The Innkeepers

THE INNKEEPERS (Ti West, 2011)

The Yankee Pedlar Inn, first opened in 1891, prepares to shutter its doors for good after one final weekend of accommodating guests in THE INNKEEPERS.   For these last days Claire (Sara Paxton) and Luke (Pat Healy), the two remaining employees, have moved in to keep each other company while working twelve-hour shifts at the front desk and hunting for ghosts rumored to walk the hotel’s halls.  With a mother and child and washed up actress Leanne Rease-Jones (Kelly McGillis) the only ones checked in, they have plenty of time to search for the supernatural.

Luke maintains a primitive website about The Yankee Pedlar Inn, which is purported to be one of the most haunted hotels in New England.  Its notorious reputation stems from a story long ago of Madeline O’Malley, a guest who hung herself after her fiancé stood her up on her wedding day.  Wishing to avoid bad publicity, the owners hid her body in the wood cellar for three days.  The scandal eventually came to light, forcing the sale and long-term closure of the property and leading to talk of Madeline haunting the inn.

Although not up to the high standard of writer-director Ti West’s previous film THE HOUSE OF THE DEVIL, THE INNKEEPERS is another often chilling exercise in building mood and atmosphere.  In contrast to many of his contemporaries, West favors something that might be dubbed slow horror, which relies on spinning spooky tales and employing long takes and wide shots.  West isn’t concerned so much with what he shows to raise the tension but instead builds suggestibility.  The pleasure is found in the anticipation of something awful happening, not being jarred by specters popping out of unsuspected places.  Compared to films with more aggressive jolt delivery systems, West wrings greater suspense out of otherwise banal scenes of Claire inspecting a noise coming from the cellar and sitting in an empty room while listening over headphones to the shotgun microphone connected to a tape recorder. 

When THE INNKEEPERS does include jump moments, they’re usually played for laughs.  It is an uncommonly funny film within the framework of traditional horror, but it feels appropriate considering the lighthearted tone foregrounded in Claire and Luke’s complementary work relationship and easygoing friendship.  Paxton and Healy exhibit pleasing chemistry as their characters try to pass the uneventful hours on the job. While Claire is the one sensed to be in the most danger, Paxton turns in a delightful comedic performance rooted in her posture and overall comportment.  Her awkwardness witnessed in interactions with guests and hilariously dragging trash to the dumpster is what makes her so endearing and the most vulnerable to whatever malevolent forces may be present.

At the core of THE INNKEEPERS is the question of if it is preferable to be haunted by ghosts or the prospect of a dead end future.  Both fears are potentially magnified within one’s mind rather than being tangible threats and are likely to become overwhelming if fixated on.  The damage these worries cause are proportional to how suggestible one is to accepting them as fate.  It’s easy to be frightened of the invisible or interpret random events as menacing if uncertainty is automatically assigned negative attributes.  

Reflecting on the thematic thrust of THE INNKEEPERS helps to compensate for a generally lackluster ending that satisfies more as a metaphor than a conclusion to the story.  The apprehension that sends a surge of nervous energy through the lengthy build-up dissipates when an answer, no matter how terrible it might be, can’t meet expectations.  That minor disappointment aside, West again shows that he’s one of the more exciting filmmakers working in the genre.

Grade: B

The House of the Devil

THE HOUSE OF THE DEVIL (Ti West, 2009)

College sophomore Samantha (Jocelin Donahue) has tired of living in the dorm with a slovenly, inconsiderate roommate and decides to look for her own place.  She finds a perfect apartment but needs to round up the funds to secure it.  On campus she spots a flyer requesting a babysitter and arranges to take the job on the night of a lunar eclipse.

Soon after arriving at the stately house deep in the countryside Samantha learns that she’s been brought there under false pretenses.  Mr. Ulman (Tom Noonan), an exceedingly polite older man, explains that it is not a child she is to oversee but an elderly woman who will probably stay holed up in her room.  He apologizes for misrepresenting the situation and makes up for it by agreeing to pay $400 for four hours of work.  

Samantha is aware that something is amiss in this arrangement, but the money will more than cover her first month’s rent.  How can she turn that down?  Her friend Megan (Greta Gerwig) pleads for her to leave, as surely this offer is too good to be true, but Samantha is steadfast and settles in as her friend and the couple who hired her depart.

Media reports and urban legends of Satanism and Satanic ritual abuse were widespread in the 1980s.  That’s one of the reasons why writer-director Ti West has chosen that decade as the setting for THE HOUSE OF THE DEVIL.  The film opens with presumably spurious numbers for the high percentage of people who believed that devil worship and Satanic rituals were a problem at the time.  Whether or not Samantha puts stock in such reports, they’re likely to be in the back of her mind while alone in a creepy house.  Having been less than upfront about the job, Mr. Ulman suggests as much when making an oblique reference to those rumors and for his prospective hire’s need to be careful while he tries to put Samantha at ease.

The time period is also important because West is interested in exploring that era’s horror film style.  Although the camerawork and longer takes are not techniques exclusive to ‘80s fright fests--HALLOWEEN and ROSEMARY’S BABY seem like reference points too--a distinctly retro approach marks THE HOUSE OF THE DEVIL as quite different from its contemporaries.  First and foremost, West masterfully sustains suspense as Samantha explores the home and gradually becomes worried that she is in danger.  The unsettling tone lingers heavily in the air and is all the more potent because the payoff is withheld until very late.

Donahue is effective as a stressed out coed who makes a regrettable but understandable decision.  The casualness of her performance, most visible as she dances around the house listening to The Fixx, grounds the film and keeps it stabilized even when what transpires becomes more unhinged from a typical night of caretaking. The restraint in performance extends to the others as well.  Gerwig’s amusing turn as the more rebellious friend turned voice of reason reflects how someone might respond in these circumstances than how a horror movie character would behave.  Like a spider spinning a trap, Noonan’s meek and eerie portrayal chills because of how he effortlessly he captures his prey.

THE HOUSE OF THE DEVIL mimics the aesthetics of ‘80s horror films, but this is no mere case of imitative homage.  Laden with dread and executed with a musician’s sense of timing, THE HOUSE OF THE DEVIL is better than a substantial number of the films it resembles.

Grade: A-

The Dictator

THE DICTATOR (Larry Charles, 2012)

With the tyrannical leader in THE DICTATOR pushing for his country to develop a nuclear energy program, the fictional North African nation Wadiya could be the region’s next target of United Nations sanctions and military intervention.  Admiral General Aladeen (Sacha Baron Cohen) insists that such technology would be employed for peaceful purposes.  His giddy denial that nuclear power would absolutely, positively not be used to bomb his hated enemy Israel hardly eases international concerns.

Aladeen travels to New York City to address the UN but soon finds himself on the outside looking in.  Aladeen’s trusted adviser Tamir (Ben Kingsley) arranges for his abduction and murder.  While the magnificently bearded ruler manages to escape from his captor, Aladeen emerges from a literal close shave that renders him unrecognizable as the Wadiyan dictator.  With Aladeen missing and presumed dead, Tamir replaces him with a simpleton look-alike who promises the world community that he will draft a constitution and make Wadiya a democracy.  Tamir will then be free to sell the drilling rights to the country’s highly coveted oil fields, which Aladeen has refused to do.  

When Aladeen makes a scene at a protest, Zoey (Anna Faris) mistakes him for a fellow activist and a political dissident.  Zoey clothes the bedraggled monarch and offers him a job at her Brooklyn co-op.  He initially rejects her offer but accepts after learning that her business is catering the Wadiyan constitution signing ceremony that he hopes to disrupt.  

Baron Cohen’s composite despot changes the language as he sees fit, surrounds himself with female virgin guards, and fills his home and nation with artwork bearing his venerated likeness.  The buffoonish Aladeen is a poke in the eyes of past and present world leaders who abuse power and their people.  There’s nothing funny about this dictator’s real life counterparts, but seeing them mocked provides a touch of catharsis, even if the satire is kind of tame.

Aladeen’s hair trigger orders to execute those who anger him provides the film with one of its best running jokes.  Unknown to him, those he condemns to die are shuttled out of the country, a fact he discovers upon entering an anti-Aladeen restaurant in New York’s Little Wadiya.  Among those who have escaped his wrath are Nadal (Jason Mantzoukas), the former head of his nuclear program now working as an Apple Genius, and a cow who earned his ire.  (The cow ends up served as a steak on a plate, but at least it didn’t meet its end as a political victim, right?)

THE DICTATOR is funniest when at its most outrageous.  A decapitated head used as a puppet is a grotesque highlight.  Aladeen’s rampant racist and sexist declarations, as when he delivers a baby and asks for a trash can upon seeing it’s a girl, bring the edge to Baron Cohen’s style, which seeks to risk, if not welcome, the chance to offend viewers.  He’s most likely to bruise sensibilities when Aladeen draws equivalence between dictatorship and current American politicians and the financially powerful.  One of the most pointed jokes is presented less furiously but is no less sharp.  Aladeen pays for countless celebrities to come to Wadiya and sleep with him, which brings to mind those entertainers who have been in the proverbial beds with oppressive leaders who give them sizable checks.   

Although a fair number of jokes hit their marks, THE DICTATOR tends to be as comedically erratic as Aladeen’s decision-making.  Baron Cohen, his three credited co-screenwriters, and director Larry Charles take a scattershot approach that produces several successes but leads to an often choppy result.  The burgeoning love story between Aladeen and Zoey offers equal opportunity insults by taking progressives down a few pegs but otherwise is an ill fit with the dark humor.  The danger for Baron Cohen is having made his name as a confrontational comedian but delivering something that, while occasionally provocative, feels too conventional.    

Grade: C+

Dark Shadows

DARK SHADOWS (Tim Burton, 2012)

Barnabas Collins (Johnny Depp), the dashing heir to the family fishing empire, picks the wrong woman to spurn in DARK SHADOWS.  Angelique (Eva Green), a servant at the Collins manor, reacts badly to his decision to break off their romance.  As a witch, she’s more than capable of getting her revenge.  She causes the deaths of Barnabas’ parents and his beloved Josette (Bella Heathcote).  As if that isn’t punishment enough, Angelique turns him into a vampire and then sees to it that he is locked in a buried coffin.

Almost two hundred years later--1972, to be exact--Barnabas is accidentally freed.  He returns to the coastal town of Collinsport, Maine and finds it to be much different than what he knew.  The changes aren’t just technological and societal.  The family estate is in disrepair and inhabited by eight strangers, as is apt to happen when one is gone for nearly two centuries.  Now calling Collinwood Manor home are matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard (Michelle Pfeiffer) and her daughter Carolyn (Chloë Grace Moretz), Elizabeth’s brother Roger (Jonny Lee Miller) and his son David (Gulliver McGrath), the boy’s psychiatrist Dr. Julia Hoffman (Helena Bonham Carter), groundskeeper Willie Loomis (Jackie Earle Haley), maid Mrs. Johnson (Ray Shirley), and newly arrived governess Victoria Winters (Heathcote), who bears a marked resemblance to the love of Barnabas’ lifetime.

Elizabeth is the only one who knows Barnabas’ secrets, so in exchange for being permitted to stay at Collinwood, he promises not to indulge his vampiric impulses on anyone living there.  Barnabas then settles in to restore the family business to its former glory only to realize that the competition is headed by the very woman who cursed him so many years ago.  She’s going by the name Angel now and is a pillar of the community.  Worst of all, her desire to call Barnabas hers has not abated.

From 1966 to 1971 the soap opera DARK SHADOWS ran for more than 1200 episodes.  With so much material to choose from and only 113 minutes to fill, director Tim Burton’s film is best described as being based on the TV show rather than a remake of it, although screenwriter Seth Grahame-Smith does his best to shove as much plot in as possible.  DARK SHADOWS has a lot to establish and does so with clarity, but it feels like half of the film is prologue.  (Ironically, the opening scenes in the mid-1700s are efficient in setting up Barnabas and his eternal dilemma.)  Once everything is finally laid out, the narrative struggles to gain momentum.  

DARK SHADOWS gets stuck in neutral because of the uncertainty as to what kind of a film it wants to be.  In keeping with its soap opera roots, it overflows with doomed romanticism and heightened drama.  Long stretches pass in which events and relationships are treated as being deadly serious.  Not enough is invested in these characters, though, to feel the big emotional scale DARK SHADOWS wishes to pull off.

Complicating matters is that the film is also intended to be a comedy.  Burton appears more at ease in acknowledging the ridiculous elements of the story and simply having fun with the supernatural twists and turns.  Depp handles his role with composure and sufficient restraint, making him a humorously refined but still lethal bloodsucker.  Sinking her teeth into the villain role, Green charges her scenes with Depp with sex, danger, and playfulness that the rest of the film resists.  For all of the good these two leads do, the jokes in DARK SHADOWS mostly consist of easy targets related to Barnabas’ puzzlement by modernity.  Director and screenwriter settle for arriving at the mildly amusing when the obvious destination is camp territory.  

The production and art design and Colleen Atwood’s costumes help Burton create a familiar but no less dazzling gloomy world.  Visual effects are put to spectacular use when Green’s skin looks like cracked eggshell.  Burton has lavished a lot of attention on the surface and it shows.  No matter how good it looks, DARK SHADOWS is missing a soul and a heart despite no lack of wanting them.     

Grade: C-

The Five-Year Engagement

THE FIVE-YEAR ENGAGEMENT (Nicholas Stoller, 2012)

Tom Solomon (Jason Segel) and Violet Barnes (Emily Blunt) are ready to get married, but life circumstances have a way of delaying their plans in THE FIVE-YEAR ENGAGEMENT. The San Francisco-residing lovebirds put their matrimonial designs on hold when she gets accepted into the University of Michigan’s graduate school but not the one at nearby University of California, Berkeley.  Facing imminent relocation to Ann Arbor for two years, they don’t have the time to pull together a wedding.

Tom quits his job as a sous chef so they can remain together.  He supports Violet pursuing her career in psychology and academia, although the sacrifice stings a bit more when it is followed with the knowledge that he was about to receive the chance to run a restaurant.  While he’s disappointed to miss out on the opportunity, he expects not to have any problems finding work in Michigan.

The Midwest proves not to be as hospitable as he imagined it, though.  Cooking jobs, especially at the compensation rate to which he’s accustomed, are virtually nonexistent.  He lands employment at a wildly popular delicatessen, but making sandwiches isn’t what Tom envisioned for himself.  The cold, snowy winters aren’t much to his liking either.  While Violet thrives, Tom descends into a funk that deepens when it appears their stay in Ann Arbor will be longer than anticipated.

The title of THE FIVE-YEAR ENGAGEMENT incorrectly suggests that the tension between Tom and Violet stems from the obstructions keeping them from the altar.  While their families and friends are perturbed by the seemingly perpetual postponements, these two act unaffected by their inability to become legally joined.  They behave as a committed couple and present themselves to others as such.  All they lack is the paperwork.

No, the widening rift in the relationship comedy comes from Tom feeling Violet may not fully appreciate what he is forgoing for her benefit while she is frustrated that he won’t communicate sufficiently with her about his dissatisfaction.  THE FIVE-YEAR ENGAGEMENT is most successful when focusing on the two of them together fending off the pressures others would put on their decisions.  The more it drifts from Tom and Violet’s front, whether it’s united or not, the more it becomes sidetracked with subplots and characters of little consequence.  Some of these scenic diversions, like Violet’s professor Winton (Rhys Ifans) trying to explain the proper pronunciation of his dog’s name, add amusing observational humor to the mix.  Director Nicholas Stoller, who co-wrote the screenplay with Segel, includes a preponderance of not unwelcome but unnecessary scenes that the background begins to squeeze out the main story.

Inevitably Tom and Violet’s journey as a couple reaches a critical juncture where they must determine how or if to clear a path out of the thicket blocking them.  To this point THE FIVE-YEAR ENGAGEMENT has fancied itself more levelheaded and emotionally realistic than similar films and deserves such a designation, but then it loses all of the accrued goodwill. The characters seem halfhearted in following the prescribed plot mechanics, yet they behave as the genre says they must.  That’s not to say the people in these films aren’t permitted to make dumb or bad decisions, just that they need to develop organically.  THE FIVE-YEAR ENGAGEMENT eventually rallies from these big missteps, but the damage can’t quite be repaired in full.  That goes double for much of the unfunny and lazy vulgarity decorating the film.

Segel and Blunt come across believably as a loving couple struggling to balance challenges in their long-range plans and usually trying their best to resolve them.  As Tom’s best friend Alex and Violet’s sister Suzie, Chris Pratt and Alison Brie provide a funny counterexample.  Pratt, who’s in the habit of stealing scenes on TV’s PARKS AND RECREATION, provokes laughter with his belief in saying what he thinks no matter how stupid or insensitive it might sounds.  Alex represents an exaggerated standard of how to talk in a relationship, but his directness isn’t entirely a bad idea.  Brie reacts to his idiocy with a mixture of affection and disapproval that shows these two have figured out how to talk.  (She also shares a standout scene with Blunt in which they conduct a serious conversation in Elmo and Cookie Monster voices.)

Like life, THE FIVE-YEAR ENGAGEMENT can be messy and irrational.  The shame is that the film doesn’t need to be those things quite to the degrees that they are.

Grade: C+

Miss Bala

MISS BALA (Gerardo Naranjo, 2011)

Through no fault of her own Laura Guerrero (Stephanie Sigman) gets mixed up in the Mexican drug war in MISS BALA.  The young woman from the outskirts of Tijuana is in the city to sign up for the Miss Baja California pageant.  Later that night she and her friend Suzu (Lakshmi Picazo) are at a club when members of a criminal organization slip in and shoot up the place.

Laura escapes but loses track of Suzu in the melee.  While looking for her the next day, Laura again crosses paths with the drug gang known as La Estrella and its fearsome leader Lino Valdez (Noe Fernandez).  Rather than kill her, Lino forces Laura to participate in their illegal activities.

Statistics shown before the end credits claim more than 36,000 lives have been lost in Mexico during the drug war from 2006 to 2011 and that drug trafficking generates $25 billion annually there.  Director and co-writer Gerardo Naranjo’s film bristles with anger at the toll this situation is having upon the country and its ordinary citizens, and MISS BALA manifests the fury in its blunt dramatization of real life.  This impassioned political work aims to persuade through on-the-ground reporting about the rampant corruption and straw men in the war on drugs rather than with sloganeering.

The depicted events could easily be the basis for a slick Hollywood action film.  Instead Naranjo numbs sensation to make his points about the drug war’s damage to Mexico, turning MISS BALA into a thriller from the dissociative first person perspective.  Laura endures as though she’s having an out of body experience in a waking nightmare.  The mildly disorienting sound design emphasizes that everything she sees, does, and has done to her seems unreal and yet her experiences are horrifyingly all too real.  

Naranjo’s use of negative space in constructing the chaotic border town is MISS BALA’s greatest achievement.  Visually the unsettledness of a Tijuana ruled by criminals is conveyed with key information glimpsed in reflections, suggested beyond Laura’s view, and dropped into exceptionally composed long, unbroken shots.  The back of Laura’s head often faces the camera, yet even with a wide frame the world feels like it’s closing in on her.

Laura’s motivations aren’t always readable in Sigman’s performance, but the protagonist’s opinions are less essential than the one quality the actress ferociously exhibits.  Sigman invests Laura with a survival instinct that supersedes whatever objections she might possess as an unwilling participant in the gang’s dealings.  MISS BALA is loosely based on beauty pageant winner Laura Zúñiga, who was linked to a drug cartel and arrested and detained along with other members in 2008.  Just like beauty queens represent their countries, the film’s version of Laura stands in for the Mexican population.  Sigman is no mere symbol of those put-upon bystanders, though, but a specific reminder of the suffering innocents. 

MISS BALA delivers many aesthetic thrills, including the club ambush and a shootout under an overpass, but Naranjo is using the form to call attention to the harsh truth that the battles on view do not only exist in a movie.  It also proves to be a riveting way of telling the story and transmitting the message most effectively. 

Grade: B

Damsels in Distress

DAMSELS IN DISTRESS (Whit Stillman, 2011)

To refer to a film’s olfactory properties is ordinarily associated with expressing one’s displeasure, but to do so in regard to DAMSELS IN DISTRESS is to praise this cinematic aromatherapy’s mood-lifting qualities.  Its light, sweet notes provide a soothing atmosphere for writer-director Whit Stillman’s return after a thirteen-year absence.

DAMSELS’ soap-sniffing protagonist Violet (Greta Gerwig) would certainly approve of scent-related praise.  Violet and her friends Rose (Megalyn Echikunwoke) and Heather (Carrie MacLemore) are, depending who one asks, Seven Oaks University’s selfless suicide prevention center volunteers or the campus do-gooders.  These dutiful young women are vigilant in offering assistance in the form of coffee, donuts, and tap dancing to those in need, be they clinically depressed or merely malodorous.

At the beginning of a new academic year the trio pulls sophomore transfer student Lily (Analeigh Tipton) into their fold.  Violet, Rose, and Heather invite her to become their roommate and to join in their charitable work.  Lily is pleased to gain such nice and altruistic friends so quickly, although it soon becomes apparent that they require help as much as anyone.

British-accented Rose is quick to loose sharp, stinging assessments of the untoward motivations she assigns to the school’s male population.  Dimwitted Heather is hopelessly naïve.  Then there’s Violet, whose exceptional verbal dexterity and magnanimity mask a deep pathology.  She touts the virtues of dating losers, a renewable resource at Seven Oaks, and envisions her greatest possible achievement as creating an international dance craze.  Violet can be quite convincing in her convictions--never let it be said that she does not practice what she preaches--but cracks appear in her carefully maintained surface upon discovering doofus Roman-letter fraternity boyfriend Frank (Ryan Metcalf) cheating on her.

Stillman densely packs DAMSELS IN DISTRESS with trademark witticisms that dissect social constructs and challenge conventional wisdom.  Who else but the filmmaker who strived to rehabilitate the image of disco would have Violet vigorously defend topics as wide-ranging as the received wisdom in clichés and the civil, if not fundamental, gesture that is a stranger sending drinks to a table, let alone make the cases so eloquently?  Stillman likes to play with language and savor the art of conversation, yet he never leaves the impression that his zingers are merely tricks of forensics.  For his characters choosing the proper words can be as much of a moral act as the customs discussed.  Stillman’s polite, heady humor is given to wry smiles and low chuckles than explosive laughter, but the modesty of the jokes makes them no less funny than those more insistent in eliciting the desired reaction.

While the dialogue easily identifies DAMSELS IN DISTRESS as Stillman’s work, the broad humor and vaguely surreal tone mark it as something of a departure.  Undergrads often try on different personas because they’ve been afforded the freedom and because they’re searching to find what suits them.  Whether Stillman is likewise dabbling for the sake of dabbling or seeking to expand his repertoire, his inimitably refined take on the boisterous college comedy pays off not only with highbrow repartee but also with sight gags and lowbrow quips.  His facility with cultivated humor is to be expected.  That mentions of Catharism and lexical tiptoeing also manifest in what is probably the crudest joke in his oeuvre is not.

Gerwig delights to no end playing a character who is able to incorporate her peculiarities into a framework of propriety, service, piety, and delusion that is strangely functional for Violet and her circle.  She handles the dialogue with aplomb, rattling off Violet’s belief system as if reciting from a catechism in a conversational voice while bending the ideology as inconsistencies with her behavior are pointed out.  Gerwig’s guileless performance endears even as it reveals the disorder behind her naked sincerity.

Late in DAMSELS IN DISTRESS Violet says, “I adore optimism when it’s completely absurd, perhaps especially then.”  For all of the confused and stupid people inhabiting his film--everyone, in other words--the generosity of spirit Stillman displays for them is paramount.  Flawed though they are, their enthusiasm and resilience in the face of setbacks reflect their inherent decency and worthiness.  To be happy or optimistic is a choice, maybe one in opposition to the evidence.  DAMSELS IN DISTRESS sets its targets on lightness and hope and transfers those attributes to those receptive to the message.  Life may not be an extended dance scene from a 1930s Hollywood musical, but wouldn’t it be wonderful to find a partner, kick up one’s heels, and treat it as though it were?

Grade: A

Ebertfest 2012: Day 3

Chaz Ebert and Roger Ebert

Whether it’s the selected films or the genial vibe of the event , Roger Ebert’s presence can’t be missed at the festival bearing his name even if he is no longer introducing each movie and conducting every post-film Q&A.  He made his second appearance from the stage this year to lead into the showing of a documentary about a longtime filmmaker friend who experienced his own brush with death.

Ebert’s computer gave voice to some of his words.  His wife Chaz read the rest of a lovely tribute to director Paul Cox.  From introduction through the discussion, the session was an extended feel-good moment, so I’ll try my best not to seem like a crank in writing about the film, which I didn’t care for.

Chaz Ebert, Paul Cox, and festival director Nate Kohn

ON BORROWED TIME is part career overview, part documentation of Cox’s journey from cancer diagnosis to liver transplant.  I’ve not seen much of Cox’s work, but what I am familiar with hasn’t particularly won me over.  An abundance of shots and scenes from his oeuvre are regularly dropped into the documentary, but free of their contexts and with my rudimentary knowledge of his films, it looks like so much indistinguishable b-roll.  I’ll allow that, to some degree, this is my problem more than it is the film’s.

Watching this clip show and hearing people friends and collaborators attest to his abilities yielded the similar effect of taking in a concert film featuring a band whose greatness is, at best, something I’m not convinced of, and, at worst, something I question.  No matter how accomplished the final product might be, if the basic content isn’t engaging, it doesn’t matter how eloquently it’s delivered.

I want to be clear about my ignorance of Cox’s overall body of work and biases formed based on what I have seen.  I don’t think ON BORROWED TIME is a particularly good entry point for someone in my position.  It goes without saying that those with affection for the director’s films will take more away from this than I did, but that cuts straight to my issue with the documentary.  It’s for those already in the club, not those who need to be persuaded or educated.

I suppose it points out the positive environment fostered at Ebertfest if I feel as though I must be apologetic for disliking a film.  Then again, Cox means a lot to Ebert and went through a serious health situation, so in this instance it seems like I’m being a bit rude.  So it goes, I guess.

David Poland, The Alloy Orchestra's Ken Winokur and Terry Donahue, and David Bordwell

I’ll have no such problem praising The Alloy Orchestra, which has performed at almost every Ebertfest.  The three-piece band’s accompaniment to a silent film is an annual highlight, and this year is no different.  Rather than playing with one feature, they presented their WILD AND WEIRD program of short films from 1906 to 1928. (Some of the dates I’m listing with these films conflict with the information on The Alloy Orchestra’s website.  I’ve cross-referenced with the Internet Movie Database and Wikipedia, but who knows which source is most accurate.)

The program consisted of:

-DREAM OF A RAREBIT FIEND (Wallace McCutcheon and Edwin S. Porter, 1906)
-THE RED SPECTRE (LA SPECTRE ROUGE) (Segundo de Chomón and Ferdinand Zecca, 1907)
-THE ACROBATIC FLY (F. Percy Smtih, 1910)
-THE THIEVING HAND (J. Stuart Blackton, 1908)
-PRINCESS NICOTINE; OR, THE SMOKE FAIRY (J. Stuart Blackton, 1909)
-ARTHÈME SWALLOWS HIS CLARINET (ARTHÈME AVALE SA CLARINETTE) (Ernest Servaès, 1912)
-THE CAMERAMAN’S REVENGE (MEST KINEMATOGRAFICHESKOGO OPERATORA) (Wladyslaw Starewicz, 1912)
-DREAM OF A RAREBIT FIEND: THE PET (Winsor McCay, 1921)
-FILMSTUDIE (Hans Richter, 1926) (with poetry by Hugo Ball)
-THE LIFE AND DEATH OF 9413, A HOLLYWOOD EXTRA (Robert Florey and Slavko Vorkapich, 1928)

Early cinema is a big blind spot for me, so it was a treat to see these highly imaginative and inventive shorts often experimenting with special effects and animation.  Among my favorites was the comedy ARTHÈME SWALLOWS HIS CLARINET is built upon an accident that results in an unfortunate musician having his instrument pushed through the back of his skull.  Think of star Ernest Servaès as a proto-Steve Martin with an arrow through his head.  The stop-motion animated THE CAMERAMAN’S REVENGE is a sophisticated parody of melodramas in which a restless beetle couple have extramarital affairs and run afoul of a camera-wielding grasshopper.  The short amazes with the personality given to the insects. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF 9413, A HOLLYWOOD EXTRA is a visually striking criticism of a system that chews up and spits out aspiring stars.  Surely Guy Maddin, a past Ebertfest guest, would go crazy for it if he hasn't seen it.  (Fun fact: Gregg Toland photographed it.)  As a whole, the WILD AND WEIRD program served as a fun introduction to this time in cinema history.

Nell Minnow, Omer Mozaffar, Paul Cox, and Michael Barker

Sony Pictures Classics co-president Michael Barker is a regular Ebertfest guest and is here with three films this year.  His introduction to A SEPARATION, in which he described it as a perfect film, set the bar high.  Having already seen and loved Asghar Farhadi’s film, I was inclined to agree.  (My review is here.)  Seeing it again, I’m convinced that Barker isn’t resorting to hyperbole.  It’s amazing how no moment, shot, or line of dialogue is wasted in A SEPARATION.  If a film can achieve the platonic ideal of perfection, this one has done it.

One line that stuck out to me this time was when Nader corrects his daughter Termeh during a language lesson.  She uses a word that her teacher told her was correct, but Nader argues that “wrong is wrong” and that it does not matter who says otherwise.  (I wish I’d written down the exact line.)  This point gets to the crux of the dispute between the couples and why it spins out of control.  The failure of everyone involved to own up to their mistakes inflames an already volatile matter.

Notes:

-This year’s festival has had a bit of bad luck in terms of invited guests being able to attend.  Patton Oswalt couldn’t make it Thursday.  A SEPARATION star Peyman Moadi was supposed to be in Champaign on Friday, but Barker explained that he’s currently shooting a movie in such a remote part of Iran that they were unable to get in touch with him.

-Each year it’s interesting to discover what improvements have been made to the Virginia Theatre.  This time it’s a renovated men’s restroom.  It is nicer, although I think there’s even less room to maneuver in it now.  Never fear, though.  The best view of Champaign (from the urinals) remains.

-On Opening Night I was pleased that an organist was back at the festival, but unless I’ve missed him, he’s not been present since.

On Borrowed Time (David Bradbury, 2011): C-/40
Wild and Weird program (Various): B+/74
A Separation (Jodaeiye Nader az Simin) (Asghar Farhadi, 2011): A+/100

Ebertfest 2012: Day 2

Group identification played a major role in the second day of Roger Ebert’s Film Festival.  The films examined who one casts one’s lot with (BIG FAN and KINYARWANDA) and what it is like to lack a larger body to be a part of (TERRI).

This was my third time seeing BIG FAN--the first theatrically, for what it’s worth--so I’ll direct you to my review rather than rehash what I wrote a couple years ago.  I will add that Michael Rapaport does a note-perfect turn as the main character’s sports talk radio nemesis.  The irony is that Rapaport’s character and the protagonist might get along like gangbusters if it weren’t for the fact that they root for rival football teams.

Steve Prokopy, Christy Lemire, and Big Fan writer-director Robert Siegel

Such irrational enmity looks dumb to outsiders.  Speaking as a sports fan, it can seem stupid from the inside too, yet I completely understand it, even if I won’t excuse it.  I don’t get as intense as the people in BIG FAN do about their rivalries, but as a Cincinnati Bengals fan, I cannot root for the Cleveland Browns or Pittsburgh Steelers.  Not only do I want to see my chosen team succeed, but I also want to see those particular competitors thoroughly fail.  This goes back practically to the beginning of my fandom.  The Browns haven’t even been much of a threat for ages, but I still desire to see them lose all the time.

David Bordwell, Darren Dean, Ishmael Ntihabose, Deatra Harris, and Kinyarwanda  writer-director Alrick Brown

Shifting from the silly tribalism of sports fans, KINYARWANDA looks at group conflict with much greater consequences.  Writer-director Alrick Brown explores the clash between Rwanda’s Hutu and Tutsi classes and the genocide that resulted.  Brown sketches the story in multiple scenarios that at first seem disconnected but eventually connect in an appeal for forgiveness and healing.

The handsome cinematography and strong sense of passion on the part of the filmmakers make KINYARWANDA a film I wish I could say that I liked more than I did.  It’s a good-looking movie seeking to discover fresh angles on An Important Subject.  In the post-film Q&A Brown came across as thoughtful in his processes and in his aims, but in this instance I think he talks a better game than what made it onto the screen.

KINYARWANDA borrows the worst storytelling impulses of Alejandro González Iñárritu. The vignettes are arranged nonlinearly, but the narrative strategy leads to no greater purpose.  The structure Brown has chosen creates mild confusion that wouldn’t have occurred if he hadn’t shuffled the chronology.  More importantly, the film lacks momentum with its cubist observation of genocide.  In an attempt to make something epic, he’s tied together many scenes that, while inspired by true events, translate as sincere but banal anecdotes.

Terri star Jacob Wysocki, Christy Lemire, and director Azazel Jacobs

Group identification is missing entirely for the title character in TERRI, but it isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  Terri (Jacob Wysocki) seems perfectly comfortable with himself, but life isn’t going to be easy for an obese teenager who wears pajamas to school.  He lives with and cares for his sick uncle (Creed Bratton) and appears to have no friends.

Terri’s tardiness and unconventional dress eventually catches the attention of the assistant principal Mr. Fitzgerald (John C. Reilly).  The administrator goes over the top to seem simpatico with Terri, but his genuine intentions to help can seem false or condescending when Terri realizes that he’s receiving the same treatment that special needs and misfit classmates get.

Wysocki is terrific at creating a unique character who is sensitive, empathetic, unusual, and self-assured, perhaps to a problematic degree.With no one to look out for him, Terri has found what works to get him through each day, although it also means he may be boxing himself into a corner that he won’t be able to get out of.  Wysocki doesn’t play Terri as a weird kid but as a vulnerable one who could use some friends and confidants.

All those descriptions apply to Reilly as Mr. Fitzgerald too.  He’s a total hoot as a school employee trying to pal up to at-risk students.  At first he seems like a hopelessly out-of-touch adult trying to act with it to get through to the kids.  By the end he’s shown to be as susceptible to being the butt of jokes as the students he wants to help, yet his ease in who he is and desire not to let it hold him back truly does make him a good role model and mentor.

As is part of the challenge in coming of age, the difficulty is being able to see beyond oneself or one’s circumstances.  Everything can feel like the biggest deal in the world.  TERRI uses tunnel vision to build these places and times to elicit those teenage feelings.   The strange charm in this funny and heart-rending film comes in how director Azazel Jacobs constructs the hermetic worlds of school, home, and, in the film’s longest and most pivotal scene, one evening of hanging out.

Unlike other festivals, where attendees are scattered around town, Ebertfest builds a community and can feel more like a family reunion.  One of the new traditions is for a group to go out for drinks and karaoke at a nearby bar.  While I haven’t dared to rock the mic either year, it’s been fun to hang out with friends and new acquaintances in this setting.  Moviegoing can be seen as a lone pursuit--and sometimes it is--but for five days in April in this environment it isn’t.

Notes:

-Patton Oswalt was supposed to attend Ebertfest and host a screening of KIND HEARTS AND CORONETS.  His schedule ended up preventing him from coming, although he promised to clear the room to be in Champaign-Urbana next year.

-One improvement made for this year’s Ebertfest: the passes don’t have the sharp edges that they have in years past.  When wearing them in the whipping wind--or even when crossing one’s arms--it always seemed like the passes had the potential to do some slicing.

Big Fan (Robert Siegel, 2009): B-/62
Kinyarwanda (Alrick Brown, 2011): C/46
Terri (Azazel Jacobs, 2011): B/71

Ebertfest 2012: Opening Night

Film festivals can be a great deal of fun, but in my experience there isn’t a lot of laughing at them, at least during the screenings.  The reason why should be eminently clear to anyone who follows reports from the major international festivals or keeps track of year-end awards chatter.  The best and most important filmmakers, and those aspiring to join their ranks, tend to make serious movies about serious subjects, leaving comedies struggling to be included in the programming.

How nice then that the 14th annual Roger Ebert’s Film Festival kicked off with some lighter fare.  The opener was JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO, a romantic comedy that has apparently been in contention to play Ebertfest for a number of years.  Based on a statement in the post-film Q&A, I wonder if the hold-up has been technological, but more on that later.

I saw JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO when it was released in 1990.  I was on a church youth group retreat at a hotel connected to a mall in Piqua, Ohio.  Rather than spending all that time browsing and shopping, I went to the movies.  In fact, I saw two, which may have been the first time I pulled a self-programmed cinematic double feature.  (The other title I saw:  DRIVING MISS DAISY.  That I did this at 16-years-old probably says something why I’m writing about films all these years later.)

If memory serves, I was the only person in the auditorium to see JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO, which would be about right since the film has long been considered a flop.  While I don’t recall seeing John Patrick Shanley’s film in 22 years, I remember liking it.  Seeing it again, I wonder what in the world in it would have spoken to me that age.  This is one weird, ambitious movie that isn’t targeted at someone who wouldn’t have had his driver’s license for long.

Tom Hanks stars as Joe Banks, a chronically ill employee at a gloomy surgical tools company where the workers trudge into the factory like extras in METROPOLIS and the fluorescent lighting sucks the vitality out of the office drones.  At his latest visit to the doctor, Joe is told that his maladies are all in his head.  He’s a hypochondriac.  Well, check that.  There is one exceptionally rare disease that is literally in his head.  Joe has a brain cloud.  He’ll feel fine until this black cranial fog stops his brain function in six months.

Joe quits his job.  Before he can decide what to do with the rest of the brief life he has left, a wealthy superconductor manufacturer named Graynamore (Lloyd Bridges) comes knocking on his door with a ridiculous offer.  He’s trying to complete a business transaction with the natives of an obscure and tiny Polynesian island, but the only thing they want is a volunteer to appease their vengeful god by offering himself as a sacrifice and jumping into their big volcano.  Graynamore figures that since Joe’s on borrowed time, why not go out in a blaze of glory, so to speak, and enjoy the luxuries that the titan of industry will give him in exchange for doing him a solid.  Joe needs little persuasion to agree to the deal.

So, JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO is a comedy about a nub of a man ground down by years of mindless work, made keenly aware of the precious time he’s wasted, and calmly prepared to commit suicide in what will surely be a horrifically painful death.

Somehow Shanley, who wrote and directed, spots the whimsical tone that allows most of the film not to seem as dire as that summary sounds.  The humor is rooted more in fraternal commiseration about workplace drudgeries than in screams from dark nights of the soul.  JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO doesn’t wallow in self-pity but instead uses the scenario for encouragement about the value in even last-ditch self-improvement.

Much credit goes to Hanks,who quickly gets Joe to the fifth stage of grief and adopts a devil-may-care attitude that lets the audience know he’ll be all right even if he does fling himself into a pit of molten lava.  Meg Ryan’s delightful work in three roles also lightens the load.  Ryan displays admirable range as Joe’s ditzy co-worker straight out of the classic screwball era, a brassy femme fatale whose car sports a GOOD GIRL vanity license plate on the front and BAAD GIRL on the rear, and sweet girl next door type who might give Joe a reason to hold onto his remaining days.

JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO features some good laugh lines and the amusing use of deus ex luggage, but the high point is reached when Shanley drives home his message.  The crooked path from the base of the volcano to the mouth rhymes with the one Joe wearily trod to the office for years.  How is going to a job one hates any less harmful than taking the plunge into a volcano?  At least the misery is over faster in the latter scenario.  Joe’s epiphany, that choosing to stay in a longtime rut is no less ruinous than something more actively destructive, provides a lesson of hope, albeit in a strange and mildly unsettling manner.

Pablo Villaca, Christy Lemire, and Joe Versus the Volcano Director of Photography Stephen Goldblatt

When I first noticed that Ebertfest would be digitally screening JOE VERSUS THE VOLCANO, I was a little let down.  That disappointed faded as the film played.  This was an outstanding digital presentation.  According to Director of Photography Stephen Goldblatt, Warner Bros. made the DCP from the negative, perhaps for the festival, because no prints remain.  Could that be why it has taken until now for JOE to reach the Virginia Theatre?

Chaz Ebert, Ali Leroi, Raymond C. Lambert, Phunny Business director John Davies, and Kelechi Ezie 

The night’s second session began with the short THE TRUTH ABOUT BEAUTY & BLOGS.  Written by and starring Kelechi Ezie, the piece feels more like a calling card for the actress--she can write, act, sing, and produce!--than a satisfying standalone work.  It doesn’t help that the short is built around overly familiar jokes about social media and technology.

Following the short was the documentary feature PHUNNY BUSINESS: A BLACK COMEDY.  Ebertfest often has films of local interest.  This one definitely fits that slot, although the archival performance footage of a who’s who of African-American comedians who broke in the 1990s broadens its appeal.

PHUNNY BUSINESS tells the story of All Jokes Aside, a black-owned comedy club on Chicago’s south side.  Anyone who became anyone in the black comedy world came through there and likely owed it a substantial amount of credit for helping their careers.  Jamie Foxx, Bernie Mac, Cedric the Entertainer, and Dave Chappelle are just a few of the recognizable names who performed at All Jokes Aside.

While the comedians have plenty of stories to share, the business side of the venture gets greater attention.  Club co-founder Raymond C. Lambert saw a niche to be served and achieved spectacular results doing so.  Black comedians might get time to practice their craft when clubs gave them one evening a week, usually with “chocolate” appearing in the name of the showcase, but they had nowhere for regular gigs.  Lambert gave them that stage in a neighborhood where their audience was.  All Jokes Aside was very successful for the better part of the ‘90s, but it didn’t last forever, although the film strongly suggests that it might have and should have survived.

PHUNNY BUSINESS is slickly assembled, at times to its own detriment when it gets off-point, and nicely detailed in explaining what made this particular business different and prosperous.  Lambert’s description of the reports he required, the research he did on potential bookings, and the rules he set for comedians illustrate how much more complicated running a comedy club could be if determined to do it properly.

Lambert is an engaging interview subject bursting with intellect and enthusiasm.  His interviews come off as overly rehearsed, but one senses that the kind of preparation he put into the documentary shoot is also what he poured into his business.  It served him well there.  It feels contrived in the film.

Joe Versus the Volcano (John Patrick Shanley, 1990):  B/70
The Truth About Beauty and Blogs (Rosalyn Coleman, 2011): C/48
Phunny Business: A Black Comedy (John Davies, 2010): B-/64

Pre-Ebertfest 2012

I've arrived once again in Champaign, Illinois to attend Roger Ebert's Film Festival, also known as Ebertfest.  This will be my twelfth(!) time attending, which doesn't seem like it's possible, and to the best of my ability, I'll be blogging about it while I'm the Land of Lincoln.

Anyway, I'm here a night early because Patton Oswalt was supposed to be hosting a special screening of KIND HEARTS AND CORONETS at the University of Illinois tonight.  (Oswalt was invited to the festival since BIG FAN is part of this year's lineup.)  I thought that might be a fun thing to do--I've never seen KIND HEARTS--and I liked the idea of easing into the festival rather than rushing into town and then zipping from movies to panels and more movies.  Knowing that I would definitely be here Wednesday through Sunday, I pre-paid for the room on Tuesday night to save a few bucks...and then the screening was moved to a different evening to accommodate Oswalt's schedule.  So here I am in town with nothing to do.

Since I've been busy and thus unable to keep up my standard relentless pace of moviegoing--keep in mind I'm still seeing around four a week in theaters--I figured I'd use the free evening to catch up with a film on my to-see list.  That's certainly a better idea than trying to find something worthwhile on the hotel's basic cable.

I knew the Art Theater was playing THE BATTLESHIP POTEMKIN, but I decided against seeing it because I didn't feel like taking a chance on what the digital presentation might be.  It sounds terrible to say this, but I'd rather watch it at home on Netflix Instant than gamble on paying for something whose A/V quality is an unknown quantity.  If it had been a print, I'd have been there.

Pulling up the listings on the Flixster app revealed two multiplexes within five miles and a drive-in within fifty miles.  That's when, after more than a decade of visiting, I realized how few opportunities the locals have to see much of anything beyond the widely distributed studio films.  (Both theaters were showing everything you'd expect, although one was playing THE RAID: REDEMPTION, which I chose to see since I did a lot of sleep-deprived head-nodding when I saw it at the Toronto International Film Festival's Midnight Madness screening.)

Ebertfest does a lot right, but I'll admit to being a little irritated with the number of invited films that opened within the last six months of the previous year or even this calendar year.  In most cases I've already seen them, and I figure they were probably available theatrically to most festival attendees, not to mention that they can be readily acquired on DVD/Blu-ray/streaming video now.  Granted, I know the festival isn't programmed exclusively for me, but having attended when some harder-to-see titles were booked, it's a little disappointing to have very recent ones dominate the schedule.

Now that I have a better sense of what the moviegoing options are here in Champaign-Urbana, I can set some of that irritation and disappointment aside. While Ebertfest does bring in plenty of people from outside the area, I've always understood the event as a gift to this community.  In my ignorance, I assumed that this university town would get more specialty titles than it appears it does.  So, it's fair enough to pick recent arthouse films to play the festival, even if I'd like to see Ebert reaching back a few more years when making his selections.  I guess there's still something for me to learn about this event after all these years.

The Kid with a Bike (Le gamin au vélo)

THE KID WITH A BIKE (LE GAMIN AU VÉLO) (Jean-Pierre Dardenne and Luc Dardenne, 2011)

Eleven-year-old Cyril Catoul (Thomas Doret) wants two things: to be with his father and to get his bicycle.  In THE KID WITH A BIKE he’s better off investing his emotional attachment with the vehicle.

Cyril’s father Guy (Jérémie Renier) has entrusted him to a children’s home and leaves the boy believing that this will only be a temporary arrangement.  Despite all evidence--lack of contact, a disconnected phone number--Cyril refuses to accept that his dad has abandoned him.  

One day he escapes the institution to go to the apartment they once shared so he can be reunited with his parent.  The landlord insists no one occupies that unit any longer, but Cyril must see for himself.  Shortly after getting inside the building he is confronted by counselors who want to take him back to the home.  

Cyril eludes them and slips into the medical office downstairs.  The officials easily find him, but rather than going quietly and willingly, he causes a scene and tightly grasps Samantha (Cécile de France), a stranger in the waiting room.  Only after he is told that he can see the apartment does Cyril calm down.  When he enters it, there is no father waiting to embrace him.  The empty living space has been cleared of all possessions, including his bike.

The incident touches Samantha.  She buys back Cyril’s bike, which his father sold, and returns it to the boy.  At Cyril’s asking she also agrees to be his foster parent on weekends.  Samantha even arranges a meeting between Cyril and Guy.  When it is apparent that he will continue to give Cyril false hope of being together again, she forces the delinquent dad to be honest about the future and dedicates herself to the wounded child.

Writer-directors Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne possess an extraordinary talent for turning social issue dramas into tense and empathetic thrillers centered on The Golden Rule.  Their films are implicitly religious studies of the moral choices confronting us as individuals and societies, yet they are anything but tedious sermons overflowing with platitudes and simple answers, the likes of which often mark what passes for explicitly Christian cinema.  Instead the Dardennes make gritty modern parables calling for compassion and sacrifice when such support is not easily given by those providing assistance or earned, if it is merited at all, by the recipients.  Like contemporary Jonahs, the Dardennes’ characters are regularly called to do precisely what they would prefer to avoid.  That human struggle gives their films the urgency and heart missing in cozier dramas where paying it forward is as painless as dropping spare change in the Salvation Army’s red kettles.

For Samantha in THE KID WITH A BIKE, the test is what to do about a boy who desperately needs someone to love and care for him.  For little more than a moment Cyril enters her life at random, yet something compels her to reach out to him.  Her motivation is never explained.  Perhaps she couldn’t if she tried.  What matters is that she helps him, not why.  They are brought together at a critical time in his development, and her kindness and generosity, while often rejected, offer the protection Cyril won’t get elsewhere.

Samantha, a single hairdresser who may have taken on more than she anticipated, lives out 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7.  In a marvelous performance rooted in action instead of backstory, de France demonstrates the purity of love and delicately expresses the joy and pain experienced in giving it unconditionally.  Samantha is not transparent, yet de France grounds the character so that her doings seem natural and true to form.

Doret, making an exceptional film debut, is a bundle of restlessness and anger.  His small stature makes plain the unguarded exposure to his father’s harshness and disguises the coiled energy with which Cyril will strike when provoked.  Doret does well projecting and exhibiting toughness beyond his years, but he’s most affecting when revealed as a confused and hurt child. 

The Dardennes’ style resists cheap sentimentality, yet in THE KID WITH A BIKE it yields a deeply moving examination of love as a shield.  They put forth no guarantee that everything will work out.  The vulnerability in no expectations or certainties materializes in a harrowing portrait of an at-risk child and the woman who could be his salvation.  In the Dardennes’ films the grace issued by ordinary people supplants miracles but is no less of a wonder.

Grade: A-

Undefeated

UNDEFEATED (Daniel Lindsay and T.J. Martin, 2011)

With many school districts struggling financially, the money funneled to athletics programs deserves scrutiny.  What is the value in having extracurricular sports when lack of funding may also require reducing academic offerings?  Are the education system’s priorities misplaced when a student with marginal scholastic achievements but superior and in-demand physical skills has a better chance of attending college than a classmate with a high grade point average?  What should be made of poor schools that, in order to have enough money to sustain their programs, travel significant distances to face wealthy schools that are paying them to play the games?  While the documentary UNDEFEATED concerns itself with seeking an answer to just the first of those questions, directors Daniel Lindsay and T.J. Martin don’t ignore the realities surrounding this inspirational tale of mentorship through high school football.

At the center of the film and the players’ attention is Manassas High School head coach Bill Courtney.  He’s in his sixth year volunteering to lead the North Memphis, Tennessee team as they begin the 2009 season.  From the first scene it is clear that Courtney isn’t giving his time and energy for the power or glory associated with the position in some communities.  In a couple weeks he must deal with more incidents of players getting shot and embroiled in legal trouble than many coaches will experience in a career.  The team has a losing history and a reputation for being undisciplined.  For toppers, Manassas has not won a playoff game in its 110-year existence.  Hopes are higher than usual for the upcoming season, but at Manassas nothing is guaranteed.

Three player stories come to the forefront in UNDEFEATED.  Senior offensive lineman O.C. Brown is unusually fast for his enormous size and thus attracts college recruiters.  The big question is if he can keep up his grades and score high enough on a standardized test to be eligible at the next level.  Senior Montrail “Money” Brown’s mental toughness and desire compensate for whatever physical shortcomings he may have versus competitors.  He wants to further his education and has the GPA to do so, but he’ll have to find a way to get there other than an athletic scholarship.  Junior Chavis Daniels returns to the team after more than a year in a youth penitentiary.  His anger issues threaten to be a problem for himself, his teammates, and the coaches.

UNDEFEATED follows the Tigers week by week as they make a push for the postseason, but the title does not refer to a lossless record--Manassas loses its first game--but a resilient squad.  In a refreshing break from the norm, the last game--the stereotypical big game--unfolds with the audience having a vested interest in the outcome yet with it ultimately being secondary to the relationships formed and life lessons learned.  The players and the coaches emerge from these months unbeaten by the setbacks and hardships they are dealt.  It’s about becoming a better person, not x’s and o’s or W’s and L’s.  

UNDEFEATED isn’t explicitly arguing for the necessity of competitive athletics at schools, even those with shrinking budgets, but it makes an effective case for how the character building that can come from playing sports is as valuable as anything in the curriculum.  Could a classroom teacher also occupy the crucial role that Courtney and his assistants fill in their players’ lives?  Certainly, although there’s a sense in the interactions here that sports and coaches have a way of getting through to them where regular instructors and courses cannot.  The reasons why aren’t fully articulated--Lindsay and Martin could stand to dig deeper with the players--but the results as presented are hard to deny.     

With a story that proves to be heartwarming and predictable, UNDEFEATED mostly plays according to the script familiar in its fiction and nonfiction counterparts. It does have the wisdom to dodge at least one problem inherent in the scenario, though. Typically a coach like Courtney would be viewed unquestioningly as a selfless man making a great sacrifice.  I’m not asserting otherwise or casting doubt on his intentions or achievements but pointing out that the person in this role is often held up as a saint. To his credit Courtney displays self-awareness of how his devotion to the football team means neglecting spending time with his wife and kids.  Like many of the details in UNDEFEATED, more examination would be welcome, but I appreciate that the sentiment is mentioned at all.

Race and class would seem to factor into much of what transpires, yet at best it is approached at arm’s length.  The potentially stickiest situation avoids the trap of hailing the white outsider showing the light to the black students.  Courtney is white and, by all appearances, economically comfortable while the inner city team looks to be entirely African-American and presumably disadvantaged.  The instance in which motives could be questioned--call it THE BLIND SIDE exception--doesn’t trigger any alarms.  

UNDEFEATED can be neat and tidy to a fault, but such quibbles seem minor when witnessing the positive example Courtney sets for his players and the affection they express for him.

Grade: B-