Ozu at IFC: Late Spring

This might sound familiar. A daughter in her late twenties named Noriko is pressured to marry by her family. Like Early Summer’s Noriko, she even has a best friend named Aya. While the parallels are strong, each is an elegant variation on the themes of master Japanese filmmaker Yasujiro Ozu. Following last week’s screening Summer, the second film of his so-called “Noriko Trilogy,” the IFC Center presents the first Noriko picture, Late Spring (1949), as part of their continuing Ozu weekend series.

Though widowed, Professor Somiya lives a pleasant, comfortable life with his devoted daughter Noriko. She in turn, wants nothing more from life than what she already has. However, when her aunt starts buzzing in the professor’s ear about potential matches, he agrees it is probably time for her to marry. Noriko is not convinced, believing her father would be helpless without her. When he presses the issues, she becomes resentful, but as is often the case in Ozu’s films, the seasons will change, whether we want them to or not.

Like in 1951’s Summer, it is hard to believe a parade of suitors has not camped out in front of the Somiya home. Setsuko Hara had an endearing screen presence and an eerie, hard-to-describe beauty. In Spring, she is both more dutiful and a bit more sassy than later Norikos, but they were all quietly powerful performances.

In comparison to later Noriko films, Spring features a relatively small cast of characters, but their relationships are deep and rich. In particular, keep an eye on Yumeji Tsukioka as Noriko’s friend Aya (Kitagawa). Her delicately turned scene with the old Professor late in the film is quite touching, conveying so much life experience, so simply.

Again, Spring is classic example of Ozu’s eye for still life and interior shots. Nobody could convey the warmth of domestic settings as effectively. Through his lens a simple shot of some magazines falling off a chair expresses volumes.

Spring is a truly beautiful film, featuring a haunting lead performance from Hara. Depicting generational conflict and evolving gender roles during Japan’s tumultuous post-war years with quiet sensitivity, it is one of several Ozu masterpieces everyone should see. It screens this weekend, Friday (9/3) through the bonus Labor Day Monday, at the IFC Center.

Knock-Off Fatherhood: Prince of Broadway

A born salesman, Lucky could sell ice in Antarctica—if it was fake. He has charm and ambition, but he is about to be thrown for a loop. Kids will do that to you every time, especially if they are yours (most likely). The street smart Lucky suddenly has to grow-up real quick in Sean Baker’s deliberately grungy indie Prince of Broadway (trailer here), which opens in New York tomorrow.

Lucky works the streets of New York’s Garment District, trying to entice customers back to Levon’s dodgy apparel showroom. Lucky and his Armenian boss get along fairly well, sharing a common bond as immigrants of dubious standing. Lucky lives in an efficiency, saving assiduously. Thanks to his financial means, Levon married for a greencard, but his wife is no longer content with their relationship. Then one fateful day, Lucky’s ex Linda shows up with a young boy who does not look completely dissimilar to him, insisting he look after his supposed son for a “few weeks.”

Of course, having a small child in tow (whose name he does not even know) cramps Lucky’s style hustling knock-offs for Levon. It also makes it nearly impossible for him to find quality time with his girlfriend Karina. While both are remarkably supportive of the reluctant father, it is clear Lucky will have to make some serious decisions.

Prince certainly covers some well-worn territory, but is surprisingly effective none-the-less. Yes, the kid is cute and Lucky eventually warms to him. Yet at critical junctures, Baker consistently opts for realism over easy sentimentality, which definitely keeps things real. It also avoids quite a few of the expected clichés, particularly with the friendly, cooperative relationship it depicts between Lucky and his illegal employer, rather than one solely characterized by class-based exploitation. Still, Prince’s grainy shaky-cam gets more than a bit distracting after a while.

Ghanaian Prince Adu’s dynamic breakthrough performance as Lucky is clearly the cornerstone of the film. Cocky, funny, desperate, and riveting, he delivers a real arc of character development. Karren Karagulian is also compulsively watchable as the unexpectedly complex Levon. Their scenes playing off each other are easily among the best of the largely improvised film.

Ultimately, Prince ends roughly where you would likely predict it to, but there are some sharply pointed scenes along the way. You also have to give credit to a film that includes a bit of jazz drummer Ari Hoenig’s “The Painter” in the soundtrack. Considerably better than one might expect, the unflaggingly naturalistic Prince opens tomorrow (9/3) in New York at the Angelika.

Musical Tragedy: Clear Blue Tuesday

September 11, 2001 was an unseasonably warm, clear day. It was also a Tuesday—New York City’s primary election day, in fact. Obviously, it was a day of profound tragedy that deeply affected nearly every American. Eleven loosely linked New Yorkers respond to 9-11 in song over the course of seven mid-September Tuesdays in Elizabeth Lucas’s Clear Blue Tuesday (trailer here), a collaborative movie musical opening this Friday in New York.

Lucas started with her cast, largely recruited from the New York theater scene, letting them develop their own characters and signature songs organically. She then crafted them together into a mosaic that fits together surprisingly well. Unfortunately, many of the resulting characters are rather uninvolving. Frankly, most of Tuesday’s eleven principals are only tangentially connected to the tragedy of the World Trade Center. As a result, we get way too much navel-gazing (musical or otherwise) from yuppies and hipsters, who are certainly entitled to their complex emotional reactions, but obscure the bigger picture.

Tuesday seems reflective of larger sentiments that determinedly resist addressing 9-11 directly, lest we be accused of “waving the bloody shirt.” Instead, we are asked to concentrate on how the deaths of 3,000 innocent human beings have affected our ability to clear airport security in a timely fashion or changed the tenor of public discourse. Again, this obscures the more profound and pressing issues.

Fortunately, Jan O’Dell saves this film’s soul. An actress living in lower Manhattan, O’Dell was seriously injured on September 11th, just like her character, Caroline King the business executive. Her characters’ experiences are clearly grounded in her own. O’Dell’s presence also supplies the emotional heft for the film’s showstopper number, set during a remembrance ritual.

Tuesday’s ensemble cast works earnestly to connect with the audience, but the results are rather mixed. Julie Danao-Salkin (Yoko Ono in the ill-fated Broadway show Lennon) is indeed quite good as Reena Santiago Issacs, a responsible wife and mother dealing with an immature wannabe writer husband. She also has the second most memorable musical number, “We Move the World.” However, the cast of theater veterans often seems to be pitching their performances for the stage rather than the camera.

By book musical standards, Tuesday is a bit unbalanced too. Since most numbers express the characters’ inner insecurities, it does not have a really good romantic ballad or a rousing flag waver. As a result, there is a level of sameness throughout the score, broken up only by some annoyingly gimmicky hair metal. Still, Erin Hill’s distinctive opening harp music is appropriately sensitive and respectful for the devastating events soon to come.

Tuesday is undeniably well-intentioned, but it is hard to understand why we should care about characters like Samantha Putnam, an aspiring actress who was not even living in New York at the time of the terrorist attack, regardless of how attractive she is. Yet, as the eleven New Yorkers steadily rebuild their damaged spirits, Tuesday provides a visual reminder that three successive dithering scandal-plagued governors have done practically nothing to rebuild the World Trade Center site. Of course, we knew that already. Aside from the remarkable honesty of O’Dell’s performance, the balance of the film comes across somewhat self-absorbed, missing the forest for the trees. It opens this Friday (9/3) at the Quad Cinema.

Road Comedy: White Wedding

When Elvis and Ayanda tie the knot, it will not just be a wedding. It will be a microcosm of contemporary South Africa. The groom is Zulu, the bride is Xhosa, and the best man Tswana. There might even be some Afrikaner guests, who will be surprised as anyone to be there. However, Elvis has to get there in time for it to happen. Naturally, events conspire against him in Jann Turner’s road comedy White Wedding (trailer here), South Africa’s official 2009 submission for best foreign language Oscar consideration, which opens this Friday in New York.

Elvis is earnestly devoted to Ayanda, but for some reason he entrusts his safe arrival to Tumi, his aging playboy best man. Unfortunately, a run-in with a jealous ex sets in motion a string of complications that have them hopelessly lost and perilously late. It hardly helps Elvis’s stress level when Tumi insists on picking up Rose, a very white British hitchhiker. When they breakdown in a less than inviting Afrikaner community things look bad, but remember, this is a melting pot comedy.

Indeed, Wedding is a refreshing departure from many recent South African film exports, which tend to be either highly politicized or grittily violent. Instead, it offers a vision of middle class diversity and harmony. Frankly, it is kind of sad Wedding’s style of inclusive light comedy has been so scarce in South African cinema, but its domestic box office success should spawn a welcome new trend. Of course, the “get-me-to-the-church-on-time” storyline is about as predictable as one would expect, but Turner’s execution is rather crisp, never letting the film wallow in sentimentality.

A veteran of South African television, Turner is the daughter of the late anti-apartheid activist Rick Turner and the step-daughter of executive producer and best-selling novelist Ken Follett, who has unusually prominent billing for an EP. (Oddly, both Follett and Rick Turner’s most famous books happened to be titled The Eye of the Needle.) Still, Wedding was definitely a multiracial effort, co-written with Turner’s two principal actors Kenneth Nkosi and Rapulana Seiphemo, with whom she worked on a South African soap opera in the late 1990’s.

There is indeed a nice sense of rapport between Nkosi and Seiphemo. The former is appropriately earnest as the harried groom, while the latter is credibly rakish as the best man. In fact, Nkosi has some effective scenes chewing him out for his responsibility and commitment issues. Turner also handles the budding attraction between Tumi and Rose (played by an engaging Jodie Whittaker) quite deftly, acknowledging its significance but not belaboring the racial issues.

Despite some game performances, it is hard to be shocked by Wedding’s compulsively feel-good conclusion. Of course, most people do not really go to the movies to be surprised. They want that happy ending. Endearing in its way, Wedding opens this Friday (9/3) in New York at the AMC Village 7 and Empire 25.

Mesrine Part 2: Public Enemy #1

Gangster and self-styled revolutionary Jacques Mesrine never lacked for nerve, but he might have started to believe his own hype. That never turns out well. At least we have reason to believe he will not go quietly at the conclusion of Mesrine: Public Enemy #1 (trailer here), the second part of Jean-François Richet’s two-film bio-epic, which opens this Friday in New York.

After his notorious detour through Quebec, Mesrine is back in France, plying his chosen trade. A celebrity criminal who assiduously cultivates the media, his capture becomes the top priority of Police Commissaire Broussard. Actually, catching the flamboyant Mesrine seems relatively easy. Keeping him behind bars was the tricky part. When he teams up with François Besse, an unassuming but equally slippery fellow inmate, all bets are off.

Largely eschewing the personal drama of Killer Instinct, Enemy features two shoot ‘em up escapes sequences, a number of mostly disastrous capers, some cold blooded killing, and the brilliantly edited conclusion. Essentially, Public delivers the pay-off on Instinct’s emotional investment. Yet, all the really juicy supporting turns come in the second, action-driven film. As Besse, the perfectly cast Mathieu (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly) Amalric is an intense counterpoint to blustery Mesrine. Likewise, Dardenne Brothers regular Olivier Gourmet brings some heft to Broussard, making him a worthy antagonist for Mesrine. Instinct standout Michel Duchaussoy also makes a brief but touching return appearance as the gangster’s meekly loving father.

Of course, it is problematic using terms like “hero” or even “anti-hero” with regards to the Mesrine films. He is presented as a consistently problematic figure, albeit one not without charm. Arguably though, it is his efforts to preserve his good press that contribute to his undoing. Vanity—it’s a killer.

While Instinct had the occasional slow patch, Enemy speeds along like an escaped fugitive. It is all held together by Vincent Cassel’s dynamic lead performance and the film’s cool retro 70’s look. Of course, the Mesrine films are best seen as a whole, but of the duology, Enemy is definitely the superior film. It opens this Friday (9/3) in New York at Angelika and AMC Empire 25.

The Great Migration: Last Train Home

Whether you consider it an unintentional disconnect stemming from China’s rapid industrialization or outright hypocrisy, the chasm between official rhetoric and reality is wide and stark in the Communist People’s Republic of China. It might be go-go times in the big coastal commercial centers, but the rural areas are desperately poor. An estimated 130 million migrant workers leave for the cities, working long hours for exploitative wages. They only make one annual return home for the traditional New Year holiday. Considered the world’s largest migration of people, documentarian Lixin Fan examines the taxing ritual through the eyes of one struggling Chinese family in Last Train Home (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Zhang Changhua and Chen Suqin are second class citizens, veritable illegal aliens within their own countries. Under the government’s restrictive residency laws, they have few formal rights and no access to social services outside their home district. Yet, they have had little choice but to seek work in China’s teeming urban centers. As a result, they have rarely seen the teen-aged daughter and young son they left to be raised by their grandmother.

Mother-daughter relationships can be difficult even under easier circumstances, but the three years Chen and her daughter Zhang Qin have been separated are taking a toll. Yet, on one level, Chen cannot blame her for feeling abandoned, lamenting she has not been a good mother. Unfortunately, the resentful daughter spitefully drops out of school, becoming a migrant worker herself. It is a bitter turn of events for her parents, who now must face the possibility much of the sacrifices will have been for naught. They also know only too well the rough education she is in for, especially when navigating the yearly mass exodus.

Sharing an obvious stylistic affinity with the Digital Generation of independent Chinese filmmakers, Chinese-Canadian director Lixin Fan is not afraid of holding long, quiet shots. However, he captured some uncomfortably intimate family drama, while conscientiously refraining from adding any outside commentary. Clearly, the filmmaker built up a large reservoir of trust with his subjects. In return, he lets them speak for themselves in their own words, unfiltered and unhurried.

Train is a very personal film, but it is hard to miss the underlying point that approximately 130 million more migrant Chinese workers currently endure similar conditions. Ironically, China’s peasants used to be the PRC’s privileged class, but now the laws are now rigged against them.

Should digital auteur Jia Zhangke ever remake John Hughes’ Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, it would probably look a lot like this. An unvarnished exercise in cinema vérité that takes on tragic dimensions, Train is a pointed corrective to the uncritical media coverage the Chinese government carefully cultivates. It is all the more difficult to shake, since it is not at all clear everything will ultimately work out alright for the Zhang family. Indeed, such is the nature of life. Uncompromising but deeply humanistic, Train opens Friday (9/3) in New York at the IFC Center.

Norwegian Resistance: Max Manus

When the Russians invaded Finland in 1940, Max Manus and his fellow Norwegian volunteers bravely fought alongside their Scandinavia brothers, halting Stalin’s forces a scant 150 kilometers past the eastern border. When the Soviets’ National Socialist allies then rolled through Norway in a mere two months, it put Manus somewhat out of sorts. This became the Nazis’ problem, when Manus found his calling as a legendary resistance leader, whose deeds are dramatized in Espen Sandberg and Joachim Roenning’s Max Manus (trailer here), Norway’s official 2009 submission for best foreign language Oscar consideration, which opens this Friday in New York.

Manus had little education and few marketable skills. However, on the Finnish Front, he exhibited a marked aptitude for killing Soviets. Though it left deep psychic scars, Manus would soon rely on his deadly talents in his native Norway. Trained by the British, Manus had spectacular early success sabotaging the German shipyards, but the massive transport ship the Donau remained safely operational. Of course, this unfinished business hardly sits well with Manus either.

Pale and unimposing, Manus hardly looks the part of the inspiring resistance hero. Still, the German occupiers clear pick him as their target to freeze and demonize. As they torture and kill his friends in a desperate effort to get to him, Manus is plagued with agonizing survivor’s guilt. Indeed, in Sandberg and Roenning’s film, he is convincingly presented as a bundle of neuroses, sharing the psychological extremes of both the impulsive Flame and socially awkward Citron, the Danish resistance heroes brought to life on-screen last year.

The vaguely David McCallum-looking Aksel Hennie has the perfect spot-on intensity as the driven Manus. Unfortunately the German Ken Duken (a dead-ringer for Starship Trooper’s Casper Van Dien) is a bit bland as the square-jawed villain. While much of the supporting cast is more or less adequate, functioning as moths to Manus/Hennie’s flame, Norwegian actor-director Petter Næss (best known for the Academy Award nominated Elling) has a memorable scene-stealing cameo as the celebrated Captain Martin Linge.

While some historians argue the Manus bio-film overstates his participation in the Winter War, it is certainly an accurate reminder of where the term “Quisling” came from. It is also surprisingly realistic in its depiction of the war’s emotional aftermath for those that survive.

Heroic but unsentimental, Max Manus is a very good war drama. According to the press kit, 1,000,000 Norwegians saw the film in its first six weeks of domestic release (despite a well publicized case of local piracy). It seems that many Norwegians really cannot be wrong, at least about films. Enthusiastically recommended, it opens Friday (9/3) in New York at the Quad.

One-Upping the Coens: A Woman, a Gun, and a Noodle Shop

Maybe their take on True Grit will be different, but the embarrassing Ladykillers suggests the Coen Brothers should leave remakes to others, like Zhang Yimou. Transferring Blood Simple to Imperial China, Zhang preserves all the hardboiled character of the original while adding a layer of outrageous visual humor in A Woman, a Gun, and a Noodle Shop (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Reportedly a hit with audiences at the 2010 Berlinale and the Coens themselves, Noodle is quite faithful to the plot of the original Blood. In China’s remote northern desert, the wealthy Wang lives with his caustic wife and the employees of his noodle shop. Abusive towards his wife and too stingy to pay his veritable captive employees’ wages, he makes everyone around him miserable. His wife is getting ideas though. Carrying on an illicit affair with the meek Li, she buys a gun from an itinerant merchant who seems to have stepped out of Terry Gilliam’s Baron Munchausen.

According to her plans, divorce will flow through the barrel of the gun she instructs her spineless lover to hide. Unfortunately, Wang gets wind of her intentions, hiring the corrupt patrol officer Zhang to murder her first. As those familiar with the Coen Brothers’ film will expect, the double crosses come fast and furious from this point on, but Zhang (the director) adds a really cool scene of Li spinning noodles like its gravity-defying pizza dough, truly distinguishing Noodle from it inspiration.

Some stick-in-the-mud critics seem determined to nit-pick Noodle, asking how Wang’s noodle shop in the remote Shaanxi province could stay in business. One could just as easily ask how Norman Bates could afford to buy groceries. Who cares, just go with it.

Volumes could also be written about the political context of director Zhang’s body of work. He was banned from filmmaking for two years for the unvarnished depiction of the Communist government’s collectivization campaigns in To Live, but his martial arts epic Hero has been criticized for a perceived allegorical subtext perhaps arguing in favor of a strong centralized Chinese government. In contrast, Noodle does not readily lend itself to ideological interpretation.

Instead, it offers thoroughly entertaining skullduggery and some wacky (if often violent) humor. Yet, it all works because the entire cast plays it straight, including the stone cold stone-faced Sun Honglei as Officer Zhang. As Wang’s wife, Yan Ni is a fantastic femme fatale, keeping in character throughout some rather incredible situations. Cheng Ye (and his conspicuous teeth) is also clearly game for some over-the-top physical comedy, while moving along the noir plot nicely.

Throwing in everything but the kitchen sink, Noodle has a wickedly playful spirit. Still, it has a tactile sense of place thanks to Han Zhong’s painstakingly crafted sets. Cinematographer Zhao Xiaoding also makes the forbidding landscape sparkle through his lens. As a result, Noodle has a classy, art-house sheen, but it is still just a ruckus good time at the movies. It opens Friday (9/3) in New York at the Landmark Sunshine.

Canine Valentine: My Dog Tulip

For the British, the immediate post-war years were a period of economic recession and national uncertainty. However, for one tweedy man of letters, they were happy times thanks to his ideal companion, a willful but affectionate German shepherd. Despite a relatively slim body of work, J.R. Ackerley’s literary reputation endures almost entirely thanks to his memoir of faithful dog ownership, My Dog Tulip, which has been adapted by Paul and Sandra Fierlinger as an animated feature intended for discerning adults. The first acquisition of the happily re-launched New Yorker Films, Dog (trailer here) opens this Wednesday in New York at Film Forum.

Though not deliberately abused, Tulip was too much dog for her original harried working class owners. However, a “confirmed bachelor” like Ackerley is perfectly willing to put up with a little barking and the occasional mess on the floor. In return, Tulip loved him with a possessive fervor. Caring for Tulip presents its challenges for the set-in-his-ways gent, the most pressing of which is finding a vet both he and Tulip feel comfortable with. Eventually, they are referred to Dr. Canvenini, who we know will be compassionate since she has the soothing voice of Isabella Rossellini.

With Tulip now receiving better care than most of the English suddenly navigating the National Health Service, Ackerley finds he enjoys her company far more than that of humankind, most definitely including his jealous sister Nancy. It is a love he explains with colorful details as he works on what will surely become his beloved memoir throughout the film.

Dog’s refined visual style has been likened to that of New Yorker magazine cartoons, which is a relatively apt comparison. While deliberately “sketchier” during flashback sequences and such, it conveys a spirit of wit and elegance throughout. Still, do not let the classy look and literary credentials mislead you. The film has a gleefully scatological disposition, displaying a Mehmet Oz-like fascination with the consistency of Tulip’s number two. All of which means Dog is a heck of a lot of fun.

Christopher Plummer’s voice is a perfect fit for Ackerley’s curmudgeonly urbanity, taking audible delight in his sly turns of phrase. John Avarese’s jazz and light classical soundtrack also further heightens the film’s air of sophistication. Yet, while Dog’s gentle pace and episodic structure might sound suitable for children, parents should be cognizant it really was produced with adult viewers in mind (featuring for instance a rather frank subplot involving Ackerley’s attempts to mate Tulip).

Forget about Marley and Me or any other saccharine pet movie. The Fierlingers’ animated take on Ackerley’s canine valentine is a smart and wistful pleasure for discriminating dog and film lovers. Warmly recommended, the droll Dog begins a two week run Wednesday (9/1) at Film Forum, with the filmmakers scheduled to attend the 8:00 screenings opening night and Thursday (9/2).

Ozu at IFC: Early Summer

Sorry, no CGI or 3D here, just family drama of a universal nature. Few directors handled such material as assuredly as Yasujiro Ozu. For a prime example, check out Ozu’s Early Summer, now screening at the IFC Center as part of their ongoing Ozu weekend series.

Life is realistically pleasant for the Mamiya family. The eldest son Koichi is a doctor, married to the dutiful Fumiko. They live with his parents, their two young mischievous sons, and his younger sister Noriko. There is someone missing though: the younger brother still listed as missing in action, several years after the war. His fate remains a source of pain for the Mamiya parents, but it has dulled with the passage of time (a major Ozu theme). In fact, they have more immediate concerns, like that unmarried twenty-eight year-old daughter of theirs. It turns out they are not the only ones considering her matrimonial prospects, starting with her matchmaker boss.

In many ways, Summer is a perfectly representational Ozu film, featuring a relatively large ensemble cast in an intimate family setting. As in next week’s Late Spring, the plot is driven by attempts to marry off a daughter named Noriko played by Ozu regular Setsuko Hara. It also features two willful young boys, who come across a bit brattier than the brothers of I Was Born But . . . It also features his trademark still shots that in Summer (as well as Spring) evoke a feeling of comfort and security in the characters’ working middle class homes. Ozu’s pacing is gentle and reassuring with important events often happen off-screen, as they usually do in real life.

Of course, it is hard to imagine either Noriko lacking a parade of suitors. A radiant screen presence, Hara was dubbed the “Eternal Virgin” in Japan, largely for her roles of familial fidelity in Ozu’s films. (She also played the assertive, morally ambiguous lead in Akira Kurosawa’s unfairly dismissed adaptation of The Idiot, almost single handedly rescuing the troubled production.) Indeed, she had a pure but earthy beauty, like a Japanese Loretta Young. Her performance as Summer’s Noriko is lovely, charming, and ultimately quite human.

However, in Summer Hara has plenty of support, including small but endearing turns from a spirited Chikage Awashima as her decidedly single best friend Aya and Shûji Sano as her slightly goofy but well meaning boss Satake.

Though hardly a conflict driven plot, Ozu still keeps us engaged thanks to the ever present sense of tempus fugit. Time passes and it is clear these mostly idyllic moments will not last forever. Wise and sensitive, Summer is a pleasure to watch quietly unfold. A good place to start appreciating the work of both Ozu and Hara, it screens today (8/28) and tomorrow morning at the IFC Center.

L.A. Lawless: Takers

Even in this ever-deepening recession, business is booming for five Angelinos. They are up-scale bank robbers. If they only steal TARP money, would the twice-appropriated funds still count as larceny? It would remain an act of taking, which is very definitely the name of the game in John Luessenhop’s Takers (trailer here), which opens today nationwide.

As the film kicks off, the fab five are putting in a good day’s work. Located high in an L.A. skyscraper, this bank ought to be a daunting assignment, but it is a walk in the park for our masked gunmen. It is a nifty action prologue, tightly choreographed, featuring an ingenious plan shrewdly incorporating the cluelessness of the news media. That bank never had a chance. However, just as they are about to celebrate, things get a little strained.

Enter “Ghost,” a former accomplice who was pinched on one of their rare unsuccessful gigs. Though he never rolled over on the old gang, everyone is a tad on edge to see him again, particularly Jake Attica, who is now engaged to Ghost’s ex. After laying down a vaguely menacing guilt trip, Ghost makes his proposition: a rush job hitting an armored car. He just happens to have next week’s route through his contacts with the Russian mob (gee, you don’t think that might be significant later, do you?). Against their better judgment, the team ramps up for the big score. Further complicating matters, cop-on-the edge Jack Welles is slowly closing in on them. Then stuff starts to blow up and people shoot at each other.

Takers is beyond slick. There are more shots of the setting sun glinting off L.A.’s soaring glass skyline than in the entire series run of L.A. Law. There is also plenty of over-the-top posturing and sneering passing between Ghost and his rival. Yet, the film deserves credit for some crowd-pleasingly amped-up stunt sequences, including a Parkour-style pursuit that looks like it was inspired by the District 13 films.

As the leader of the crew, the towering, strictly business Idris Elba is all kinds of bad. Likewise, Hayden “Anakin” Christensen is a surprisingly cool screen presence as A.J., the technical mastermind who also plays a bit of jazz piano (Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You"). (Again, Takers is further evidence Lucas cannot direct anyone out of a paper sack.) R&B star Chris Brown (of Rihanna notoriety) is convincingly immature as the younger Attica brother, while displaying some real action movie cred in the cranked-up-to-eleven chase scene. It even delivers a suitably serpentine villain played with smooth-talking verve by Tip “T.I.” Harris (the rapper who named himself after his favorite calculator).

In truth, Takers inspires hearty chuckles nearly every step of the way. Sometimes it is intentional, more often times not. Still, an hour and forty-five minutes of solid laughter with some impressive stunt work tossed in is certainly entertainment of a sort. It also looks great recycling every heist cliché under the sun thanks to the uber-glossy cinematography of Michael Barrett. Trashy fun, Takers opens wide today.

Thompson’s Change of Plans

Dinner parties are a time-honored social convention. With the right mix of people they can be quite enjoyable. It turns out a guest list of eleven is a bit too long in Change of Plans (trailer here), Daniéle Thompson’s comedy of relationships and manners that opens tomorrow in New York.

Considered a shrewd divorce attorney, ML thinks she is happily married to Piotr, her unemployed househusband. However, he is deeply unhappy for reasons too numerous to mention. Having just remolded the kitchen, they plan to inaugurate it with a dinner party, inviting close friends and some acquaintances they hardly know.

Of course, as the night progresses it becomes clear there are a number of hidden connections between the various guests. Since everyone had a pleasant evening or at least pretended to, they vow to do it again next year. A year is a long time though, and events of that night set off a chain of complications that might necessitate the titular change.

It might sound terrible, but one of the Plans’ biggest problems is the difficulty in telling apart its several white bourgeoisie French women characters. One is a lawyer who seemingly lives a charmed life, one is a doctor who is in for a difficult year, and another works in the film industry, yet they all blend together. Ironically, Thompson (with her co-writer son Christopher) is more successful fleshing out her male characters.

Perhaps Plans’ best chemistry comes not in its many romances, but rather with the fast friendship between the estranged father and considerably older boyfriend of Juliette, the production designer. Obviously, they share many points of reference, both cultural and personal, much to her consternation. It is sort of a sly alternative take on the themes of Something’s Gotta Give. In fact, Pierre Arditi (who somewhat resembles John McLaughlin, the musician not the commentator) and Patrick Chesnais deliver the film’s most memorable, finely tuned performances.

Unfortunately, Thompson is too good a host in Plans. Whenever it seems like the film starts to click, she compulsively checks in with another set of characters. As a result, we see all the not so ironic marital woes of ML’s partner in law and the angst of her boring husband (played by an oddly flat Dany Boon, recognizable to many for his Chaplinesque turn in Micmacs).

There are some nice moments in Plans but it is too over-stuffed. Several subplots remain half-baked, while others (the attorneys’ relationships) get tiresome. While it still approaches its relationship issues with an honesty that distinguishes it from many supposedly quirky indie films, Plans is not as satisfying as Thompson’s big hits, like Avenue Montaigne and Cousin, Cousine (which she co-wrote with director Jean-Charles Tachella). It opens this Friday (8/27) at the IFC Center in New York.

Lewis: The Former Sidekick

We Yanks seem to enjoy watching Brits knock each other off and then figure out who did it and why, particularly on Masterpiece Mystery, where the feature-length installments have time to fully develop the crimes and subsequent investigations. Still, some rather workaday mysteries became popular simply on the strength of their characters. Arguably, the Inspector Morse series, as well as the Inspector Lewis spinoffs, are prime examples. With the death of both the central character and lead actor John Thaw, Morse was presumed to have run its course, but the enduring popularity of his sidekick formerly Detective Sergeant, now Inspector Lewis has been a bit of a surprise. However, the first two episodes of the upcoming Inspector Lewis Series III are in fact better than average for standard-issue BBC crime dramas.

Sunday’s season premiere, Counter Culture Blues, is definitely distinguished by its guest stars, including a perfectly cast Joanna Lumley as Esme Ford, a sixties rock icon long presumed dead, who mysteriously reappears out of the blue. However, it is Simon Callow who really vamps it up as Vernon Oxe, the band’s refined Col. Tom Parker. The actual mystery involving the aged drug-addled rockers is hardly extraordinary, but Callow’s droll scenery-chewing is quite entertaining.

The following Sunday’s Dead of Winter is better conceived mystery with a vaguely Da Vinci Code-like angle that also involves the personal back-story of Lewis’s sidekick, the seminary-trained DS James Hathaway. It too appears to have some considerable added star power with the guest presence of Nathaniel Parker (a.k.a. Masterpiece Mystery’s Inspector Lynley), but he is essentially wasted in little more than a bystander role.

However, Winter is probably most notable for Lewis’s awkward attempts to mentor his straight-laced DS. Frankly, between the two franchises, Lewis has quite an interesting character arc, having lost not just his own mentor but his wife as well. Somewhat ill at ease assuming Morse’s curmudgeonly mantle as well as his rank, Lewis often asks “what would Morse do?” This line of inquiry usually ends at the pub.

Anchored by Kevin Whately’s winning lead, comfortably balancing pathos and cynicism, Lewis seems to be growing as a franchise. At least based on the first two episodes of Lewis Series III (as airing on PBS), the overall series that started out just okay is becoming fairly good. Series III premieres this Sunday (8/29) with Counter Culture Blues, followed by Dead of Winter (9/5), with new installments to follow throughout September.

(Lewis photos: Courtesy of © ITV for MASTERPIECE)

Centurion: No Pax Romana Here

It is 117 A.D. and the Roman “conquest” of Britain has been a miserable, blood-soaked experience—for the Romans. Just ask Centurion Quintus Dias whom we first meet running for his life from a very ticked-off war party of Picts in Neil Marshall’s Centurion (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Posted to the most distant Roman outpost, Dias is miserable in Caledonian Britain (what is more or less Scotland today). Things only get worse when his fort is over-run by a Pict surprise attack. The sole survivor, Dias escapes his captors, making his way to what just became the newly Northern-most Roman outpost. Tired of taking a beating to his prestige back in Rome, the local governor commands General Virilus to hunt down the mysterious Pict leader Gorlacon with his vaunted Ninth Legion, to which Dias is now attached.

Virilus is not thrilled with his assignment, but he supposedly has the advantage of the services of Etain, a Pict tracker ostensibly civilized by the governor. Given the way her eyes smolder with hatred, following her into battle is probably a bad idea, but they do it anyway, with predictable results. Now Dias must lead the remnant of the Ninth as they try to rescue their revered General behind enemy lines.

Centurion is a fairly straight-forward historical hack & slash, with maybe a hint of the fantastical. At one point, Dias and his men find refuge with Arianne, a woman shunned by the Picts as a purported witch—not that she really is one. She just seems to know a lot about healing herbs. Neil (The Descent) Marshall definitely has a knack for gritty battle scenes, and the clever symmetry of his opening and closing scenes perfectly suits the story of ancient (if misplaced) heroism. Unfortunately, the film lags a bit in-between, with too many scenes of rock-climbing and limping through the Caledonian forests.

Michael Fassbender is one of the few actors working in film today with potentially movie star-like screen presence. Yet in Centurion, the grizzled badness of Dominic West’s Virilus somewhat outshines him. Still, he has some credible chemistry with Imogen Poots as Arianne the witch. Unfortunately, Ulrich Thomsen is a bland villain as Gorlacon (probably because the film is too conscious of its alleged modern parallels), while as Etain, former Bond girl Olga Kurylenko looks distractingly blue, almost like she walked out of Avatar. Oddly, the Centurion’s Romans are played by Brits, whereas the Britons are mostly played by Scandinavians, Slavs, and even the Belgian Axelle Carolyn.

Centurion’s craftsmanship is definitely above average for action films. Cinematographer Sam McCurdy’s dazzling vistas make the Caledonian mountains look like the Alps. It also boasts one of the cooler opening title sequences of the year. Still, its heavy-handed “occupiers” versus “insurgency” themes often sabotages the film’s momentum. Ultimately, it is an okay summer diversion, but it is effectively limited by its reluctance to definitively pick a side and stick with it. It opens Friday (8/27) in New York at the Angelika.

(Poster by British comic artist Simon Bisley)

French Christie: Towards Zero

It is always satisfying to hear: “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve called you all together,” those magic words that signify an Agatha Christie book or movie is getting down to business. Technically, the Colombo-like Commissaire Martin Bataille never utters that fateful phrase, but that is about the only thing missing from Towards Zero (trailer here), Pascal Thomas’s French take on Dame Agatha now available on DVD.

A diverse cast of characters has gathered at the elderly Camilla Tressilian’s stately but secluded coastal mansion, but they all brought plenty of baggage. Of course her nephew and heir Guillaume Neuville is on hand with his beautiful but difficult second wife Caroline. Complicating matters, Aunt Camilla has also invited Aude, his wronged wife #1. At least she can count on the attentions of family friend and itinerant wanderer Thomas Rondeau, who is so eager to reconnect with the ex-Madame Neuville, he fails to recognize the torch Marie-Adeline, Tressilian’s retainer-companion, faithfully carries for him.

Assembling this party in an isolated setting is bound to lead to murder, but the first victim is a relative outsider, Tressilian’s old friend, the distinguished police inspector Charles Trévoz. When asked for a career anecdote, he regales the dinner party with the tale of a precocious child murderer he encountered years ago. Though he refuses to even specify a gender, he assures everyone he would recognize him or her anywhere. In retrospect, this is probably a mistake. As Bataille investigates Trévoz’s subsequent death, he soon finds plenty more work where that came from.

Zero is quite an entertaining cozy whodunnit, appropriately filled with hothouse jealousies and long buried secrets. Unfortunately, for the sake of fairness, it rather clumsily drops an all-too-obvious clue early on. Still, it is largely faithful to the spirit of great previous Agatha Christie adaptations, down to the thumbnail pictures of the cast running across the bottom of the DVD cover. Yet, it also occasionally displays an enjoyably absurdist flourish just to remind us its French.

Perfectly rumpled, François Morel looks like an old shoe as the shrewd Bataille. In contrast, Jacques Serys is an elegant scene-stealer as the ill-fated Trévoz and Laura Smet is convincingly hot and overwrought as the second Madame Neuville. Unfortunately, Chiara Mastroianni comes across a bit flat as the wounded ex.

While not on the level of the Finney and Ustinov Hercule Poirot films, Zero is definitely superior to the recent BBC Christie adaptations airing on Masterpiece Mystery. Smart and sophisticated, Zero is definitely worth catching-up with on DVD.

Birth of a Legend: Louis

Louis Armstrong is the quintessential musical Horatio Alger story. Though not born on the 4th of July as he believed, Armstrong undeniably came from mean circumstances. A child of New Orleans’ Storyville red light district, Armstrong received quite an education in life at a tender age. Those early formative years are stylishly dramatized in Dan Priztker’s Louis (trailer here), retro-silent film to be presented Monday the 30th in New York with a live soundtrack accompaniment performed by composer Wynton Marsalis, classical pianist Cecile Licard, and a 10-piece small big band (almost entirely consisting of Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra alumnus).

Though Armstrong’s memoirs largely sanitize his childhood, it is generally accepted that from time to time, his mother engaged in the work Storyville was infamous for. Louis dispenses with euphemisms, taking viewers inside the venerable bordellos of New Orleans (hence the R rating). A worldly tyke, young Armstrong already has a crush on one of the working girls, Grace, a local near-celebrity who has just made her triumphant return to the Crescent City and the world’s oldest profession. Unfortunately, the thoroughly corrupt but politically ambitious Judge Perry also has eyes for Grace in an exploitative Jim Crow kind of way. Ironically, since the six year-old Armstrong is essentially invisible to Perry and his cronies, he finds ample snooping opportunities as he tries to foil the crooked jurist’s plans for Grace.

As one would expect given it carries the Wynton Marsalis seal of approval, Louis definitely gets its jazz correct. Mixing Marsalis originals with the compositions of Jewish-Creole classical composer L.M. Gottschalk, the film-concert experience definitely captures the sound of early Twentieth Century New Orleans. Indeed, Marsalis’ portions of the soundtrack are similar in tone to his music for Ken Burns’ Jack Johnson documentary, Unforgivable Blackness. While clearly inspired by Armstrong, there is also the hint of an Ellington influence, which echoes throughout Marsalis’ music.

Louis might look as good as it sounds thanks to Vilmos Zsigmond, the celebrated Hungarian cinematographer who defected shortly after the 1956 Soviet invasion. Indeed, his use of black-and-white with sepia color tints gives the film a vibrant yet sophisticated look. To his credit, rock musician turned jazz movie director Pritzker also shows an intuitive flair for camera movement, nicely conveying the earthy energy of its setting.

Despite its lack of dialogue (aside from periodic inter-titles) Louis had at least four credited screenwriters, including Pritzker. While their story arc is fairly simple, they add some nice period touches, like appearances from Buddy Bolden, the never-recorded cornetist considered the original jazz musician. The film also cleverly shoehorns real incidents in Armstrong’s life, including the circumstances that sent him to the so-called Colored Waifs’ Home, where he providentially joined the marching band, ultimately setting in motion a career as the most significant and influential musician in American history.

Bearing a strong likeness to the young Armstrong, charismatic Anthony Coleman also hints at the familiar Satchmo mannerisms fairly well, without descending into caricature. Deliberately resembling Chaplin (albeit in his later years) Jackie Earle Haley is strangely effective as Judge Perry, mixing in some surprising pathos with his physical comedy and scenery chewing villainy.

Louis is one of the better jazz films produced in recent years that will surely be even more rewarding with the live in-theater soundtrack performance. Though Marsalis might be controversial in some jazz circles for his perceived aesthetic conservatism, he is an energizing soloist with a charming stage presence and a golden trumpet tone. It’s a great band too. Known for excelling on gutbucket blues, trombonist Wycliffe “Pinecone” Gordon should have a particularly strong affinity for the material, having composed his own soundtracks for silent films. Affectionately recommended, the Louis tour starts Wednesday August 25th in Chicago, reaching New York’s Apollo Theater Monday (8/30).

Mesrine Part 1: Killer Instinct

Jacques Mesrine was white and bourgeoisie, but he wanted to be the French Iceberg Slim. A veteran of Algeria, Mesrine became France and Canada’s “Public Enemy #1,” eventually getting his wish, dying in a hail of bullets. Before the inevitable, he glamorized his exploits in two memoirs/novels, making him something of a cult hero to the French-speaking counter-culture. As a result, he became a very PR-conscious public enemy, who would be delighted to know his story has now been adapted in Jean-François Richet’s two-film bio-epic, the first of which, Mesrine: Killer Instinct (trailer here) opens Friday in New York, with part two to follow a week later.

In Algeria, Mesrine killed and tortured without a second thought. Returning to France, he is incapable of following in his timid father’s footsteps of working middleclass respectability. Of course, he has certain talents to offer, which the “establishment” gangster Guido recognizes. While Mesrine takes to racketeering like a fish to water, his wild streak is an obvious liability. He also seems to have issues with women. While his conquests are many, he also seems primed for some rather ugly misogynistic violence.

Despite his unruliness, Mesrine eventually finds himself married with children. When he even gets a straight job after an early prison stretch, it appears Mesrine might be ready to settle down. Unfortunately, when he is laid off during an economic downturn, Mesrine soon returns to Guido’s organization.

Ironically, as the violence of Mesrine’s criminal endeavors escalates, his press becomes increasingly favorable. He became the gentleman bandit, with a strict code of conduct and New Left street cred. When things get too hot for Mesrine in France, he takes a sojourn to Quebec, falling in with French nationalists, further refining his revolutionary persona.

Killer Instinct is a decent gangster movie on its own, but it is really meant to establish the characters and story that continues in Public Enemy No. 1, the second film (that confusingly has the number one in the title). Indeed, Instinct handles the heavy-lifting of character development, setting up the slam-bang action sequences of Enemy. Yet, Richet presents a compellingly unvarnished portrait of Mesrine in the first film, never ameliorating his abusive behavior.

The bulked-up Vincent Cassel is like a French old school De Niro as Mesrine, vicious yet undeniably charismatic. Gérard Depardieu also adds plenty of color as the Jabba the Hutt-like Guido. Unfortunately, Mesrine’s women (even his Spanish wife) are not well delineated either in the script or in the various supporting performances, problematically seeming to exist only as plot devices. Still, Instinct is not bereft of humanity, thanks to Michel Duchaussoy’s touching turn as Mesrine’s father.

After a tour-de-force opening, Richet allows Instinct to lag somewhat in the middle. This is definitely not a problem with the next installment opening September 3rd. Essentially, Instinct sets up the pins and Enemy knocks them down. Altogether, it is an ambitious, shrewdly executed crime drama worth the investment of two trips to the theater. Instinct opens Friday (8/27) at the Angelika, AMC Lincoln Square, and Empire 25 Theaters.

Manu Katche’s Good Grooves on Third Round

Americans would probably be surprised to hear a jazz musician is a judge for Nouvelle Star, the French equivalent of American Idol. Yet, few understand the mechanics of successful pop better than Manu Katché, who first came to international prominence in the bands of Sting and Peter Gabriel. Also a veteran of many continental jazz sessions, the French-African drummer is nothing if not flexible. His latest outing, Third Round, is a jazz affair with a decidedly funky edge, now available from ECM Records.

Though it starts on a deceptively delicate note, the set opening “Swing Piece” settles into a smoky late-night groove, showcasing Tore Brunborg’s warm tenor saxophone, subtly propelled by the leader’s crisp brush work. Part insistent bop, part backbeat-driven funk, the following “Keep on Trippin’” constantly changes hue and texture based on each successive solo, with some pretty tasty ones coming from pianist Jason Rebello and Brunborg.

Katché has a knack for penning fresh-sounding melodies like the spritely up-tempo “Being Ben,” which features a real clinic from the drummer on producing tonal colors from cymbals. Even when Katché dials down the dynamics on “Springtime Dancing” his new group constantly sounds energized by his grooves. Then on the odd but cool “Out Take Number Nine,” the shortest track of the session, Katché really lets loose his inner “Funky Drummer” while Rebello conversely dips deep into a Bill Evans bag. Yet, somehow it works quite effectively.

Though a steady diet of guest trumpeter Kami Lyle’s breathy vocals might be like ice cream for every meal, they come as a sweet palette cleanser on the achingly lyrical “Stay With You,” perfectly complimented by Brunborg’s rich, insinuating tenor. Lyle switches to her horn on the following “Flower Skin,” a moody hardbop piece also distinguished by the evocative work of another guest musician, Norwegian American guitarist Jacob Young. In an act of true musical generosity (and confidence), Katché sits out the elegantly minimalist “Urban Shadows” entirely, though frankly he is somewhat missed.

During the most memorable sequence in bassist Victor Wooten’s New Agey novel The Music Lesson, one particularly masterful drummer remains silent during his solo, simply nodding to the beat, because the groove he has already created remains so strong the audience can still feel it. Katché’s playing on Round often has that palpable rhythmic vibe. Highly melodic and downright fun, it is jazz anyone can appreciate.

ADFF Summer Series ’10: La Colombiana

The Colombian coast is where the Caribbean and South America meet. As one would expect, quite a diverse mix of influences are reflected in the region’s traditional music, reflecting the people’s African, indigenous, Spanish, and even Moorish heritage. Preserving Colombia’s musical legacy is truly the life’s work of Totó La Momposina, the country’s unofficial cultural ambassador to the world, who is profiled in Jake Holmes and Amanda Homi’s La Colombiana: Passing the Torch (trailer here), which screens next Sunday during the African Diaspora Film Festival’s 2010 Summer Series.

Usually simply called Totó in the film (like Elvis), the traditional cantadora vocalist became a favorite of the European festival circuit after her high profile performance at the Nobel Prize ceremony for Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Though host-co-producer-co-director-vocalist Homi never says so specifically, it seems clear European audiences support Totó’s music far more than her fellow Colombian countrymen. Yet, she is determined to keep her music living and vital in land where it was born. In fact, the younger generation has been fertile ground for her efforts. Indeed, the growing popularity of Cumbia dance contests among Colombian children visibly encourages the cantadora.

Totó has also recruited her grandchildren into her touring show for a series of numbers featuring the three musical generations of her family. Even though Homi clearly esteems her subject (freely admitting her suck-uppery), to her credit she still shows Totó’s stern taskmaster tendencies during rehearsals, occasionally even pushing her grandchildren to tears.

Regardless of her rehearsal demeanor, Totó’s music is both powerful and sophisticated. While it might have its own unique regional characteristics, there is an audible kinship to Cuban music, with its infectious percussion and impassioned trumpet accompaniment. Of course, that is hardly surprising given the geography of the hemisphere. In fact, she even includes a number of Cuban boleros in her repertoire.

With a running time of about an hour, Colombiana is the first of what Holmes and Homi obviously hope will become a series of profiles of world music divas. Homi might not be the most probing interviewer, but as a musician herself, she was rather successful getting Totó and her family to open up on-camera. She also has a lovely voice, heard during the closing credits.

Colombiana could be the start of a cool series that ought to be a good fit for PBS. For now, it screens next Sunday (8/29), followed by a special musical performance from Homi, as part of the ADFF Summer Series currently playing at the Riverside Theater.

ADFF Summer Series ’10: Arugba

A Nigerian clinic has just lost its fiftieth patient to AIDS. A world heath NGO has earmarked millions to shore up such provincial health centers, but do not expect it to trickle too far down. Indeed, graft is an every day fact of life in Tunde Kelani’s Yoruban drama Arugba (trailer here), which screens during the African Diaspora Film Festival’s 2010 Summer Series.

The royal Kabiyesi is a model of corruption in both his public and private lives. However, the people are growing increasingly impatient with his ineffectual economic reforms. Yet he spends more time worrying about his adoptive niece Adetutu’s fitness to serve as the Arugba or votary virgin during the town’s Osun Osogbo festival, than creating new jobs. He has his reasons, which will be revealed as the film unfolds.

Adetutu knows her pseudo-uncle is bad news, but she has yet to make up her mind about Makinwa, musician-choreographer who wants to perform with her, on-stage for starters. A case of Nollywood cribbing a page from Bollywood, Arugba includes several fully produced musical interludes featuring the not-yet couple.

Though Arugba had a particularly long gestation period by Nollywood standards, it is still fairly representative of the Nigerian film industry, albeit on the high end. Shot at warp speed on a shoe string budget, Nollywood films are often distinguished by their refreshingly odd plot turns. Evidently filmmakers who know they will crank out a dozen or so films in a year do not have much incentive to play it safe.

Arugba follows in that tradition, mixing satire and mysticism to tell an offbeat morality tale recognizably inspired by the former Preident Olusegun Obasanjo. In truth, the film’s attitudes are perfectly crystallized in an early scene featuring a deranged Christian street preacher railing against official corruption. Two matronly vendors basically admit he might be crazy, but he is not far wrong.

Neophyte Bukola Awoyemi has an appealing earthiness as Adetutu, making her a model of African female empowerment (despite the cheesy fight choreography she was stuck with). A veteran actor in international demand, Peter Badejo projects the right sinister gravitas as the corrupt sovereign. However, Segun Adefila is bit dull as a leading man, but his hip-hop influenced choreography is pretty cool.

Arugba is one of a number of strange-in-a-good-way films to have come out of Nigeria in recent years. The ADFF seems to have a knack for skimming the cream of Nollywood’s bounteous crop, like the curious evangelical fantasy Changing Faces. While it requires certain aesthetic allowances, Arugba is an intriguing film on several levels (despite several Obama references that already feel dated). It screens next Sunday (8/29) as part of the ADFF Summer Series now underway at the Riverside Theater.

ADFF Summer Series ’10: Wedding Song

He is the Axis powers’ ally quite conveniently forgotten in recent years. The Grand Mufti of Jerusalem incited attacks on Mid East Jewry, propagandized for the Germans, and even recruited volunteers for special Islamic Waffen-SS units. Thanks to his efforts, life becomes quite precarious for Tunisia’s Jewish citizens in Karin Albou’s The Wedding Song (trailer here), which screens next Saturday during the African Diaspora Film Festival’s 2010 Summer Series.

Friends since childhood, the Jewish Myriam and the Muslim Nour, are interested in love, not war. However, war finds the young women anyway in 1942 Tunisia, thanks to periodic Allied bombings. Unfortunately, in the short run these make life more difficult for the Jews of Tunis. As part of its strategy to secure Arabic support, the occupying National Socialist soldiers demand reparation payments from Tunisian Jews, which Myriam’s mother cannot afford.

In a twist of fate, the war becomes the catalyst for each woman’s very different marriage. Despite her protests, Myriam’s mother arranges her marriage to Raoul, a wealthy doctor many years her senior, in exchange for the money demanded of them by the Germans. Conversely, Nour is happily betrothed to her cousin Khaled, but her father has withheld his final consent until her unemployed fiancé gets a job. This he achieves with the occupying forces, assisting with the round-ups of Tunisian Jews.

As would be expected, the circumstances of the occupation put a strain on the young momen’s friendship. Ripe for anti-Semitic propaganda, the Islamist Khaled forbids Nour from seeing Myriam. Of course, as the one who taught Nour to read Arabic, Khaled might also consider the educated Myriam a dangerous influence on his prospective wife, possibly encouraging her to think for herself.

Given its traditional Tunisian settings, the frankness of Song is quite surprising. At times, the film feels intrusive, as when we see far too much of the difficult preparations Myriad undergoes for her wedding night. However, in other respects, Albou’s direction is quite sensitive, capturing some remarkable performances, particularly from Lizzie Brochere as Myriam and Simon Abkarian as the surprisingly complicated Raoul. The director’s perspective on the German forces is also quite effective. Seen as boots on the floor or ominous shadowy figures in the street, her camera refrains from direct eye contact, and thereby never humanizes them in any sense.

Song is an intimately human film, focusing squarely on the personal dramas of Myriam and Nour rather than the wider issues of war and ideology. Still, its depiction of occupied Tunis convincingly evokes the confusion and desperation of the time. Even though it concludes a bit abruptly, Song is a delicately crafted film that completely immerses viewers in a very specific time, place, and culture. Definitely recommended, it screens next Saturday (8/28) as part of the ADFF Summer Series at the Riverside Theater.

Soul Kitchen: Who Stole the Soul?

Talk about bait and switch. Instead of soul food, they serve nouveau fusion cuisine and alt-rock has replaced the classic soul music, yet Zinos still calls his restaurant Soul Kitchen. It does not seem to hurt business though in Fatih Akin’s Soul Kitchen (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

German-Greek restaurateur Zinos is not much of a cook, but his regulars eat up his greasy down-home offerings anyway. Recuperating from a back injury, Zinos makes a fateful decision, hiring a legit gourmet chef as his temporary replacement. In addition to being a culinary artist, Shayn happens to be Roma and intimidates people with his knife wielding prowess (nope, no cultural stereotypes going on here). Shayn alienates the local clientele with his new menu, but the hipsters start coming in droves. When Zinos hires his waiter Lutz’s grunge group to be the house band, suddenly Soul Kitchen is the in-scene.

Of course, Zinos is still besieged with a plague of dramas, most of which stem from Neumann (insert Seinfeld joke here), his long lost childhood chum, now a successful real estate developer. In Kitchen’s contrived world, such a profession guarantees his villainy. True to course, as soon as they reconnect, Neumann is scheming to swindle Zinos out of his primo property. Unfortunately, the unkempt restaurant proprietor is seriously distracted with his efforts to save his relationship with the severely Teutonic Nadine. Not for an instant though, are they remotely believable as a couple. On top of everything else, Zinos has to worry about his compulsive gambling brother, currently enjoying a prison furlough. Hey, no worries, everyone’s family at Soul Kitchen.

From the evil businessmen to the grumpy old neighbor, Kitchen does not miss a single cliché. That might have been forgivable had the film had a sense of fun. However, it is a surprisingly dour and uninvolving film. And yes, the largely Euro-alternative soundtrack is a major disappointment, given what one would expect from the title (and the misleading trailer).

Adam Bousdoukos tries to hit a likably nebbish note as Zinos, but he is such a doormat for trouble, it is hard to maintain a rooting interest in him. As Nadine, Pheline Roggan looks uncomfortable in every scene, which frankly makes her performance Kitchen’s most believable. The most intriguing turn comes from Anna Bederke as Lucia, the slightly less Teutonic waitress. Most of the cast though seems stuck on uber-indie quirky.

To get an idea of the fantasy world Kitchen is coming from, Zinos can expect compassion from the tax inspector and treachery from anyone with a real job. With few laughs in the offing, it all gets rather tiring. Aside from a bit of Quincy Jones’ “Hicky-Burr” (which is all kinds of awesome, by the way) the dark, hard-edged soundtrack is also mostly off-key. Safely skippable, Kitchen opens tomorrow (8/20) in New York at the IFC Center.

ADFF Summer Series ’10: Hearing Radmilla

During the Miss Navajo Nation beauty pageant, contestants are required to butcher a lamb, which is pretty cool. They also must demonstrate proficiency in other traditional aspects of Navajo culture, including fluency in the Navajo language, the area where Radmilla Cody particularly distinguished herself when she won her crown as the first bi-racial Miss Navajo. Cody revisits her controversial (but largely uneventful) reign and the dramatic events that followed in Angela Webb’s documentary profile Hearing Radmilla (trailer here), which screens this Sunday during the African Diaspora Film Festival’s 2010 Summer Series.

Cody is the daughter of a Navajo mother and an African-American father, but she was raised by her traditional Navajo grandmother. Eventually, she left for the big city of Phoenix, getting involved with a fast crowd and very definitely the wrong man. Though her reign as Miss Navajo required a chaste year-long separation from her Ike, it was evidently not enough, since she eventually took up with him again, despite his abuse and criminal activity. While she tried to resist, the former directly led to her involvement in the latter.

Indeed, the relationship cost Cody nearly everything, including her liberty. The sympathetic film clearly suggests the sentence she served was unfairly harsh, given her fear of her ex, but when she went to the trouble of unperjuring herself with the grand jury, but then did not come completely clean, she put herself in a tough position. She herself readily admits she made mistakes, but she has certainly paid for them.

If not the most artful documentary, Hearing is an informative film, particularly for those of us living in the Northeast, who are likely unfamiliar with Cody. It frequently challenges the New Agey politically correct vision of Native peoples, with the vitriolic response to Cody’s selection as Miss Navajo from some within her community. Webb quotes one hyperbolic letter to a Navajo newspaper likening her victory to “ethnic cleansing.” By and large though, she seems to be accepted by her fellow Navajo, even after her conviction. Indeed, she seems to be a superstar in some areas of Arizona and New Mexico thanks to her music, bringing a soul vocalist’s sensibility to traditional Navajo lyrics, as Robert Doyle, the president of her record label, cogently explains.

Still, most New Yorkers probably will not be familiar with Cody, which makes Hearing a good festival programming selection. Frankly, Hearing is a long shot to get much distribution outside the Southwest, so curious City patrons should check it out this Sunday (8/22) at the Riverside Theater, where the ADFF’s Summer series runs from the 20th to the 29th.