Link explosion!

A bunch of stuff compressed into one entry:

-The day has come when I have finally put my photo in the sidebar with my bio info. I'm not sure that I'm entirely pleased with it--I may have overdone it with the adjustments to the color temperature and shadowing--but for now it's a keeper.

-I've enabled the ability to e-mail my blog entries. You know you want to do it.

-Looking at this site's traffic monitoring reports is a source of almost endless entertainment for me. I haven't kept a running tally, but I'd almost bet that aside from the main page, the most accessed link is my HELL'S ANGELS review. Part of the reason has to do with being one of just six reviews linked on Rotten Tomatoes, but I've seen regular hits for it coming from search engines. With this week's release of THE AVIATOR on DVD, hits have picked up significantly. Still, my HELL'S ANGELS review has been an unusually steady performer.

-I've noticed much more traffic for my HOUSE OF WAX review than for CRASH. I'm thrilled to get all of the visitors that come here, but I wish more were interested in Paul Haggis' excellent film than the horror remake featuring Paris Hilton. Rather than chalking it up to greater interest in HOUSE OF WAX, I tell myself that it's my contrarian stance on it that may be luring more people here. The film has a rotten 22% on the Tomatometer, although I stand by my positive review. On a site like Rotten Tomatoes, going against the consensus makes you stand out. I imagine that's also why my reviews of GUNNER PALACE, MAD HOT BALLROOM, and PAPER CLIPS have been among my most viewed.

-My NOW PLAYING co-host Paul Markoff is dipping a toe into the blogging world. His new venture is Flicks, Sticks, and Politics. Can't say that I vouch for his political opinions most of the time, but then again I regularly disagree with him on films and on sports moves, like the Reds' dumping of Danny Graves (good riddance). Still, give his blog a look.

-The Film Journal's Rick Curnutte and Peter Tonguette are fellow central Ohio critics also a-bloggin' at Rick's The Film Journal Blog and Peter's Film-Centric Blog.

-One of my brothers has been asking me to give him some pub and provide a link to his website. I hope he's happy now. Philip's site, Found in the Couch, is in the wild, wild web tradition of destinations like Save Karyn, where a woman asked for donations to help pay off her debt, and The Amazing "Send Me a Dollar" Website, which I think is self-explanatory. My brother explains:

My goal is to create a small fortune out of the spare change of thousands of people. This is a social experiment to see how much money that is lying around and otherwise not being used can be sent to one location. Look in your couch, pockets, car, countertop, or anywhere you might have spare change.

He also accepts photos of other items of interest found in your couch. Check it out.

-I'd be remiss if I didn't point out my DVDMon webmaster Levi Wallach's gadget and tech blog Twelve Black Code Monkeys. I don't always know what he's talking about, but he does a good job of writing about new technology.

-For those of you patiently awaiting my update on day 4 of the Deep Focus Film Fest, thank you. The wait's going to be longer. Hopefully I can wrap it up by mid-June. The same goes for my report from this year's Roger Ebert's Overlooked Film Festival, which I need to bang out in time for the next issue of The Film Journal.

-The critics at Time have published their list of the All-Time 100 Movies. There's a future blog post waiting to be written about this, but for now I'll merely say that it's an interesting tweak of the canon.

Unleashed

UNLEASHED (Louis Leterrier, 2005)

As Glaswegian thug Bart, Bob Hoskins raises an abandoned boy to become his attack dog in UNLEASHED. The boy, Danny, grows up to become an ultimate killing machine in the form of Jet Li. Bart controls Danny by keeping a collar on him. When a client displeases him, he removes the collar and sics Danny on him. One day Danny escapes and is taken in by Morgan Freeman as the blind piano tuner Sam. He and his daughter Victoria show Danny kindness and a more peaceful life. When Bart finds Danny, he expects him to resume fighting and killing.

UNLEASHED isn’t intended as a commentary on how Jet Li has been utilized in Hollywood, but it serves that purpose nonetheless. Li’s transition to American films has brought roles with little dialogue or characterization and lots of kicking and punching. In all fairness, some of that can be attributed to his English fluency and the action genre’s limitations, but Li’s U.S. films have often treated him as just the latest imported martial arts curiosity. Ironically, in playing the equivalent of a dog in UNLEASHED, Li gets his most human character and an acting showcase. Li makes us feel sorry for Danny like we do for other movie beasts, from Frankenstein’s monster to the troublemaking alien in LILO & STITCH. There’s a lot of pathos in seeing Danny kept in a cage in the floor with a teddy bear, a punching bag, and an alphabet book to keep him occupied.

Of course, the reason anyone will go to see UNLEASHED is the action. Director Louis Leterrier and fight choreographer Yuen Woo-ping don’t disappoint. The well-choreographed action has a video game’s fluidity and brute force. UNLEASHED ingeniously uses props and enclosed spaces to heighten the excitement. The best fight occurs between Li and a white-robed warrior in a bathroom that is three feet wide at best. As good as the action is, the human element gives the film power. Freeman, as the gentle father figure, and Hoskins, as the abuser, do superior work as the opposing influences in Danny’s life. UNLEASHED satisfies on a primal level for physical combat and emotional nurturing, making it an unusually well-balanced action movie.

Grade: B

(Review first aired on the May 24, 2005 NOW PLAYING)

Dear Frankie

DEAR FRANKIE (Shona Auerbach, 2004)

In DEAR FRANKIE Emily Mortimer plays Lizzie, single mother to a deaf nine-year-old son. Lizzie, Frankie, and her mother move regularly so that Lizzie’s abusive husband and his family can’t find them. Lizzie has never revealed the truth about Frankie’s father to him and explains his absence with a lie that he works on a ship. Posing as Frankie’s dad, Lizzie writes letters to her son to perpetuate the falsehood. One day a classmate informs Frankie that his dad’s ship is scheduled to dock in a Glasgow harbor. Rather than come clean, Lizzie pays a stranger to pretend to be Frankie’s father for a day.

At first glance Shona Auerbach’s DEAR FRANKIE appears to be the stuff of a Lifetime TV movie. True to its weepy telefilm resemblance, DEAR FRANKIE delivers several eye-dabbing moments, but the tears in this working class tale are earned through solid storytelling and subdued acting. As a fiercely protective mother Mortimer’s tender performance is especially good. Although Lizzie is vulnerable, Mortimer refuses to play her as a victim. She’s strong when she must be, but Mortimer doesn’t overdo it. Her Lizzie is a complicated woman who knows the house of cards she’s constructed will come tumbling down eventually, but she is unable to look past the daily struggle or confess to the ugly truth. As the whip-smart Frankie, Jack McElhone is engaging in a performance that is anything but cloying. Screenwriters love to employ the construct of a character paying a stranger to pose as someone else even if it isn’t a common action in everyday life. The shopworn story device works in DEAR FRANKIE because Auerbach and screenwriter Andrea Gibb stick to a neorealist style that makes Lizzie’s choice, the helpful stranger, and the deception’s aftermath believable for these people and this situation.

Grade: B+

(Review first aired on the May 24, 2005 NOW PLAYING and was published in a different form in Issue 12 of The Film Journal)

Monster-in-Law

MONSTER-IN-LAW (Robert Luketic, 2005)

Jennifer Lopez finds the man of her dreams and the in-law of her nightmares in MONSTER-IN-LAW. Lopez stars as the happy-go-lucky Charlie, who leads a colorful life populated with odd jobs and trendy friends. She meets and falls for Kevin, a doctor played by Michael Vartan. Their romance is like a fantasy, but every fairy tale needs a villain. Enter Jane Fonda as Kevin’s mother Viola, a Barbara Walters-like newswoman with Larry King’s marital track record. Viola doesn’t voice her objections to Kevin and Charlie’s engagement. Instead she schemes to break up the happy couple by becoming the most overbearing mother-in-law possible.

MONSTER-IN-LAW director Robert Luketic’s career to date consists of films about sweet, naïve women trying to find their life paths. Reese Witherspoon and Kate Bosworth were perfect matches for their LEGALLY BLONDE and WIN A DATE WITH TAD HAMILTON! characters. Lopez is tougher to buy in the ingénue role. The Jenny from the block mystique she tries to regain as a pigtailed, starry-eyed girl in MONSTER-IN-LAW is convincing only as a public relations strategy to correct the fallout from the Bennifer years. Luketic’s films differ from their counterparts because he favors the heart and innocence on display in old movies. The nastier comedy that MONSTER-IN-LAW demands is a bad fit for him. Playing nice and going for the proverbial throat are in comic opposition. Luketic can’t solve the dilemma with his softened approach. MONSTER-IN-LAW is this year’s second big studio variation on MEET THE PARENTS, neither of which has equaled the inspiration’s laugh value.

Grade: C-

(Review first aired on the May 24, 2005 NOW PLAYING)

Kicking & Screaming

KICKING & SCREAMING (Jesse Dylan, 2005)

The title of the new Will Ferrell soccer comedy KICKING & SCREAMING more accurately describes the coaches on the sidelines than the kids on the pitch. Ferrell stars as mild-mannered Phil Weston, who endured his share of athletic indignities due to his ultra-competitive father Buck, played by Robert Duvall. Phil’s son plays on Buck’s soccer team until granddad trades him to the hapless Tigers. Phil takes over as the Tigers’ coach, which brings out his previously unseen aggressive side.

The more obnoxious Ferrell becomes, the funnier KICKING & SCREAMING gets. Unfortunately his transformation into a full-blown, win-at-all-cost hothead comes too late, and then that’s quickly erased with a big hug of a conclusion. Much of KICKING & SCREAMING feels like flailing improvisation to salvage the tepid material. Ferrell’s a gamer who does what he can, but he has little support. None of the kids on the soccer team merit much time. The idea of Mike Ditka playing himself is funnier than it is in execution. The Ferrell-Duvall rivalry isn’t very interesting, and Ferrell’s relationship with his son is practically nonexistent. Still, KICKING & SCREAMING manages to remain mildly amusing because, in sports parlance, Ferrell leaves it all on the field. Phil’s coffee addiction is a recurring non sequitur that adds some laughs to a movie that could stand to put more on the scoreboard.

Grade: C

(Review first aired on the May 24, 2005 NOW PLAYING)

Star Wars: Episode II--Attack of the Clones

In anticipation of seeing STAR WARS: EPISODE III--REVENGE OF THE SITH tonight, here's a blast from the past.

STAR WARS: EPISODE II--ATTACK OF THE CLONES (George Lucas, 2002)

STAR WARS: EPISODE II--ATTACK OF THE CLONES picks up ten years after THE PHANTOM MENACE. Padmé Amidala’s (Natalie Portman) time as queen has come to an end. Although now merely a senator, she remains a high profile target during these tumultuous days for the Republic. Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) are assigned to protect her after a failed assassination attempt. Anakin is no longer the little boy Padmé last saw, and his desire for her has grown beyond sisterly affection.

Anakin and Padmé leave for a safe haven while Obi-Wan searches for the assassin. The potential lovers become reacquainted. Anakin’s impetuousness charms her, but a deep rage seethes underneath that boyish rebelliousness. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan learns that the Republic ordered the construction of a clone army, which has been assembled potentially to do battle with the forces of former Jedi and separatist Count Dooku (Christopher Lee).

Some of THE PHANTOM MENACE'S problems are corrected in ATTACK OF THE CLONES. Although still present in doses, the cutesy kid-oriented material has been dialed down considerably. There’s nothing like the infamous Jake Lloyd “yippee” exclamation or joke where a character steps in poop. The generally despised Jar Jar Binks is in short supply, and even in those few scenes, he is more subdued.

Larger issues overshadow these minor improvements, though. The dense expositional dialogue is taxing to process and devours too much of the film’s first hour. Making heads or tails of the various political machinations and subplots is nearly impossible without an outline. There’s too much story or at least too much being told instead of being shown. Lucas most notably errs in favoring dialogue over depiction when Anakin’s gives in to his darker impulses. Rather than presenting a powerful scene of how the future Darth Vader indulges his hatred, Lucas provides just a glimpse and then cuts away so Anakin can tell Padmé (and the audience) what he did. Lucas doesn’t shy away from violence in the film’s latter scenes, so why do so here? Since this is the pivotal moment in ATTACK OF THE CLONES when Anakin’s character changes, it makes little directorial sense to handle it indirectly.

Calling ATTACK OF THE CLONES' romantic arc adolescent is an insult to teenagers. The budding love between Anakin and Padmé is unconvincing and passively attended. Padmé still treats Anakin as if he is a child and often refers to him by the more familiar, and emasculating, Ani. Anakin possesses a creepy fixation on her, and at one point I briefly wondered if Luke and Leia’s conception might have a disturbing origin. That Anakin and Padmé become a couple at the end of the film owes more to prequel constraints than any relationship we’ve seen form.

As in THE PHANTOM MENACE, the performances leave a lot to be desired, but I think Lucas is to blame more than the actors. Some fine actors populate the cast, but all of the performers, whether proven or unproven, are as stiff as the corresponding action figures. The flat, imperial tones with which they deliver their lines drain the performances of any joy. Rarely do the actors appear to be having much fun, but presumably this is what Lucas wants. Perhaps he’s aiming to duplicate the stoic warriors of Akira Kurosawa’s films. Portman, McGregor, and Samuel L. Jackson are capable of displaying layered emotion, so it’s a shame to see them reduced to speaking unenergetically. STAR WARS fans will probably hammer Christensen for his whiny Anakin, but before the popular culture jury hangs him, let’s see what he does in a few other non-STAR WARS films. Plus, lest we forget, Mark Hamill’s Luke could throw some good fits, so maybe whininess runs in the Skywalker family.

In spite of all its faults, though, ATTACK OF THE CLONES works more often than not. Obi-Wan’s journey to Kamino, a planet perpetually pounded with rain, is an early highlight, especially when the Jedi fights Jango Fett. Kamino’s reedy, elegant natives are imaginative examples of the freedom digital technology offers Lucas and his special effects artists. In the last forty minutes to an hour, ATTACK OF THE CLONES really hits its stride. This section may not match the giddy fun of the original trilogy, but it comes closer than anything else in the prequels. After Anakin lashes out, the film shakes off its chains. The main characters’ lives are in danger. Watching how they will get out of this peril is infinitely more interesting than trying to decipher what is happening in the Republic. A knockout scene in an execution arena kicks the action up, and the start of the Clone Wars delivers a barrage of thrills. C-3PO manages to sneak in during the battles and steal some scenes with the welcome humor he injects. The climactic duel is destined to be the film’s signature moment, the magical scene that should delight hardcore fans and the casual moviegoers in the audience.

With ATTACK OF THE CLONES Lucas may not have righted the franchise completely, but whether it’s early in flashes or later in extended sequences, he succeeds in building upon the series’ mythology and taking us to new, dazzling places. The final forty to sixty minutes are frequently as satisfying as these escapist-type films can get. ATTACK OF THE CLONES is far from perfect, but when it clicks, it revives the old spirit that made a generation become so obsessed with all things STAR WARS in the first place.

Grade: B

(Review originally published on DVDMon.com)

Auteur News

The first MANDERLAY review from Cannes I've come across heightens my anticipation for the second film in Lars von Trier's USA trilogy. Although MANDERLAY is described as "more tightly scripted and less gruelling than DOGVILLE", it sounds like it is just as provocative, if not more, than his previous masterpiece. The MANDERLAY trailer signals that the criticisms surrounding DOGVILLE haven't changed his ways. Those sensitive to racial slurs may want to think twice about viewing the trailer as it's likely to offend some. There's no way it would ever run in a commercial theater in this country. MANDERLAY probably won't hit the States until 2006. The trilogy's third film will not be von Trier's next.

Also at Cannes, Woody Allen's MATCH POINT has been getting some of the best reviews he's had in at least ten years, if not more. Gus Van Sant's LAST DAYS, which continues the stylistic devices of GERRY and ELEPHANT, has received better notices than Atom Egoyan's WHERE THE TRUTH LIES, although there seems to be a fair amount of ambivalence surrounding both.

Roger Ebert's Movie Answer Man column checks into the status of David Gordon Green's film of John Kennedy Toole's A CONFEDERACY OF DUNCES. The project isn't dead, but it isn't in production either.

Mad Hot Ballroom

MAD HOT BALLROOM (Marilyn Agrelo, 2005)

MAD HOT BALLROOM documents precocious fifth graders in the New York public school system learning how to dance and the teachers who are passionate about the Dancing Classrooms program. It's exactly the sort of film for which "feel-good" and "crowd-pleasing" were intended. At the risk of sounding like a grouch, I was bored more than I was charmed.

Director Marilyn Agrelo tracks the progress at schools in Bensonhurst, Tribeca, and Washington Heights as the students learn ballroom dances in preparation for the citywide competition. The children are taught the tango, rumba, swing, foxtrot, and merengue. More than sixty schools take part in the contest, but the purpose of the program isn't winning a trophy but exposing the children to the arts and instilling confidence and discipline.

Dancing is MAD HOT BALLROOM'S focus, but Agrelo also observes how the kids, on the cusp of interest in dating, grow into their gender roles. The fifth graders are still young enough that they don't seem self-conscious in front of the camera or around one another, but most acknowledge, often in humorous ways, that they're aware of the feelings that they have for members of the opposite sex. The girls seem savvier than the boys, which, as loquacious fifth grader Emma would tell you, shouldn't come as a surprise.

Unlike SPELLBOUND, another documentary about children in competition, MAD HOT BALLROOM doesn't acquaint us very well with the kids. Many are interviewed, and some stand out more than others. The uncommonly serious Cyrus, theory-filled Emma, and Wilson, the smoothest of all the dancers, make the strongest impressions, but we get to know them as types more than as individuals.

MAD HOT BALLROOM falls into the trap that the teachers avoid. The competition becomes the center of attention, and that's when the film falls into a numbing repetition. Since three schools' progress must be followed, we see each competing in the rounds leading up to and including the finals. At the finals Agrelo shows each dance more or less in its entirety, the alternates getting their chance to shine, and then the dance-off to determine the winner among the three finalists awarded the gold level of achievement. With school funding crises forcing districts to chop arts programs, it's understandable why Agrelo would want to show Dancing Classrooms' impact on these children, but at 110 minutes, the film is much longer than it needs to be. The kids are cute and the intentions are good, but ultimately MAD HOT BALLROOM plays like a teacher's presentation to the school board about the importance of arts education.

Grade: C

(Review originally appeared in a slightly different form as part of my Deep Focus Film Fest day 3 coverage)

Brothers (Brødre)

BROTHERS (BRØDRE) (Susanne Bier, 2004)

Told predominantly through handheld close-ups, Danish director Susanne Bier's intimate drama BROTHERS (BRØDRE) examines the cost of war on the domestic front. Military officer Michael (Ulrich Thomsen) is the good son in the family, especially in comparison to his layabout brother Jannik (Nikolaj Lie Kaas). Michael has what parents wish for their children--a respected position of authority and responsibility at work and a loving family of his own--while Jannik's established relationships are with the law and the bottle.

Shortly after Michael is called to serve in Afghanistan, a mistaken report returns to Denmark that he was killed when his helicopter was downed during a rescue mission. Perhaps without realizing what he's doing, Jannik cleans up his act and starts taking Michael's place with his brother's grieving family. He and some acquaintances complete the kitchen remodeling that Michael left unfinished. Soon Jannik is regularly staying at their home and becoming a surrogate father to his brother's two girls. There's also an unspoken, and mostly unacted upon, attraction between Jannik and his sister-in-law Sarah (Connie Nielsen).

During this time insurgents have held Michael hostage and forced him to choose between obeying his training and clawing to stay alive. Eventually British troops overtake the camp where he's kept. They deliver him home as a man resurrected but fundamentally changed. Haunted by his actions, Michael struggles to assimilate to civilian life and becomes suspicious of the connections forged among Jannik, Sarah, and his daughters.

BROTHERS' plot sounds similar to PEARL HARBOR, but Bier's psychologically complex melodrama bears little resemblance to the spectacle and saccharine love story of Michael Bay's film. The camera holds on Thomsen, Kaas, and Nielsen's faces for signs of the internal turmoil their characters experience. Neither Michael, Jannik, nor Sarah can be faulted for finding themselves in this complicated scenario, which raises the triangle's dramatic tension to an almost unbearable level. Each of the three primary actors' subtle but powerful performances pull the viewer into their corners at times and then get yanked away by another. Bier and screenwriter Anders Thomas Jensen balance the needs and motivations of all three so that discerning the best outcome is unclear.

The DV cinematography gives a fuzzy quality to the images, a flourish that emphasizes the characters' confusion. Bier uses a palette of dark tones to express the emotions buried inside them. The three protagonists act and react in primal ways, and the predominance of deep browns, reds, and blacks reflect the raw nature of their interior lives. Only when Michael can finally reveal his darkest secret does the image gain a bright cast, a lovely pink glow that could have come from a Douglas Sirk film. Contrary to convention, Bier cuts from close-up to long shot during Michael's confession. After spending nearly two hours up close with these people, there is no need to see their faces. We know what his admission means.

Grade: B

(Review originally appeared in a slightly different form as part of my Deep Focus Film Fest day 2 coverage)

Off the Map

OFF THE MAP (Campbell Scott, 2003)

OFF THE MAP focuses on the Groden family, who lead fulfilling lives peacefully, simply, and together in the desert outside Taos, New Mexico. They don't have electricity or a telephone and don't need them. The Grodens can get just about anything they need from the land. What nature doesn't provide, the junkyard does. They’re a creative and resourceful bunch. For instance, whip-smart eleven-year-old Bo (Valentina de Angelis) keeps a steady stream of free snacks flowing into their household by writing carefully worded letters of consumer dissatisfaction to food manufacturers.

OFF THE MAP takes place during a pivotal summertime for the family. Bo’s desire to be less separated from society becomes more pronounced. Her mother Arlene (Joan Allen) struggles to alleviate husband Charley’s (Sam Elliott) deep depression. Since the Grodens get by on less than five thousand dollars annually, money amassed through Charley’s veteran’s benefits and the sale of preserves and honey, they haven’t filed a tax return in years, which brings IRS employee William Gibbs (Jim True-Frost) to their door.

William’s arrival delivers two shocks to his system: the sight of Arlene naked in the garden and a bee sting that lays him out for days. Upon his recovery, William decides to take up residence with the Grodens and follow a path more satisfactory than tax collection.

OFF THE MAP’S rhythms are slower than those to which we’re accustomed in our daily lives and in most films--it takes time to breathe, to savor the present and not get bogged down in all the little things that often dominate our attention--so it requires some time to adjust. The experience of adapting to a less hurried pace reminded me of easing into SPRING, SUMMER, FALL, WINTER…AND SPRING and shedding the tension of modern life. Both films utilize stunning locales that showcase nature’s beauty and permanence to enhance the effect. In OFF THE MAP Juan Ruiz Anchía’s sun-soaked cinematography and Campbell Scott’s unpretentious direction capture the spirit of the land.

OFF THE MAP’S plot, what little of it there is, unwinds gradually. Screenwriter Joan Ackermann adapted the script from her own play, yet the narrative approach is more akin to what’s found in a novel than a film or theatrical production. While few allusions are made to the characters’ backgrounds and their futures are essentially unknown, there’s a strong sense of what is behind these people and what is to come, as if the film plucked its story from the middle of a larger work. Near the film’s end past and future are elegantly merged in a slow dissolve, like a pinhole camera photograph that has taken years to develop, that shows the family by the road.

OFF THE MAP isn’t concerned with the characters’ destinations but how they manage day to day. The tactic permits the film to contain many scenes that would ordinarily be omitted but which make for some of OFF THE MAP’S most pleasurable moments. In one scene, Arlene is working on a car and asks William for a wrench. The camera pans to show that William has walked away to look at the horizon and absorb the view. Scott lets the camera linger there and be awestruck with the natural wonder. Instances such as this reveal more about the characters and reasons for their actions than long monologues and dialogues could. Charley is a man of few words, literally. When he walks a long way to see his friend George (J.K. Simmons), he doesn’t need to say a thing to be understood, although their talk and Charley’s unusual request add some appreciated levity. Unadorned talk also holds true when Arlene approaches Bo about a letter she wrote to an advice columnist. It isn’t an enormous crisis that leads to a long conversation but an issue mother and daughter will sort out as part of their daily routine, in this case, after cleaning and skinning a bear. The cast’s quiet, earthy performances imbue the film with calmness and grace.

Grade: B+

(Review originally appeared in a slightly different form as part of my Deep Focus Film Fest opening night coverage)

A Bump in the Road

My apologies for the non-update of the currently incomplete Deep Focus Film Fest day 4 report. I intended to work on it last night and have it posted, but I arrived home to find that my Time Warner cable is mysteriously out. So, no cable TV, no internet access, and no telephone. (Vonage still collects my voicemails and incoming calls even though I can't answer the phone, so at least I have that going for me.) This situation led to some major scrambling to get someone to record last night's episodes of LOST and ALIAS for me. A technician won't be coming until Friday morning, at which time this will hopefully be resolved.

Anyway, I took my forced media semi-deprivation as a sign to take a much-needed break for a night. I'll be back with nose to the grindstone soon enough.

Status report

As you can see by the reviews posted below, I've been writing for today's taping of NOW PLAYING, which means I won't be getting to the Deep Focus Film Fest's day 4 report until Wednesday.

Ordinarily I don't bother posting regular updates about when pieces will be published on this blog. I've been pleasantly surprised to see the number of new visitors directed here from the festival site, so I wanted to be upfront with those who may be here for the first or second time and wondering why the day 4 report is still nowhere to be seen. Yes, I can be lazy, but for once that's not the excuse.

When posted, the report will replace what is currently here.

Also, in an effort to make the festival reviews easier to find, I'll be reprinting them as separate blog entries.

Thanks for checking in.

Crash

CRASH (Paul Haggis, 2004)

Like MAGNOLIA and SHORT CUTS, CRASH looks at the intersecting lives of several southern Californians. The ensemble cast includes Brendan Fraser and Sandra Bullock as a couple who get carjacked, Terence Howard and Thandie Newton as a TV director and his wife who face police harassment during a traffic stop, and Don Cheadle, Matt Dillon, and Ryan Phillippe as members of the LAPD.

While strides have been made in this country’s race relations, CRASH brings to the forefront the prejudices and stereotypes that often remain unspoken. MILLION DOLLAR BABY scribe Paul Haggis co-writes and directs. His implication isn’t that everyone is a racist but that it takes an ongoing, conscious effort to banish the biases and rushes to judgment ingrained in the culture. In CRASH Haggis subverts the audience’s expectations by placing characters in the middle of a spectrum spanning from nondiscriminatory to racist. Fraser’s character, an ambitious Los Angeles district attorney, hires African-Americans for his staff, but his intent proves to be selfish and politically motivated. Rapper Ludacris plays an articulate character who decries the fact that his skin color and fashion sense lead the white community to assume he’s a criminal, suspicions that also happen to be correct.

CRASH isn’t about finding solutions. That’s too large of burden to place on one film; however, Haggis offers redemption for those wrestling with race issues. CRASH is most powerful in the scenes involving Newton and Dillon, whose characters find their perceptions challenged although not necessarily altered. The film’s cast is uniformly excellent. Newton wrings the emotion from her few moments on screen. Bullock proves she’s able to do more than act cute and klutzy. If she wants to extend her career, she’d be wise to do more films like CRASH and phase out those like MISS CONGENIALITY 2. CRASH is one of the year’s best films to date.

Grade: A

(Review first aired on the May 10, 2005 NOW PLAYING)

House of Wax

HOUSE OF WAX (Jaume Collet-Serra, 2005)

The filmmakers behind HOUSE OF WAX, a reworking of André De Toth’s 1953 horror flick with Vincent Price, couldn't imagine a more horrifying scenario than socialite and professional publicitymonger Paris Hilton's omnipresence in the spotlight. Although this film perpetuates Hilton's media overexposure, casting her in a minor supporting role that all but declares her screen butchering is a stroke of genius. HOUSE OF WAX tells a familiar story of college students who end up in a place that time forgot and are chased by maniacs. Elisha Cuthbert plays the heroine Carly. She and her boyfriend wander into a small town and find a wax museum in which the curator uses live humans to make his creations.

HOUSE OF WAX has a wicked comic streak that compensates for the boilerplate plot and ordinary sections before the killings begin. Several jokes at the expense of Hilton and her infamous sex tape didn’t require the wittiest writers but hit the mark nonetheless. Hilton’s blank acting makes Cuthbert look good by comparison. She was never a strong element of the TV thriller 24 and hasn’t been missed this season, but as Carly she makes a legitimate claim for the role of horror’s new scream queen. HOUSE OF WAX’S violence is abrupt and gory, giving it an ick factor that surprises and repulses in a good way. The final confrontation between Carly and the psychopaths occurs as the museum melts around them. It’s a fun sequence with visual flair. The B movies of yesteryear have been elevated to A level these days, but HOUSE OF WAX is unpretentious in delivering the cheap scarefest goods.

Grade: B-

(Review first aired on the May 10, 2005 NOW PLAYING)

xXx: State of the Union

XXX: STATE OF THE UNION (Lee Tamahori, 2005)

In XXX: STATE OF THE UNION, Vin Diesel’s XXX is killed off in a line of dialogue, so a new deep cover agent is needed to keep America safe. As agent Augustus Gibbons Samuel L. Jackson recruits prisoner Darius Stone, played by Ice Cube. Darius must protect the President and other top officials from the Defense Secretary’s plot to have them killed, thus clearing his way to lead the nation.

The first XXX put a new American generation’s twist on James Bond. It wasn’t exactly the reinvention of the wheel, but XXX had the energy and ludicrous stunts that have been lacking in the flagging 007 series. XXX: STATE OF THE UNION doesn’t fail because Diesel didn’t return. Ice Cube is a capable replacement who brings a better sense of humor. His presence leads to some potentially interesting racial subtext that earns a couple laughs but doesn’t get explored enough. XXX: STATE OF THE UNION falls flat because Lee Tamahori directs the action scenes with the grace of a bull in a china shop. A fight between two tanks on a ship sounds promising. In execution it’s a blur of overediting and tight close-ups, a charge that can be levied against too many contemporary action films. The screenplay is a mess too, although it does end with a wild chase on a bullet train careening through Washington D.C., the only setpiece that really works.

Grade: C-

(Review first aired on the May 10, 2005 NOW PLAYING)

Deep Focus Film Fest: Day 4

Festival director Melissa Starker and her husband Bob

UPDATE: (May 9, 11:05 p.m.) I've been busy writing for my television show taping tomorrow. So, there's going to be a delay, but I should have the day 4 recap here in the next couple days. Thanks for your patience.

Between crashing last night and working today, my report on the final day of the Deep Focus Film Fest will not hit this site until some time tonight. These lines on the festival site sums it up well:

Check back here, for a wrap-up of the past weekend... It was a great success! So great in fact, that we may be asleep for a few days...

MURDERBALL was named the audience award winner.

In the meantime, enjoy the photos.


Zero Degrees of Separation director Elle Flanders


My home May 5-8, 2005

Deep Focus Film Fest: Day 3

I was reminded today how fortunate we are to have the Deep Focus Film Festival at a great theater. I've attended Roger Ebert's Overlooked Film Festival and the Cleveland International Film Festival. There are many things to recommend about both of those festivals, but the Arena Grand is, without a doubt, a more comfortable place to watch several movies in one day. Not to sound like the Chamber of Commerce or Visitors and Convention Bureau, but don't forget the convenient parking, several Arena District restaurants from which to choose for sustenance between films, and ample time to eat a meal. If you can't tell, I'm so happy that an event like this is being held where I live. Getting out of town for film festivals can provide a welcome break from routine, but it's also terrific to attend one where I can see a bunch of movies, go home, check the status of my non-hitting fantasy baseball team, and then stay up far later than I should typing reports for the blog instead of getting some sleep.

Day 3 was the first that confronted the most obsessive festival attendees with two films playing at the same time. It's not possible to see everything--trust me, I've plotted out the films and showtimes--but you can catch all but one.

Leftchannel's music video for RJD2's "1976" was an appropriate lead-in for the ballroom-dancing kids of MAD HOT BALLROOM. I've always envisioned the RJD2 song as a 1970s game show theme, but Leftchannel's animation of photographs of Cuban life was a perfect marriage of images and sound.

MAD HOT BALLROOM documents precocious fifth graders in the New York public school system learning how to dance and the teachers who are passionate about the Dancing Classrooms program. It's exactly the sort of film for which "feel-good" and "crowd-pleasing" were intended. The Deep Focus audience, which had the pleasant surprise of including some kids, would probably agree. At the risk of sounding like a grouch, I was bored more than I was charmed.

Director Marilyn Agrelo tracks the progress at schools in Bensonhurst, Tribeca, and Washington Heights as the students learn dances in preparation for the citywide competition. The children are taught the tango, rumba, swing, foxtrot, and merengue (not meringue, as I jotted in my notepad). More than 60 schools take part in the contest, but the purpose of the program isn't winning a trophy but exposing the children to the arts and instilling confidence and discipline.

Dancing is MAD HOT BALLROOM'S focus, but Agrelo also observes how the kids, on the cusp of interest in dating, grow into their gender roles. The fifth graders are still young enough that they don't seem self-conscious in front of the camera or around one another, but most acknowledge, often in humorous ways, that they're aware of the feelings that they have for members of the opposite sex. The girls seem savvier than the boys, which, as Emma would tell you, shouldn't come as a surprise.

Unlike SPELLBOUND, another documentary about children in competition, MAD HOT BALLROOM doesn't acquaint us very well with the kids. Many are interviewed, and some stand out more than others. The uncommonly serious Cyrus, theory-filled Emma, and Wilson, the smoothest of all the dancers, make the strongest impressions, but we get to know them as types more than as individuals.

MAD HOT BALLROOM falls into the trap that the teachers avoid. The competition becomes the center of attention, and that's when the film falls into a numbing repetition. Since three schools' progress must be followed, we see each competing in the rounds leading up to and including the finals. At the finals Agrelo shows each dance more or less in its entirety, the alternates getting their chance to shine, and then the dance-off to determine the winner among the three finalists awarded the gold level of achievement. With school funding crises forcing districts to chop arts programs, it's understandable why Agrelo would want to show Dancing Classrooms' impact on these children, but at 110 minutes, the film is much longer than it needs to be. The kids are cute and the intentions are good, but ultimately MAD HOT BALLROOM plays like a teacher's presentation to the school board about the importance of arts education.




As Zeus took the form of a swan to seduce Leda, Paul Pavlikovsky's MY SUMMER OF LOVE promises a scorching romance between two girls to entice the viewer, although it proves to be something else altogether.

Despite their differences teenagers Mona (Nathalie Press) and Tamsin (Emily Blunt) form an intense friendship that leads to love. Red-haired, freckled Mona lives above a pub that her born again brother Phil (Paddy Considine) converts into a spiritual meeting place. She's none too pleased that Phil found God in prison. Along comes Tamsin, a beautiful boarding school student who has returned to her parents' enormous home for the summer. Mona and Tamsin bond over lost family members and those still around who they feel have betrayed them. They're an inseparable duo who bristle at Phil's warnings of the devil's temptations at work in their town.

The devil doesn't have horns, a tail, and a pitchfork but a friendly face and seductive lies. Pavlikovsky keeps MY SUMMER OF LOVE compelling because we're never entirely sure if Mona should doubt Phil's conversion or if he has insight into unseen evils plaguing the town. Out of his conviction Phil erects a large cross at the top of the hill in the hope of saving others. The power of transformation runs deep through the film, not only with that specific religious symbol but also with words, images, and music. The swan plays a key role, whether as the name of the pub before it changes into a place of worship, a knickknack Mona's mother had, or the classical music Tamsin plays on her cello. Water and its importance in key moments of transformation comes into play as well.

Coupled with Ryszard Lenczewski's picturesque cinematography, Press and Blunt's natural performances communicate a palpable sense of the summer's heat and the hazy days of adolescence and ardor.

The last film of the night was ONE MISSED CALL (CHAKUSHIN ARI) from prolific Japanese director Takashi Miike. Of his films that I've come across, this is the most conventional and accessible, but that doesn't mean it's without merit. Who better to exploit an ominous ring-tone, the thunderous crunch of toenail clipping, an inhaler's whoosh, and a peephole phobia for scares than one of the preeminent Asian extreme directors?

In ONE MISSED CALL young people receive cell phone messages from themselves in the future. They soon learn that these missed calls are omens of their impending deaths. Try as she might, Yumi (Kou Shibasaki) cannot avoid getting one of these messages. She and Yamashita (Shin'ichi Tsutsumi), whose sister was one of the first to fall prey to the deadly dialer, race against the clock to solve the mystery before Yumi becomes the latest victim.

Miike reins in his anything goes impulses--there are no random claymation sequences or other giddily insane developments that made THE HAPPINESS OF THE KATAKURIS constantly surprising--but still smuggles in his sense of humor and flair for the grotesque, often at the same time. This includes a severed arm dialing a cell phone, a decapitated head in the foreground and the body stumbling around in the background, and a reanimated corpse with chunks of wet flesh sloughing off of it. For good measure, he throws in a vicious criticism of reality television when one of Yumi's doomed friends is whisked away for a live special counting down her final seconds. (As over the top as the show is, it plays like something the Fox network would do in the blink of an eye.) This is what passes for a straightforward Miike film. No wonder this will be the first of his films Hollywood will try to remake.

In ONE MISSED CALL tension builds within scenes and creeps from scene to scene. Miike prefers for most of the scares to come gradually, with a select blast of unexpected jolts to keep the audience off-guard. The film ends with a flurry of frights--and probably a false ending or two too many--that have been laying in reserve.

As tends to be the case with other J-horror films, I'm not sure that everything in ONE MISSED CALL makes sense. Actually, I'm certain that it doesn't. If anything, the ending confuses matters rather than clarifying them. Rarely has a sunny end credits pop song sounded so incongruous with what preceded it. The overall theme deals with the inability to outrun abuse even through the distance of years, but as the story becomes more muddled, the statement about abuse passed through generations also is less clear. Regardless, Miike's dread-inducing skills and handling of tone trump any mystifying narrative turns.

Wall Street hosted a post-screening party, but as the occasionally diligent writer I am, I passed in favor of coming home to begin work on this entry. I'll have to get the scoop today.

Audience turnout for the festival has been encouraging so far. Even though these four days have been very competitive for entertainment dollars--Green Day, Ryan Adams, The Decemberists, and Jon Stewart have been in concert--the Deep Focus Film Fest has factored into many people's plans. The gorgeous weather isn't doing us any favors, but at worst I think we're meeting our expectations. There is still one more day of great films, so come spend Mother's Day with us. We have the U.S. theatrical premiere of ZERO DEGREES OF SEPARATION, which includes an introduction by and Q&A with director Elle Flanders. Closing night film MURDERBALL is sure to end the festival with a bang. It may be my favorite out of everything we're showing.

Deep Focus Film Fest: Day 2

The two films for Day 2 of the Deep Focus Film Fest couldn't have been more diametrically opposed.

First up was the Danish drama BROTHERS (BRØDRE). Chris Stults likened it to a "Dogme DEER HUNTER", a three-word description that tells you as much as you need to know as I can in a few hundred words.

Told predominantly through handheld close-ups, director Susanne Bier's intimate film examines the cost of war on the domestic front. Military officer Michael (Ulrich Thomsen) is the good son in the family, especially in comparison to his layabout brother Jannik (Nikolaj Lie Kaas). Michael has what parents wish for their children--a respected position of authority and responsibility at work and a loving family of his own--while Jannik's established relationships are with the law and the bottle.

Shortly after Michael is called to serve in Afghanistan, a mistaken report returns to Denmark that he was killed when his helicopter was downed during a rescue mission. Perhaps without realizing what he's doing, Jannik cleans up his act and starts taking Michael's place with his brother's grieving family. He and some acquaintances complete the kitchen remodeling that Michael left unfinished. Soon Jannik is regularly staying at their home and becoming a surrogate father to his brother's two girls. There's also an unspoken, and mostly unacted upon, attraction between Jannik and his sister-in-law Sarah (Connie Nielsen).

During this time insurgents have held Michael hostage and forced him to choose between obeying his training and clawing to stay alive. Eventually British troops overtake the camp where he's kept. They deliver him home as a man resurrected but fundamentally changed. Haunted by his actions, Michael struggles to assimilate to civilian life and becomes suspicious of the connections forged among Jannik, Sarah, and his daughters.

BROTHERS' plot sounds similar to PEARL HARBOR, but Bier's psychologically complex melodrama bears little resemblance to the spectacle and saccharine love story of Michael Bay's film. The camera holds on Thomsen, Kaas, and Nielsen's faces for signs of the internal turmoil their characters experience. Neither Michael, Jannik, nor Sarah can be faulted for finding themselves in this complicated scenario, which raises the triangle's dramatic tension to an almost unbearable level. Each of the three primary actors' subtle but powerful performances pull the viewer into their corners at times and then get yanked away by another. Bier and screenwriter Anders Thomas Jensen balance the needs and motivations of all three so that discerning the best outcome is unclear.

The DV cinematography gives a fuzzy quality to the images, a flourish that emphasizes the characters' confusion. Bier uses a palette of dark tones to express the emotions buried inside them. The three protagonists act and react in primal ways, and the predominance of deep browns, reds, and blacks reflect the raw nature of their interior lives. Only when Michael can finally reveal his darkest secret does the image gain a bright cast, a lovely pink glow that could have come from a Douglas Sirk film. Contrary to convention, Bier cuts from close-up to long shot during Michael's confession. After spending nearly two hours up close with these people, there is no need to see their faces. We know what his admission means.

And now for something completely different...

Probably the hottest title we're showing at the festival is THE ARISTOCRATS. A near-capacity crowd, some of which were already wound up from seeing Jon Stewart in concert at the Palace Theatre, showed up for the Midwest premiere. Rumors had been flying all day that Stewart, who is briefly in the film, would attend the screening. He didn't but the film's co-director Paul Provenza was here to introduce the picture and participate in a post-film Q&A.

In Provenza and Penn Jillette's documentary THE ARISTOCRATS nearly a hundred comedians talk about or put their spin on a dirty joke that has made the rounds among comics for years. The film boasts a who's who of funny people: Drew Carey, George Carlin, Whoopi Goldberg, Gilbert Gottfried, Chris Rock, Sarah Silverman, Robin Williams, Stephen Wright, and a whole lot more. Shot over four years on the street, in the homes and offices of comedians, and backstage at clubs, THE ARISTOCRATS compiles a verbal history of a joke so nasty that it has to be passed along.

The joke, which has roots in vaudeville, centers around a man who goes to a talent agent in hopes of getting his family act booked. Their performance contains all things scatological and sexual and then some. The agent asks what the name of the act is, and the man responds, "The Aristocrats."

Many of the comedians admit that they don't think it's a very good joke or, at least, that the punchline is lacking. The humor comes from the joke teller's improvisational ability and the one-upsmanship that it encourages.

It's an understatement to say that THE ARISTOCRATS is not for those with delicate sensibilities. Although it has no objectionable content except for language--but oh, what an exception!--the film's a cinch for an NC-17 rating from the MPAA. (Rather than deal with the logistical headaches that rating brings, ThinkFilm will be releasing it unrated this summer.)

THE ARISTOCRATS is an unrepentantly filthy movie...and a very funny one. Frequently I'm not enthusiastic about this kind of humor, but the creativity and escalating outrageousness the comedians put into the joke is something to behold. The joke allows comedians to show off their unique skills and artistry while saying things that would make the roughest sailors blush.

Provenza and Jillette include versions that run the gamut from the tame, relatively speaking, to the foulest imaginable (and worse) and the verbose to the word-free. It's impossible to remember who tells the joke best, but two of the most memorable performances include a mime telling the joke on the street--that he's wearing a wireless mic pack may be funnier than anything--and a SOUTH PARK rendition.

THE ARISTOCRATS has shown at just four places in the country--Sundance and South x Southwest among them--and as such does not have a 35mm print yet available. We showed it on Beta SP. While I'm not crazy about projected video, it looked good enough. I don't think anyone else minded either as it went over extremely well with the raucous crowd.

I had hoped to share a couple photos I snapped of Provenza in front of the Deep Focus Film Fest audience, but the front of the theater was so dark that you can't see him.

Kingdom of Heaven

KINGDOM OF HEAVEN (Ridley Scott, 2005)

In search of forgiveness for his deceased wife and his sins, French blacksmith Balian (Orlando Bloom), the bastard son of Godfrey, the Baron of Ibelin (Liam Neeson), treks to 12 century Jerusalem. An unlikely hero commanded to help the helpless and do no wrong, Balian rises to protect Jerusalem’s people during the Crusades in Ridley Scott's KINGDOM OF HEAVEN. Under the rule of leper king Baldwin (Edward Norton, unrecognizable behind a silver mask), holy land Christians and Muslims coexist in relative harmony, although Baldwin’s failing health and the ascension of his presumed successor, brother-in-law Guy de Lusignan (Marton Csokas), portend much bloodshed in the name of God.

While Bloom does not fit the action hero mold or possess the gravitas of Russell Crowe, the vengeance-seeking protagonist of Scott’s GLADIATOR, those qualities aren’t essential to his character. He’s credible swinging a sword, but the reluctant warrior Balian wields his weapon only when circumstances demand he fight. Supporting cast members Jeremy Irons, Brendan Gleeson, David Thewlis, and Neeson lend their iconic presences to this history lesson. THE DREAMERS’ Eva Green, here as the princess Sibylla, is relegated to a brief, obligatory love scene and little else.

Like Balian, KINGDOM OF HEAVEN doesn’t take sides in the holy conflict, a tactic that allows Scott and screenwriter William Monahan to depict ideological warfare without inflaming believers of either faith. The assault on and defense of Jerusalem, the film’s tour de force action sequence, concludes with a God’s eye view of the intermingled corpses of Christian and Muslim men, leaving an indelible impression of the price paid when any religion is twisted in pursuit of political and monetary gain. The somber KINGDOM may not provide an epic’s anticipated escapism, but it serves as a salient reminder that hundreds of years later these battles are still being waged.

Grade: B-

Deep Focus Film Fest: Opening Night

It's here!

Tonight the Deep Focus Film Fest--"Columbus' first festival of great independent film", as the program proclaims--began. For the last few years I've felt that the area needed and could support a film festival of some kind, but I didn't have the wherewithal to jumpstart it. When Melissa Starker asked if I'd be interested in helping program a nascent festival, I leapt at the opportunity. This evening's gala premiere was the first chance for those of us involved to see the dream that we wanted to make into a reality.

Befitting the city, the premiere was a modest affair. No red carpet, no high security afterparty populated by socialites seeking to be spotted, just a very good film and a small gala party at the Red Star Tavern, a short walk from the Arena Grand Theatre.

Shorts by local filmmakers will precede films at some festival screenings. Cara King's LAST DAY provided a smile to start the proceedings. A simple, impressionist reminder to live in the moment, scored to The Beatles' "Good Night", tied in well with the opening night feature OFF THE MAP. Campbell Scott's film takes time to breathe, to savor the present and not get bogged down in all the little things that often dominate our attention.

OFF THE MAP focuses on the Groden family, who lead fulfilling lives peacefully, simply, and together in the desert outside Taos, New Mexico. They don't have electricity or a telephone and don't need them. The Grodens can get just about anything they need from the land. What nature doesn't provide, the junkyard does. They’re a creative and resourceful bunch. For instance, whip-smart eleven-year-old Bo (Valentina de Angelis) keeps a steady stream of free snacks flowing into their household by writing carefully worded letters of consumer dissatisfaction to food manufacturers.

OFF THE MAP takes place during a pivotal summertime for the family. Bo’s desire to be less separated from society becomes more pronounced. Her mother Arlene (Joan Allen) struggles to alleviate husband Charley’s (Sam Elliott) deep depression. Since the Grodens get by on less than five thousand dollars annually, money amassed through Charley’s veteran’s benefits and the sale of preserves and honey, they haven’t filed a tax return in years, which brings IRS employee William Gibbs (Jim True-Frost) to their door.

William’s arrival delivers two shocks to his system: the sight of Arlene naked in the garden and a bee sting that lays him out for days. Upon his recovery, William decides to take up residence with the Grodens and follow a path more satisfactory than tax collection.

OFF THE MAP’S rhythms are slower than those to which we’re accustomed in our daily lives and in most films, so it takes some time to adjust. The experience of adapting to a less hurried pace reminded me of easing into SPRING, SUMMER, FALL, WINTER…AND SPRING and shedding the tension of modern life. Both films utilize stunning locales that showcase nature’s beauty and permanence to enhance the effect. In OFF THE MAP Juan Ruiz Anchía’s sun-soaked cinematography and Scott’s unpretentious direction capture the spirit of the land.

OFF THE MAP’S plot, what little of it there is, unwinds gradually. Screenwriter Joan Ackermann adapted the script from her own play, yet the narrative approach is more akin to what’s found in a novel than a film or theatrical production. While few allusions are made to the characters’ backgrounds and their futures are essentially unknown, there’s a strong sense of what is behind these people and what is to come, as if the film plucked its story from the middle of a larger work. Near the film’s end past and future are elegantly merged in a slow dissolve, like a pinhole camera photograph that has taken years to develop, that shows the family by the road.

OFF THE MAP isn’t concerned with the characters’ destinations but how they manage day to day. The tactic permits the film to contain many scenes that would ordinarily be omitted but which make for some of OFF THE MAP’S most pleasurable moments. In one scene, Arlene is working on a car and asks William for a wrench. The camera pans to show that William has walked away to look at the horizon and absorb the view. Scott lets the camera linger there and be awestruck with the natural wonder. Instances such as this reveal more about the characters and reasons for their actions than long monologues and dialogues could. Charley is a man of few words, literally. When he walks a long way to see his friend George (J.K. Simmons), he doesn’t need to say a thing to be understood, although their talk and Charley’s unusual request add some appreciated levity. Unadorned talk also holds true when Arlene approaches Bo about a letter she wrote to an advice columnist. It isn’t an enormous crisis that leads to a long conversation but an issue mother and daughter will sort out as part of their daily routine, in this case, after cleaning and skinning a bear. The cast’s quiet, earthy performances imbue the film with calmness and grace.

OFF THE MAP proved to be a wonderful choice to open the festival, especially the first one. It sets a high level for the artistic quality of the fest’s selections and challenges the audience with something a little different while remaining accessible.


The afterparty at Red Star Tavern

After the film most attendees dropped by the opening night party for free appetizers and drinks. In keeping with the artist in OFF THE MAP, a raffle was held to have one’s personal portrait painted by local artist Linda Gall.

Before the film and at the afterparty I ran into Harold “Happy” Chichester. When I was in college I brought him and his band Howlin’ Maggie to Otterbein for one of my radio shows and added them into the music rotation before they had signed a record deal. Howlin’ Maggie is no more, but Happy told me that he will soon be taping a World Café appearance and is working on finishing a solo album. More details are sure to come at his website.

Of course, there was also a lot of film talk, whether with my NOW PLAYING co-host Paul Markoff and his wife or festival co-programmers Melissa Starker and Chris Stults. The first day turned out well, and I’m hopeful that the rest of the festival will get even better.

Update

I know, I know, it's been slow going around here the past week. I've been seeing films out the proverbial wazoo and working on some other stuff that will eventually make its way to this humble blog.

The Deep Focus Film Fest starts tonight, so that'll eat up most of the weekend. Still, I'll try to make updates if time permits. If you're in town and not going to the festival--and why not?--then head over to the Wexner Center and see IN THE REALMS OF THE UNREAL and Wong Kar-wai's DAYS OF BEING WILD. I'd like to see both. It pains me to miss the latter, although the availability of a new DVD takes out some of the sting.

When I get back from tonight's gala premiere, OFF THE MAP, I'll post my review of KINGDOM OF HEAVEN. Now that I'm linked on Rotten Tomatoes, I figure I should be on my best behavior to keep the Review Embargo Enforcers appeased lest they extract my fingernails with pliers for letting an analytical word escape prior to opening day.