Scapegoat: Du Maurier’s Dead Ringer

If her uncle had not been such an idiot, Elizabeth II never would have been Queen.  Due to his dubious judgment, his brother’s daughter will soon ascend to the throne.  The caddish Johnny Spence half-jokingly describes the days leading up to her coronation a period of monarch-less anarchy.  It will indeed make a fitting backdrop for Charles Sturridge’s completely Anglicized adaptation of Daphne Du Maurier’s The Scapegoat (trailer here), which airs in syndication on participating PBS stations, including Chicago’s WTTW this coming Saturday night.

John Standing has just been downsized out of job as a boarding school teacher.  With no family to support and lacking any significant ambitions or prospects, he sets out on vaguely defined walking tour.  Stopping at a seedy public house, he is startled to come face to face with his dead ringer, the wastrel Johnny Spence.  After a night of imbibing with the charming but overbearing Spence, Standing is surprised to wake up and find the man has absconded with his anonymity, leaving him to take his position of wealth and privilege.

Unfortunately, Standing soon deduces the Spence family fortunes are sagging.  His doppelganger was hoping to save their glass foundry with a Hail Mary business deal, but he rather doubts the playboy pulled it off.  However, he is quite charmed to meet the man’s spirited young daughter (Mary Lou, a.k.a. Piglet) and his nervous wife Frances.  Conversely, he is quite uncomfortable around Nina, Spence’s sister-in-law with whom he seems to be having an affair with.  Yet, nobody seems to suspect his reluctant impersonation, not even his resentful brother Paul or their morphine addicted mother, Lady Spence.  Frankly, the family might just be better off with the new and improved Johnny Spence, but the old one is still out there, up to no good.

Produced by ITV, Scapegoat is a nifty little thriller that had a spot of film festival play before its American television run. Transferred from the south of France to post-war Britain, Sturridge’s adaptation is tightly paced and uses the impending coronation as a clever metaphor.  As the director of most of the beloved Brideshead Revisited miniseries as well as the masterful A Handful of Dust, Sturridge has a keen feel for Twentieth Century British period pieces.  He displays a nice touch with Scapegoat, combining a Downton-esque vibe with film noir-ish elements.

Logically, Sir Alec Guinness (the master of multiple parts) had first crack at the Standing/Spence role in Robert Hamer’s 1959 feature film.  Yet, Matthew Rhys (now probably best known for FX’s The Americans) steps into his shoes admirably well.  In fact, this might be his strongest small screen work, eclipsing his suitably brooding John Jasper in The Mystery of Edwin Drood.  His Spence is charismatically wicked, but he also makes a convincingly confused and depressed everyman as Standing.  Alice Orr-Ewing is a bit vanilla as poor Frances, but Andrew Scott (Jim Moriarty in Sherlock) adds some edgy energy into the mix as Paul Spence.  Yet, Sturridge’s wife and Brideshead co-star Phoebe Nicholls occasionally upstages everyone as the smart-than-her-employers housekeeper, Charlotte.

Altogether, The Scapegoat is quite cinematic by television standards.  Handsome looking and intelligently written, it is definitely recommended for fans of Brit mysteries and literary dramas when it airs on select PBS stations later in the month.

Lewis Series VI: Everything Much Change, Even in Oxford

If this really is the final appearance of Detective Inspector Robert “Robbie” Lewis, Masterpiece: Mystery really ought to play it up more.  Kevin Whately’s character has been a PBS fixture for years, dating back to his stint as second fiddle to John Thaw’s Inspector Morse.  However, ITV seems to think he will be back in a format yet to be determined.  In any event, Lewis will most likely investigate his final case with Detective Sergeant James Hathaway in Lewis Series VI (promo here), which begins this Sunday on most PBS outlets.

Season opener Down Among the Faithful begins a rough patch for DS Hathaway, who will spend most of the episode in a neck brace thanks to a fender bender.  The former seminarian also finds aspects of their latest case distasteful.  The victim in question was a clinical psychology research fellow, whose experiment attempted to irreparably undermine his subjects’ religious faith.  Bafflingly, the late Reuben Beatty also moonlighted as a psychic, causing much resentment from his fortune telling colleagues.  Faithful is a pretty straight forward procedural, but it is a nice example of how the series addresses hot button topics (in this case euthanasia) in a manner that should not perturb ardent partisans for either side.

Ostensibly, Hathaway gets a break in Ramblin’ Boy.  He will spend most of the episode on holiday, volunteering for a do-gooder mission in Pristina.  It does not sound like much of a vacation to Lewis either, so when he uncovers a Croatian connection to his latest case, he does not hesitate to call on Hathaway.

When a body supposedly cremated is discovered in a dumping ground, Lewis follows the trail from the funeral parlor to its dodgy co-owner, Peter Falkner, who has a long history of stymieing the Thames Valley constabulary.  Presumably, he had another body incinerated in the place of the embalmed corpse, but the tricky part for Lewis will be figuring out who that might be.  DC Alex Gray will do his best to pinch hit for Hathaway, but Lewis has other things on his mind, including finally putting the moves on the ever patience Dr. Laura Hobson, his forensic colleague.

Obviously, this episode delivers some long awaited payoff for series loyalists.  There has always been nice chemistry between Whately and Clare Holman and they ease into their late middle aged romance in a mature, believable manner.  Likewise, Babou Ceesay is appealingly earnest as Gray, while former Doctor Who Peter Davison (also familiar to Masterpiece Mystery viewers as Campion) plays Falkner with snide relish.  Clearly setting the stage for character life changes, Ramblin’ is one of the strongest episodes of the entire series, in part because of the way it temporarily breaks format, only to bring it all back together at the end.

Whether or not Intelligent Design is the final episode of Lewis, it will be the end of an era.  Hathaway is back from the Balkans and he is moodier than ever.  In contrast, Lewis is pleased as pie with the way things are going with the good Dr. Hobson.  The latest vic was not so happy in his relationship.  Richard Seager, a chemist and advocate of the theory of intelligent design (in Oxford, really?), just served a prison sentence for a drunk driving fatality. On his first night of freedom, he was lured out to his driveway and run over with the same fateful Jaguar (in a nice hat-tip to Morse).  

While the family of his victim does not exactly mourn his passing, it seems the deceased was still planning to divorce his long suffering vicar wife.  Lewis and Hathaway will have plenty of suspects, some of whom will not survive to see the closing credits.  The Sergeant will be particularly troubled by this, leading him to question his career choice.

Fans should rest assured, nobody will leave Lewis in the manner Dan Stevens’ Cousin Matthew exited Downton Abbey.  Laurence Fox notably closes his run on the show by appearing with his uncle, Edward Fox, who plays the college master, Dr. Yardley, with his patented British upper-crustness.  Fittingly, the investigative narrative is a cut above average and the scenes between the retirement-planning mentor and his disillusioned protégé are endearing but suitably restrained.

Although Endeavour, the chronicles of the young Morse, is well positioned to inherit the Lewis-Morse viewership, it is not hard to envision how the Lewis franchise could continue in a less demanding fashion for Whately.  Holman is a well established character by now, who could easily become the focus, periodically consulting on cases with now just plain Robbie Lewis at home.  Rebecca Front’s Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent is still a perfectly good mum and DC Gray could easily be bumped up to DS.  This is all speculation, but that is what mystery fans do.

Lewis has been a rare warhorse in the Masterpiece Mystery stable that has improved with age.  Lewis, Hathaway, and Holman are likably human, but they also have more than a bit of attitude.  They all enjoy a pint or two as well, which hardly hurts, either.  The formula really works here, so it would be nice if ITV can reconfigure it.  Regardless, Lewis series VI is easily recommended for British mystery fans when it premieres on PBS this Sunday (6/16), concluding two weeks later (6/30).

Awesome Fest ’13: Rewind This!

The classic 1980’s movie hero was a commando who could inexplicably bury himself in mud, yet spring up at exactly the right time to ambush an enemy army.  Today’s prototypical protagonist is a man-child who tries to win back his elfin girlfriend by working in an organic food coop.  How did we go so far wrong as a culture?  Back then, the best way to watch a bunch of crap blow-up was on VHS.  It still is for some die-hards.  Josh Johnson profiles the VHS tape and the people who love it in Rewind This (trailer here), which screens during the 80’s themed Awesome Fest in Philadelphia.

There are scads of oddball films that were released on VHS, but have yet to get the DVD treatment.  Partly this is because the big studios were late to party (like they were right on time for the digital download thing), leaving the field open to bargain hunting independents.  More importantly, the voracious demand of mom-and-pop rental stores across the country required a constant stream of new product, regardless of good taste or logic.  Those zero budget wonders are a major reason why some collectors bitterly cling to their VHS tapes.

Johnson gives a good overview of VHS’s origins and its triumph over Betamax.  While he covers the love affair between VHS and porn, he does not belabor the point, preferring to focus on the old school action and horror movies that became mass market commodities thanks to home video.  In addition to a motley crew of blogger-collectors, Rewind features commentary from legendary grindhouse director Frank Henenlotter, Cassandra “Elvira, Mistress of the Dark” Peterson, Lloyd “Troma” Kaufman, David “The Rock” Nelson, and dudes from SXSW, Something Weird, Twitch, Severin Films, Cinefamily, and Alamo Drafthouse.  There is also a Japanese contingent, including Shinji Imaoka, the director of Underwater Love, probably the most endearing Pinku Eiga film ever.

Rewind does not skimp on the vintage clips, reveling in the aesthetics of direct-to-video exploitation movies with lushly painted pre-Photo Shop covers.  Unfortunately, the not infrequent whining about big media corporations quickly grows tiresome.  It is also rather off the mark.  No distributors were bigger cutthroat capitalists than Golan-Globus, yet they brought us VHS milestones like the American Ninja franchise.  Sadly, viewer tastes just shifted from red meat to vegan comfort food.

Despite the occasional eye-rolls, Rewind This offers some heartfelt nostalgia for some of the scrappiest films ever haphazardly released.  Good, kind of clean fun overall, Rewind This! is recommended for all cult cinema fans when it screens Monday night (6/17) as part of Awesome Fest, which also totally deserves your support for their 30^th anniversary screening of The Adventures of Bob & Doug McKenzie: Strange Brew on July 8^th.

HRWFF ’13: Camp 14—Total Control Zone

As a child born into a life in North Korea’s prison camps, Shin Dong-huyk thought nothing was amiss when he witnessed the three hour beating of an eight year old girl caught with five grains of wheat in her pocket.  Evidently, Dennis Rodman, the regime’s newest apologist, has no problems with it either.  However, all viewers of good conscience will be horrified by the stories Shin and two former DPRK officials have to tell in Marc Wiese’s documentary Camp 14—Total Control Zone (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Human Rights Watch Film Festival.

That poor girl died from the injuries she sustained from her “teacher.”  Her case is the norm rather than the exception.  Children born to prisoners (because a guard either raped their mothers or arranged a coupling as a reward for heavy toiling) have a short life expectancy.  Shin beat the odds surviving Camp 14 into his teen years, but at a price.  At one point, Shin’s brainwashing led him to make a decision that still haunts him today.

Hyuk Kwon was a guard at Camp 22, where he tortured and executed prisoners on a daily basis.  Oh Yangnam was a member of the secret police, who regularly rounded-up and interrogated suspects on the thinnest of pretexts.  Both have defected to South Korea, yet they worry they might see some of the prisoners they once tormented should the two Koreas ever unify.  Their accounts match Shin’s experiences, chapter and verse.

Through their testimony, sometimes illustrated by Ali Soozandeh’s stark animated sequences, Control conveys the breadth and depth of the Communist regime’s thought control.  Clearly, any notion of human rights is absolutely foreign to North Koreans.  Ostensibly, Control ends on an ironic note, with Shin expressing his ambivalence about the free South.  Yet, his remarks really prove just how profoundly broken he is as a human being.

Wiese has assembled a riveting examination of oppression and its lasting impact on the human psyche.  While he maintains an intimate focus on his interview subjects, Soozandeh’s animation is grimly evocative, adding a truly cinematic dimension to the documentary. 

This is a very good film, but also a very depressing one. The picture of North Korea that emerges is truly the closest thing on Earth to Orwell’s 1984—a dystopian state with complete disregard for its citizens’ well being.  However, it points viewers towards Liberty in North Korea (LiNK), a rescue and advocacy organization Shin is affiliated with.  Frankly, this is exactly the sort of film HRWFF needs to program more often (instead of Occupy Wall Street polemics).  Highly recommended, it screens this coming Thursday (6/20) at the IFC Center and next Friday (6/21) at FSLC’s Francesca Beale Theater.

HRWFF ’13: Salma

Evidently, Vitamin D is not a big priority in the provincial Muslim communities of southern India—women’s rights even less so.  One prominent Tamil woman understands this from first-hand experience.  For nine years, her family kept her locked away from the outside world until she finally consented to an arranged marriage.  The poet-politician tells her story in Kim Longinotto’s documentary profile, Salma (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Human Rights Watch Film Festival.

The pre-teenaged Salma (as she is simply known) desperately tried to hide the onset of puberty, because she knew her parents will pull her out of school and sequester her until marriage. She actually valued learning, making her quite the problem child.  She was also disinclined to marriage, holding out for as long as possible.  Finally, she acquiesced, only to find her circumstances largely remained the same.  Only her jailers changed.

Secretly, at great risk of physical abuse or worse, Salma starting writing poetry, which a sympathetic family member furtively submitted to a publisher (not completely unlike Jafar Panahi’s This is not a Film, smuggled out of Iran in a cake).  Her powerful verse became a sensation, scandalizing the village and outraging her family.  However, it also made her a celebrity, forcing her in-laws to let her out into the world, setting the stage for an unlikely political career.

Salma is an eloquent advocate for reform and her experiences are almost unfathomable for the Twenty-First Century.  She is well worth listening to, but Longinotto allows her to leave obvious 800 pound gorilla questions unanswered.  Most notably, just about every viewer will wonder why she remains silent on the nature of the religion used to justify her oppression.  In fact, she is still outwardly quite devout.  Is it all for the sake of her political career?  Longinotto never pushes her on the issue, despite all the fundamentalist misogyny expressed by her grown nephew, among others.

Nonetheless, reality speaks for itself in every frame of the film.  Indeed, the implications of Salma’s personal history are inescapable.  Longinotto nicely incorporates Salma’s verse, adding a literary dimension to the film.  Informative and bravely intimate in a burqa-less way, Salma screens tomorrow (6/14) at the IFC Center and Saturday (6/15) at the Francesca Beale Theater.

The Guillotines: Heads Up

Widely feared for their decapitation weapons, the Guillotines consider themselves the Emperor’s A-team for sensitive mission.  Unfortunately, they find out they are simply expendable crewmen in Andrew Lau’s The Guillotines (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Wolf is the ironically named leader of the rebellious shepherd gang, who seems to think his fate is connected to that of Leng, the Guillotines’ trusted squad leader.  With Wolf imprisoned and scheduled for execution, Leng pays little heed to his captive’s mumbo jumbo.  Unfortunately, a daring rescue operation frees Wolf, in the process taking prisoner Musen, their comrade and daughter of their revered commander.

Obviously, this is a black eye for the Guillotines, but it gets worse.  The emperor has decided to sacrifice the Guillotines on an ostensive clean-up mission.  As it happens, Leng is well acquainted with the man charged with his team’s destruction.  He and Agent Du were recruited as young children to faithfully serve the emperor.  While Du remains unswervingly committed to the royal sovereign, Leng feels a stronger kinship with his team.  Ironically, he finds temporary shelter with his old nemesis, Wolf.

Considering the wicked Krull like weapons sported by the Guillotines, the pseudo-Shaw Brothers remake is surprisingly stingy with the martial arts throwdowns.  Frustratingly, most of the action consists of large set piece massacres of Wolf’s ragtag contingent, which are really not much fun at all.

Indeed, The Guillotines follows in a long line of historical dramas that not so subtly suggest a strong centralizing authority is in the national interest because it provides stability.  Of course, this is an attractive argument if you happen to be part of that centralized power structure.  Still, the film incorporates the traditional Han and Manchu conflict in intriguing ways.

As Leng and Du, Ethan Juan and Shawn Yue develop a nice Cain-and-Abel tension, while Li Yuchun convincingly renders Musen’s awakening of conscience.  In contrast, the rest of the Guillotines, though introduced individually in the cool credit sequence, are not meaningfully delineated as characters.

Frankly, there are just too many scenes of terrified peasants fleeing the Imperial war machine, followed-up with precious little payoff.  It is a quality period production, but there is too much message and not enough old school entertainment.  A disappointment for martial arts fans, The Guillotines opens this Friday (6/14) in New York at the IFC Center.

3 Kinds of Exile: John Guare’s Separation Anxiety

It is an insidious tool used to control dissent, yet sometimes it comes as a relief.  Whether voluntary or forced, separation from one’s homeland is a difficult proposition to face.  Playwright John Guare explores the phenomenon in his new theatrical hybrid triptych, 3 Kinds of Exile, which officially opened last night at the Atlantic Theater Company’s Linda Gross Theater.

Exile’s first segment, Karel, quickly establishes the minimalist tone through a brief but captivating monologue.  An unnamed actor relates the experiences of his friend, a former kindertransport refugee. Despite the success he found as an adult, the first exile’s guilt eventually manifests itself in a rather macabre fashion.  While the Kafka influence is inescapable, it is still an intriguing tale.  Martin Moran (who has appeared in several of his own one-man shows) tells it with confidence, nicely conveying the drama and angst of his friend’s situation as a second-hand reporter.

The middle piece of Exile will likely generate the most attention in the theater world, because it represents the first time the playwright has performed in his own play.  In fact, Elzbieta Erased is all about stage and screen history, telling the mostly sad history of Elzbieta Czyzewska.  Once one of Poland’s most acclaimed thespians, Czyzewska marriage to American journalist David Halberstam directly led to her exile and a sometimes brilliant but decidedly erratic career Off-Broadway, well before Off-Broadway was cool.

Essentially, Erased is a dramatic A-V presentation adapted from a previous Guare one-act, featuring the writer and Polish actor Omar Sangare detailing the trials and tribulations of Czyzewska’s life.  However, it takes on unexpectedly heavy significance when both men start to reveal their connections to Czyzewska.  In fact, it is hard to imagine a production of Exile without them.  Sangare is an electric stage presence and Guare is the veritable personification of erudite sophistication.  Hearing their tribute to Czyzewska is completely absorbing and genuinely moving, even with the pseudo-lecture hall staging.

Exile ends with a spot of musical theater, albeit of a somewhat absurdist variety.  Inspired by his work, Funiage turns the spotlight on the Polish novelist Witold Gombrowicz.  Not particularly well regarded at home, Gombrowicz accepts an offer to lecture Argentina’s Polish expatriate community on the greatness of proper Polish literature, on the eve of World War II.  The expats did not think much of him either, but at least there were women to carouse with on the ship.

Ironically, Funiage is the most upbeat segment of Exile, even though it deliberately echoes Weil & Brecht’s productions.  Indeed, Gombrowicz is an attractive figure, who was evidently largely satisfied working as a Buenos Aires bank clerk by day and writing in relative obscurity at night.  David Pittu (who played Brecht in the Broadway musical LoveMusic) is wildly charismatic as Gombrowicz, while also expressing a sad, world weary earnestness.

Of course, Guare is best known as the writer of Six Degrees of Separation, which factors prominently in Elzbieta Erased.  3 Kinds of Exile is more avant-garde in form than his signature work, but the stories are still easily accessible and immediately engaging.  There are some deep truths in each piece, as well as several dynamic performances.  Recommended for slightly adventurous patrons, it runs through June 23rd at the Linda Gross Theater.

(Photo: Kevin Thomas Garcia)

HRWFF ’13: Camera/Woman

In Morocco, men are rigidly patriarchal and domineering of woman, yet they often expect their wives and sisters to provide for them.  That is a nasty catch-22 to reconcile.  The divorced Khadija does her best as a wedding videographer, but it is never good enough for her freeloading family.  Karima Zoubir documents her daily grind in Camera/Woman (trailer here), an Al Jazeera co-production screening as part of the 2013 Human Rights Watch Film Festival.

Morocco is a man’s world, but women like Khadija do all the house work and evidently pay most of the bills.  After her divorce, she and her young son moved back in with her parents and her lazy brothers.  At least her mother does some cooking. The rest of the family seems incapable of doing anything besides passing judgment on her.  Yet, it is her jobs videotaping weddings (where everyone looks happy except the brides) and circumcision ceremonies that pays their rent. Unfortunately, that means she must work evening hours, which essentially makes her a prostitute in the eyes of her brother Abdel.  Why, he can barely find the magnanimity to gorge on the food she buys.

Eventually, Khadija’s conflict with her family reaches a critical point, remaining unresolved when Zoubir’s film ends.  If she made good on her promise to cut them off financially, there is an excellent chance they have all starved to death since then.

Yes, C/W is brought to you in part by Al Jazeera and, no, the film never digs too deeply into the socio-religious institutions responsible for the rampant sexism and exploitation Khadija and her fellow divorcees endure.  Still, the women mince no words, decrying: “In our society there’s no mercy. It’s ruthless.”  Likewise, it is clearly a disastrous Ramadan celebration when the family resentments come to a head.

C/W is far from a perfect film.  Khadija’s friends are not well established and most of her family is understandably camera shy.  Nonetheless, it vividly illustrates the misogynist nature of traditional Islamist society.  Camera/Woman is the sort of film that instills outrage and a feeling of helplessness in viewers.  Presented on a double bill with Going Up the Stairs, it makes a convincing case women’s rights are several millennia behind the times in the Middle East.  One of a handful of eye-opening selections at this year’s HRW Film Fest, Camera/Woman screens this coming Sunday (6/16) at the IFC Center and the following Tuesday (6/18) at the Francesca Beale Theater.

Berberian Sound Studio: Giallo Madness

This might be the most anti-horror movie genre freak-out, perhaps ever.  Do not tell the hapless sound engineer in question he is just working on a movie or the violent images he sees are no big deal.  The vintage-era Italian giallo will profoundly disturb the nebbish Brit throughout Peter Strickland’s Berberian Sound Studio (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Poor Gilderoy assumed he had been hired to engineer the sort of nature documentary that has been his specialty.  Unfortunately, The Equestrian Vortex is anything but.  This will be the latest gore fest from the notorious giallo auteur, Santini (who does that name remind you of?).  The film opens with a girl on a horse, but she will soon find herself in a bacchanal of witchcraft and graphic, sexually charged violence.  Gilderoy is not prepared for this material, but nobody refuses Santini.

Right from the start, Santini and the staff of the grimy 1970’s sound studio torment Gilderoy with mind games.  The engineer’s mental and emotional health quickly deteriorates as he records the smashing pumpkins and other foley effects that accompany the on-screen tortures.  On the plus side, there are elegant Mediterranean bombshells coming in out of the studio to record their screams, but only Silvia, the fading starlet, shows him any kindness.  Of course, she is no match for the notorious Santini, or his Mephistophelean producer Francesco.

The fresh produce sacrificed to make Berberian could have made a month of salads for the Italian army, but it all has the desired impact.  In a more just world, Berberian should be an Oscar shoe-in for the sound categories.  However, the Academy will probably be far too uncomfortable with the film’s premise and implications.

Indeed, Berberian is unusually forthright questioning the cumulative impact of desensitizing imagery, far surpassing Cronenberg’s somewhat thematically related Videodrome.  Shrewdly, Strickland never shows the audience the Equestrian horrors slowly boring their way into Gilderoy’s brain.  It is far more unsettling to hear them take shape in the studio and to watch the engineer’s pained responses.  This is an artfully creepy film that skillfully builds the claustrophobic tension, up until the third act collapses into surreal reality-problematizing bedlam.

Who knew Toby Jones had this in him?  As Gilderoy, he quietly but rather spectacularly portrays a shy, reserved man coming apart at the seams, in a marked departure from his supercilious type-casting.  As his polar opposite, Cosimo Fusco’s Francesco is malevolent sleazebag worthy of the giallo tradition.

Yet, the real stars of Berberian are the technical crew who so perfectly recreate the look, sound, and general vibe of the genre.  Listening to Broadcast’s original score, one could easily believe it came off a rare vinyl soundtrack (that’s a good thing). Similarly, production designer Jennifer Kernke’s team painstaking attention to period detail makes the analog studio feel like a truly real (and really awful) place to work.

This is a superior midnight-genre film that might just challenge regular midnight-genre patrons.  Oddly enough, it also happens to be one of the year’s best period productions.  Highly recommended for open-minded cult movie fans, Berberian Sound Studio opens this Friday (6/14) at the IFC Center.

HRWFF ’13: Going Up the Stairs

Any women creating art in today’s Iran could be classified as an “Outsider Artist,” because you just cannot get anymore “outside” than a woman trying to express herself artistically in the Islamist state.  The devout Akram Sartakhti apparently has no interest in political subject matter, but she still must navigate the institutionalized misogyny.  Rokhsareh Ghaem Maghami documents her work and complicated domestic life in Going Up the Stairs: a Portrait of an Unlikely Iranian Artist (trailer here), which screens during the 2013 Human Rights Watch Film Festival.

At the age of nine, Sartakhti was married off the Heider Rahimi, a colleague of her father’s, who was seventeen years her senior.  When the Shah was scheduled to visit her school, Sartkhti and her classmates were told to leave their headscarves at home.  Instead, she dropped out before learning how to read.  For years, she lived in fear of her domineering husband, but as they advanced in age, her comparative youth somewhat turned the tables.  Late in life, she turned the second floor of their townhouse into a studio.

However, Iranian law grants husbands ironclad control over their wives.  Throughout Stairs, Sartakhti is worried Rahimi will refuse her permission to travel to Paris, where her grown children have organized an exhibition of her work, as an arbitrary means of asserting his power.

Sartakhti’s paintings clearly fit within the Outsider rubric.  While nowhere near as polished or sophisticated as Iran Darroudi’s surreal landscapes, her surprisingly large canvasses show an intriguing sense of composition and a striking use of color.  They are worth seeing, but of course public exhibition will always be a tricky proposition for any woman artist under the current regime.

Serving as her own camera crew, Maghami obviously earned the trust of the artist and her husband.  Still, one wonders what happens after she left.  Frankly, there is often a pronounced disconnect between the on-screen calm captured on film and the bitter stories Sartakhti tells of the early years of her arranged marriage.  Many people will take Stairs as proof arranged spouses can always grow to love each other, but at what cost?  Maghami’s doc is rather ambiguous on this question.

Nevertheless, the fifty-one minute Stairs pretty clearly establishes the mandated gender inequalities of today’s Iran and how they severely hinder even a staunchly traditional woman like Sartakhti.  An interesting portrait of an artist marginalized simply because she is a woman, Going Up the Stairs is one of the stronger selections of this year’s Human Rights Watch Fest.  It screens on a double bill with Camera/Woman this coming Sunday (6/16) at the IFC Center and the following Tuesday (6/18) at the Francesca Beale Theater.

The Stroller Strategy: A Baby Not Having a Baby

What could be more attractive than accidental fatherhood?  Do not fret.  This mostly unemployed freelance artist is not really a new father.  He is just trying to take advantage of an unlikely set of circumstances to win back his former girlfriend in Clément Michel’s The Stroller Strategy (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Marie Deville fell for Thomas Platz when he crashed her birthday party.  However, his immaturity and reluctance to even consider a family slowly taxes her patience.  The sad sack is totally blind-sided when she summarily dumps him, rather inconveniently on her same birth date.  He does not deal with her rejection in a productive manner.  Yet, when he finds himself caring for a hospitalized neighbor’s infant, Platz recognizes an opportunity.  Since the break-up, Deville quit her nursing job, opening an upscale infant education and recreational center.  Guess who shows up as a prospective client.

While Strategy revisits well worn territory, Michel’s execution is mostly harmless.  As Platz and Deville, Raphaël Personnaz and Charlotte Le Bon develop some pleasant chemistry.  The latter has a genuinely luminous screen presence, making it rather challenging to believe the two could ever be a couple, even with their nice bantering rhythms.

Unfortunately, every joke you expect eventually turns up in Strategy, mostly garnering eye-rolls.  As a notable exception, Julie Ferrier is wickedly funny as Platz’s cougarish classmate, Valérie. Conversely, the gags involving Platz’s friend and stroller strategy advocate, Paul Bordinot, border on the creepy, while Jérôme Commandeur’s shticky performance does little to rehabilitate them.

There are few surprises in Strategy, which will be reassuring for some viewers.  Admirably, it suggests fatherhood, commitment, honesty, and steady employment are all very good things.  Still, it is funniest when Ferrier is on-screen, but alas, her supporting role is relatively small.  At best a middling trifle viewers will be hard pressed to remember a week later, The Stroller Strategy opens this Friday (6/14) in New York at the Angelika Film Center.

Loznitsa’s In the Fog

Some people are born to curry favor with successive regimes, regardless of changing ideologies.  There are also those who are constitutionally incapable of ingratiating themselves with the powers that be.  Sushenya is definitely the latter sort, but through a cruel twist, he finds himself suspected of collaboration in Sergei Loznitsa’s WWII drama, In the Fog (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

When Burov knocks on his door late one night, Sushenya knows the partisan has come to execute him.  Burov would have done the deed right there and then, were it not for the presence of the condemned man’s son.  Instead, he and his squirrely comrade Voitek march Sushenya out into the Belorussian forest.  However, German patrols are out in force this particular night, drastically altering the course of Burov’s score-settling mission.

For the three main characters, backstory is truly destiny.  Through extended flashbacks, Loznitsa shows the audience the ironic events that inevitably led the trio into the fateful forest.  There is an inescapably absurdist character to In the Fog, as its characters doggedly tramp through the woods, evading the Germans as best they can, despite the awkward circumstances that brought them together.

Yet, In the Fog is also closely akin to Jean-Pierre Melville’s Army of Shadows.  Loznitsa’s adaptation of Vasil Bykov’s novel hardly idolizes the Communist partisans.  Frankly, it suggests they are more interested in suspected turncoats like Sushenya than taking the war to Germans.  Neither Sushenya nor Burov are Party people, so to speak.  Voitek is not exactly a true believer either, but his craven nature is more compatible with his fellow comrades.  Indeed, during Sushenya’s flashback, one of his railroad co-workers observes how their former Communist tormentor had so quickly aligned himself with the new National Socialist occupiers.

Vladimir Svirskiy looks profoundly miserable as Sushenya.  It is a performance of striking physicality, perfectly suited to Loznitsa’s taciturn film.  As Voitek, Sergei Kolesov also taps into just about every unedifying aspect of human nature, without overplaying any of them.  Even with his dramatic origin story, Vladislav Abashin’s Burov remains something of a cipher, but Vlad Ivanov (the abortionist in 4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days) casts a long shadow over the film as the deceitful German officer, Grossmeier.

Yes, once night breaks, there will be plenty of fog to represent to moral murkiness facing the film’s characters.  There will be no heroics in the wartime USSR, no matter who holds Sushenya’s village.  Loznitsa offers viewers little consolation and his purposeful pacing will be problematic for antsy viewers.  Yet, his long tracking shots are quite striking (especially the opening hanging sequence).  Impressively bracing, In the Fog is recommended rather highly for adult attention spans when it opens this Friday (6/14) in New York at the Village East.

KCS Korean Movie Night: Architecture 101

Does anything say “I love you” better than a high-maintenance low-profile commission?  It will be a heck of a house, but whether the architect and his client will rekindle their lost love is far less certain in Lee Yong-ju’s Architecture 101 (trailer here), which screens Tuesday night as part of the Korean Cultural Service’s free Korean Movie Night in New York.

The rough around the edges Lee Seung-min is his firm’s best architect, but his boss is far better dealing with clients.  At least, he is now somewhat less socially awkward than he was as an undergraduate architecture major.  Needless to say, he is quite surprised when Yang Seo-yeon, the girl who broke his heart freshman year, hires him to rebuild her family home on Jeju Island.  Despite her hotness and his geekiness, they had partnered together for their intro to architecture class project, which gave them the opportunity to take many long picturesque walks together through Seoul and also thereby providing the film with its title.

Initially reluctant to accept the commission, his work brings back all the painful memories he feared, as the audience sees in flashbacks.  Of course, the end of their chaste pseudo-courtship was considerably more complicated than he realized at the time.  It sure would make things neat and tidy if Lee and Yang could just pick up where they left off, but he has sort of moved on since freshman year.

Okay, you probably mostly know the score from here.  Director Lee delivers most of the anticipated melodramatic goods, flashing forwards and backwards between the pair of star-crossed couples, erecting barriers to their unspoken love in each time period.  Still, 101 is notable as a major departure from his previous film, the religiously themed horror movie Possessed.  There are no spinning heads here.  In fact, Lee exercises admirable restraint, by genre standards, largely trusting the circumstances of the central relationship to carry the film without a lot of added heart-string pulling.

Uhm Tae-woong is actually rather grounded and reasonably manly as the adult architect Lee, whereas his younger analog can be difficult to watch mope about.  Still, it is not hard to understand why he fell for Bae Suzy’s ethereal coed.  Han Ga-in also portrays Yang’s grown-up disappointments for affecting honesty and charisma.

Yes, there are all kinds of manipulation going on in 101, particularly with regards to the song that never quite became “their song.”  However, the house that Lee builds is quite striking.  Architectural Digest readers look for a weepy love story should inhale this film.  While the exact structure was not built to last, the café “Seo-yeon’s House” now stands in its place, remodeled in a style reminiscent of the on-screen domicile.

As a film, 101 never transcends its genre, but viewers in the mood for a sad romance will find it competently done and likely pretty satisfying.  Not classic, but better than the cynical might expect, Architecture 101 screens for free, courtesy of the Korean Cultural Service, this Tuesday (6/11) at the Tribeca Cinemas in New York.

DWF ’13: House of Good and Evil

It is a remote fixer-upper with no power or phone lines.  The spacious duplex sounds perfect for a young couple hoping to heal their troubled relationship.  They will take it, once the realtor duly shows them the remnant of the Indian burial ground and the stake where they used to burn the witches.  It is cheap, and best of all, the second unit already has tenants: the wildly anti-social, old Mr. and Mrs. Anderson.  Unfortunately, their new surroundings do not have the desired effect in David Mun’s House of Good and Evil (trailer here), which screens tomorrow as part of this year’s Dances With Films.

Chris Conley has trouble with booze and his temper.  When his wife Maggie miscarries, it is his fault.  To make it up to her, he buys her a new house in the middle of nowhere.  Cell service is spotty out there and the lines go down so often the utilities quit repairing them.  However, there is a lovely generator out back. Immediately after moving in, she starts hearing a phone ringing from the Andersons’ side of the house.  Of course, her husband just assumes she is being a hysterical woman and promptly disappears for his forest firefighter training.

Strange things start to happen to around the creaky old house, but it is the sound of the ringing phone and Mrs. Anderson’s weird conversations (that sound a lot like the old “Shut Up Little Man” recordings) that really get to her.  Eventually, she becomes rather preoccupied with her unseen neighbors.

What really distinguishes House from the indie horror pack is the mournful vibe Mun achieves.  One gets a powerful sense things would not be right between the Conleys even if they had moved into a “House of Just Plain Good.”  Sensitively lensed by Jared Noe and nicely enhanced by Mickey Ray’s detailed sets, House has an unusually strong sense of mise-en-scène compared to the genre standard.  The problem is the screenplay.  Anyone with a few midnight movies under their belts will predict the third act Shyamalan well before it drops.

Still, Rachel Marie Lewis soldiers on quite compellingly as Maggie Conley and Saved by the Bell refugee Christian Oliver is actually not bad as her frustrated and frustrating husband.  Some of their scenes together have real bite.  Unfortunately, we know where it is all going, even if they do not.

House should work well as a show reel for Mun, his co-leads, and his technical collaborators.  Audiences will recognize considerable talent went into it, even though the sum of its parts is greater than its whole.  A passable outing for genre diehards looking for something that has not been talked to death on fan sites, House of Good and Evil screens tomorrow night (6/9), concluding the 16^th Dances With Films.

DWF ’13: Steve Chong Finds Out

Why is Steve Chong so depressed?  Maybe it is due to feelings of inadequate facial hair.  If so, he probably picked the wrong friends.  Nevertheless, the bearded slackers will do their best to prevent their buddy from taking the final exit in Charlie LaVoy’s Steve Chong Finds Out that Suicide is a Bad Idea (trailer here), which screens today as part of Dances With Films at the TCL Chinese Theatres (where they should have a long enough marquee to fit that title).

Chong was never really suited to his job as a sushi chef, but getting fired hardly helps his mental outlook.  When his extreme shyness sabotages what might have been his last best shot with Alice, the waitress he has long carried a torch for, Chong is pretty much ready to cash in his chips.  However, he will first invite over his goofball friends for a weekend at his parents’ lake house.  Unable to hold his booze like they can, the stink-faced Chong lets his plans slip during a drinking game.  The next morning, he does not seem to remember the episode, but his friends do.

Frankly, some of the cleverest bits of SCFOTSIABI involve their attempts to child-proof the lake house.  LaVoy and screenwriter-co-star Owen Hornstein III probably could have mined the suicide prevention efforts for more dark physical humor.  One cannot help wondering what Jacques Tati’s evil twin could have done with this premise.  Rather, LaVoy and his cast of filmmaking collaborators are more interested with exploring themes of friendship and loyalty.  That is all very nice, but it could have been funnier.

Still, there is no question SCFOTSIABI connects with the economic anxiety that has plagued the country (especially recent college graduates) for the last six years or so.  Chong may yet to find out about suicide, but he understands the reality of a “soft recovery” all too well.  Wisely, the film never overplays its hand with fleetingly topical references, focusing instead on perennials bummers, like crummy jobs, difficult bosses, and estranged friends.

Stanley Wong (who also edited SCFOTSIABI) is appropriately awkward and tightly wound as Chong and develops some convincing chemistry with the grizzly trio.  Viewers will believe they all have some long, complicated history together.  While Hornstein and Tyler Russell’s constant feuding gets a bit tiresome, standout Joe Sökmen has some memorable moments of honesty as John, who passes for the mature one in this Rat Pack.

Speaking of lake houses, if Chong had recently seen the Keanu Reeves-Sandra Bullock remake, it would also explain his suicidal impulses.  To the credit of the co-producing cast, they largely avoid such sentimental excesses.  While seemingly tailor made for Hangover comparisons, SCFOTSIABI is really more about avoiding a truly awful morning after.  A nice, intermittently amusing film about friendship, Steve Chong Finds Out that Suicide is a Bad Idea screens this afternoon (6/7) as part of the “Sweet Sixteen” Dances With Films in Hollywood.

Whedonized Shakespeare: Much Ado About Nothing

Shall we compare Shakespeare to a superhero?  His work transcends time and space, after all.  No less an authority than Joss Whedon, the director of The Avengers, proves the point once again with his modernized yet still satisfying Much Ado About Nothing (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

As you really ought to know, Ado is a comic tale involving sibling rivalry, mistaken identity, and of course, love.  Don Pedro has just routed an insurrection led by his deceitful brother, Don John.  To enjoy the afterglow of victory, Don Pedro and his trusted lieutenants, the roguish Benedick and the earnest young Claudio, accept the hospitality of Leonato, the governor of Messina.   Don John also arrives with his brother.  They have supposedly buried the hatchet, but their truce is decidedly frosty.

In contrast, Benedick brashly presses his longstanding “merry war” with Beatrice, Leonato’s tart tongued niece. To mix Shakespearean quotations, Leonato and Don Pedro decide the sarcastic couple “doth protest too much” and secretly contrive to bring them together, like practical jokester cupids.  Benedick and Beatrice get all the play’s best lines, but the above-board romance between Claudio and Leonato’s daughter Hero supplies all the plot points.  As he instructs his remaining retainers, Don John would be quite pleased to see their happy union sabotaged, for the sake of his revenge and general mean spiritedness.

Shot during the twelve days in-between the filming and post-production of Whedon’s Marvel blockbuster, Ado is certainly a laid back affair, but it is still strikingly cinematic.  There might have been limited time for pre-production, but Whedon was fortunate to have a pretty polished script from William Shakespeare.  Maybe he found it on the “Black List.” Set entirely within Whedon’s real life home, designed by his architect wife and co-producer Kai Cole, this Ado updates the costumes and trappings to modern times, but wisely retains the Bard’s original language.  Essentially, Leonato and the Dons are politicians or gangsters.  Is there any difference between the two?  Either way, the wardrobe largely consists of dark suits, sun glasses, and ear pieces.

While Whedon’s modernization is a bit eccentric, Jay Hunter’s stylish black-and-white cinematography really helps sell it.  Frankly, Much Ado is one of Shakespeare’s most bullet-proof comedies, probably ranking just below Twelfth Night.  Nonetheless, Whedon’s game cast does not merely get by.  They have a genuine flair for the Shakespearean language.  Alexis Denisof and Amy Acker make a terrific Benedick and Beatrice. The audience will find themselves laughing at their zingers, which speaks volumes for their zesty delivery. 

Clark Gregg (the soon to be reincarnated SHIELD Agent Phil Coulson) also makes a solid Leonato, nicely conveying his mischievous and mature sides, while providing a familiar face for Whedon’s Marvel fans to latch onto.  Poor Hero is always the problematic part, but newcomer Jillian Morgese (an extra on The Avengers) gives her a bit of pluck and substance this time around.  As for good old Dogberry (here reinvented as the captain of the gated community’s rent-a-cops), Nathan Fillion truly hams it up, but that is exactly what he is supposed to do.

This is a genuinely entertaining movie that withstands comparison to Kenneth Branagh’s wonderfully elegant adaptation.  It is a different take, but the time-tested characters and text are the same, so it all works out quite swimmingly.  Recommended without reservation for fans of Shakespeare and Whedon, Much Ado About Nothing opens today (6/7) in New York at the Landmark Sunshine.

DWF ’13: Forever’s End

Is it the end of the world, or is it just Ohio?  Sarah White might be the last girl on Earth and the last man might have found his way to her doorstep.  Yet, that does not necessarily mean what you probably think in J.C. Schroder’s Forever’s End (trailer here), which screens tomorrow as part of Dances With Films.

White apparently survived a violent attack when the apocalypse broke out.  For the last six years, she has lived completely isolated in her family’s farmhouse, convinced she is Armageddon’s sole survivor.  When several stragglers mysteriously arrive in rapid succession, she is confused, frightened, and perhaps a little hopeful.  However, deciding who she should trust is difficult for the traumatized young woman.

Serious cult cinema connoisseurs will have a general idea where Forever is heading, but Schroder still keeps viewers wondering just how exactly the pieces will finally fit together.  The writer-director-editor-cinematographer establishes an eerie vibe that keeps viewers off-balance, getting a key assist from his Ohio and Kentucky locations, where the apocalypse could happen tomorrow, but you’d never notice. (FYI, I joke because I attended a Lutheran liberal arts college not far from where the film was shot.)

Charity Farrell’s Sarah White is convincingly vulnerable and emotionally troubled, but in an engaging rather than showy kind of way.  Lili Reinhart has the perfect look for her sisterly protector, projecting all kinds of menace and resentment.  Conversely, Warren Bryson’s understatement helps sell his character’s revelations.

A strange hybrid of apocalyptic cinema and the psychological thriller, Forever’s End is a fine example of how an evocative mood and rich mise-en-scène can fortify an inconsistent narrative.  Despite its challenging budget constraints, Forever’s End is an impressive looking production.  A promising first feature, it is worth checking out when it screens tomorrow (6/7) as part of the “Sweet Sixteen” Dances With Films, in Hollywood, California.

1 Mile Above: Tibet on Two Wheels

Tibet is not merely a destination, it is an experience.  Still, cycling across the country is taking matters to the extreme.  Taiwanese Zhang Shuhao is not the man to do it.  Yet, he has very personal reasons for biking from Lijiang to Lhasa in Du Jiayi’s 1 Mile Above (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

Zhang’s elder brother was the cyclist.  He is an amateur.  However, he resolves to make the trek his recently deceased brother had been training for.  Originally conceived as a tribute, it becomes a purification ritual and a struggle to survive.  Although some of the local guides try to take advantage of the fish out of water, he has the good fortune to fall in with Chuan.  The gruff mainlander is an experienced cyclist, who has made the grueling journey twice before.  He also has a keen appreciation of Tibetan culture, especially the cuisine.

Indeed, Mile is at its best when it celebrates the Tibetan people and culture, most definitely including Tibetan Buddhism.  As a narrative, Zhang Jialu & Cheng Hsiao-tse’s adaptation of Xie Wanglin’s memoir is fairly standard wilderness survival fare, even when circumstances force Zhang to carry on by himself.  Yet, there are a number a genuinely beautiful moments to be found along the way.  The scenes with a young Tibetan widow (sensitively portrayed by Li Tao) and her son are so honest and pure, they are guaranteed to choke viewers up.  Likewise, an encounter with a silent pilgrim on the road to Lhasa is unusually moving, because it expresses so much without words.

Du and cinematographer Du Jie find all the rough hewn beauty in the faces of hardscrabble Tibetans, while also duly basking in the grandeur of the Himalayas.  While the film glosses over many of the contemporary political and cultural challenges Tibetans face, it is still rather forthright regarding the region’s poverty.  Frankly, Mile would be a good candidate for the Rubin Museum’s first rate film program.

As Zhang, Bryan Chang is convincing enough in his physical scenes of exhaustion, dehydration, and desperation.  However, it is Li Xiaochaun who limns out the most fully developed character, with specific (but not excessively quirky) foibles.  Yet, it is Li Tao and several of her fellow Tibetan actors who will truly haunt audiences in a bittersweet kind of way.

1 Mile Above runs far deeper than its arresting scenery (which is spectacular, nonetheless).  This film will make viewers want to visit Tibet (unfortunately a rather tricky proposition)—and not to simply stare at mountain peaks.  Recommended quite highly for those who appreciate spiritually in-the-moment cinema, 1 Mile Above opens tomorrow (6/7) in New York, courtesy of Asia Releasing.