XXY

XXY

Directed by Lucia Puenzo

Argentina's submission for last year's Academy Awards graces this year's fest, and is a striking, thematically resonant first feature for director Puenzo. In this often gut-wrenching but ultimately sweet coming-of-age drama, a fifteen-year-old medical hermaphrodite named Alex (Ines Efron) struggles with intense feelings of alienation while also trying to weather the tide of her raging hormones and increasing sexual curiosity. This becomes especially trying when her parents - including her fiercely devoted father - invite a renowned surgeon and his troubled son Alvaro (Martin Piroyansky) to board with them, hoping to get a fresh (and clandestine) opinion on Alex's options. The bond formed between Alex and Alvaro is made compelling through their contrasting struggles with, respectively, difficult biology and emotionally abusive parents. When they come togather by the film's midsection, it's a moment both startling and tender. A gem.

* * * 1/2

Simon Howell

Another Gay Sequel

Another Gay Sequel

Directed by Clark Johnson

It must be said that I am emphatically not in this movie's target demographic - Johnson's series - and especially this second entry, which compltely eschews the American Pie-isms of the first - makes no attempt at concession to a wider ("non-gay") audience, nor does it need to do so in order to maintain its popularity. In fact, its complete immersion in gay signifiers both amusing (the many awkward sexual encounters its steadfast its protagonists suffer) and irritating (Perez Hilton) is its stock in trade. By the immortal measure of "doing hat it sets out to do" - in this case, to create a dayglo comedic universe to be enjoyed specifically by the gay community - Johnson's films must be considered successes.

(no rating)

La Léon

La Léon

Dorected by Stantiago Otheguy

Another Argentinian film to go with XXY, this one indebted to Terrence Malick's slow, contemplative style, while enjoying a stark sense of individuality derived from its authentic supporting cast and location. An abstracted tale of a repressive, quietly violent community that resides in Argentina's remote wetlands, Otheguy's directorial debut is presented in luminous, enveloping black-and-white, unapologetic in its use of long takes and quiet contemplation to create an all-encompassing pall of despair and dread. The use of real-life locals to make up the supporting cast adds to the feeling of otherwordliness as we witness their ceaseless routine - ride the titular boat down to the reeds, swing the machete, rinse and repeat. If you want to catch the particulars of its plot, you'll need a magnifying glass, and it moves at a pace that could be called "deliberate" at best, but the engrossing visuals and pervasive atmosphere make it an intriguing debut.

* * *

Simon Howell

Otto, Or Up With Dead People

Otto, Or Up With Dead People

Here is a movie that uses the zombie genre cliche has a flexible methaphor for aids and gay bashing, but also explores themes of schizophrenia. Bruce La Bruce`s films are always interesting and worth a look and Otto is no exception. His films dangle along the lines of smut, art, the underground and the indie scene and he remains a true disciple to Andy Warhol. If blood, gore and blowjobs can be stomached, I say give it a try. Taking from the pages of Vagabond, Cecil B. Dimented, My Own Private Idaho and Shadow of A Vampire, La Bruce delivers his most disciplined film in his oeuvre.

*** 1/2

Alex Ross

mulligans Mulligans

Mulligans

Directed by Chip Hale

2008

For a film that has one of the biggest budgets in this year's Image+Nation film festival, Mulligans sure does disappoint. A gay boy falls in love with his best friend's good looking dad who just so happens to be gay. Of course, the son and the mom both walk in on them in the act. What did you expect? Who locks doors anymore anyway, right?

The film exhibits a batch of deal-breaking irritants - among them, a deeply repetitive soundtrack, near-invisible character development and forced, unnatural writing. Many of the performances are rote and much of the dialogue is laughably silly. The only positive comment I can make is the choice of casting for the lead role; Charlie David is not only easy on the eyes but has a great screen presence. Hopefully for his sake (and ours) he will in future stick to acting, and not writing.

**

Alex Ross

The Lost Coast

The Lost Coast

Directed by Gabriel Flemming

2008

The Lost Coast begins with a lousy voice over to describe the events of a lousy Halloween night in which the narrator goes on to say how he discovered a dead body. The film has been described as "moody" and "dreamlike," but I would rather call it shoddy and forgettable.

The film's plot is centered around an e-mail that Jasper (Ian Scott McGregor) is writing to his fiancée overseas. The email explains what happened the previous night. We gather from his tone that the events were of some importance, but the film never convinces us to care. If you are interested in HandiCam moviemaking that seems to come directly out of a bad film school, then this film is for you. The sound appears to have been taken directly from the camera, and the cinematographer went missing. Even if you're able to deal with its Dogme 95-like like approach it still suffers from below-average performances and little character development. Thankfully the film is only 74 minutes long.

*

Alex Ross

The Blob (review)

THE BLOB (1958)
Dir: Irvin S. Yeaworth Jr.
Writers: Irvine Millgate, Theodore Simonson, Kay Linaker
Prod: Jack H. Harris
Starring Steven (Steve) McQueen and Aneta Corsaut
CRITERION DVD release #91
16X9 Anamorphic transfer in its original aspect ratio of 1.66:1
Let’s get straight to the meat and potatoes of this DVD; the digital transfer is unlike anything you’ve ever seen of this film before. The color just jumps out at you and the contrast in the night shots are just perfect and enhance the creepiness of the scenes.
It is one of the earlier Criterion DVD releases as you can see by the spine number of 91, and is just about the time they had started releasing their catalog titles with anamorphic enhancement which makes viewing this particular DVD on widescreen plasma/LCD such a treat.
The film is one of McQueen’s earliest headlining roles and you can clearly see in his performance shades of later mannerisms which would make him the coolest actor around in the 60’s and early 70’s; watch how he uses his eyes and breaks eye contact by looking down a lot (that particular detail would become his trademark in later films i.e. Bullitt, The Sand Pebbles and The Cincinnati Kid). His acting is a little over the top and doesn’t come across too well in the romantic bits, but he definitely shines over the other cast members. The flaw is to cast 30 year olds to play teenagers, it just makes it harder to believe and you shouldn’t have that issue in a Science-Fiction context where the nature of the material also has to be made believable for the story to work; the film can distract your attention because of this.
The story revolves around a shooting star that impacts near a mid-western American everytown, and unleashes an alien substance that will end up wreaking havoc in the city. The crash is witnessed by McQueen and his girlfriend (played by Aneta Corsaut) as they are romancing each other at “the point” (where 50’s teens and cars used to congregate in many Hollywood films of the 50”s). Thinking he knows where the rock crashed, McQueen heads out in the direction of the site.
A farmer discovers the rock and uses a stick to touch it, and it opens revealing a gelatinous mass inside which attaches itself to the stick defying gravity as it moves up and engulfs his hand; he screams in pain and runs amok among the trees and winds up almost being hit by McQueen’s car. The “kids” bring the farmer to the local doctor who tries to examine him and now we see the mass has grown larger and now covers the farmer’s whole arm. The main plot point is established right there, the thing feeds on human flesh and is getting larger as it ingests more victims, and if it is not stopped it will cover the town.
Once that point is established, it remains for the “teens” to wake up the town to the danger facing them and as this a 50’s film, the adults are hard to convince. The film becomes a typical exploitation rebellious teen story from then on as the kids create a loud commotion to wake up the adults in order to gather them all to McQueen’s fathers’ convenience store. The police, firefighters and townspeople al show up and believe the whole story to be a prank until “the blob” invades a local theatre showing a horror film double-bill sending the patrons screaming for their lives out onto the street.
Now convinced, the authorities take over the situation to restore calm and devise a plan to destroy the alien. McQueen discovers the creature is allergic to cold, so the teens led by the prim and sexually repressed school principal rush to the high school to gather as many Co2 fire extinguishers as they can carry; finding the doors locked, the principal (with utmost repugnance) breaks the window with a rock, and the teens cheer him on. He has committed the ultimate act of defiance of the time, breaking a school window; little did the nation know then that worst civil unrest was just around the corner outside their living rooms.
The blob is frozen and dumped in the Artic where it will remain frozen for ever?????
The story moves fast and is never boring to watch; it’s classic sci-fi still enjoyable to watch in late night TV land (make it a 42 inch Plasma).
The print shows very little damage, just a few speckles at the edges of the frame in a few scenes. There is no discernable digital artefacting that distracts the eye, however I’m inclined to believe there was a bit of image boosting and edge enhancement employed in the transfer. There are 2 excellent commentary tracts, one by producer Jack Harris and film historian Bruce Eder which is really great, it covers most aspects of the production and his memories of working with McQueen (which proved to be very difficult indeed); one of the better commentaries I’ve heard a producer give regarding a film. The second track is with the director Yeaworth and actor Tony Fields which is OK, but not as entertaining as Harris. There is an image gallery that collects photos and blob paraphernalia from a private collection owned by Wes Shank, and the original theatrical trailer; there is no making of included.
Fantastic to see Criterion restoring a “B” film like “The Blob” as if they were working on an Ingmar Bergman DVD. It would not end there for “B” films and Criterion as they recently released another such film, “Robinson Crusoe on Mars” directed by Byron Haskin to be reviewed soon, till then pick up this disc before it goes out-of-print as such Criterion titles have a tendency to do, and happy meteor hunting!
Mark Penny

The Descendant

The Descendant

Philippe Spurrell’s feature debut is an intriguing story revolving around a small community, and its shared secret past history, and how an outsider pushes those secrets to the surface for all to see.

Since the film does rely on the element of surprise for it to work as a mystery, I will not be too explicit on the story itself, but will concentrate on the crafting of the film.

I saw the film digitally projected in a setting that did not in any way detract from the lush images on the screen. Mr. Spurrell was available for a short Q and A after the show, and explained that due to financial reasons up to this point, he could not produce a sub-titled 35mm print to exhibit yet; although I hope that with increasing interest in the film by Quebec historical scholars as well as film critics and/or professors, that situation will lead to an influx of extra funds required for this to be remedied soon.

The story begins in Montreal with the main protagonist, James, finding a few details of his past via an old shoebox, left to him by his mother, full of old photographs and birthday cards from his grand-parents whom he had no contact with since he was 3 years old. His partner, Kim, suggests that he should go and visit them to re-establish contact with his past, and possibly find answers to the reasons his mother exiled herself from her family.

When James reaches the small isolated community of St-Harmonie, Quebec, he finds himself warmly welcomed by an old friend of his Mother’s, but looked on with suspicion by others in the local bar.

James meets up with his Grand-Parents at their farm, and intends to stay for a few days. He proceeds to unearth stories about his Mother’s past, and finds deep secrets that the community collectively keeps buried deep in their history.

The film makes for a very good mystery, and succeeds on many other levels as well; but to reveal those would be to give too much away.

The cinematography by Lorenzo Negri and Ivan Gekoff (CSC) is quite sumptuous and serves the story well. The muted colours and close attention to the surface details and textures of the surroundings is very reminiscent of Kim Ki-Duk’s “The Isle” (the look of the farmhouse and the wood specifically).

The art direction, the costumes that were created for the inhabitants of the little community (literally transports the viewer in a past era; trucks and vehicles being the only details of a vague contemporary setting once James is at the farm.

There are fabulous shots over the farm’s windswept cornfields that beg the question of how they were achieved with such a small budget (I did not want to ask the question of how they did it in order to maintain the illusion in my mind).

The actors delivered very convincing performances that at first glance appear off-kilter, but as the film progresses, you realize how true they are for the characters involved; I would say almost Lynchian in subtlety (specially the grand-father played by Jim Reid).

The sound design by Dan Lagacé and music by David Kristian are absolutely outstanding; he does not overwhelm you with recognizable themes, and the background sound effects are so subtle that they induce the mohawk effect (as one of “The Exorcist”’s sound designers was referring to his own sound work was meant to achieve in that film); the hair at the back of the neck definitely rises.

For a film that was shot over the span of 5 years on a shoestring budget, the continuity is spot on and doesn’t betray the lack of funds.

Philippe Spurrell has really achieved a great deal with this film which is garnering interest across a broad spectrum of History and Film scholars, and the public at large.

The story explores a little known part of our local history, and makes a strong case for re-examining it in greater detail so that future generations realize how similar we (as a nation) were to our American neighbors.

The filmmakers should congratulate themselves on a job exceedingly well done.

I strongly urge the public to go and see this film wherever possible; one of the best Quebec English Canadian films (yes they are distinct from the rest of English Canadian films) I’ve seen in a long while.

Mark Penny

Production Team

Executive Producer: PHILIPPE CHABOT
Co-producer: DAVID RIGBY
Producer/Director: PHILIPPE SPURRELL
Written by : PHILIPPE SPURRELL & JOEL MILLER
Cinematography: LORENZO NEGRI & IVAN GEKOFF (CSC)
Editor: ERIC LAVOIE
Music: DAVID KRISTIAN
Sound design: DAN LAGACE
Make-up FX: CJ GOLDMAN, (DAWN OF THE DEAD, DAY AFTER TOMORROW, LUCKY NUMBER SLEVIN)
Special Participation: SERGIO MACHADO

Entre Les Murs

Entre les Murs [The Class] (dir. Laurence Cantet)

* * 1/2

Hey, have you seen the fourth season of The Wire? If you have, there's nothing for you here. Laurence Cantet's Palme D'Or winner is unfailingly realistic, yes, but seems reluctant to draw in the viewer as thoroughly as it should. It could pass as a documentary, certainly, but that wouldn't have made it a better film. As it follows the life of a homeroom class in inner-city Paris over the course of a scholastic year, and we find ourselves engaging with the often distanced personalities of the students, there's a nagging sensation that there should be an added layer of subtext to be found - yet there's little to be derived from the old process of trying to turn "animals" into reasonable young people. The presentation is novel, but the content is too familiar by half.

Synecdoche, New York

Synecdoche, New York
Directed by Charlie Kaufman

Perhaps the apt comparison to make is not to Fellini's 8 1/2, as a few have been in a mad dash to do. It's actually only necessary to turn the clock back a couple of years in order to find an appropriate bedfellow for superstar screenwriter Charlie Kaufman's debut film as a director; it's Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain. In both cases, a much-lauded and fairly young talent received more or less free reign to explore an original concept and run wild with every last impulse - in the case of The Fountain, the results were divisive at best, and disastrous in many circles. You can expect a similarly mixed reception for Synecdoche, New York, a film so incredibly overstuffed with ideas and allusions that many will be tempted to give up on it before the last reel.

Before they do, however, they'll have ushered in one of the most audacious sights and concepts to appear in an American film in some time. At their center is Philip Seymour Hoffman's Caden Cotard, a successful playwright who's received a "Genius Grant" in order to fund a project of his choosing. He decides to mount a massive-scale production that will incorporate all of the players in his life - all of whom happen to be women. (Hence the 8 1/2 fixation.) These women, and their theatrical representations, are tackled by one of the most prestigious female casts in recent memory: Catherine Keener, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Michelle Williams, Samantha Morton, Hope Davis and Emily Watson. They work to embody Cotard's muse in its many forms, and as such their roles aren't always particularly plum (particularly for Williams, whose actress character is particularly petulant), but as an ensemble foil to Hoffman's often (deliberately) insufferable Cotard, they do wonderful work.

Synecdoche is predominantly concerned with suffering and death, and as such will leave many audiences feeling vaguely annoyed at having been subjected to such a deeply depression experience. Cotard constantly suffers from mystery ailments, and time seems to collapse in on itself, with characters (and their surrogates) dying, being married and having children in seemingly short periods of time, while Cotard's ever-expanding production - eventually including a life-size replica of Schenectady, in which the film is set - takes decades to become realized. Similarly, Synecdoche rolls back in on itself numerous times, repeating many scenes with different performers. Hoffman is more than capable of keeping the film grounded throughout these sequences, even as the film itself seems to grow tired of its endless machinations within machinations.

Ultimately, however, the clockwork has to come to an end, and when it does, audiences will either feel a sense of bemused relief, or find themselves moved. I found myself somewhere in between, but I'm nevertheless anxious to delve back into its intricately annoying and delicate ways in a few months' time.

Simon Howell

Wendy and Lucy

Wendy and Lucy (dir. Kelly Reichardt)

* * *

A girl and her dog find themselves stranded on their way to a better life Kelly Reichardt's follow-up to her warmly received Old Joy. Michelle Williams stars as Wendy, a luckless drifter looking to find work in Alaska, and Lucy (the director's dog, which also appeared in Old Joy) is her faithful canine companion. when Wendy's car breaks down, she finds herself stranded in a nowhere town in Oregon. Reichardt favors simple, unadorned storytelling, and here she chronicles Wendy's mounting troubles in an unhurried and level-headed way - there's no room for Von Trier-ian histronics, just the plain fact of a life lived on the ever-furthering margins. Williams keeps things close to the hilt, only letting us in at key moments - a confrontation with a stranger, and an act of touching sacrifice. As we hear a predictable new round of hyperbole about the coming of new New Deal in American society, cinematic representations of such bleak struggles become increasingly relevant. Modest, and a success.

Surveillance

Surveillance (dir. Jennifer Chambers Lynch)

* * *

Reviled by critics expecting something a little more, well, Lynchian, Surveillance has more in common with Verhoeven or Cronenberg than with her father's considerably more obtuse output. Instead, it's a darkly comic thriller with an erotic bent where every killing is a punchline and every characterization is over-the-top. Bill Pullman and Julia Ormond star as a pair of eccentric detectives looking into a series of murders by separately interviewing the people who crossed paths with the killers - including a family of four, two crooked cops, and a coked-out couple. Lynch has her eye on pure pulp entertainment here, and she delivers in spades - even when depicting scenes of intense brutality, there's a detached sense of levity to much of the film. The "twist" that seems to be required in such films is hardly a surprise, and doesn't feel meant to be. If you're looking for Lost Highway you'll find yourself disappointed, but fans of colorful, entertaining thrillers should find themselves right at home.

Zack & Miri Make a Porno (review)

Zack & Miri Make a Porno

Directed by Kevin Smith

Kevin Smith's debut feature, Clerks, was a potty-mouthed revelation when it came out fourteen years ago. But in the intervening years of Judd Apatow, South Park and American Pie, what was once an outrageous breath of fresh air has quickly come quotidian. And so the question becomes: does Smith as a director try to raise the bar in filthy comedy, or move on to different, more "mature" pastures. The answer is a bit of both.

Smith's latest film, Zack and Miri Make a Porno, tells the story of two platonic best friends, Zack (Seth Rogen) and Miri (Elizabeth Banks) who live together in suburban Pittsburgh. Best friends since grade school, their friendship seems to be based largely on the fact that they are such total social misfits that they are the only two people who can stand each other. And like most lost, late 20 something souls, they are both pathetically bad with money, leading to mountings bills and the constant threat of eviction or the shutting off of utilities.

After particularly embarrassing themselves at their ten year high school reunion, the two friends return home to find that in fact, their power and heat have finally been shut off. Desperate and despondent they hole up in their local bar to try to brainstorm a way out of their dire financial straights. The usually unambitious Zack, inspired by a chance encounter with gay porn star (a particularly funny cameo by Justin Long) Brandon, somehow manages to convince Miri that the answer to their problems is to make and sell an adult film that they themselves will star in.

The plot then turns into a sort of Andy Hardy style "let's put on a show" story, with Zack and Miri assembling a rag-tag crew to help them in with their lofty and looney plan. In a lot of ways this is where the film really starts to shine as one of Smith's definite strong points is his ability to gather together comedic talent and the cast contains more than a few treats for both film nerds and fans of Smith's films in particular.

View Askew standbys Jason Mewes (Jay) and Jeff Anderson (Randal) make appearances as a porno stud and cameraman respectively, the notorious Traci Lords stars as the matronly Bubbles, while contemporary porn star Katie Morgan shows considerable comedy chops as the ditzy Stacy and Craig Robinson practically steals the show as Zack's coworker/producer, Delaney. Notable cameos include effects whiz (and Pittsburgh native) Tom Savini as a shady garage owner, Superman Brandon Ruth as a deeply closeted former high school hottie and Canada's own Kenny Hotz of Kenny Vs. Spenny fame as the deeply annoying Zack II.

Despite all the bare boobies (there are plenty) and a little bush, make no mistake: this is a romantic comedy, with the real dilemma being how Zack and Miri's friendship will survive their on screen carnal encounter. And while it is easy to dismiss both Smith and Rogen as belonging to some sort of man-boy chauvinist’s club, the drama of the film really comes from Smith's exploration of the differences between the sexes. While Rogen is basically playing a slightly more eloquent version of his Knocked Up persona, Smith smartly puts his focus on Bank's Miri, who turns in a touching and relatable performance as a sensitive but unconventional girl trying to protect herself from yet another heartbreak.

However, like most films in this genre, the central love story does require quite a bit of suspension of disbelief in order to play out. The idea that a shlub like Zack would not have already slept with someone as hot as Miri (or at least made a serious attempt) is particularly hard to swallow, as is the reason these two losers still hang out together. But film is fantasy, and if you are able to let these two minor details slide, the inevitable conclusion does contain some of Smith's most genuine and touching dialogue about love since Chasing Amy.

The biggest problem with the film is more that the conclusion really is telegraphed too far in advance, particularly if you are familiar with Smith's brand of vulgar romanticism; and the overuse of the "misfits make good" plotline. But, as was pointed out earlier, this is a romantic comedy and these types of films rely on formula, even if the formula in this case happens to include shit-showers and strap-ons. The central characters also feel somewhat underdeveloped, but the performances and charm displayed by Rogen and Banks mostly make up for this.

While far from Smith's best (that would be Chasing Amy), Zack and Miri Make a Porno is a far sight better than Jersey Girl, and should appeal to both View Askew fans and girls who think that testicle jokes are funny. And you get to see Jason Mewes' penis, if you're into that sort of thing.

Mariko McDonald

The Good, The Bad, The Weird

The Good, The Bad, The Weird

Director Kim Jo-Woon (Tale of Two Sisters) brings the biggest and most expensive Korean film to date. This isn’t surprising considering its ingenious special effects, massive chase sequences and non stop acting from start to finish. Unapologetic, over the top, absorb and it never give you more than a minute to breathe without hammering in enough violence and action to have you grinning from ear to ear. Kim Jo- Woon brings a mash up of Spaghetti Westerns, Mad Max with the touch of John Woo direction. If you’re a fan of classic western stand offs, Kung Fu wire work, and some great comedy, this is for you.

Man On Wire

Man On Wire (dir. James Marsh)

* * * 1/2

Through an artful blend of staged reenactments and archival footage, James Marsh has assembled a compelling look at Philippe Petit, a mischievous high-wire artist who performed a series of breathtaking wire walks, culminating in his walk between the two towers of the World Trade Center in 1974. Much of the film is focused on the mechanics of pulling off the stunt - an act compared to an elaborate bank heist, complete with a motley crew of like-minded conspirators. The film gets a lot of deserving traction out of the idea that it is necessary to circumvent society to create true moments of beauty. Petit's work is indeed beautiful - only a hardened cynic could look upon his midair grace and not be moved - but Marsh doesn't idealize his subject, refusing to gloss over a key moment of betrayal that is at once tragically in-character and completely callous. As it turns out, however, Petit's art is far larger than his hubris, and we can only delight in witnessing his accomplishments.

Detroit Metal City

Detroit Metal City

Based on the Japanese manga come the first time feature from director Toshiro Lee. DMC follows Negishi Soichi a small town farm boy who makes his way to Tokyo for the first time with dreams of becoming a trendy pop star. While attending University, he joins the songwriter’s club and practices his acoustical set, but fails to make any career within that genre. Flash forward a few years and Negishi finds musical success in the metal band DMC where he takes on the persona of Sir Krauser and is viewed upon as a Metal God. The only problem is Negishi secretly hates metal music and tries t break free from his monstrous identity.

Teen Icon Ken`Ichi Matsuyama plays double roles as the painfully nerdy Negishi and the outrageous and offensive Krauser. Watching his performance in juggling the two indemnities is worth the price of admission alone. However audiences will find themselves just as pleased with the soundtrack, supporting roles and physical comedy gags.

JCVD

JCVD (dir. Mabrouk El Mechri)

* * * 1/2

One of the year's most bracing films, Mabrourk El Mechri dark comedy JCVD is likely to divide audiences and critics with its intensely post-modern approach and love-it-or-hate-it commentary on fame, self-worth and pectoral muscles. JCVD stands for the film's star, Jean-Claude Van Damme, and the film follows a fictionalized version of Van Damme as he dredges his way through a dreary existence based loosely on the star's real life. His finances are in ruins (Steven Seagal has cut off his ponytail to steal a role from under his nose), his young daughter provides damning testimony at a custody hearing, and his years as an action star are taking a toll on his dignity and health. When he needs an emergency influx of cash to pay his legal bills, he finds himself caught in a very Dog Day Afternoon-esque heist at a post office. (One goon's similarity to John Cazale can't be accidental.) Forget Pascal Laugier's arty gore flick - Van Damme is the year's true martyr, wilfully and explicitly setting afire his scores of two-dimensional action films and delivering a vulnerable (though admittedly limited) performance as a man tired of playing hero when he feels like a failure. The litmus test for many viewers will be the dramatic moment in which Van Damme obliterates the fourth wall (and the ceiling) to discuss the nature of celebrity, his feelings of inadequacy as a human being, and the nature of the very film you're watching. Some will feel used and preached to. I, for one, was touched, and when Van Damme's eyes welled up, I must admit that mine did the same.

Adoration

Adoration (dir. Atom Egoyan)

* * * 1/2

After a string of critical flops, Atom Egoyan is back in a big way with the rich and vibrant Adoration, a complex portrait of teenhood, grief and simmering sociopolitical tension. Smart but oddball teen Simon (Devon Bostick) makes an unusual association while translating an article regarding Israeli airport security for an assignment from his French teacher Sabine (Arsinée Khanjian) - he envisions himself as the unborn baby kept in the womb of a woman carrying a bomb intended to obliterate a plane. In this new context, the woman is innocent, the explosive having been planted by the woman's husband - the unborn "Simon"'s father. As Simon works through the real-life family tragedy that informed the association, he also inadvertently stirs up a heated debate on the nature of victimhood and the wider ramifications of terrorism. Egoyan's ear for dialogue is impeccable, the performances are first-rate (particularly Bostick and Scott Speedmann as Simon's withdrawn but stalwart uncle) and, most importantly, the film is smart enough to evoke a potent mix of issues and emotional responses without pretending it holds the solutions to the complexities at hand.

881

881 (dir. Royston Tan)

* *

Sometimes delivering on the language held in press materials isn't actually a good thing. Described as a juxtaposition of Moulin Rouge and Lars von Trier's Dancer in the Dark, 881 works mostly as a showcase for some extravagant costume design and the occasional memorable tune. Taking place during the seventh month of the Chinese calendar, in which the spirits of the dead are said to emerge in the streets, 881 works more efficiently as a window into Singaporean social mores than as a coherent statement. In a state infamous for its repression of free speech and creative _expression, the Getai singers (competitive groups who face off in singing contests in the seventh month), with their outlandish costumes and often suggestive dance moves, seem to stand in for the wilder elements of society the state won't ultimately tolerate. After all, behind every flashy dance sequence there's the lingering threat of seperation or death if either of the principal demale characters enjoys "the touch of a man," and indeed, one of them is ultimately punished. Director Tan, previously a victim of the Singapore film board's strict censorship laws, uses an expressive visual palette, but the happy-go-lucky nature of the performances - as well as the largely comic nature of most of the film's dialogue - simply don't mesh with its numerous attempts at pathos (largely through the belabored use of cancer-derived imagery).

Let The Right One In

Let The Right One In

Thomas Alfredson

Sweden, 2008

Let the Right One In, also known as Let Me in, refers to an occult rule that a vampire apparently cannot enter someone’s house without an invite. Based on the bestselling children’s novel from John Ajvide Lindqvist, the movie is a Swedish twist on a vampire story.

The story follows 12-year-old Oskar a timid and introverted boy who finds himself the victim of high school bullies. Spending most of his days alone his imagination goes into overtime and Oskar begins to put together a notebook of newspaper clippings related to a string of local murders. One night he meets and befriends a mysterious girl, Eli, who has just moved in next door. Eli is a 200 year old vampire girl frequently forced to feed on the blood of innocents to stay alive. The two are drawn to each other for similar but different reasons. The children form a bond which transcends friendship and sexuality and Eli helps Oskar to stand up to his bullies while Oskar discovers love for the very first time.

The film may comes across has just another teen horror flick but it is much more than that. In fact I would go so far as calling this a modern day masterpiece. Swedish director Thomas Alfredson takes a fresh approach at the tired old vampire myth and uses the blood thirst as a richly layered theme of pre-adolescent lust, sexual experimentation and social alienation. It still follows the classic rules of the vampire mythology but twists each in new and clever way. Writer John Ajvide Lindqvist, responsible for both the book and screenplay mixes in the horror genre with a coming-of-age tale and a mysterious love story that explores the darker side of alienation. It’s dreamlike, hypnotic, horrific, poetic and a fine example of great film making.

The film starts deliberately slow, building up its pace accompanied by its moody score, and at times effective silence. The cinematography is stunning and makes great use of its outdoor winter shots. The handful of special effects sequences are inventively staged for maximum effect and while although the scares are few, when needed the violence is brutal and unforgiving. All this and did I forget to mention that it’s chilling ending, is one of the best endings I’ve seen in years.

Extraordinary performances, flawless scripting, stunning cinematography and one of the greatest directorial debuts in the last thirty years. Truly iconic, unforgettable and comes with the highest possible recommendation on my part. It is an instant classic. The winner of the Award for Best Narrative Feature at both the Tribeca and Fantasia film festival this year, JJ Abrams is currently seeking out the rights to a US remake. In the mean time I hope it finds its ways into more North American theatres and homes.

Listen to episode 43 for a more in depth review

Martyrs

1. 

Martyrs (dir. Pascal Laugier)

*

Supposedly the latest and greatest in the new wave of French horror (see also: Ils, Haute Tension, Frontiers, A L'Intérieur), Martyrs is in fact more of a masturbatory art project for perpetual 16-year-olds than anything resembling a coherent thriller. Structured (intentionally or otherwise) like an especially dire three-act play, opening with a gratuitously gruesome act of revenge, followed by a suspense-free "horror" segment that relies on a character's inner demons to attempt to procure scares (it doesn't work), and capped off with a half-hour of repetitious torture and ultimately one of the shallowest excuses for social commentary this reviewer has witnessed in ages in the form of a particularly wretch-inducing act of mutilation. Laugier would like to address worthwhile themes - that of women as the greatest historical victims of religious opportunism and of the search for contemporary proof of divinity - but those themes aren't really present in the film itself except as psychobabble to pad out the running length between bloody showcases. There might have been some legitimate thematic friction at work if Laugier had opted to make anything of his two female protagonists besides featureless victims - one abused since childhood, the other blandly compelled to follow - but instead they exist simply as objects to get kicked around. Laugier continues the trend inherent in Haute Tension of involving women's issues - there, in the form of female desire, and here, in the form of religious exploitation - only to exploit them as a hollow plot machination.

Blindness (review)

Blindness
Directed by Fernando Meirelles

Reportedly retooled since its less-than-stellar debut at Cannes, Fernando Meirelles' third feature is both his loftiest and most intimate. Based on José Saramago's acclaimed novel of the same name (unread by me), Blindness is a film it's impossible to be ambivalent about - Meirelles, along with screenwriter Don McKellar (Last Night, The Red Violin) have constructed a film that is by turns maddening, provocative and confounding in its construction.

When the population becomes stricken with the "white illness," a disease that turns its victims blind - capable of seeing only blank whiteness - they are forcibly quarantined and kept in facilities where they are forced to fend for themselves. One inhabitant, however (Julianne Moore), appears to be immune to the disease - a secret she keeps to herself and her husband, an optometrist (Mark Ruffalo).
Also in the building: a high-end prostitute (Alice Braga), a thief (McKellar), a bartender with a vicious streak (Gael Garcia Bernal, playing sharply against type), and an older man who was blind before the disease came (Danny Glover, forced to tread into Wise Negro territory with some ill-advised, but thankfully intermittent, narration).

The film's first act is a complete mess, with many of the initial scenes involving the characters first turning blind inciting guffaws than was certainly intended, and at disastrously distracting cameo by Sandra Oh as a global leader...of some sort. Once we arrive in the compound, however, the film finds a sickening groove as conditions worsen and quickly turn desperate. A sequence involving prostitution for food is dizzying in its torment but artfully staged, all stage-darkness and single-file degradation. Most importantly, the film works hard to retain its characters' dignity in the face of mounting desperation - even as characters slip on fecal matter and fellate tyrants, there's never a sense that they're doing any less than what's necessary to survive, and as such we never lack sympathy, although we might wish someone would just put them out of their misery.

Meirelles, along with his usual cinematographer César Charlone, opted to depict its titular symptom as literally as possible, filling the film with bright whites and deep blacks as long and as frequently as possible. While the approach works in some respects - it's certainly disorienting, and works by proxy to highlight its' stars every pore and bead of sweat as they strain to survive - but its most lasting effect is just that it hurts your eyes. (It's like the My Bloody Valentine reunion tour, only you bring sunglasses instead of earplugs.) Many will be unable to accept that approach, as well as the almost blatantly allegorical nature of the plot, but I for one found it to be stirring rather than didactic, evoking the best and worst in human impulses, and doing justice to the extremities of both.

Simon Howell

Apaloosa (review)

Apaloosa
Directed by Ed Harris

Every resurgent genre needs a set of pale imitators to go with its breakthroughs, and to that end we have Apaloosa, a staunchly traditional Western helmed by Ed Harris, who also co-stars and co-wrote the film's screenplay. That means he's partially to blame for the film's greatest setback: its unimaginative plot and lazy characterization.

Harris and Viggo Mortensen play a two-man peacekeeping force operating in New Mexico territory in the mid-1800s. They help stabilize budding towns by becoming the town's legal enforcers, then move on when there's no more money to be made. They arrive in the eponymous town seeking to contain a fast-drawing hoodlum (Jeremy Irons) who's wanted for multiple murders. Things get complicated - in the most contrived possible fashion - when a lonely widow (Renee Zellweger) arrives and pais up with Harris' grizzled gunslinger, despite his protestations that "feelings get you killed."

The screenplay's problems are legion, and most involve a lack of dramatic exploitation. There's always fun to be had when you've got Irons in a fiendish capacity, but he's not given anything to work with beyond a capacity for a quick draw and a few dry quips. There's potential in the idea of these roving "peacekeepers" and the ways in which they establish and enforce laws of their choosing, but that dimension lays unexplored. Most egregiously of all, however, is the inclusion of Zellweger's character Ally - one of the least useful love interests in recent memory. She pouts and philanders seemingly without motive or method beyond the idea that she simply goes for the alpha dog - even by Western standards it's a ridiculously misogynistic character, and Zellweger is stuck grimacing her way through it. A major disappointment.

Simon Howell

The Tiger`s Tail

The Tiger`s Tail (John Boorman)

* 1/2

A hybrid made up of so many constituent parts as to render the whole ineffectual. Stalwart Irish character actor Brendan Gleeson stars as a contented, wealthy real estate developer keen to give Ireland its first proper football stadium. There is lingering opposition to the project, given the increasingly desperate plight of the poor in Ireland and the lack of affordable housing. Gleeson's life gets derailed when his "doppelganger" arrives, a man of his exact likeness who follows him around and taunts him relentlessly. After some intriguing early scenes, the film loses steam quickly when it becomes apparent that this figure is not, in fact, a hallucination, but instead that most treasured of soap opera conventions, the long-lost twin. Nevermind that the underlying facts we must accept about the manner in which the "evil" twin was cast aside are contrived at best. There are bigger problems to deal with, anyway - mostly involving the hamfisted attempts at political commentary that are intermittently - and inappropriately - shoehorned into what amounts to something very nearly approaching a shaggy dog story. Meant to be an elaborate parable about the scocio-economic divide in Ireland, it might have worked as satire, but takes its ludicrous plot machinations far too seriously. And it must be said - Kim Cattrall as trophy wife we can believe, but as Irishwoman?

She's a Boy I Knew

She's a Boy I Knew (dir. Gwen Haworth)

* * *

After a shaky start, She's a Boy I Knew emerges as a keenly felt doc on the consequences of replacing one person with another. Director Haworth charts her progress from her life as a handsome young man named Steve to her new life as Gwen by interviewing those closest to her at length. The first twenty minutes are messy, with Haworth's narration feeling overly present, suffocating the opinions of her external subjects. Over time, however, her grip loosens, and the film explores tricky emotional ground, particularly when we spend time with Malgosia, Gwen's beguiling ex-wife, who admits both her initial anger towards Gwen (then Stephen) for her decision, and later confesses her diminishing sexual interest, finding herself unable to convince herself of the "superficiality" of Gwen's changing body in the face of the still-present "essence" of the person she loves. There's also a lingering sense of heartbreak in scenes with Gwen's tight-lipped Mountie father, who looks for clues in his parentage as to how his son may have gone "astray" - yet simultaneously recognizes something in Gwen that he himself withheld in his youth. Through it all, Haworth exhibits a sense of inclusiveness, fleshing out their histories as well as her own, always seeking to empathize even when there is a lack of mutual understanding. I could have done without the animated segments, but they're brief, and are made up for with the inclusion of some surprisingly frank images of Gwen's post-op transformations - an important inclusion, reminding us that the ignominy that may come with her emerged gender awareness is hardly the only trial she faces.

Man On Wire

Man On Wire (dir. James Marsh)

* * * 1/2

Through an artful blend of staged reenactments and archival footage, James Marsh has assembled a compelling look at Philippe Petit, a mischievous high-wire artist who performed a series of breathtaking wire walks, culminating in his walk between the two towers of the World Trade Center in 1974. Much of the film is focused on the mechanics of pulling off the stunt - an act compared to an elaborate bank heist, complete with a motley crew of like-minded conspirators. The film gets a lot of deserving traction out of the idea that it is necessary to circumvent society to create true moments of beauty. Petit's work is indeed beautiful - only a hardened cynic could look upon his midair grace and not be moved - but Marsh doesn't idealize his subject, refusing to gloss over a key moment of betrayal that is at once tragically in-character and completely callous. As it turns out, however, Petit's art is far larger than his hubris, and we can only delight in witnessing his accomplishments.

Choke

Choke

Clark Gregg

U.S.A. , 2008

Actor-turned-director Clark Gregg hopes he is as adept behind the camera as in front of it with Choke, a dark comedy about a mother and son and about sexual compulsion.

Victor Mancini (Sam Rockwell) is a sex-addicted med-school dropout who keeps his increasingly deranged mother, Ida (Angelica Houston) in an expensive private mental hospital. At night he runs a scam where he deliberately chokes himself in upscale restaurants to form relationships with the wealthy patrons who "save" him via the Heimlich maneuver.

During the turning point of the film in a rare lucid moment, Ida reveals that she has withheld the shocking truth of Victor's father's identity. Victor must enlist the aid of his best friend, Denny, a recovering chronic masturbator, and his mother's beautiful attending physician, Dr. Paige Marshall, to solve this mystery before the truth of his possibly divine parentage is lost forever.

As opposed to most dark comedies that have a sustained tone, Director Clark Gregg found Choke to be more tonally complex, and said that he wanted it to veer between "extremely dramatic moments" and "absurdly silly ones". The director sought to find a way to combine the two elements, drawing inspiration from such films as Harold and Maude, Being There, Secretary and finally Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. However unlike all four of these films, all of which are considered breakthroughs, Choke is not an easy film to swallow.

To put it simply Choke is disappointing not so much for what it was but more so for it's failure to be all it could. The film at times is funny and it has it's moments but it seems that the director just didn't have the balls to go all out and make it as dark as it should have been. This film suffers greatly from it's problems with pacing and little sense of forward momentum. The pacing is completely off and at times feels as if the motion in this motion picture is dying down much like a music cassette whose reel has been caught in the tape recorder and is slowly being chewed apart. His unstable direction made it unclear as to how I should to feel while watching the film. Director Clark Gregg has all the pieces in the puzzle in front of him but unfortunately he fails to put the puzzle together. Gregg's unstable direction makes it clear he was indecisive as to what sort of film he was trying to make and worse makes it unclear as to what I should feel while watching it.

Individual scenes go on way too long and are quite repetitive. At times a good twenty minutes could pass without the story evolving and when it finally does unravel, everything comes crashing down in just a few minutes.

Maybe this stuff works in the pages in the novel, but Choke is awfully tough to digest on the screen. It's a seriously over cluttered movie with nothing much to look at. He fails to cut down on the subplots and focus on the major theme at play and as a director he has no vision nor an eye for the camera.

Jimmy Dean

Eagle Eye

Eagle Eye
Directed by D.J. Caruso

Like the mutant offspring of Michaels Bay and Mann, D.J. Caruso fancies himself both a master of pyrotechnics and a crafter of thinking man's thrillers. Unfortunately, his actual levels of focus and craft are strictly on the level of the former, no matter how much he tries to convince us otherwise. with Eagle Eye, he once again (after the dreadful underworld "drama" The Salton Sea and blockbuster Rear Window update Disturbia) tries to have it both ways, and in this case he falls short in spectacular fashion, flailing and simply failing in equal measure.

A hopped-up hybrid of a dozen movies you've seen before, and ending up in a place that can only be described as 2001 meets 24 (2025?), Eagle Eye starts with a surprisingly unnerving, if typically glossed-over, scene in which an American helicopter blows up an entire Iraqi funeral due to the suspected but unconfirmed presence of a sought-out terrorist leader. We then cut to the U.S., where perennial underachiever Jerry Shaw (Shia LaBeouf) is mourning the death of his Air Force-trained twin brother in a car accident, and single mother Rachel (Michelle Monaghan) is preparing to send her young son off to Washington to perform at a government recital. They then both receive strict instructional phone calls from a mysterious and unseen presence, coercing them to trek out on a mission of indeterminate aim. Jerry is framed as a terror suspect and Rachel's son is apparently placed in harm's way, limiting their options to a laughable, videogame-like degree.

Eagle Eye isn't the worst movie I've seen this year, but it might be the most insulting - not only to its audience, but to its actors as well. LaBeouf, growing a little more likeable with each passing performance, gets a lot of traction with his honed sad-puppy droop and half-hinged glare. Monaghan, a very talented actress quite used to being shouldered with thankless roles (The Heartbreak Kid, Made of Honor), gets to inhabit a trite role (hard-working, put-upon single mom with a single-minded, selfless devotion towards her child) with a palpable sense of desperation, and together they make for a compelling pair when they share screen time and actually get to interact. That accounts for roughly a tenth of the film. The capable supporting cast (Billy Bob Thornton, Rosario Dawson, Michael Chiklis) is made useless through pointless, talking-head roles that serve little to no purpose. Particularly puzzling is the casting of Chiklis as the Secretary of Defense - why bother casting someone with such an imposing physical presence as a suit?

Make no mistake, though, the movie does insult the audience too. We're asked to swallow one ridiculous premise after another, even as the movie's tone turns increasingly preachy and self-serious as the "motives" of the "force" at work are made clear and the plot threads - along with any semblance of logic - are not only let go but placed in a box and set on fire. Worse yet, the preachiness (a lot of highfalutin nonsense about the Constitution, technological dependence and individual responsibility) drains the movie of most - though admittedly not all - of its camp value, and the hyperactive editing make the potentially exciting chase sequences (particularly the first vehicle chase) a chore to watch - especially at a hair under two hours. What's worse than a dumb thriller? A dumb thriller that thinks it's smart.

Simon Howell

Elegy

Elegy

Directed by Isabel Coixet

After a string of misfires both high-profile (The Wackness) and less so (A Sound of Thunder), it's wonderful to see Sir Ben Kingsley back at the top of his game in Elegy, a new drama adapted from Phlip Roth's The Human Animal - but Kingsley's resurgence is not the only cause for celebration here. Sidestepping most (if not all) of the obvious pitfalls typically associated with its low-key subject matter, Elegy works astonishingly well both as a showcase for some very strong performances but also as a meditation on love, mortality and contentment.

Kingsley stars as David Kapesh, a successful novelist and professor whose life consists mostly of heated discussions with his friend, poet George (Dennis Hopper) and intermittent bouts of sex with the similarly commitment-phobic Carolyn (Patricia Clarkson). Kapesh was stung by a marriage that ended badly, leaving him distanced from his adult son (Peter Saarsgard), who remains bitter about his father's abandonment. Kapesh is seemingly content with his arrangement, until he meets Consuela (Penelope Cruz), a student, and falls madly in love for the first time in his life. As their affair progresses, Kapesh is forced to assess his life's trajectory and what it means to retain desire at an advanced age.

Film adaptations of heady novels tend to overstress their "literary" credentials through overwrought presentation devices and overbearing narration - that's mostly avoided here (although Kapesh does narrate portions of the film, and not always helpfully), allowing the film to rest in the very capable hands of its stellar cast. The aforementioned Kingsley is note-perfect, inspiring both empathy and an appropriate amount of emotional distance from the audience when appropriate. He and Cruz exhibit the most palpable erotic and romantic chemistry I've seen so far this year - no small feat, since they're far from the most likely pairing. Cruz has perhaps the most difficult role in the film - Hopper's poet expresses concern over the "invisibility" of beauty, and the manner in which the male gaze can never truly penetrate the sight of a beautiful woman in order to truly identify the person in question. Cruz is indeed beautiful enough to create that challenge, so every moment she's onscreen becomes a dare for the audience to scrutinize her more carefully. The supporting cast is uniformly excellent - particular note should be made of Hopper, who plays a regular human being here (and not a snivelling villain) for the first time in what ages, and Clarkson, who, at her (relatively) advanced age, is made to present a parallel image of female beauty to match Cruz's. It works.

Easily the best American prestige picture I've seen so far this year (though admittedly coming before the fall deluge of Oscar hopefuls), Elegy is touching but not syrupy, keeping itself palpably human and grounded where a lesser treatment of the same material might have buckled under the weight of the plot's overlapping thematic strains. Even if Sir Ben's recent offerings might have turned you off the guy for a while this is more than worth a look.

Simon Howell

Ghost Town

Ghost Town
Directed by David Koepp

Sometimes there's nothing more dispiriting than getting exactly what you expect. Anyone who caught trailers for Ghost Town would have glimpsed the often-brilliant British comic Ricky Gervais (The Office, Extras) prancing about in what appeared to be a formulaic American romantic comedy. Barring some slight aberrations, that's exactly what we get here, and the clash of styles - with Gervais' trademark impish unpleasantness being made to conform to an oppressively "pleasant" genre - is almost bracing in its sheer capacity to do wrong.

Gervais stars in a US production for the first time as dentist Bertram Pincus, an intensely antisocial individual who avoids human contact at all cost, even brushing aside his troubled-but-attractive neighbor Gwen (eternal mark of mediocrity Téa Leoni). After a botched colonoscopy which kills Pincus for "a lil' less than seven minutes" (a very funny Kristen Wiig as Pincus' surgeon), he finds himself hounded by the dead, who (in a direct rip from The Sixth Sense, acknowledged by the film's tagline) hound him to fix their "unfinished business." Among them is Gwen's recently deceased husband Frank (Greg Kinnear, dialing up the smarm), who convinces Pincus to break up Gwen's impending marriage to a human rights lawyer in order to keep the demanding ghosts at bay.

Based on that description and the film's denotation as a rom-com, you already know as well as I do where the film goes. Ghost Town annoys more than most of its kind because of the potential at hand - among all the half-baked ideas and predictable plot machinations there's an occasional moment of inspiration. Nearly all of them come from Gervais, who reprises his awkward schtick to great effect in many scenes (there's a nod to Office fans in the form of the term "willy-nilly"). The rare scenes in which he gets to interact with Wiig makes one long for a movie in which they're paired up, rather than imposing a more traditionally palatable vaccuum like Leoni. Kinnear can be great in the right role, and he occasionally taps into his peculiar blend of charm and contemptibility to nice effect, but he's hamstrung by a character whose choices seem arbitrary and whose ultimate payoff - his "unfinished business" - rings false.

Actually, it's falsehood that is the movie's true undoing - Gervais' characters in his beloved series do have a likable core, but here that aspect of his personality is overplayed, effectively defanging much of the humor. Pincus' necessary switch from "bad" to "good" is neither smooth nor convincing, and the film's proffered explanation for Pincus' beastliness trivializes Gervais' approach. That, combined with the perfunctory manner in which Gervais and Leoni's courtship is rolled out, makes enjoying the film more work than it has to be.

Simon Howell

X-Cross (review)

X-Cross
Kenta Fukasaku
2007, Japan

From Kenta Fukasaku the director of the very disappointing sequel "Battle Royale II," and son of the legendary filmmaker Kinji Fukasaku comes X- Cross a Japanese Sci-fi / Slasher movie that doesn't make any sense. Unfortunately “like father like son” does not seem to apply in the case of the Fukasaku family. X Cross is seriously overrated, borrowing from the now over used Roshomon structure of story telling and even worse, it uses mobile phones to help rocket the story.

Scripted by Tetsuya Ôishi, fresh off penning both DEATH NOTE films, the plot centers on two Japanese girls who visit a remote village for a girl’s getaway. Shiyori (Nao Matsushita) is coming fresh off her break up with her long term boyfriend, while her friend Aiko (Ami Suzuki) is a taking a much deserved time off from her four boyfriends. Unlike normal woman they vacation out in the middle of nowhere seeking out the local hot springs and they of course stumble upon a cult of men who ritually amputate women's legs. The relaxing getaway quickly turns to terror when realizing the entire village is obsessed with inbred leg fetishists.

X-Cross has it’s share of interesting and colorful characters including psychopathic witches, a female version of both Leatherface and one of Edward Scissorhands, an Igor like henchmen and Asian redneck cultists. At time the action is fast and furious and I will admit that it has one of the most intense fight sequences I’ve seen all year long involving a giant size pair of scissor and a chainsaw. It’s a film that implores you to just sit back and enjoy the ride. It’s ridiculous, crazy and although not for me, fans of extreme Japanese cult films will find themselves for the most part entertained. If you can get past the huge plot holes, tired gimmicks and horrible cinematography you may find yourself enjoying this film.

Daniel Moscovitz

Listen to episode 58 for a more in depth review!

The Burrowers (review)

The Burrowers
Directed by J.T. Petty

With the American Western turned sufficiently on its head over the last few years, thanks to new interpretations that have upped the quotient of brutality (The Proposition, the Western-in-Coens-clothing No Country for Old Men), beauty (The Assassination of Jesse James) or both (Deadwood). As it seems it must, two trends have now collided, with the newly rejuvenated Western butting heads with the newly resurgent creature feature in J.T. Petty's initially promising but ultimately negligible fourth feature The Burrowers. Something like Tremors meets Dances With Wolves, but without ever establishing an appropriate tone either of camp enjoyment or grave foreboding.

Karl Geary (Petty's Mimic 3: Sentinel) and Sean Patrick Thomas (Save the Last Dance) star as, respectively, an Irish immigrant and a Freeman in Dakota in 1876, who end up in an obviously doomed search party led by a wicked mustachioed man of indeterminate origin (we know he's wicked not only because of the mustache, but because he constantly berates all the non-white characters). The party in question is doomed because people keep disappearing, only to be found later mostly covered in dirt - still technically alive, but completely unresponsive otherwise. The aforementioned evil mustache (Doug Hutchison) is convinced it's the work of malevolent Indians and vows to hunt them down - but the local Ute population knows otherwise and are eager to see the arrogant white men consumed by the mysterious beasts that creep the surrounding grasslands.

Despite a potentially juicy premise, The Burrowers is laughably incoherent and falls apart completely after a promising first 20 minutes. Petty, who also wrote the film, directs as though we should be taking the dangers at hand seriously, but is thoroughly unconvincing in conveying period language and detail. His idea of "period" dialogue is to insert "I reckon" or "I gather" into a conversation a few times. Thomas' Callahan (who is meant to be from Georgia, but doesn't even attempt an accent) is made to insist, embarrassingly, that "everything's cool" in one scene. There's a mildly amusing exchange between Thomas and Geary on the subject of their shared otherness, but it feels too convenient to be genuine. Noble Indian tropes are prominent. Perhaps most cripplingly, the creatures themselves (subterranean sluglike wraiths) are comically phallic and become increasingly laughable as the film progresses - when we discover that a good kick can keep the crawlers at bay, it makes their earlier conquests seem unlikely. The two most unique aspects of the film's concept - the eerie manner in which "survivors" appear in the ground, and the use of a period setting - are undone by its poor stagings (not to mention often-stodgy CGI) and wildly inconsistent tonal work. It could have worked as high camp, but Petty's self-serious tone digs a hole it can't escape

Pighunt (review)

Pighunt

Directed by James Isaac

From the demented mind of director James Isaac (Jason X) comes a survivalist horror / action film complete with hardcore violence, hippies, unnecessary nudity, racism, rednecks and a giant 3000 pound pig named Ripper.

The film follows John (Travis Aaron Wade), his girlfriend Brooks (Tina Huang), and his friends who voyage out to his uncle’s remote cabin in the woods for a weekend getaway of sex, drinking and hunting. Only things go wrong when some past acquaintances bearing old grudges cross paths with the group causing a quarrel to break out. Rubbing shoulders the wrong way the group of friends soon find themselves on the run and now “the hunted”, as the local redneck hillbillies drive out with murderous intentions. Led by the Tibb’s brothers along side Preacher (Les Claypool of Primus), the group chases John and company deep into the forest causing both parties to cross paths with the forest’s Gypsy inhabitants; a nudist cult of porn star like amazons who of course worship who else but Ripper. And what do they feed the pig? Do you really need to ask?

It’s an exploitation film that’s unapologetic and once the first kill takes place, it goes for the extreme and never looks back. Reminiscent of films like Grizzly, Deliverance and even The Condemned, screenwriter Robert Mailer Anderson throws every sub genre into the fire so your never really know sure where it’s heading.

It’s difficult to review this film seriously because it’s has ridiculous as the directors former film Jason X. Definitely not everyone’s cup of tea but what saves the film is that it is never taken seriously. Issac’s only intention and care is to have as good of a time has he can on set and hopefully deliver the same feeling to its audience. Tired of working within the Hollywood system, he takes every opportunity here to do everything and anything he normally can’t do and breaks every rule.

Gore hounds and fans of old grindhouse pictures will love its gratuitous violence and supercharged action. Don’t expect a clever story, good acting or even a great score. This film gets its legs from the naked vixens and well, the wild boar.

Alex Ross

Hey Good Lookin'

Hey Good Lookin'

Hey Good Lookin' is the 1982 animated film written, directed, and produced by Ralph Bakshi and is set in Brooklyn, New York, during the 1950s. It features the voices of Richard Romanus, David Proval, Tina Bowman and Jesse Welles.

Hey Good Lookin' doesn't try to appeal to a wide range of audiences and Bakshi’s crazy vision is not for everyone, but fans of his earlier work will love this picture. His film is wild with outrageous sex scenes, barrels of laughs and a musical score which ranges from catchy 50s throwbacks to more recent 80's tunes. It’s intelligent, dark, and is a satirical look on the American youth culture of the 50's. It’s a story of friendship, love and betrayal yet it’s vulgar and rude, violent, clichéd and great. Ralph Bakshi brings his New York sensibility back with a Grease like twist of doo-wops, slicked back hair, leather jackets, gang rumbles, and lots of sex. Put best, it`s a cross between Grease, Rebel Without A Cause and Mean Streers only animated.

The film is filled with colorful characters starting with Vinnie the main character and leader of a Brooklyn gang called The Stompers. His first Lieutenant and best buddy is a guy named Crazy Shapiro. Crazy is a misunderstood hoodlum with silver dollar nipples. His dad is a detective who hates him, and routinely tries to kill him. There is also Roz, a sultry sexy lead lady whom Vinnie can't keep his hands off and let’s not forget the black gang of Chaplains lead by Boon-a-loo an Eddie Griffin look alike. Crazy Shapiro’s antics lead to continual problems, including an impending rumble with the black gang. The plot builds with rock n roll shows, wild parties, make-out sessions, and a bloody shootout that threatens to separate Rozzie and Vinnie forever.

The film was produced during the same period as Bakshi's other street life-related films Heavy Traffic and Coonskin. Hey Good Lookin' was first completed in 1975 as a live-action/animated combination, in which only the main characters were animated and the rest were portrayed by live actors. However, the studio financing the film found the concept to be unbelievable and forced the director to go back and animate the live-action sequences.

Tyler Cutler

Listen to our Ralph Bakshi

Episode 19-B .. click here

Slumdog Millionaire (review)

"Call it a comedy, a drama, or a tragedy, anyway or every way, Slumdog Millionaire is great." By Tom Desmond

Fox Searchlight Pictures and Warner Brothers Pictures present, in association with Celador Films and Film4, Danny Boyle's Slumdog Millionaire. The screenplay was written by Simon Beaufoy. The picture stars Dev Patel, Freida Pinto, Anil Kapoor, and Irfan Khan. At the time of this review the film runs 120 minutes and has not yet been rated by the MPAA. The content as seen in my screening would suggest an MPAA "R" rating for scenes of torture and violence. The film is in Hindi and English with English subtitles.

A young man, Jamal, who grew up an orphan on the streets of Mimbai, India, gets on the Indian version of Who Wants to be a Millionaire to try to contact his girlfriend. He ends up defending himself against fraud charges brought by the host of the show who thinks that there is no way a "slumdog" could know all the answers that he does. How Jamal knows each answer is shown in flashbacks from his tough, dramatic, and tragic youth.

Expertly crafted, Slumdog Millionaire has crisp and fast-paced editing by Chris Dickens (Shaun of the Dead, Goal!, and Hot Fuzz) as well as wonderful shot compositions by Anthony Dod Mantle (Dogville, Millions, and The Last King of Scotland). The film includes few name actors and the young actors who play the younger versions of the three main child characters are superb – a true credit to Boyle's direction of the film.

Slumdog Millionaire opens with the 18 year-old Jamal taking a beating and being interrogated about his cheating. The beating gives way to electrocution torture and forcing Jamal's head under water in a small bucket. Jamal swears he has not been cheating, so the local police inspector asks how a slumdog could know all the answers to the questions presented. There is an air of contempt in both the police station and on the television show stage as the show is replayed while the questioning continues. The Who Wants to be a Millionaire show is being replayed on tape for the questioning. As each question is asked, Jamal's memory of his life takes us on a roller coaster ride through his life and the horrors he has seen growing up on the streets without any family but his older brother and a girl his age. The three are inseparable until fate tears them apart.

Character development is finely executed as we learn to know Jamal, his brother, and Latika, the young girl who Jamal loves after he allows her to join he and his brother in some shelter from a monsoon-like rain storm. We also understand the perspectives of the police inspector and the game show's host. The interplay of these characters and other lesser personalities who come and go through the story fill the screen with laughter and trauma alike. Funny, gut-wrenching, and tragic, Slumdog Millionaire is the story of a boy committed to the one he loves. They have been through unimaginable things together and whether she likes it or not, Jamil is determined to rescue Latika from her difficult situation.

I have heard some complain about the ending of the story. Can you predict what is going to happen? Maybe, but in my mind's eye, the end was a very satisfying way to close this story of an unimaginably horrid childhood. Slumdog Millionaire was, in my opinion, the best of the fourteen features I saw in Telluride this Labor Day Weekend.

Pighunt (review)

Pighunt

Directed by James Isaac

From the demented mind if James Isaac (Jason X) comes a survivalist horror / action film complete with hardcore violence, hippies, unnecessary nudity, racism, rednecks and a giant 3000 pound pig named Ripper.

The film follows John (Travis Aaron Wade), his girlfriend Brooks (Tina Huang), and his friends who voyage out to his uncle’s remote cabin in the woods for a weekend getaway of sex, drinking and hunting. Only things go wrong when some past acquaintances bearing old grudges cross paths with the group causing a quarrel to break out. Rubbing shoulders the wrong way the group of friends soon find themselves on the run and now “the hunted”, as the local redneck hillbillies drive out with murderous intentions. Led by the Tibb’s brothers along side Preacher (Les Claypool of Primus), the group chases John and company deep into the forest causing both parties to cross paths with the forest’s Gypsy inhabitants. A nudist cult of porn star like amazons who of course worship who else but Ripper. And what do they feed the pig? Do you really need to ask?

It’s an exploitation film that’s unapologetic and once the first kill takes place, it goes for the extreme and never looks back. Reminiscent of films like Grizzly, Deliverance and even The Condemned, screenwriter Robert Mailer Anderson throws every sub genre into the fire and you never really know where it’s going.

It’s difficult to review this film seriously because it’s has ridiculous as the directors former film Jason X. Definitely not everyone’s cup of tea but what saves the film is that it is never taken seriously. Issac’s only intention and care is to have as good of a time has he can on set and hopefully deliver the same feeling to its audience. Tired of working within the Hollywood system, he takes every opportunity here to do everything and anything he normally can’t do and breaks every rule.

Gore hounds and fans of old grindhouse pictures will love its gratuitous violence and supercharged action. Don’t expect a clever story, good acting or even a great score. This film gets its legs from the naked vixens and well, the wild boar.

Alex Ross