranoid place where Tea Party alarmism and Occupy thuggery intersect.

Tabloid is only Kim’s second feature as a director and his first crack at the thriller genre, but he shows a real command of pacing. Shrewdly, Lee is portrayed as a tough customer, but not a superman by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, the film gets a lot of mileage out of the savage beatdowns he endures, out of sheer hard-headedness. Still, the chemistry shown in early scenes and flashbacks between Kim Kang-woo’s Lee and Ko Won-hee’s Choi is surprisingly touching.

Those familiar with Koran cinema will also recognize a host of familiar faces amongst the supporting cast, especially Ko Chang-seok (from Quick, Hello Ghost, etc), who supplies comic relief as Baek Moon, Mr. Park’s surveillance specialist, but keeps the shtick relatively restrained. Park Sung-woong is also effectively cold-blooded and serpentine as the ruthless Mr. Cha, whereas Jeong Jin-yeong convincingly plays Mr. Park as a man of somewhat more years and considerably more mileage.

Without question, Tabloid successfully taps into people’s frustration with all things big and overly collegial. Nevertheless, its thriller mechanics work to the extent they do because of the very human foundation laid down by the cast, particularly Kim Kang-woo and Ko Won-hee. Recommended on the basis of their work rather than any potential socio-economic implications, Tabloid Truth opens tomorrow (3/7) in Los Angeles at the CGV Cinemas and next Friday (3/14) in New York (Flushing) at the AMC Bay Terrace.

Special ID: Donnie Yen Gets Tattooed

If Chen Zilong is ever going to return to regular Hong Kong police force, he will have to fix those gangster tattoos. For the time being, they are part of his undercover guise, as ruthless enforcer Dragon Chen. However, it will become increasingly difficult to maintain his cover amid an ensuing power struggle in Clarence Fok Yiu-leung’s Special ID (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Chen’s English is iffy, but his martial arts skills are top-notch. Despite his clandestine mission, Chen loyally defends his juniors-in-crime during the film’s getting-to-know-you dust-up. After the restaurant melee, Chen starts to seriously doubt his position with the big boss. He also hears reports his former protégé Lo Chi-wai is up to no good on the Mainland.   Following his trail to Nanhai, Chen teams up with local detective Fang Jing, who takes issue with his cowboy style. She might be a stickler for regs, but the former Olympic marksman can shoot and fight.

Right so, Donnie Yen stars as Chen and serves as the primary action director.  Any questions? Granted, the interpersonal drama is kind of awkward to watch, but the fight choreography is dazzlingly cinematic, yet gritty and in-your-face personal. The film’s real bonus is Jing Tian, who shows spectacular action chops as Fang Jing. In fact, she takes the honors in the film’s best fight sequence, set entirely inside a speeding car—one of the best close quarters throw-downs perhaps ever. She also has considerable charisma, rolling with Yen’s goofball charm as well as can be expected.

The significance of the unruly HK cop and the by-the-book Mainlander sounds pretty blatant, but Fok never overplays the ideological implications of their Odd Couple partnership. Frankly, the narrative-by-committee is about as stripped down and functional as it can get, despite contributions from recently deceased screenwriter Szeto Kam-yuen (who penned Yen’s SPL and the moody Louis Ko noir, Accident).

Still, if you believe fight choreography is an art form, Special ID will only strengthen your conviction. Fifty year-old Yen proves he still has his mojo and Jing should become everyone’s new movie crush. Just like Shu Qi in Journey to the West, she proves Chinese language actresses often get to do cooler stuff than their American counterparts. Recommended for fans of martial arts and gangster movies, Special ID opens this Friday (3/7) in New York at the Village East.

War of the Worlds: Goliath—Teddy Roosevelt Gets His Independence Day On

You would think if H.G. Wells’ Martians could master space travel and death rays, they could also develop antibiotics. It turns out they have shored up their immunological vulnerabilities and have come back for more in Joe Pearson’s animated feature War of the Worlds: Goliath (trailer here), which opens in select cities this Friday.

Germs saved our butts in 1899, but the vigilant understand it is only a matter of time before the Martians return for round two. Under the leadership of U.S. Secretary of War Teddy Roosevelt, the multinational A.R.E.S. defense force is formed, employing abandoned Martian technology reverse-engineered by their science advisor, Nikolai Tesla. However, by 1914, tensions in Europe threaten to pull A.R.E.S. apart.

Captain Wells struggles to hold his team together, but he has issues stemming from the first Martian invasion, when he witnessed his parents getting zapped. The IRA also hopes to capitalize on the potential European war, striking the British with advanced weaponry they expect Corporal Patrick O’Brien to steal from A.R.E.S. Obviously, this would be a good time for Mars to attack.

Ordinarily, you do not expect steampunk science fiction with a touch of art deco from a Malaysian animation studio, but here Goliath is, with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles co-creator Kevin Eastman on-board as executive producer. While the jaws of its characters could not possibly be any squarer, it creates a surprisingly cool world, where A.R.E.S. battles Martians with era-appropriate biplanes and EVA-Jaeger-style tripods, the latest model being the titular Goliath, piloted by Captain Wells and his crew.

Frankly, the warfighting scenes are more graphic than you might expect, particularly for those unfortunate enough to get caught in the Martians’ flesh-melting lasers. However, the historical details are sort of clever, including the hotshot Captain Von  Richthofen, engaging the Martians’ air support as the ace of A.R.E.S. Wells’ backstory and his relationships with his squad members are a bit clichéd, but Goliath has a real ace in the hole. Any film that features Teddy Roosevelt shooting Martians earns a pass.

Since it exists in an alternate universe, Goliath manages to be both hawkish and internationalist in its galactic world view. The animation is might be just a cut above passable (if that), but the world-building details are well thought out. Fans of the Highlander television series will be particularly interested in its voice cast, which includes Adrian Paul, Elizabeth Gracen, and Jim Byrnes (probably best known for Wiseguy), with the latter being a standout as Roosevelt. It is not a classic, but it is fun in an ambitious meathead sort of way. Recommended for fans of H.G. Wells and T.R. looking for an animated distraction, War of the Worlds: Goliath opens this Friday (3/7) in select theaters.

Journey to the West: Stephen Chow Unleashes the Monkey King

Wu Cheng’en’s classic Ming era novel is a big thick multi-volume work that has inspired many film adaptations drawn from various points throughout its epic time frame. Still, you might not find the exact story of Stephen Chow’s latest comedic spectacle in there, but several of the characters will certainly be familiar. The Monkey King and his fellow demons will tangle with a young and awkward Xuan Zang in Chow & co-director Derek Kwok’s Journey to the West (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

As a novice demon hunter, Xuan Zang hardly seems likely to reach enlightenment. However, he will do his best to fight the water demon plaguing a provincial fishing village in the go-for-broke opening sequence. While he is more effective than the charlatan that took the first crack at the creature, he is no match for the prowess of Miss Duan, a demon hunter extraordinaire. She does not think much of his use of a collection of nursery rhymes to appeal to the demons’ inner youthful goodness. Nevertheless, she falls for Xuan Zang hard, which confuses the devout Buddhist no end.

While Miss Duan handles the Water Demon with relative ease, KL Hogg (the Pig Demon) turns out to be elusively slippery.  Their pursuit of the latter will bring them into uncomfortably close contact with Sun Wukong, the Monkey King. At this point, all bets are off.

Wen Zhang (recognizable from Ocean Heaven) is appropriately wide-eyed and innocent as Xuan Zang, but the film is completely dominated by Shu Qi. As Miss Duan she shows all kinds of moves and a flair for physical humor we never knew she had in her. Watching her kick demon butt is a sight to behold, but it demonstrates the superior action opportunities for actresses in Chinese language cinema, especially when contrasted with their Hollywood counterpoints.

The prospective Expendabelles film is a case in point, with the embarrassing casting rumors centering around Meryl Streep (all dingos beware), Geena Davis (because nobody could ever get enough of Cutthroat Island), and Linda Hamilton (granted, T2 was great action film, over twenty years ago). On the other hand, every major Chinese language star takes on action roles throughout their careers, as a matter of course. Recent examples include Gwei Lun Mei in Flying Swords of Dragon Gate, Zhou Xun in the same film, as well as The Great Magician, Michelle Yeoh in nearly all her films, with Reign of Assassins being a recent example, Angelababy in Tai Chi Zero, Ziyi Zhang in The Grandmaster, and Mi Yang in Wu Dang. Now its Shu Qi’s turn and she makes the most of it.

When Shu Qi does her thing, Journey is wildly fun. Nevertheless, Chow did not return to the Monkey King character that made his name and reputation in A Chinese Odyssey just for a quick paycheck. As a reboot/prequel/film-within-the-margins, Journey starts as a massive beatdown and explodes on a cosmic scale, ending with more divine retribution than you will find in the entire Left Behind franchise. The message is simple—do not tick off Buddha.

So you have Shu Qi, a trio of demons, and an apocalyptic showdown. What more could you possibly need?  On the micro level, Ku Huen Chiu’s action choreography is impressively cinematic yet true to Chow’s eccentric aesthetic. On the macro level, Ken Law’s special effects really do not look like anything we have seen before. Plus “pseudo-model”-turned actress Chrissie Chau appears as Miss Duan’s lieutenant, Killer Four, giving her lessons in seduction that go fantastically awry. This is indeed the full assault to the senses Chow’s fans have been waiting for. Recommended with the enthusiasm of a fanboy, Journey to the West opens this Friday (3/7) in New York at the Cinema Village.

Grand Piano: Don’t Shoot the Piano Player

Pianist Thomas Selznick has done the nearly impossible, creating buzz for contemporary classical music. Much to his embarrassment, he did so by crashing and burning during an attempt to perform his late mentor’s “impossible to play” composition. After years of nursing his wounds, his celebrity wife has coaxed him into making his concert hall return, playing the very piano once owned by his famous teacher. However, a criminal mastermind will hijack the program in Eugenio Mira’s Grand Piano (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Before the show begins, Selznick’s friend and conductor William Reisinger counsels him not to sweat a flubbed note. Considering the density of the music they are about to perform, nobody in the audience will possibly notice. It is good advice musicians of all styles should take to heart. Unfortunately, Selznick will not have that option. Instead, the shadowy “Clem” demands, through an earpiece secretly slipped to Selznick, that he must play each selection perfectly. One missed note and it is curtains for him and his wife, Emma.

Of course, it gets even more complicated. Clem also has a last minute set change. For his solo closer, Selznick is to substitute “La Cinquette,” the very piece that gave him so much trouble before. Naturally, his mentor owned a Bösendorfer, because his unplayable piece requires those extra keys. As the concert progresses towards it climax, Selznick engages in a cat-and-mouse game with the gunman, while remaining rooted at the keyboard, in plain view to all.

Written by Damien Chazelle, this year’s Sundance sensation for Whiplash, Grand Piano has a nice ear for how musician’s talk and think. Shrewdly, his script takes its time establishing the Selznicks and Reisinger, as well as the elite classical world they inhabit. Mira also sets the scene quite effectively, making the mostly digital concert hall feel like a very real and ominous place.

Evidently, Elijah Wood’s youthful piano lessons paid off, because he looks credible enough at the keys. More importantly, he conveys the perfect level of nervous, ticky stress for a socially awkward artist like Selznick. Don McManus also adds a nice touch of flamboyance as Reisinger. Frankly, the revelation of the actor playing Clem feels like it is intended to be a surprise, even though his name is above the title on the one-sheet. In any event, he is more or less adequate as the mystery villain, even though Grand Piano is by far his best film since at least 2003. In contrast, it is safe to say Bill & Ted’s Alex Winter largely upstages the mostly unseen Clem as his henchman with an attitude.

Grand Piano is a nifty thriller that archly capitalizes on the claustrophobic setting and the neurotic nature expected from musicians of Selznick’s rarified caliber. Cinematographer Unax Mendia gives it a wonderfully dark, stylish look, suggesting a cross between giallos and Hitchcock (whose Royal Albert Hall sequence in The Man Who Knew Too Much stands as an obvious inspiration for the film). Well played and tightly constructed, Grand Piano is enthusiastically recommended when it opens this Friday (3/7) in New York at the Cinema Village.

WJFF ’14: Regina

She was raised in the Orthodox tradition, but was ordained as Berlin’s first female rabbi, recognizing no inherent contradiction between the two. Her historic career, tragically cut short by the National Socialists, is profiled in Diana Groó’s Regina, which screens this week during the 2014 Washington Jewish Film Festival.

Regina Jonas grew up in turn-of-the-century Berlin’s desperately poor Eastern European immigrant neighborhood—the ghetto before the ghetto, so it is not hard to surmise her ultimate fate. However, Jonas’s formative years were rather extraordinary, because her Orthodox father insisted she receive an education, alongside her brother. At an early age, Jonas showed an aptitude for religious instruction, which she would pursue for the rest of her life.

After years of study and struggle, Jonas was finally ordained, with the support of both reformists and select Orthodox mentors. Nonetheless, her accomplishment proved quite controversial, nearly splitting Berlin’s Jewish community. Ironically, the National Socialists inadvertently hastened her acceptance, by making rabbis so ominously scarce in the city.  During grim times, Jonas’s sermons were a source of strength and consolation to many, but she would soon share the fate of so many of her fellow Jewish Berliners.

At just over an hour, Regina is a relatively short film, but regrettably, Jonas lived a relatively short life.  Since there is only one surviving photo of her, Groó mostly relies on archival footage of the period that conveys a strong sense of time and place.  While necessarily limiting, she often gives the visuals a stylistic tweak, zooming in, slowing down, and hazing over images for an effect not unlike Guy Maddin’s films. In truth, it mostly works quite well. Yet, it is the powerful minimalist guitar score composed and performed by Dániel Kardos (somewhat reminiscent of Gary Lucas’s original silent film projects) that makes the film so distinctive.

Regina is a well intentioned film that features sensitive voice-overs (most notably from Rachel Weisz). It is tasteful and to-the-point, but it is the haunting photo of Jonas and Kardos’ eerie soundtrack that will make the greatest impression on the viewer’s consciousness.  Respectfully recommended, Regina screens this Wednesday (3/5) and Thursday (3/6) as part of the Washington Jewish Film Festival.

Golino’s Honey

She is a one-person drug mule and agent of death. Not surprisingly, she is very much inclined to keep people at arm’s length. Personal connections do indeed lead to complications for the clandestine euthanasia activist in international movie-star Valeria Golino’s assured feature directorial debut, Honey (“Euro” trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Clearly, the euthanasia debate has captured the Italian zeitgeist, considering Honey follows Marco Bellocchio’s Dormant Beauty with an even more ambiguous take on the prohibited practice. Irene (a.k.a. Honey) is an ardent believer in the right to die and the duty to assist. Regularly, she travels to southern California, where she nips across the border for veterinarian-grade doggie downers that evidently have the advantage of being hard to detect in the human body. She also administers the drugs, or at least facilitates their use, with clients referred by her former lover, a doctor who shares her convictions.

Irene’s house-calls follow a set pattern, involving soothing music, clear consent, and multiple opportunities to opt out. The latter rarely happens. However, her ethical compass starts to reel after making a delivery to retired architect Carlo Grimaldi. In a follow-up conversation, he admits he is not terminally ill, but simply tired of this mortal coil. Feeling alarmed and slightly betrayed, Irene rushes to “save” Grimaldi, which he does not take kindly to, at least not initially. Yet, as she persists in a calmer manner, something begins to develop between the two—not exactly friendship or a surrogate father-daughter relationship, but maybe a little of both.

It is strange to think such a mature, ethically thorny drama was directed by the co-star of Hot Shots! Part Deux and Big Top Pee-Wee, but here it is—and it really is quite a fine work. Golino is clearly an actors’ director, but she crafts some visually stylish sequences that still never break the film’s intensely personal and private vibe. Irene is a profoundly reserved character, whose guarded nature is a deliberate defense strategy. Yet, thanks to Jasmine Trinca’s exquisitely subtle performance and Golino’s evocative framing, viewers always have a sense of where her head is at, each and every moment. She is a powerful screen presence, conveying earthy sexuality, despite her androgynous look.

Trinca also develops some remarkably rich and unclassifiable chemistry with veteran Italian stage thesp Carlo Cecchi as the inconvenient Grimaldi.  Together, they make it impossible to boil their connection down to an easy cliché. In fact, the entire film defies reductive labeling, supplying elements during each “mercy” mission that either side of the euthanasia debate might interpret to their own ends.

Given its slow and somewhat repetitive start, Honey is a film viewers need to “stick with,” but it is worth the early investment. It is a work of unusual emotional intelligence that resists the siren temptation to play favorites on such a divisive issue. Recommended for those who appreciate intimate character studies, Honey opens this Friday (3/7) in New York at the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center.

Titanic – Band of Courage: That was a Tough Gig

Conservatory-trained Roger Marie Bricoux’s first ocean-liner gig was on the RMS Carpathia, which is best remembered for saving survivors of the RMS Titanic, which happened to be his last seafaring job, for obvious reasons. Considered paragons of the “show must go on” ethos, the dignity and tragic irony of the Titanic musicians’ lives are chronicled in Titanic—Band of Courage (promo here), a PBS special airing in select markets around the country over the next two weeks or so.

Sadly, none of the Titanic band-members lived to gig again. As most everyone knows, there was that whole business with an iceberg and an awkward lifeboat shortage. Matters could have gotten really ugly, but the musicians started playing to calm the passengers’ nerves. According to survivors, it really worked.

The night to remember offers no shortage of drama, but for viewers who are not Titanic junkies, Band of Courage also offers an intriguing glimpse into the lives of working musicians during the late Edwardian era. Essentially straddling the lower middle class and upper working class, the ocean liner musicians were required to be proficient in a variety of styles, including operetta, light classical, ragtime, and Tin Pan Alley. They had to be polished enough to withstand the shallow criticism of bored patrons and charismatic enough to earn their tip money. Scottish violinist John Law Hume was a natural in that respect.

Technically, there were two Titanic ensembles: a quintet and a string trio. Reportedly, they only played together on that fateful night, but they shared a common repertoire, collected and conveniently numbered in the Titanic songbook. To give viewers a sense of their sound, a contemporary septet (a piano and six strings) performs each song under discussion as various talking heads weigh in, most notably including Hume’s grandson (whom he never met) and Steve Turner, the author of The Band that Played On.

Musicians and their friends will be particularly fascinating by the details of the ocean liner musicians’ working lives during the Gilded Age. Evidently, the agents handling the White Star Line’s exclusive bookings were not especially ethical or compassionate, suggesting some things in show business never change. Frankly, viewers are likely to conclude the eight musicians in question were not well served by their somewhat cartoonish portrayal in the bloated Cameron Oscar-winner. Interesting from both a musical and historical perspective, Band of Courage comes with convenient places to put pledge breaks, so do not be surprised if someone interrupts the broadcast to ask you for money.  Recommended for fans of string music and the infamously unsinkable ocean liner, Titanic—Band of Courage airs on participating PBS stations throughout the March 1-16 window.

A Celebration of Blues & Soul: the 1989 Inaugural Concert Rediscovered and Restored

It was a Texas kind of night in D.C. A concert bill that featured the likes of Billy Preston, Albert Collins, Stevie Ray Vaughan, and Delbert McClinton certainly reminds us of Texas’s contributions to blues, soul, and R&B. Ostensibly, the show was part of the inaugural festivities of President George H.W. Bush, another Texan, by choice. Of course, inaugurations are really just an excuse to party, which is definitely the vibe of A Celebration of Blue & Soul: the 1989 Inaugural Concert (promo here), which airs nationally on participating PBS stations during the March 1-16 pledge drive.

Long feared lost to the ages, the multi-camera recordings of the inauguration night bash have been rediscovered and restored, with a longer DVD release planned for the future. Naturally, Bush campaign manager and former Percy Sledge sideman Lee Atwater served as the honorary chairman of the concert and the invisible hand behind the scenes bringing it all together. After his greeting, the shorter PBS version launches into Dr. John’s “Right Place, Wrong Time,” perhaps the most perfunctory performance of the evening.  Next, Atwater’s old boss Sledge gives the crowd what it wants: “When a Man Loves a Woman,” for probably the 500,000^th time in his career, but he still does his thing with genuine feeling.

Obviously, the 1989 concert has been edited with an eye towards greatest hits to make it pledge drive friendly, but just about everyone brought their A-game for their signature tunes. Eddie Floyd shows the showmanship of an old pro on “Knock on Wood,” while Sam Moore lays down the authority on “Soul Man,” backed by musical director Billy Preston and Stax veterans Steve Cropper and Donald “Duck” Dunn.

Clearly, there is a lot of real deal blues on the program, including legendary Chess Records mainstay Willie Dixon performing “Hoochie Coochie Man,” which represents the height of blues authenticity. Albert Collins also gets his solo spotlight on “Frosty” (along with his protégé, Vaughan) as does McClinton on “Just a Little Bit.” Most of the artists are backed by the funky ensemble led by Preston and featuring Dunn and Cropper (but alas multi-reed jazzman Patience Higgins is not prominently spotlighted in the PBS cut). Of course, Bo Diddley brought in his own band, because that was how he rolled. He also had Ronnie Wood sit-in on the classic “Bo Diddley Beat” strutter, “Hey, Bo Diddley.”

For understandable reasons, Stevie Ray Vaughan is the only artist allotted more than one number (this is pledge season after all), but he sure could play. He also closes the show with some fittingly nonpartisan, patriotic life-affirming sentiments. It is depressing to think only a year and a half later his own life would be cut short in helicopter crash, while he was still at the absolute peak of his powers. Indeed, the 1989 Inaugural concert captures for posterity many late greats in an appreciative setting, performing the songs that made them famous.

This is a great week for music on PBS. While the 1989 Inaugural Concert does not offer as many surprises as last night’s Jazz and the Philharmonic, it cooks along nicely. The concert itself is a lot of good, clean, soulful fun, but do not be surprised if someone asks you for money at least once during the broadcast.  Recommended for fans of blues and Stax-style Memphis soul, A Celebration of Blue & Soul: the 1989 Inaugural Concert airs twice today (3/1) on New York’s Thirteen and can be seen on PBS outlets throughout the country over the next two weeks.

(Photos: Randy Santos)