Oceans are the Real Continents

According to one character, the heat and humidity makes time pass slowly in the rural Cuban town of San Antonio. The nearly complete absence of economic activity does not help either. The slow speed of life somewhat appropriately gets a “slow cinema” treatment in Italian director-screenwriter Tommasso Santambrogio’s Oceans are the Real Continents, which is now playing in New York.

Alex and Edith are lovers, at least until she defects during her upcoming puppetry performance abroad. Aside from him, there isn’t much keeping her in Cuba—and he doesn’t seem to have much personality. Frank and Alain are kids, who can still amuse themselves. Yet they still dream of baseball glory in America. Milagros is a pilar of the community, but she lives in the past, constantly rereading the letters her late husband sent before he died serving as part of Cuba’s militaristic adventurism in Angola. Thanks in part to his sacrifice, Angola continues to be a one-party dictatorship, rated “unfree” by Freedom House.

This is definitely the sort of film that would have a much greater impact if some of its parts were broken down that it has in its current form. By far, the sequences featuring Milagros Llanes Martinez as her namesake are the most meaningful. There is no competition. Had her scenes been edited into a short film, it would be quite a powerful work. It is also worth noting several arrestingly composed scenes of Edith’s marionettes in performance, which might have also constituted a diverting short.

Invaders from Proxima B, on Fandango at Home

"Chuck" is a lot like Alf, but he can also body-switch. He is a gruff little troublemaker, but a Hollywood musician and his family decide to help anyway in director-screenwriter-lead actor Ward Roberts’ Invaders from Proxima B, which premieres today on Fandango at Home.

Fleeing his not very-Roddenberry-esque alien planet in a stolen flying saucer, Chuck crash-lands in Howie Jankins’ backyard. Of course, his wife Jane did not see anything, but he is sure there is something out there, so the next morning he calls Nathan Droogal, the world’s most annoying fire-and-brimstone exterminator. While Droogal hunts demonic vermin, Chuck reveals himself to Jankins, claiming to be on a mission to save planet Earth. Reluctantly, Jankins agrees to let Chuck temporarily switch bodies with him. Maybe he was a bit gullible, but coming face-to-face with a furry space puppet is bound to be convincing.

Nevertheless, things get a bit sticky when Wily and Marvin Felson start poking around. The father and son agents of a secret alien-liaison organization have been ordered to facilitate Chuck’s extradition. They also hope to get a kickback for their efforts. As the chaos mounts, Jankins accidentally uses Chuck’s body-switching powers on his wife, creating a real mess.

Viewers might initially fear Roberts’ extreme DIY aesthetic will lead to deliberately cheesy low-brow humor. However, Proxima is surprisingly inventive. Most of the special effects involve a puppet who looks like Oscar the Grouch’s cousin. Yet, it also boasts some reasonably slick-looking animated segments depicting Chuck’s flashbacks.

Fantasia ’22: Demigod, the Legend Begins

Instead of wire-fu, this martial arts epic uses glove-fu and CGI animation. The art of Budaixi, Chinese glove puppetry, is alive and well in Taiwan, where Pili Puppetry has been a television hit since the mid-1980s. It turns out some of the world’s best wuxia comes from the independent nation of Taiwan. Su Huan-jen is one of its great heroes. Fans get his stand-alone origin story in Huang Wen-Chang’s Demigod: The Legends, which screened during the 2022 Fantasia International Film Festival.

As the film opens, Su Huan-jen is still young and slightly irresponsible. Yet, he still manages to help a big Wookie-like animist god win his battle against his more reptilian rival. Su is already deeply in debt to library, so he jumps at the chance to heal its patron, the Lord of Globe Castle. Unfortunately, this provides a perfect opportunity to frame the young apprentice for the Lord’s murder.

The Lord’s adopted son knows Su didn’t do it. The Princess isn’t so sure, but the Lord’s sinister brother is thrilled to finally have access to the book of cosmic knowledge Su had been searching for. All the chaos is an open invitation for rival Lord of the Evil Kingdom to invade, so Su will have a real war on his hands.

Huang really is one of the best martial arts filmmakers working today. He just works with puppets rather people. Screenwriters Huang Liang-hsun and He Yuan-yu give us a story worthy of vintage Shaw Brothers, if they could have afforded the giant kaiju special effects. Demigod even manages to surprise us with a couple twists. The sets, costumes, and design work are spectacular, especially the library. Of course, the puppetry martial arts are totally cool. That’s what the Huang family does best.

Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea: The Deadly Dolls

For fans of Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, it is chance to see her old pal Vincent Price in a new context. If MST3K is more your thing, Gypsy’s beloved Richard Basehart was one of the regular stars. If neither appeals to you, chances are you might be a bit befuddled by one of the weirdest episodes of dramatic TV ever produced. Vincent Price and his evil little friends try to take down the crew of the Seaview in “The Deadly Dolls” episode of Irwin Allen’s Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (written by Charles Bennett and directed by Harry Harris), which airs this coming Saturday night on ME TV.

While docking for supplies, the charming Professor Multiple performs a puppet show for the Seaview, gently lampooning the submarine’s officers. It is a great hit, but oddly, his marionettes look inexplicably featureless after the show. That’s because they will become doppelgangers for crew members, once Multiple starts his body-snatching campaign. Eventually, even Admiral Harriman Nelson is replaced by an especially nasty, smart-alecky puppet. Only Captain Lee B. Crane (played by David Hedison, Price’s co-star in The Fly) remains free, shimmying through airducts and crawlspaces (on a sub, mind you), like he is Bruce Willis in Nakatomi Plaza.

It is hard to describe how tripped out these devious little puppets are, like an unholy union of Sid & Marty Krofft with Avenue Q. Honestly, they make Vincent Price look reserved in comparison. You have to see it to believe it, especially the puppet that looks like Basehart’s Nelson, who sort of sounds like a megalomaniacal Alf (the sitcom alien).

Judy & Punch: Puppeteers Act Like Puppets

They were the puppets who put the slap in slapstick (and the stick). Punch & Judy shows are now rather infamous for their mirthful treatment of domestic abuse, but traditional shows always ended badly for the reprehensible Punch. He would be lucky to merely wind up at the gallows, because more often than not, the devil himself came to claim Punch’s loutish soul. Arguably, this feminist morality play lets its meta Punch puppeteer off easy because it lacks the fire and brimstone of its way-back-when inspiration, but what unfolds is still not exactly subtle. This time, Judy will have her revenge in screenwriter-director Mirrah Foulkes’ Judy & Punch, which releases today on-demand.

“Professor” Punch and his wife Judy have returned to the 16^th Century town of Seaside (far from the sea, according to the film’s running joke), after his mean drunk temper forced them to abandon more profitable engagements. The truth is, Judy is the better puppeteer, but she lets Punch take the bows for their Punch & Judy shows. Unfortunately, Punch cannot help reverting to his old drunken ways, but this time his negligent behavior causes the death of their infant son (although this is a staple of old school Punch & Judy shows, it is rather shocking to see it in a live action film).

When confronted, the guilty Punch lashes out and kills her too, or so he assumes. It turns out Punch doesn’t quite finish the job. However, after disposing of her almost but not entirely lifeless body, he capitalizes on Seaside’s superstition and intolerance, framing the elderly servants who were hosting he and Judy for his own crimes.

Foulkes struggles to find the right tone throughout J&P, which might be why the attempts at black humor only land sporadically. On the other hand, she incorporates the narrative elements of traditional Punch & Judy shows in clever ways. She also ties in all together into a satisfying third act that serves as a contemporary riff on Arthur Miller’s The Crucible, while deliberately echoing the rude absurdity of Terry Gilliam and Monty Python’s Medieval mayhem.

BHFF ’19: The Haunted Swordsman (short)

Anyone who knows classic Japanese cinema knows there was more to fear during the Edo era than ronin and ninja. There were also Kwaidan-style ghosts and so-called Onibaba demon-hags. A ronin bent on avenging his shogun master will face the latter as the first challenge of his quest in puppetry-filmmaker Kevin McTurk’s wildly cool short film The Haunted Swordsman, which screens during the Brooklyn Horror Film Festival.

Technically, the squared jawed samurai failed his lord. That is why he is now a ronin. However, it is hard to blame him, given the powers of the demonic monster that consumed the shogun. The ronin has pledged to avenge him, but he realizes he will need some powerful help, most likely of a supernatural nature, to get the job done. Fortunately, he has a decapitated death’s head that will serve as his reluctant “Navigator” of the spirit-haunted regions. We had better listen to him, because his voice is supplied (quite eerily) by the great James Hong (and Christopher Lloyd provides the sinister speech of one of the truly monstrous figures).

We can’t wait to see a full feature from McTurk, because Haunted Swordsman and his previous film, The Mill at Calder’s End are two of the most amazing genre shorts we have ever seen. Even beyond the puppetry, which puts most live action filmmaking to shame, the attention to detail lavished on the sets and costumes is quite extraordinary. You can see real world-building in Swordsman. Perhaps the greatest endorsement is the imprimatur of Lisa and Heather Henson (as in the Henson Company) serving as executive producers. They would know puppetry world-better than anyone.

Slamdance ’19: Dollhouse

Prepare for a lesson in women’s and media studies from a pack of Spitting Image-style puppets. Frankly, the puppet known as Junie Spoons probably has as much personality as the pop starlets she is satirizing. Her dramatic cautionary tale of woe unfolds in a phony Behind the Music-like gossip show that serves as the narrative artifice of Nicole Brending’s Dollhouse: The Eradication of Female Subjectivity from American Culture (clip here), which premiered during the 2019 Slamdance Film Festival.

You more-or-less know her story. Spoons started out as the star of an innocent child’s variety program, but as her star rose, she incorporated increasingly risqué elements into her solo act. She became a major star, but after her somewhat less famous co-star (and love of her life) dumped her, she started abusing drugs, alcohol, and himbos.

The scummy men and substance abuse issues could have been endured by any number of hot mess pop idols. However, Spoons has one legal challenge wholly unique to her, but ironically, it might just cost the support of the hyper-sensitive social justice warriors Brending’s film is probably counting on.

In a rather surreal turn of events, Spoons must lawyer-up and litigate to maintain her identity when a white trash loser decides deep down he really is Junie Spoons and must transition genders in order to become who is really is. Alas, Spoons’ legal battle will cost her greatly.

During the first forty-five minutes or so, Dollhouse charts a safe, feminist tack. However, the third act holds implications that might offend the professionally offended, with respects to it handling of transgender issues—so best of luck to Brending.

For the most part, Dollhouse is mildly amusing, but only an inch deep. Basically, she milks as many chuckles as she can from the spectacle of puppets behaving badly. If the art of cinema peaked for you with the vomiting scene in Team America: World Police than this film is your huckleberry. At least it has the merit of brevity, clocking in under 70 minutes. Just kind of whatever, Dollhouse: The Eradication of Female Subjectivity from American Culture (say that one-time fast) screens again Monday (1/28) during this year’s Slamdance in Park City.

Sundance ’16: Mostly Midnight Shorts

Bob Morrison’s “Hey Puppet Man” 45 might not have hit the top of the charts, but it has a dark, fuzzy quality that makes it a perfect theme song for a psycho killer. If that were not enough street cred, the rest of his soundtrack was composed by none other than horror legend John Carpenter. Thanks to Carpenter’s involvement, Jacqueline Castel’s short The Puppet Man was one of the coolest films of any length that screened at the 2016 Sundance Film Festival.

It is not hard to see Carpenter’s influence on Castel, but that is a good thing. Christine and her hard partying friends have stepped into the wrong bar. She is sufficiently intuitive to feel instantly uncomfortable, but they are determined to drink up until their cab comes. However, when Christine goes off looking for a restroom, she gets a good look at the Puppet Man instead. It is hard to say whether the man in the floppy hat with shaved eye-brows is supernatural in nature or just psychotic. Probably both. Regardless, Christine’s shallow drinking buddies will probably keep their cabbie waiting, which is a shame, because he is played by Carpenter.

The combination of Carpenter’s retro-electronic score and Castel’s hazy, neon cinematography really evoke memories of the horror master’s early 1980s glory days. In her acting debut, fashion model Crystal Renn shows all kinds of scream queen potential. Yes, Puppet Man is only nine minutes—and what a tense nine minutes they are—but it could well become recognized as a significant film in the horror canon.

While Puppet Man is the best of the Midnight Shorts program, Jason Woliner’s Dinner with Family with Brett Gelman and Brett Gelman’s Family is nearly as harrowing, but for very different reasons. The Adult Swim-produced Freudian nightmare features big name co-stars (Tony Roberts and Patty Lupone) trading barbs so harsh and scathing, they would make Neil LaBute uncomfortable. If five percent of Gelman’s self-caricature is true to life, than he must be a profoundly damaged person. Regardless, it sure is funny. In fact, it would pair rather nicely with Richard Bates, Jr.’s Trash Fire.

Adult Swim also contributed The Pound Hole, directed by “The Daniels” (a.k.a. Daniel Kwan & Daniel Scheinert), two of the big winners at this year’s Sundance. Along with Swiss Army Man, we can see they have a real penchant for mixing wild goofiness with sappy sentimentalism. Set in a hipster night club called the Dog Pound, the Daniels follow the birth, life, and death of the punky DJ’s love child, bizarrely accelerated into the span of one night, by his driving beats. It is amusing, but feels tame compared to spectacle that is Brett Gelman’s family.

Visually, Simon Cartwright’s Manoman is nearly as distinctive as Puppet Man, but ironically, it is the film that is made with puppets. When a put-upon prole attends a session of primal scream therapy, he inadvertently releases his inner id or demon, who promptly leads him on a crime spree. Even though it clocks in at a mere eleven minutes, Manoman eventually runs out of narrative steam, but it still has some wonderfully clever moments, as when the somewhat self-aware puppets attack each other’s strings.

For sheer madness, it is tough to beat Nick DenBoer’s The Chickening, which remixes footage of Kubrick’s The Shining, turning the Overlook Hotel into a poultry theme park. Little Danny Torrence is now a stubble-faced teamster and the spectral twins now have beaks. If you thought Room 237 would make Kubrick turn over in his grave, Chickening should have him spinning like a top. Yet, despite all the lunacy, you have to respect the skilled craftsmanship that went into it.

Calvin Lee Reeder’s even shorter The Procedure is basically a one-joke sketch, yet it somehow won the Short Film Jury Award. Frankly, it probably brought down the house when it screened, but it is rather underwhelming when viewed in the comfort of your own home. Happily, it is also much more accessible than his utterly unwatchable The Oregonian, yet one can still see stylistic consistencies. In contrast, Eddie Alcazar’s Fuckkkyouuu is an eight minute endurance challenge. Essentially, he strobes-up and purees a lesbian love scene with the primordial ooze, sort of like a nefarious grafting together of Blue Is the Warmest Color and the ape scene in 2001, but why?

Outside of the Midnight program, Cavieh Zahedi’s Bob Dylan Hates Me (already available on Fandor) is just as neurotic as his highly personal documentaries, most notably including The Sheik and I. Conceived as a pilot, Zahedi documents two increasingly disastrous encounters with his one-time hero, culminating with the titular punchline. If Zahedi can sustain the wit and energy, this could be a terrific series, perfect for fans of Dr. Katz. They even have a similar, sketchy style of animation.

It is tough to beat John Carpenter in his element, regardless of length or format. In contrast, Dylan would probably rather not have his likeness represented at Sundance—with good reason in this case, even though Zahedi is always hardest on himself. As always, there were some significant finds in the short film programs passed over by feature-snobs, especially The Puppet Man, Dinner with Family, etc., The Chickening, and Bob Dylan Hates Me, all of which are highly recommended following their screenings at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

Philip K. Dick ’16: The Mill at Calder’s End (short)

There has always been a macabre side to the art of puppetry, going back to the commedia dell’arte roots of Punch and Judy. We sort of lost sight of it because of the Muppets, but it would occasionally manifest itself in ambitious Henson projects like The Dark Crystal. However, Kevin McTurk raises old school rod puppetry to new gothic heights in his visually arresting short film The Mill at Calder’s End (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 Philip K. Dick Film Festival in New York.

After a long absence, Nicholas Grimshaw is returning to Calder’s End to claim his inheritance. It is a lonely drive, but his destination is even drearier. His family estate is a shunned place in the Lovecraftian sense. He would gladly relinquish all his claims to it, but an ancient Faustian bargain binds his family to the evil force centered in the ominous looking mill.

Of course, everything in Calder’s End looks ominous, even including Grimshaw’s late but still accursed father, who bears an unmistakable resemblance to the great Peter Cushing, which has to be one of the coolest cinematic hat tips ever. It is altogether fitting too, since the influence of Hammer Horror and the Corman Poe films is evident in the wonderfully rich and atmospheric production and art design. As if that were not enough fan service, Barbara Steele, the Giallo legend and a semi-regular Corman repertory player gives voice to the malevolent Apparition of the Mill.

The story of Calder’s End would still be a satisfying little gothic hair-raiser had it been a conventional live action drama, but as a piece of puppet theater, it is kind of stunning. McTurk (whose technical credits include films like Iron Man, Hugo, and Pacific Rim) and his accomplished team have done some of the best special effects, set construction, and costuming you will see in a film of any length, with any sort of cast.

Calder’s End doesn’t seem very Philip K. Dick-like, but who cares? Fans of Cushing, Hammer, and gothic British horror in general will absolutely flip for it. So far, McTurk has been honing his macabre puppetry in shorts (this being only his second), but when he applies this concept to a feature, it will be a major event for genre fans. Very highly recommended, The Mill at Calder’s End screens as part of a short film block this Friday (1/15) at the Cinema Village, during this year’s Philip K. Dick Film Festival.

Fantasia ’15: Arti: the Adventure Begins

These puppets can kick the snot out of the Muppets and those annoying Spitting Image tools.  They have mad martial arts skills and they are not even as dramatically wooden as a lot of flesh and blood actors. Creations of the Huangs, Taiwan’s leading puppetry family, they are the undeniable stars of Huang Wen Chang’s fantastical wuxia steampunk epic, Arti: the Adventure Begins (trailer here), which had its North American premiere at the 2015 Fantasia International Film Festival in Montreal.

Sometime during the height of the Silk Road’s geopolitical importance, the wise Zhang Meng invented a wooden mechanical robot known as ARTI-C. Unfortunately, his promethean creation was used to stoke fear and paranoia. In a resulting riot, Zhang was killed, but his son Zhang Mo and his daughter Zhang Tong survived to preserve his legacy: ARTI-C.

However, ARTI-C is powered by a dwindling reserve of a mystic energy called the Origin. It is sort of like the “Force,” but more colorful and tangible. To keep ARTI-C in proper fighting condition, they must find a way to recharge his Origin cell. That quest will take them to the Nouveau Riche city of Loulan, which is currently locked in a cold war with the Lop Tribe and the Dune-like sandworms that apparently do their bidding. Unfortunately, when Zhang Tong is spirited away by the Elvish Lop people, she quickly surmises the shadowy Loulan regent has badly misrepresented the nature of the conflict to her gullible brother.

The mind-blowing truth is some of the best cinematic martial arts produced this year is performed by puppets. Some of their moves are just awesome. Yet, it is important to remember the greater artistry they represent. There is nothing campy about the figures Huang and his team bring to life on screen. Dispel any thoughts of Gerry Anderson’s marionettes. Aside from the occasional comic relief provided by Cheeky Ducky, the film’s only wholly animated character, Huang’s characters are entirely serious and their wuxia business is pretty darned spectacular and suitably tragic.

Granted, the story is just sort of okay, but the sets and backdrops are richly detailed and utterly lifelike. If ever a film with puppets deserved to win awards for best costuming, it would be Arti, hands down. This is incredible world building—literally built to scale.

It is gratifying to know Chinese puppetry traditions not only continue and move forward in Taiwan, thanks to artists like the Huangs. Reportedly, Arti is the most expensive pure puppetry film ever produced—and it is easy to believe it based on what is up there on the screen. Very highly recommended for fans of wuxia and puppet theater, Arti: the Adventure Begins is such an accomplished work of craftsmanship it must be destined for a long festival life and a devoted cult following, after its recent Fantasia premiere. Look for it, hope for it.

STF: Rehearsal for a Sicilian Tragedy

They know something about rivalry in Sicily.  For years, Orlando and Rinaldo have both vied for the affections of Angelica in Sicily’s puppet theaters.  It is a tradition that partly inspires Italian-American actor John Turturro’s return to his ancestral roots.  Puppeteer-filmmaker Roman Paska documents Turturro’s combination sentimental journey and spec research tour in Rehearsal for a Sicilian Tragedy (trailer here).  Now available on DVD from First Run Features, Paska’s film also kicks off the Winter 2013 season of Stranger Than Fiction this coming Tuesday at the IFC Center.

The first generation Turturro has an understandable affinity with his family’s homeland.  Off and on, he has developed a project about a traditional Sicilian puppeteer, finding a mentor in Mimmo Cuticchio, who is widely considered the greatest living practitioner of the art (and can also be seen in a straight acting role in the forthcoming Terraferma).  While Turturro’s prospective film has yet to come to fruition, he will indeed collaborate with Cuticchio on a production of Orlando’s tragic story.

Paska makes his wandering focus a virtue, leisurely alternating between Cuticchio’s Opera deo Pupi, Turturro’s emotional pilgrimage to sites of great family significance, dramatic readings, and talking head interviews on Sicilian culture.  Not what you might call a tight film, it is rather pleasantly discursive.  As a result, one gets an impressionist sense of the region’s rhythms and eccentricities instead of an information dump of names and dates.

Cuticchio and his pupi are ridiculously cinematic.  Paska simply cannot miss when he has them in a scene.  Likewise, Turturro comes across as a mostly likable, down to earth fellow, in touch with his familial legacy.  Even scholar Gioacchino Lanza Tomasi looks interesting on camera, making some intriguing points on the shifting roles the Day of the Dead and Christmas have played in Sicilian culture.

Unhurried and disorganized in appropriately enjoyable ways, Rehearsal’s spirit fits its subjects.  It offers considerable insights into art and tradition, capturing a few surprisingly touching moments along the way.  Warmly recommended for fans of Italian cinema and puppetry, Rehearsal for a Sicilian Tragedy is now available on DVD and screens in New York this coming Tuesday (1/8) at the IFC Center, with both Turturro and Paska scheduled to participate in a Q&A.

Iranian Theater Fest: Silken Veils

Opinions of Iran’s Islamic Revolution differed widely within Darya’s family. Her traditional father embraced it, while she and her mother chafed under the new restrictions for women. As a result, her tumultuous Revolutionary-era childhood has profoundly influenced her perception of relationships. The political becomes the personal in Leila Ghaznavi’s Silken Veils (trailer here), a remarkably artful and cohesive fusion of live theater, puppetry, silhouettes, projected animation, and the poetry of Rumi, which runs this weekend as part of the Brick Theater’s Festival of Iranian Theater.

Veils opens like Plaza Suite, with Darya barricading herself in a room after bolting from her own wedding. She never thought she would marry a Persian man and it hardly looks like she is going to do so now, despite their whirlwind romance. Her memories of life in Iran simply will not rest in peace. In flashbacks, we see her father used to be rational and tolerant. Yet, his increasing zealous embrace of Khomeini essentially cleaves their family apart.

In contrast, her mother’s attitudes towards the Shah reflect a more realpolitik sensibility. If not a supporter per se, she certainly appreciates his modernization efforts and their implications for women. As for Darya’s brother, he never really has an opportunity to develop his own opinions. Instead, he becomes one of the twelve year-old “martyrs” the Revolutionary regime used as human mine-sweepers during the Iran-Iraq War.

Though they loom large in Darya’s psyche, we never see her parents personified directly on-stage. Instead, they are represented as either marionettes or evocative backlist shadows. Frankly, it is quite surprising how much emotion Veils conveys through both techniques. In fact, it is downright heavy to watch Ghaznavi make her mother’s marionette weep on-stage.

While the audience gets a bit of an impressionistic sense of life under the oppressive Revolutionary government, Veils is more successful giving voice to the tragic Iranian soul. Indeed, the great misfortune of Darya’s story is the extent to which politics and ideology infect the family unit. Of course, that is what totalitarian regimes set out to do.

Ghaznavi is a very talented puppeteer and a fairly compelling protagonist (though it is worth noting the play is not autobiographical). Despite stepping at nearly the last minute, Tim Shelton works well with Ghaznavi in their puppetry sequences and projects the right open-faced innocence as the ill-fated younger brother. Yet, perhaps the greatest surprise is just how expressive Warren St. George II and Cady Zuckerman are as Darya’s parents, relying solely on their voices and shadowy body language.

Veils is quite literate in its use of language, seamlessly integrating Rumi’s verse into its text. Hamed Nikpay & Houman Pourmehdi’s distinctive soundtrack further burnishes a rich production. Sort of a multi-media theater version of Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis, Veils is one of the clear highlights of the Iranian Theater Fest. Enthusiastically recommended, it runs again today (3/12) and tomorrow afternoon (3/13) at the Brick Theater in Brooklyn.

(Photo: Lily Gottlieb)