The Lennon Report: The Death of a Beatle

WABC’s Eyewitness News pioneered the use of so-called “Happy Talk” banter, but the legendary Roger Grimsby gave it an acerbic edge suitable for gritty 1970s New York. It was indeed number one in the largest local market, but WABC producer Alan Weiss had even higher ambitions. Tragedy becomes scoopable opportunity when Weiss is admitted to the same emergency room that labored to save John Lennon’s life. The long dark night of December 8, 1980 is dramatized in Jeremy Profe’s The Lennon Report (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

As several of the real life medical staffers note in the film’s epilogue, this was very definitely pre-Giuliani New York. Roosevelt Hospital (now Mount Sinai West) was located in Midtown West, but at the time it regularly admitted numerous gunshot and stabbing victims each night. It was a relatively prosaic motorcycle accident that landed Weiss in the ER. Despite the pain in his hip, Weiss could not miss the whirlwind of activity surrounding a VIP gunshot victim and he is pretty sure he heard the name John Lennon. However, the doctors and nurses will not confirm anything and they certainly are not about to help him communicate with his newsroom. Yes, it was so much easier keeping things under wraps before the era of smart phones.

Dark and moody, Report is sort of a throwback to the sort of contemporary urban chamber dramas that used to be staples of Golden Age anthology shows like Playhouse 90. Ironically, a story like this is probably too small for television now, so it must be produced as a feature. To his credit, Profe is quite sensitive in his depiction of the real life characters. John Lennon’s features are never shown, nor do we ever really see much of his murderer, besides a few glimpses of his fat ass in passing. Perhaps most significantly, Karen Tsen Lee portrays Yoko Ono with such dignity and vulnerability, she might finally convince Beatles fans to lighten up on her.

Most of the drama centers on Dr. David Halleran, the young doctor on call charged with resuscitating his idol, the nursing staff, and the pesky Weiss. Stef Dawson and Stephen Spinella have some particularly effective and humane moments as Barbara Kammerer RN and pulmonary specialist Dr. Richards Marks, respectively. Walter Vincent and Devin Ratray also supply some welcome bantering rapport as Weiss and his newsroom manager Phil Bernstein, which periodically airs out the film a little, without dispelling the somber mood.

Report is well executed, but it is undeniably small in scope. Frankly, people of good conscience can debate whether Lennon merits such passion play treatment. Yes, he was a Beatle, but he wasn’t Lincoln or Kennedy. Still, Profe and production designer have crafted an evocative time-capsule period piece that will remind those who lived through the era of the time when New York City was facing financial default and just about every man in America planned his week around Monday Night Football. Recommended for old school New Yorkers as a VOD option, The Lennon Report opens this Friday (10/7) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

Tribeca ’16: Special Correspondents

Radio reporter Frank Bonneville and his engineer Ian Finch could be called the Jayson Blairs of radio, except they really intended to cover the uprising in Ecuador. Unfortunately, a funny thing happened on the way to the airport. It was all Finch’s fault, as it often is. In accordance with their journalistic ethics, they will just fake it as best they can in Ricky Gervais’s Netflix original Special Correspondents (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

After sleeping with the oblivious Bonneville, Finch’s preening wife Eleanor decides to give him the heave-ho. Frankly, it is probably the best thing that could happen to him, especially considering Claire Maddox the kind-hearted segment producer seems to be carrying a torch for him. The Ecuador assignment should be a convenient cooling-off period for Finch, but he rather inconveniently trashes their tickets and passports instead of his wildly ill-conceived letter to Eleanor.

With the borders closing imminently, Bonneville ensconce themselves in the spare room above their favorite coffee house and proceed to fake it so real, just like Edward R. Murrow would have done. When their “scoops” threaten to escalate the international incident, Bonneville and Finch are summoned to the embassy for their own protection. Of course, that is not going to happen, so they fake their abduction to cover for their absence. Then the stakes really start to rise when Eleanor Finch exploits the [fake] crisis as a means of establishing herself as a media celebrity.

Somehow Gervais (directing himself) maintains a level of mild amusement—light chuckles—consistently throughout Correspondents. There is funny stuff in there, but it is nothing like seeing the rat episode of Fawlty Towers for the first time.

As screenwriter, Gervais hits a nice tone, but he is not so well-informed when it comes to Latin America. Frankly, it is highly unlikely leftist guerrillas would revolt against the Correa regime. If a revolution broke out in the Cuban-Venezuelan-aligned nation (where the independence of the press and judiciary are routinely violated and thuggery is used to intimidate political rivals), it would be in the best interests of both the American people and the Ecuadorans to support the uprising, but our current administration would probably prefer to continue currying favor with the Castro regime.

Regardless, Gervais works overtime milking his likable sad sack shtick. However, it is Eric Bana who really gives the film some bite as Bonneville, the cocky prima donna. Vera Farmiga is ridiculously over-the-top as Eleanor Finch, but that is the whole point. Kevin Pollak also gets in a handful of sly line-deliveries as Bonnevilla’s less-than-impressed station manager.

Arguably, Correspondents is the perfect film to lead an almost entirely streaming life. It is diverting in the moment, but leaves nothing behind in the subconscious. More watchable than memorable, Special Correspondents launches on Netflix this Friday (4/29), following its world premiere at the 2016 Tribeca Film Festival.

Big News from Grand Rock: Journalism Up North

Leonard Crane is like the Jayson Blair of provincial Canada, except he meant well. Desperate to keep his small town newspaper in business, Crane starts cribbing human interest stories from the movies. Unfortunately, things get a little out of hand when he raises the stakes with an expose. There might just be a big story out there in Daniel Perlmutter’s Big News from Grand Rock (trailer here), which opens today in Canada.

You can pretty much tell from the staff meeting why readership is woefully down at the Weekly Ledger when the deep voiced Ted Baxter-ish Bill pitches a story about a local woman who bought a lottery ticket. No, it hasn’t won—yet. It is a pretty sleepy hamlet, so it might be a pleasant place to live (aside from the potholes), but it sure is hard to drum up news copy. When the longtime owner announces his intention to sell, Crane does his best to woo back advertisers. Out of desperation, he rewrites the Bill Murray elephant movie Larger than Life as local interest story. It is a safe film to start with, because who would admit to watching it?

The keep the flow of reader-friendly stories coming, Crane seeks out recommendations from a willingly complicit video store clerk. However, when he pushes Barbet Schroeder’s medical thriller Desperate Measures on Crane, the resulting expose proves too sensational, attracting a reporter from a relatively big city to confirm his allegations of secret cloning experiments conducted by a shadowy cult. Yet, just when he faces exposure and ostracism as a fraud, mysterious events start to suggest he might have accidentally stumbled onto something after all.

Big News is a low key comedy, but the humor is considerable and admirably consistent. There are a lot of very clever lines, but the way Perlmutter and his leads master the rhythm of their dialogue for laughs is particularly effective. For some of their exchanges, you can almost imagine Perlmutter was drilling them with a stopwatch, Howard Hawks-style.

As Crane, Ennis Esmer deftly walks a comedic tightrope, often serving as a straight man during most of his scenes, but then perfectly delivering the understated kicker that pays off all the set-up. Aaron Ashmore and Peter Keleghan are terrific wild cards playing off Esmer as his video co-conspirator and the clueless reporter (to use the job title generously). The awkward chemistry between him and Meredith MacNeill as out of town journalist also works quite effectively in the context of the film.

Granted, Perlmutter started with a promising premise, but the intangibles of the well-turned phrases and the natural, unforced feel of the riffing really distinguishes it from the field. Frankly, Big News from Grand Rock is too good not to find some sort of distribution here in America, but if you happen to be in Toronto, by all means, drop by the Carlton Cinema, where it opens today (2/27).

Sundance ’15: True Story

Who is the bigger user, the disgraced journalist or the alleged family murderer? It is a close call, but the “journalist” has no competition when it comes to willful self-deception. Mike Finkel’s strange and problematic relationship with Christian Longo provides the dramatic grist for British theater Rupert Goold’s ripped-from-the-tell-alls feature debut, True Story (trailer here), which screens during the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

For a while, Finkel was the golden boy at the New York Times, scoring numerous Sunday magazine covers. Then he was busted for “compositing” victims somewhat haphazardly in a human trafficking story. At least Longo was still a fan. While on the lam, he used Finkel’s name as an alias. Intrigued by the connection, the real Finkel pays a jail house visit to the man accused of killing his wife and three children. Recognizing a story that could salvage his career, Finkel agrees to co-author a book with Longo. Of course, he assumes it will be exculpatory, but early trial developments leave him feeling confused and betrayed.

Clearly, this is not a film looking to rehabilitate the NYT’s scandal-plagued image. Gretchen Mol plays Finkel’s editor as an ice cold CYAing Machiavellian, which might be the truest aspect of True Story. The ironic postscript also serves as a final middle finger to the Gray Lady. However, Goold and co-screenwriter David Kajganich are not trying to do any favors for Finkel or Longo either. In all honesty, everyone comes out of it looking badly, but that makes it fascinating to watch.

Christian Longo, the media savvy sociopath, just might be the role James Franco was born to play. He is so frighteningly convincing turning on the charm and manipulating everyone around him, it makes you wonder. Although, it is a far less showy role, Jonah Hill’s Finkel is also believably slow on the uptake (so much so, it also makes you wonder). Mol is suitably severe, but True Story is not a great vehicle for actresses, completely wasting Felicity Jones as Finkel’s more guarded but nearly personality-less girlfriend.

Franco and Hill’s scenes together have fair degree of crackle, but the suspense never really rises above room temperature. Frankly, there are no miscarriages of justice in True Story, unless you count the Times getting off easy after yet another journalistic scandal. Yet, it is strangely refreshing to see a film that is not out to gin up cheap outrage. Recommended for those who appreciate adult drama, True Story screens again this Thursday (1/29) and Saturday (1/31) in Park City and Sunday (2/1) in Salt Lake, as part of this year’s Sundance.

Macabro ’14: Sapi

Which is more dangerous: torrential monsoons, demonic possession, or the tabloid media? All three are coalescing into a perfect storm in Metro Manila. As reports of spiritual possession sweep the city, two rival networks will race to bottom trying to scoop each other. The story takes on personal dimensions for one particular news crew in Brillante Ma Mendoza’s Sapi (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Macabro, the Mexico City International Film Festival.

It is a Catholic country, so they take demonic doings quite seriously. It is also a ratings driver. SBN even has a show dedicated to it: Sapi, meaning possession. Unfortunately, PBC has been eating their lunch. The case of a school teacher named Ruby is a perfect example. By the time reporter Dennis Marquez got there with his producer Meryl Flores, PBC had already caught all the juicy Linda Blair action, so they had to settle for a bland sit-down with the apparently exorcized woman.

In a Mary Mapes level breach of journalistic ethics, Flores strikes a deal with Baron Valdez, their freelance cameraman, to smuggle some of the good footage out of PBC. However, when their pilfered video runs on SBN, they neglected to pixelate Ruby’s face. Suddenly, a lot of people are unhappy with Flores and her team, perhaps including a supernatural agency. In fact, ever since they left Ruby, the three tabloid journalists have been plagued by disturbing dreams and gory visions.

Sapi is a strange genre hybrid that probably spends more time on the dodgy side of journalism than the business of supernatural horror. Thankfully, Mendoza does not go the found footage route, but the film clearly has a deliberately handheld video-on-the-fly look just the same. Yet, since Sapi is so grounded, when Mendoza springs a paranormal jolt, it is really freaky.

Unfortunately, in addition to being morally challenged, the SBN journalists are also kind of dull. Rather, it is the supporting veteran character actors who really add color and flavor to the proceedings, such as Jon Achaval and Raquel N. Villavicencio as the bickering news director and station chief.

Nonetheless, Mendoza uses the city to full noir effect. He captures a vivid sense of its chaos and grittiness, without wallowing in poverty porn. It is even more ragged around the edges than he intended, with many of the pieces rather haphazardly forced together, but his mastery of mood and tone is impressive. Throughout Sapi there is a persistently unnerving sensation something sinister lurks just outside our field of vision and the notion of bottom-feeding journalists exploiting demonic possession feels all too here-and-now. Recommended for those who prefer a healthy dose of social commentary with their horror films, Sapi screens this Saturday (8/23) and the following Friday (8/29), as part of this year’s Macabro.

Japan Cuts ’14 & NYAFF ’14: The Snow White Murder Case

Nobody in their right mind would call Mao Inoue homely and the young actress playing her middle school aged self has to be one of the cutest kids ever. Yet, those caught up in the mob mentality will believe anything. Group think in its many guises, including social networking, scandal mongering journalism, and peer pressure, stands thoroughly indicted in Yoshihiro Nakamura’s The Snow White Murder Case (trailer here) , which screens as a co-presentation of the 2014 Japan Cuts and New York Asian Film Festival.

Noriko Miki was Little Ms. Perfect at her cosmetic company (makers of Snow White soap). Outwardly beautiful and gracious, she was actually manipulative and mean. She also happens to be dead, having been found stabbed repeatedly and then burned to beyond recognition. The media will chose to print the legend, led by TV news part-timer Yuji Akahosi, who sees his relationship with one of the murdered woman’s co-workers as his opportunity to hit the big time. During their interview, Risako Kano not so subtly casts suspicions on Miki Shirono, referred to in his reports as “Miss S.”

In subsequent interviews, their fellow co-workers are eager to follow Kano’s lead, especially since Shirono has conveniently disappeared. Slowly, old high school and college friends emerge to defend Shirono. As they tell their stories in flashbacks, viewers see a pattern of bullying develop in her formative years. Yet, Akahosi doubles down on his narrative, egging on the internet’s baying hounds.

Ostensibly a mystery, Snow White is really the sort of film that rips your heart out and stomps on it. All three actresses playing Shirono are just overwhelmingly endearing and vulnerable. Viewers with any sliver of sympathy will be deeply moved by her/their sensitivity and indomitable faith the future will somehow be better.

Snow White was adapted from Kinae Minato’s novel, as was Tetsuya Nakashima’s incendiary Confessions—and it is easy to see a kinship between the two, especially in the way students’ causal cruelty leads to major macro consequences. However, Nakamura’s film does not leave audiences feeling so bereft and numb.

In addition to Inoue and her fellow Sironos, Shihori Kanjiya and her younger alter ego are terrific as Miss S.’s loyal but emotionally stunted childhood friend, Yuko Tanimura. Arguably, Go Ayano is appropriately vacuous and annoying as Akahosi, in a hipster Williamsburg kind of way. Yet, it is TV actress Nanao in her first feature role as Miki, who really gives the film a disconcerting edge.

Considering how intricately plotted Snow White is, the final resolution comes surprisingly quickly and cleanly. Nevertheless, witnessing Shirono’s life is an experience that really gets into your soul. Indeed, its genre trappings are rather deceptive, dressing up an intensely personal drama that steadily expands in scope. Highly recommended, The Snow White Murder Case screens tomorrow (7/11) at the Japan Society, as a joint selection of this year’s NYAFF and Japan Cuts: the New York Festival of Contemporary Japanese Film.

ADIFF ’10: Scheherazade, Tell Me a Story

Hebba Younis wants to be Chris Wallace. Her husband wants her to be Oprah Winfrey. However, when at his behest she temporarily forgoes her hard-hitting newsmaker interviews in favor of women’s interest features, it somehow antagonizes the Egyptian government even more in Yousry Nasrallah’s Scheherazade, Tell Me a Story (trailer here), a recent selection of the Venice Film Festival which has its New York premiere during this year’s African Diaspora International Film Festival.

They should be Cairo’s most fearsome media couple. Younis is the formidable host of a morning talk show. Karim Hassan is an up-and-coming journalist in line to become editor-in-chief of one of Egypt’s state-owned newspapers. Unlike Younis though, Hassan never met a government official he wouldn’t suck up to. Reluctantly, she agrees to lay low during the editor selection process. Yet, as she invites average Egyptian women on her show to tell their stories, a portrait of a corrupt and misogynist Islamic society emerges that hardly thrills Hassan. When cabinet ministers start to be implicated in her guests’ stories of victimization, there will be trouble.

Essentially, Scheherazade is four films in one, telling three discrete story arcs in flashbacks within the framework of Younis’ show. As the least controversial (and therefore least memorable), her first interview with a late middle-aged volunteer social worker gives Hassan reason for hope. While it runs a bit long, the second woman’s story is a much different matter. Convicted of murdering the man who was playing her and her two spinster sisters, it raises hot button questions about women’s legal rights in Egypt specifically and under Islamic law in general—not exactly territory Hassan and his political masters are eager to explore. When Younis’ third guest Nahed, a dentist from a prominent family, accuses a sitting minister of sexually and financial preying on mature unmarried women, all bets are off.

While cinematographer Samir Bahsan gives Scheherazade a lush, sophisticated look, it is a surprisingly tough film. Though Hassan might appear to be a modern dope-smoking yuppie, it becomes clear he would prefer his wife veiled and cloistered rather than more famous than him. Evidently, Mona Zaki has been the target of some heated disparagement from Egypt’s medieval quarters for her portrayal of the relatively liberated and assertive Younis. While she is a smart and attractive lead, Sanaa Akroud really steals the picture as Nahed, an older but still striking woman. Akroud brings out her intelligence and resoluteness, making her not-so uncommon circumstances a particularly effective indictment of Islamist Egypt.

Scheherazade would be bold for any Islamic country and is especially so in an Egypt where most media is wholly owned by the Soviet-sounding State Information Service. A feminist film in the best sense of the term, Scheherazade is honest look at the status of Egyptian women today. Timely and definitely recommended, it screens as part of the 2010 ADIFF this Friday (12/3) at the Anthology Film Archives and the following Sundays (12/5, 12/12) and Tuesday (12/14, the concluding night of the festival) at Symphony Space’s Thalia Theater.

Feeding Frenzy: Peepli Live

Technically, the Indian media appears to be slightly better than their American brethren. Though surely bottom-feeders, everything they report is at least technically the truth in a new Hindi satire. They simply have a reckless disregard for the consequences of their reporting in Anusha Rizvi’s Peepli Live (trailer here), the first Hindi film in competition at the Sundance Film Festival, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Natha is not much of a farmer, but his land is his family’s only means of support. Unfortunately, the state will soon assume his farm unless he can repay his debts. Though it sounds like an urban legend, like those straight A’s you reportedly get if your college roommate commits suicide, it turns out the Indian government will pay 100,000 rupees as compensation to the families of farmers who kill themselves. Not a princely sum, but it would still be sufficient to save the farm.

Out of options, Natha reluctantly agrees (with the strong encouragement of his supposedly loving brother Budhia). Peepli is a small village, so word quickly spreads of his desperate decision. Sensing a good sob story, an ambitious local reporter feeds it to a national network, and before you know it, the Indian media is camped out in front of Natha’s farm, like it’s the Neverland Ranch.

One would think all the attention would be good for Natha’s cause, but not so. True, the politicians get wind of it, but his case gets caught up in a conflict between the local minister and the national agricultural secretary, who are clearly aligned with opposing political parties. Frankly, none of this rings remotely true. Certainly, partisanship is intractable, but with so many television cameras pointed at them, one would expect the rivals to be outbidding each other in their attempts to save the stolid Natha.

Still, veteran Hindi actor Naseeruddin Shah is perfectly cast as Secretary Salim Kidwai, the old smoothie (check out Shah in the thoughtful terrorist drama A Wednesday, if you can find it). Malaika Shenov also projects the right levels of ruthlessness and self-absorption to be credible as journalist Nadita Mallik. However, Natha’s personal dramas are rather boring and uninvolving. Yes, the miserable farmer is supposed to be weak, an innocent babe unprepared for the media’s shameless manipulations. Yet, he still ought to occasional say or something interesting. Instead, he is just an unsubtle symbol of exploitation.

Peepli is essentially a one note film: the media and the government do not care about the common man. Once you get that, you’ve got the film. While there are a few nice supporting turns, the angry film is not particularly engaging. It does have a catchy Bollywood soundtrack though, with a number of pleasing songs from the jazz and folk influenced band Indian Ocean. It opens tomorrow (8/13) in New York at the AMC Empire and the Big Cinemas Manhattan (formerly the ImaginAsian).