Sugar

SUGAR (Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, 2008)

The baseball drama SUGAR draws its title from the nickname of Dominican Republic pitching prospect Miguel Santos (first-time actor Algenis Perez Soto). Sugar is so known because of his fondness for sweet foods, but the moniker could just as well derive from his skill hurling a ball.

Sugar views baseball as his ticket to the United States and the fortune and fame that come with being a Major Leaguer. As is usually true of enormous aspirations, the journey is more complicated than Sugar expects. He earns a spot with a minor league team in Iowa, but rather than rocketing to the big leagues, he struggles with the language barrier, cultural differences, and an injury.

As of this year's Opening Day, Latin Americans accounted for twenty-nine percent of Major League Baseball players, with the majority of them coming from the Dominican Republic. Camps there were recently in the news because of scandals involving player signings and age falsifications. Although SUGAR is not based on any individual's true story, it provides an absorbing look at a baseball pipeline that impacts the game significantly yet is largely unfamiliar to fans.

That reason alone should be sufficient for baseball enthusiasts to make SUGAR a must-see. At a time when sabermetrics break players down into pages of predictive statistics, SUGAR delivers a potent reminder of off-the-field challenges that affect performance on the field. Athletes aren't robots, and this humanizing examination of one immigrant's quest grants greater appreciation for what must be overcome to even have a chance to succeed.

Co-writers and directors Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck present this fascinating inside baseball tour with empathy and pull out a strong lead performance from Soto, a non-actor who once aspired to follow his character's dreams. Because Sugar comes to the U.S. with very limited knowledge of English and lacks a confidante, Soto must convey much of what he thinks and feels without speaking.

To baseball fans most farm system players, especially non-natives, are voiceless and faceless. Their names may be bandied about as they work through the system, but tales of these roster fillers' ups and downs mostly go untold. For a moment SUGAR borrows the spotlight for one of these commonplace but ignored stories.

Grade: A-

Terminator Salvation

TERMINATOR SALVATION (McG, 2009)

TERMINATOR SALVATION picks up the series with John Connor (Christian Bale) at the forefront in the war against the machines. Set in 2018, fourteen years after the Judgement Day brought on by Skynet, the scrappy survivors battle the robots trying to purge all humans from the planet. Of particular interest to them is Kyle Reese (Anton Yelchin), the teen destined to be Connor's father.

While the computers hunt for Reese, the resistance believes they have found a signal that will destroy the machines. Connor's broadcasts and mythic status give him claims to a leadership role, and he demands to be the one to carry out the mission.

Meanwhile, death row inmate Marcus Wright (Sam Worthington) wakes up in this future. The last thing he remembers is being prepped for execution fifteen years earlier. Wright's motives and purpose are of great concern to Connor, but eventually he has no choice but to trust him as they team up to rescue Reese and hopefully deliver the crushing blow to the Skynet headquarters.

TERMINATOR SALVATION boasts impressive setpieces that provide eye-popping visual scale, but the story so badly lacks scope that the film feels small and, ultimately, inconsequential.

The killer machines are fast and frightening. The film is jammed with action, something that McG and the kinetic camera capture with dazzling technique. TERMINATOR SALVATION delivers the goods as an action and effects extravaganza, but after awhile the man versus machine mayhem tends to blur into an endless loop. The human characters are severely underwritten, a quality that comes to bear during the beats when the film pauses for exposition.

Practically since birth John Connor has carried the weight of knowing his role in this war, so Bale's stern performance suits the character, even if it's as one-note as the rest of TERMINATOR SALVATION. The screenplay hampers him with little to do but bark at everyone in the vicinity.

Bryce Dallas Howard must have been cast as his wife Kate solely because her red hair keeps the continuity with Claire Danes, who held the role in 2003's TERMINATOR 3: RISE OF THE MACHINES. For a franchise that has offered strong female leads, Kate Connor's near-invisibility in TERMINATOR SALVATION is a disappointment at best. It also means a good actress is underutilized, but so it goes in a film enthralled with computer-generated effects to the point where the humanity is cut out, ironically enough.

Ignoring the fact that the advertising reveals Marcus Wright's secret, the film's bungled introduction of the character leaves little doubt about his intended role in this war. Without any questions as to why Marcus turns up when he does, where's the drama and tension? Then there's the time travel element that makes one wonder if all of the events in the film's universe are predetermined, although that path is better left untraveled lest the fourth TERMINATOR be rendered irrelevant.

TERMINATOR SALVATION is fitfully entertaining in its unceasing futuristic warfare, but if the characters are fighting for humanity's survival, they've already lost on one front. The computers have taken over the filmmaking.

Grade: C

Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian

NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM: BATTLE OF THE SMITHSONIAN (Shawn Levy, 2009)

In NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM: BATTLE OF THE SMITHSONIAN Larry Daley (Ben Stiller) has traded in his night security guard uniform for a suit and tie as an inventor and TV pitchman. He still swings by the Museum of Natural History to see his old friends that make up the exhibits, but his visits have become fewer during the couple years since their initial adventure.

Larry learns that new interactive holographic terminals are replacing the old displays, which are being packed and shipped to the Smithsonian's archives. Ahkmenrah's tablet is staying in New York, though, which means that miniature cowboy Jedediah (Owen Wilson), Roman soldier Octavius (Steve Coogan), and pals will not come to life at night in Washington D.C.

To their benefit and Larry's aggravation, the sticky-fingered Capuchin monkey steals the tablet and takes it along to the Smithsonian. There the pharoah Kahmunrah (Hank Azaria) tries to get it so he can summon an underworld army to help him rule the planet. Larry poses as a security guard so he can infiltrate the nineteen Smithsonian museums and thwart the pharoah's plans.

NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM: BATTLE OF THE SMITHSONIAN collects and unveils a who's who of television and film comedians like an institution amasses and showcases artifacts. Jonah Hill gets a funny scene as a Smithsonian guard who confronts Stiller as he is about to touch an exhibit. Bill Hader contributes some amusing moments as a tactically-challenged General Custer who is obsessed with his golden locks.

Azaria's Kahmunrah draws laughs from overestimating what he deems to be his fearsome resurrection, and in a charming turn Amy Adams plays aviation pioneer Amelia Earhart as a screwball spitfire. Ricky Gervais and Mindy Kaling are also worth noting in minor roles while Christopher Guest as Ivan the Terrible and THE OFFICE'S Craig Robinson are among those whose talents are squandered.

Descended from the big budget family films of the 1980s, the first NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM was an enjoyable amusement park ride through the halls of history. The sequel has its moments too, mostly due to the fine cast, but this repeat spin gets a little wearying.

The fatigue stems from the characters running among buildings on the National Mall rather than kicking back with old favorites and new acquaintances alike. Just like on a family's summer vacation, when the pressure is on to cram in as many activities and to appeal to every member every second, NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM: BATTLE OF THE SMITHSONIAN can be too cluttered and hyperactive to appreciate its broad pleasures.

Grade: C+

(Photos TM and © Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All Rights Reserved.)

Anvil! The Story of Anvil

ANVIL! THE STORY OF ANVIL (Sacha Gervasi, 2008)

Canadian heavy metal band Anvil has been hammering out albums for nearly thirty years. They were a key influence on Metallica and Anthrax, among others, yet the band never achieved the same levels of popularity or financial success.

In the documentary ANVIL! THE STORY OF ANVIL director and former Anvil roadie Sacha Gervasi follows the group as they take a break from their day jobs to embark on a European club tour and record their thirteenth album.

As childhood friends lead singer and guitarist Steve "Lips" Kudlow and drummer Robb Reiner formed Anvil in 1978. Despite years of professional disappointments and setbacks, they continue to hold onto the belief that their break may just be around the corner. While they look like (and are) middle-aged men, on the inside they're still teenagers in the garage creating rock masterpieces that the whole world will hear and love someday.

Such Pollyanna-ish confidence sets up the band for the contemptuous laughter of audiences, yet Gervasi's pure love of and respect for Anvil dampens the hoots. An affectionate portrait rather than a sad, derisive takedown, ANVIL! THE STORY OF ANVIL finds inspiration in the passion and tenacity these aging metalheads display.

Regardless of what one thinks about Anvil's brand of rock, Kudlow and Reiner are to be admired for remaining hopeful after banging their heads against the industry's walls for so long. They understand that a breakthrough may never happen, but setbacks and failures can't keep them from doing what they love.

This pie in the sky optimism gives the film a heartwarming side, but it also is employed for comedic effect, naturally. Gervasi models his rockumentary on the mockumentary THIS IS SPINAL TAP and emphasizes Anvil's similarities to their fictional counterparts.

Anvil plays songs with ridiculous sexual lyrics, gets lost on the way to a club in the Czech Republic, and has an amplifier with a setting that goes to eleven. They even visit Stonehenge. Short of opening for a puppet show, Anvil's experiences couldn't overlap more with those of David St. Hubbins and Nigel Tufnel.

Yet one reason why SPINAL TAP remains extraordinarily popular among musicians is that they can relate to the misadventures. Drawing comparisons between Anvil and their unlucky fictional counterpart isn't a slap in the face but an acknowledgement of how dead on SPINAL TAP is regarding the rock and roll lifestyle.

In a good-humored way ANVIL! THE STORY OF ANVIL laughs at the indignities the band is dealt while pounding a path they hope leads to career validation but more often than not guides them into more dead ends. The funny thing is that the documentary proves that their efforts have been worthwhile even if Anvil's rewards haven't been manifested in riches and fame.

Grade: B

Easy Virtue

EASY VIRTUE (Stephan Elliott, 2008)

Meeting one's in-laws for the first time is a nerve-racking ordeal even for those with the most resolute personalities. For the newly wedded Larita Whittaker (Jessica Biel) in EASY VIRTUE, being introduced to her husband John's family presents a firm test of her self-worth and young marriage.

The Whittakers occupy an enormous estate in the countryside of post-World War I England. The lady of the house, played by Kristin Scott Thomas, sees no reason why her son John (Ben Barnes) should want to leave it. Larita and John's whirlwind romance and marriage do not endear her to her new mother-in-law. Neither do her American citizenship, race car driving occupation, and trail of scandal sheet rumors.

Likewise, John's sisters, the ditzy Hilda (Kimberley Nixon) and sour Marion (Katherine Parkinson), snip at Larita's heels just as much as the family dog. The only sympathy she finds in the house comes from the hired help and Colin Firth as Larita's father-in-law. Mr. Whittaker isn't on the best of terms with the missus after dallying to return home from his battlefield service, so he appreciates the presence of someone he views as a kindred spirit.

Like her character in EASY VIRTUE, Biel strives to prove her respectability and talent in this film adaptation of Noel Coward's play. Known more for her figure and tabloid-documented love affairs, Biel makes a game attempt at proving acting chops that weren't on view in the action film STEALTH or awards bait war drama HOME OF THE BRAVE. While she plays the proper notes, Biel's performance lacks the zing needed to jolt this comedy of manners.

It's a criticism that also applies to the whole of EASY VIRTUE. Thomas and Firth are old hands in this sort of picture, and they spark a few flickers of flinty humor from slinging witticisms. Overall, though, director Stephan Elliott never lets loose the playful bloodsport of conversation regarding disapproved marriage kinship and societal differences. The waggish freedom Elliott does impart to the material comes primarily through anachronistic Jazz Age-styled covers of songs from the likes of Tom Jones and Billy Ocean on the soundtrack.

The easy virtue of the title refers to the presupposed freeness with which Larita has shared her bed, but it could just as well apply to the snap judgments and dismissive attitudes directed toward her and the elder Mr. Whittaker. After all, casting aspersions is easier than receiving them.

The serious turn that EASY VIRTUE takes at a latter stage doesn't feel of a piece with the preceding sections. If Elliott had made the stings of earlier rebukes felt more keenly, then the threat of shattered relationships and futures would seem of greater consequence. As it stands, EASY VIRTUE too lightly considers the costs of frosty familial dealings and is thus neither wickedly funny enough nor substantial.

Grade: C

Michael Jackson 1958-2009

The first time I remember becoming aware of Michael Jackson was reading in TV Guide about his "Thriller" music video, then unprecedented in cost and length, while I was on the way to summer camp. (Why I was reading TV Guide while in a car is a mystery lost to the ages.) It's likely that I'd heard some of his songs, but I can't recall anything having made an impression on me up to that point as a kid.

You have to remember that in the early 1980s our daily lives weren't immersed in or obsessed with popular culture like they can be today. Still, by the time Thriller was selling copies hand over fist, even an elementary school kid like myself, more interested in sports than pop music, would be hard pressed not to know who Jackson was.

The enormous mainstream adoration he enjoyed nationally and worldwide may have only been surpassed by Elvis Presely and The Beatles. In our niche-oriented culture such massive celebrity is something unlikely to be equalled or even approached again.

That's a large part of the reason why today's news of the singer's death at 50 is such a big deal. Depending on your age, it may be hard to understand or remember how hugely popular he was, especially in light of the freak show the last fifteen or so years of his personal and public life became, but at one time he was a fitting holder of the global title King of Pop.

What do I remember about him? The great, ubiquitous pop songs and the Weird Al Yankovic parodies are first and foremost. I imagine I taped more than a few off the radio. "Billie Jean" is the first music video I recall seeing. I was in my dorm room when I caught the post-Simpsons premiere of the "Black or White" video, which had me amazed with the morphing special effect and weirded out by the controversial coda with him touching himself, breaking things, and turning into a black panther.

There was Captain EO (parts 1 & 2 on YouTube), the Jacksons Victory tour Pepsi cans, and the Oprah Winfrey interview during which he claimed his skin was lighter because of vitiligo. I remember that my high school friends and I were strangely fascinated with Moonwalker. I'm not sure if I ever saw it all the way through, but seeing that trailer again brings back memories of how crazy the film is. I can't leave out the Moonwalker arcade game at Marion's Pizza in Englewood either. (What can't you find on the internet? This longer video apparently features a game played all the way through.)

Believe it or not, I don't own a single Michael Jackson song. It could be because when I became a frequent music buyer I slighted pop confections for more "important" or "authentic" rock. It could be because Jackson was odd and, let's face it, increasingly creepy. He leaves an impressive history of pop music, though, and I ought to have some of it to listen to.

It is, of course, impossible to forget his troubled and eccentric life outside of his singing and performing, and rightfully so. Nevertheless, newcasts and Twitter wouldn't be abuzz about Michael Jackson tonight if it weren't for the musical legacy that put him and his actions so prominently in the public eye. Michael Jackson the entertainer was long ago eclipsed by Michael Jackson the tabloid curiosity, but perhaps in time his music can be salvaged from the wreck that he became.

Year One

YEAR ONE (Harold Ramis, 2009)

Following in the tradition of Mel Brooks' HISTORY OF THE WORLD: PART I, the comedy YEAR ONE features Jack Black and Michael Cera as primitive, incompetent hunter-gatherers bumbling their way through the beginnings of recorded history. In keeping with their established cinematic personalities, Black's Zed is a cheerful idiot while Cera's Oh is a neurotic weakling.

These best pals are already outcasts in their village before a literal banishment from the tribe verifies their feelings of inadequacy. After being expelled they stumble out of the forest and into a series of encounters with David Cross as the treacherous Cain, Hank Azaria's circumcision-fixated Abraham, and the libidinous and virgin-sacrificing population of Sodom.

Black and Cera's shticks are starting to feel as old as the ancient times their characters inhabit in YEAR ONE. Black's dialed-to-eleven foolishness and Cera's low energy performance produce diminishing results because this plays like a lazily ad libbed film reliant on their familiar comedic postures.

The screenplay is credited to director Harold Ramis and THE OFFICE writers Gene Stupnitsky and Lee Eisenberg, but none of the wit found in their best work is displayed here. More often than not they settle for moments like Black eating crap on purpose and Cera oiling up a hirsute Oliver Platt in the fruitless search for laughs.

Other than rooting the humor in scenarios from religious texts rather than riffing on pop culture references, there's little separating YEAR ONE from Jason Friedberg and Aaron Seltzer comedic wastelands like MEET THE SPARTANS and DISASTER MOVIE.

Seeds of a better film are planted in potentially more fertile ground when YEAR ONE connects jokes regarding how traditions may originate from accidents and the power-mongering of rulers, basically anything but divine decrees, but it's not clever or funny enough to unleash the sorts of potentially blasphemous challenges put forth in Monty Python's LIFE OF BRIAN. This uninspired Torah-lampooning sketch comedy is as arid and empty as the landscapes which the protagonists wander across.

Grade: D+

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen

TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN (Michael Bay, 2009)

Sam Witwicky (Shia LaBeouf) and the altruistic Autobots, led by Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen), may have defeated the Decepticons at the end of TRANSFORMERS, but you can't keep evil alien robots down for long.

In TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN college-bound Sam discovers that he still has a shard of the Allspark, the powerful cube battled over and thought to be destroyed in the first film. Even a small piece of the Allspark can turn ordinary machines into malevolent transformers. Naturally, the Decepticons want this sliver so they can revive their ocean-entombed leader Megatron (Hugo Weaving).

Sam gives the fragment to his girlfriend Mikaela (Megan Fox) for safe keeping but not before he accidentally touches it and has his brain imprinted with visions of alien symbols. This robot language holds clues to the location of an ancient machine that Megatron and his master The Fallen (Tony Todd) want to find so they can harvest the sun's energy.

TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN'S state-of-the-art special effects and humongous scale often make it a sight to behold, but the technical achievements are serving to prop up an ungainly and incomprehensible assault on the senses.

REVENGE OF THE FALLEN isn't significantly different than its predecessor. In fact, the two films are virtually the same. Both of director Michael Bay's franchise behemoths are orgies of robot violence interrupted by exposition payloads delivered through clunky dialogue and goofy, sometimes ill-advised humor. Bay has been criticized before for employing offensive minority stereotypes for laughs, and he's likely to come under fire again, not the least of which is for the shucking and jiving twin Autobots.

The sequel improves the Transformers' character designs, most notably through more distinct facial features, but these changes are often for naught because the robots look like indistinguishable trash-compacted heaps, especially when engaged in combat. Ascertaining which robot is which, let alone what parts of them we're seeing, is a mostly hopeless task.

Whether it's piling up extended action scenes or attempting to spell out the befuddling story's intricacies, TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN is the cinema of overkill. In addition to the main plot points the distended first half crosscuts among the origins of Transformers on earth, an Autobot-military alliance and bureaucratic conflict, Sam's initiation to college life, and his parents' empty nest escapades. The second half is devoted to a thankfully less scattered but ultimately monotonous battle in the Egyptian desert.

With plenty of gigantic, shape-shifting robots ripping it up, the film isn't always a drag, but in this instance, as is usually the case with Bay, more is not for the best. TRANSFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN'S 150 minutes is something to endure rather than enjoy.

Grade: D+

A Tribute to Frank Gabrenya

(Still from Melvin and Howard, which is showing on June 4 at the Wexner Center for the Arts as part of "A Tribute to Frank Gabrenya")

It seems like every couple days Movie City News links to yet another article about a film critic being laid off. Newspapers are struggling, and local arts coverage is often one of the services deemed non-essential by decision makers. Syndicated film reviews, often coming from New York or Los Angeles, replace of the hometown voice and perspective. It may make business sense, although I wonder if losing writers with whom readers form relationships is productive in the long run.

Frank Gabrenya wrote about film for the Columbus Citizen-Journal before moving onto the Columbus Dispatch in 1987. Frank was the fulltime film critic there until this April when he was among 45 Dispatch employees let go.

While the Columbus area has more film critics than the average reader might expect, Frank was the most prominent and, I’m guessing, the longest serving in this community. He continues to write the occasional freelance review for the Dispatch, but it’s not the same as seeing his name attached to bylines for the pieces covering most of the new releases every Friday. (Of course, no disrespect is intended to Nick Chordas and the other freelancers. Nick is doing an admirable job striving to keep a couple locally written reviews in the Dispatch each week.)

Tonight, as a way of saying thanks for his years of service, the Wexner Center for the Arts presents "A Tribute to Frank Gabrenya". He will introduce the Jonathan Demme comedy Melvin and Howard. The program begins at 7 p.m.

Back in 1997, when my Now Playing co-host Paul Markoff and I were new film critics, we asked Frank if he would include us in his annual column surveying local critics on their favorite films of the year. We were (and still are) largely unknown to most in the Dispatch’s readership, but he gladly welcomed us into the fold. It's the least I can do to say thanks here for his help, cooperation, and friendship through the years and to be among those honoring him by attending this evening's tribute.

Views of The Room

Whether I'm keeping up with new movies in theaters, catching up on films I haven't seen, or rewatching favorites, I don't have the time or inclination for viewing movies that are supposedly so bad that they become good. I chose to make an exception for THE ROOM.

I was unaware of this cult film until reading A.V. Club writer Scott Tobias' New Cult Canon entry on it. (An Entertainment Weekly article about the film and the phenomenon is also essential reading.) THE ROOM sounded intriguingly awful, but I couldn't locate it on Netflix and just assumed it wasn't available on DVD. When I found out about Columbus Alive's private screening of it tonight, I knew I needed to go if possible. Thanks to Alive's Melissa Starker for getting me on the list to attend.

Although it plays as comedy, THE ROOM is a drama about sensitive banker Johnny (Tommy Wiseau) and his cheating, scheming fiancée Lisa (Juliette Danielle). (I'm not buying after the fact claims that THE ROOM is supposed to be as hilarious as it is.) Lisa seduces Johnny's best friend Mark (Greg Sestero), who is conflicted about the affair because he is Johnny's best friend and Lisa knows that he is Johnny's best friend.

THE ROOM is so incompetently made that the terrible acting and writing take a back seat to the comic artlessness. Viewing this on projected video made it hard to notice the camera's infamous focus problems, yet it isn't hyperbole to say that THE ROOM is shot and assembled as though writer, director, and star Wiseau doesn't know the first thing about film grammar.

Characters come and go without explanation. Plot developments are introduced and discarded, sometimes within the same scene. THE ROOM is essentially a long string of non sequiturs that binds the character's (and Wiseau's) heartbreak. Well, that and three--or was it four?--ridiculously long and determinedly unerotic sex scenes in the first thirty or so minutes.

It's remarkably difficult to make a movie this bad on purpose. Only something made out of tremendously misguided passion and arrogance could achieve the magical crapitude of THE ROOM. Wiseau seems deadly serious about his jaundiced take on women and relationships. Laughable as the movie is, his anguish pours out from this personal cinematic statement. Of course, it's such earnestness in incompetency that makes THE ROOM consistently funny.

That sincerity may also be why, for all of its technical and artistic shortcomings, THE ROOM is compulsively watchable. I couldn't wait to see what utter nonsense would come next. Most bad films are routinely bad; THE ROOM is uncommonly bad.

Although I was foiled in my Netflix search for THE ROOM, I've since learned that it can be purchased on DVD. (How else would a projected DVD have been shown this evening?) I wouldn't have wanted to have watched this for the first time at home by myself.

THE ROOM is something that's best seen with a lot of people. Witnessing an astonishingly inept movie with the small group gathered tonight in Surly Girl Saloon's party room made for the kind of fun, communal experience that moviegoing is supposed to be but often isn't. Here's one time when talking during the movie added to the ambience.

Perhaps an enterprising Columbus movie theater will give THE ROOM a midnight movie run. I've got to think this thing would play like crazy.

Ebertfest 2009: Day 3

The two academic panels that commenced day three of the 11th annual Roger Ebert's Film Festival couldn't have been more apropos for my film critic self. The discussions, titled Movies & Everyday Life and Film Criticism & the Internet, would seem to get to the fundamentals of what I do: thinking about the movies (and seeing them) on a regular basis and writing about them online.

The broadly titled first panel was less about how movies might be incorporated into one's daily life--something I'd propose is increasingly common due to the features and clips available for immediate access online--and more about how films reflect ordinary people and if general audiences are willing to see them. This seems to be a recurring topic for debate at Ebertfest. Much of the talk was familiar to me, especially the dragged out audience comments/questions that needed to be kept in check by Robert's Rules of Order, but it was interesting to hear Ramin Bahrani's thoughts because he's someone who thinks deeply about these issues and can articulate himself well.

(Frozen River actress Misty Upham)

The film criticism discussion suffered from having ten people on the panel. With all those highly opionated people and a broad subject, keeping focus and letting everyone get their say was a challenge. Presumably all of the critics on the panel make a living writing about films, but the current state of the profession suggests to me that for most it is a labor of love and will only become more of a hobbyist's pursuit as newspaper positions are eliminated and paying gigs dry up even more.

(Festival director Nate Kohn, Begging Naked director Karen Gehres, festival blogger Lisa Rosman)

The screening side of the festival's day kicked off with another documentary. It's arguable that everything shown at Ebertfest to this point has been a doc of a sort. Even the lone fiction narrative shown so far, Chop Shop, incorporated a naturalistic style meant to evoke real experiences, and Frozen River, screened later in the day, also possessed a feel for documentary truth. Usually the festival isn't so singleminded, so I wonder if it was purposeful this year.

For nine years Begging Naked director Karen Gehres interviewed her friend Elise Bainbridge Hill to tell her story. The unvarnished look at this woman's life reveals that she ran away from home to New York City at the age of fifteen and quickly became a prostitute and heroin addict. Eventually she cleaned up and made a home in the tight space of a converted air shaft of an apartment building. This was also where she worked on her art, whether painting or making jewelry.

At 30 Hill reentered the sex industry as a stripper in Times Square, but NYC mayor Rudy Giuliani was working on clearing out those businesses. She was eventually left without a job. Her mental condition detiorated, she was evicted, and moved into Central Park where she now lives.

Begging Naked is an unvarnished documentary with great sympathy for and dedication to the person at the center of it. Clearly the film could not have been made without the close relationship between the filmmaker and her subject, but that intimacy breeds an incompleteness in this woman's story. The film feels a lot of righteous anger at how Giuliani's cleaning up of 42nd Street left her friend unemployed and how Hill's eviction pushed her into a deeper set of problems, although it's unclear from the information provided whether the eviction was justified.

My main issue with Begging Naked is one that is far too common with documentaries. Enchanted with the subject, the filmmaker sets up the story but doesn't have enough material to shape it into an arc. Thus the film gets stuck in a loop repeating the same information. In this case that means seeing over the course of years that Hill is living in Central Park and still doing her art. It's fine to a point, but without Hill's scandalous background, I don't know what makes this an exceptional individual story or what the film has to say about homelessness and mental illness in general.

(The Alloy Orchestra's set-up)

Now for something completely different... The Alloy Orchestra's accompaniment of a silent movie is almost an annual occurrence at Ebertfest. It's one of my favorite parts of the festival, perhaps because this is the one time during the year I can experience it, perhaps because they're awfully good at what they do. Their score for The Last Command was more melodic than their typically percussive music, but it was a wonderful complement to the action on screen.

This year the trio wrote and played a score for Josef von Sternberg's 1928 melodrama about a Russian general who led the czar's armies but fled the country when the revolutionists overthrew imperial rule. In The Last Command the once-powerful Grand Duke (Emil Jannings) is now one of many scrabbling for work as an extra in Hollywood films.

It's a vibrant, beautifully crafted film that I feel like I'd have more to say about with the proper time outside of festival fever. Rather than slop together some poorly supported thoughts, I'd rather share some of great intertitles written by Herman J. Mankiewicz, who went on to write some other Hollywood picture. I didn't scribble these down until the movie concluded, but I think I remembered these pretty closely:

-"You are my prisoner of war...and my prisoner of love." (The general says this to a female revolutionist who improbably reciprocates his feelings of affection.)

-"The woman belongs to me. She goes with the coat." (Uttered by a soldier who has taken the general's coat.)

-"And so the backwash of a tortured nation carries another extra to Hollywood." (How's that for describing the general's path from military leadership to one of many Russians in a stack of headshots.)

-"Is that beard supposed to be Russian? It looks like an ad for cough drops." (Hair and makeup people in Hollywood just don't get any respect, do they?)

A happy surprise was that Guy Maddin, whose My Winnipeg screened on day two, joined the post-film discussion on stage. This kind of movie is clearly something near and dear to him, so it was fun to listen to him expound on it.

(WGN's Dean Richards, Frozen River director Courtney Hunt, Misty Upham, and Sony Pictures Classics co-president Michael Barker)

During the post-film discussion for Frozen River director Courtney Hunt joked that there would not be a TV series based on the film. There would not be weekly episodes built upon whoever climbed into and out of the trunk of Ray's car. The thing is that having seen the film a second time, the parallels to AMC television series Breaking Bad were apparent.

Like Breaking Bad's cancer-stricken science teacher Walt (Bryan Cranston) joining up with his burnout former student Jesse (Aaron Paul) to cook and sell meth, Melissa Leo's Ray and Misty Upham's Lila are unlikely partners in smuggling illegals into the United States through Mohawk territory. Both sets of characters are involved in the criminal enterprise out of desperation to survive and provide for their families. They all are largely unconcerned about the ramifications of their actions as long as they get paid. Walt and Ray have a set point they're trying to reach where they get out. Of course, things don't work out how any of them plan, and the suspense comes from identifying with and rooting on main characters doing despicable things in the name of their family's best interest.

Leo and Upham's performances are critical to the success of Frozen River. Seeing Upham in person at the festival presents startling proof of how she deglamorized herself to transform into the character. It would be easy to write off the film's achievement due to powerhouse acting alone, but Hunt's attentive direction and concise and detailed screenplay announces that she's one to watch as much as her lead actresses.

(Grades: The Last Command and Frozen River: B+; Begging Naked: C)

Ebertfest 2009: Day 2

(Morning panel discussion at the Illini Union Pine Lounge)

While nearly all of the 1600 seats in the Virginia Theatre are usually filled for each screening, a smaller group turns out for the morning panel discussions held on campus at the University of Illinois. Most of the seats are taken, but the numbers simply don't compare.

The lone Thursday panel was titled Movie Making & Distribution in Times of Turmoil. The panelists, pictured above, were Warner Home Video vice-president Ronnee Sass, Woodstock director Michael Wadleigh, Begging Naked director Karen Gehres, Trouble the Water co-directors Tia Lessin and Carl Deal, Sita Sings the Blues director Nina Paley, My Winnipeg director Guy Maddin, and moderator and festival director Nate Kohn. The discussion produced interesting comments from time to time, but since most of the panelists were either first-time feature directors or, in Wadleigh's case, no longer working in the system, perspective on the topic seemed fairly limited.

Having a distributor certainly helps in getting a movie seen, but a better topic might have probed the problem of finding viewers even when a film has distribution. Arthouse theaters have fallen victim to the same kind of model that bigger films have where an opening weekend splash is essential. In the case of these smallers films it's even more important because those first couple days determine if they'll stick in the theaters for another week. With limited promotion, it's an uphill battle for these kinds of movies to stay long enough to reach moviegoers through word of mouth.

(Time Out Chicago film critic Hank Sartin, Guy Maddin, and Ramin Bahrani)

Over at the Virginia Theatre the day began with Maddin's My Winnipeg. I'd seen the film before, although I had found myself in a bit of a fog during that screening. Watching this remembrance of his Canadian hometown I again found myself being lulled into a dream-like state. Maybe there's something in the movie to inspire such haziness. The film itself plays out like an uninhibited lucid dream that gets stuck in loops like the Winnipeg trains that never allow escape from town, and the repetition of words in Maddin's narration seems like a willful attempt to hypnotize.

Maddin's surreal pastiche doesn't resemble what is conventionally thought of as a documentary, yet it would seem that My Winnipeg is factual in spirit and has more basis in truth than I expected. For instance, If Day, in which a fake Nazi invasion of Manitoba was staged to drum up support for the Allies and sell war bonds really happened and wasn't some comedic conceit Maddin dreamed up.

The thin line between documentary and fiction filmmaking continued with Ramin Bahrani's Chop Shop. The neorealist filmmaker--or neo-neorealist, as has been suggested since neorealism is most often associated with post-World War II Italian filmmaking--uses nonprofessional actors and captures something akin to documentary stories even though he's meticulous in crafting scripted narratives.

The story focuses on an orphaned brother and sister living at and working in and around a junkyard's auto body shop in Willet's Point, Queens. Particularly in Chop Shop and Man Push Cart, Bahrani demonstrates his strength for dropping the audience into locations both real and foreign, even if in both instances he's exploring worlds that exist in the United States.

The great economic disparity that exists in the country underlies much of the film, and the looming presence of Shea Stadium visible from the garage provides quiet reminders of the multi-millionaire's playground nearby where kids scrape to survive a daily existence. To say that the kids in the film have been discarded like the piles of parts around them is an obvious metaphor, although it's not presented as blatantly or heavyhandedly in the film.

While I may be making Chop Shop sound like run-of-the-mill independent film miserabilism, Bahrani doesn't dwell on the tough conditions or strive to inspire liberal guilt in viewers. He's interested in seeing what these characters' lives are like and uncovering how they may through day after day. In the end the film's siblings have no choice but to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and do what's necessary. In it's own way, that's a kind of hope amid the rust and filth.

(Scott Roberts, Kimberly Rivers Roberts with her daughter, Richard Roeper, Tia Lessin, and Carl Deal)

While the day's two previous films dabble in documentary truth and realism, it was fitting for the day to conclude with traditional doc Trouble the Water. Kimberly Rivers Roberts and her family were stuck in their home when Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. She used a Hi-8 camera to document the storm and flooding after the levees broke. Directors Tia Lessin and Carl Deal incorporate this frequently stunning footage into a story about the Roberts and their struggle to recover from the hurricane's devastation. It's the toll of Hurricane Katrina and the government's response (or lack of one) in miniature.

I'd seen Trouble the Water before the festival and mistakenly believed that I had rated it "mixed"/C+. (I actually was lowercase pro/B-.) Maybe it looks a little better to me after seeing a lot of mediocre documentaries in the last month, but Trouble the Water isn't happy to settle for having landed incredible video and spinning into righteous outrage. It tells the story of these people with care and concern. I appreciate the lack of cheap shots that the film takes and the aspirational and inspirational tack the directors find. For as massively frustrating and frightening as the experience must have been, the Roberts and others depicted in the film don't come off as angry people, which they have every right to be.

Ebertfest possesses the feel of a family reunion, and with Trouble the Water the festival was able to welcome co-director Deal, a hometown boy, back to the area. The fest has also featured its share of post-film musical performances over the years, and this film provided the opportunity for another. Kimberly Rivers Roberts is pursuing a career as a hip hop artist. She capped the evening with a two-song performance that had a predominantly gray-haired audience bouncing along. It was kind of a strange scene, but it was a nice, upbeat note on which to wrap the festival's second day.

(Grades: My Winnipeg and Chop Shop: B; Trouble the Water: B-)

Ebertfest 2009: Opening Night

(Festival Director Nate Kohn, Chaz Ebert, and Roger Ebert/April 22, 2009)

The 11th annual Roger Ebert's Film Festival welcomed back the man in the event's name. A program on an Apple computer allowed him to deliver some introductory comments. The Urbana, Illinois native's new electronic voice has given him a British accent. Maybe Ebert's just following Madonna's lead. Anyway, it was nice to see him back where he belongs, and the crowd gave him appreciative applause when he appeared on the Virginia Theatre's stage.

The festival kicked off with a screening appropriate for Earth Day: Woodstock, 3 Days of Peace & Music. Honestly, when I saw this title on the list, I wasn't thrilled even though I'd never seen the film before tonight. I like plenty of 1960s music well enough, but my fear was that the movie would be one big self-congratulatory love-in to the flower child generation. Tonight I was further dismayed to discover that we would not be seeing the 184-minute original cut but the longer director's cut. (The festival program lists the running time at 225 minutes. I assume this is the same as the 228-minute director's cut listed on the Internet Movie Database.) Slightly over three hours sounded long enough; verging on four seemed like too much.

Still, I approached Woodstock with an open mind and found it to be a fairly compelling mix of concert film and event documentary. Woodstock is a refreshing change from contemporary music videos and concert films whose directors and editors try to show off their skills to the detriment of watching the performances. Here, whether it's a single camera's intimate, unbroken take of Canned Heat or the three superimposed screens of Ten Years After, seeing the musicians in action is primary. It's a lot easier to get lost in the performance when the visuals are in service to the content rather than the other way around.

That's not to say the film is stylistically austere. The use of split screen was innovative at the time. The mix of music and spot news storytelling--interviewees include affected locals, concert attendees, and the man cleaning the chemical toilets--give an expansive view of the scope and impact of the concert beyond the typical rock and roll movie. The photography in the film is phenomenal and looked fantastic in the pristine high definition source that was screened. (Of course the sound was fabulous too.)

As with any movie in which music is front and center, how much one enjoys it will color the overall experience. There's a lot of good to great stuff. Jimi Hendrix's concluding set proves every single bit why it and he are legendary. The photography, much of it from a low angle that emphasizes his guitar god status, shows how hard he works on his instrument yet how effortless it seems. The close-up of the frets while he interprets "The Star Spangled Banner" does the heavy lifting of music criticism to understand how the sounds the guitar makes ties in with the unsung lyrics. Santana blazes through its one song. The Who tear through three classics. I know it's sacrilege, but I could have done without the folkies, John Sebastian in particular, and Country Joe and the Fish.

(As an aside, is it me or is Sha Na Na a send-up of 1950s youth culture and older America, or is it supposed to be a loving recreation? The performance in the film makes it look like the former.)

As someone who wasn't born when the summer of love took place, I've sort of had enough of hearing how committed and important the Woodstock generation was/is and blah blah blah blah blah. While the film doesn't lack for idealism or sweeping statements about what this concert meant, I was pleasantly surprised to see that these sentiments are mostly kept in check. It was interesting that the festival audience's only applause for a non-performer came when the Port-o-san cleaner was proud to mention he had a son attending the concert and one serving in Vietnam.

The post-film discussion with director Michael Wadleigh, associate producer Dale Bell, and a member of Sha Na Na ventured more into the territory that I was dreading, but fortunately the film speaks well enough for itself. The most interesting thing to come from the talk was the idea that the film's structure roughly takes the shape of The Canterbury Tales in how it weaves together the different stories and perspectives.

(Grade: Woodstock: Director's Cut: B)

Once more with feeling

In a couple hours I will line up outside the Virginia Theatre in Champaign, Illinois for the start of the 11th annual Roger Ebert's Film Festival. As hard as it is for me to believe, it will be the ninth consecutive year I've come to this university town for the five-day event. Nine years! Where has the time gone?

Prior to 2001, the festival's third year and my first visit to it, I had never attended a film festival of any kind. To be sure, Ebertfest is not like what most people think of when the talk turns to film festivals, and those differences might be what make this event a contender for the ideal film festival experience.

There are no studio bidding wars for the scheduled films or even a prize competition among the pictures. You're not forced to choose among scads of conflicting screenings and rush off to different theaters across the city. Every film is shown once at the Virginia to the entire festival audience. The audiovisual presentation is second to none. The relaxed atmosphere probably helps in making the visiting filmmakers more accessible to festivalgoers. While the price has gone up from the $40 pass I bought to see 14 films in 2001, it's still reasonably priced. People aren't coming to see and be seen. (Well, that's not exactly true when bigger stars come to Champaign-Urbana...) All attention and festival talk is focused on the films and the people who make them rather than the marketplace, which is the way it should be.

I was spoiled the first year I came here. Opening night featured 2001: A Space Odyssey in 70mm. Seated within the first five rows of the cavernous theater, I finally made sense of the film. Its stunning images and powerful sound captivated me and the approximately 1600 other people in the room. (Make no mistake, seeing a big movie with that big of an audience has a different effect than watching something on TV home alone.) Keir Dullea was on stage for a post-film discussion with Ebert, and Arthur C. Clarke chimed in from Sri Lanka via telephone. And this was just the first night of the festival.

I was hooked and have come back each year to try and bottle some of the same cinematic magic that I felt. The films screened in 70mm are often revelatory, and the silents accompanied by The Alloy Orchestra typically rank among each year's highlights. Since Ebert curates the festival, the chance of seeing stinkers is significantly lower, although there are some selected films with which I would take exception with the thumbed critic.

Nowadays returning to Ebertfest is like a reunion at a film festival. There are those who I've become friends with over the years and whose company I get to enjoy for a few days. I was among the younger festivalgoers when I first attended (and still am) since boomers make up an overwhelming percentage of the audience. In that way there's a bit of a Dorian Gray-like experience in coming to the festival. I'll just assume my aging portrait must be squirreled away in the hotel's maintenance room.

In recent years Ebert's health issues have raised concern among those attending the festival--he was unable to attend at all last year--but with his voluminous writing of late and seemingly high spirits, his return should provide a nice lift. The festival has his name on it, and he is obviously part of the attraction for many who show up for five days of movies. Nevertheless, it's the love of films that he possesses and has helped cultivate in those coming to his festival that makes Ebertfest special. I can't wait to feel that buzz of excitement again as I take my spot in the line snaking around the theater.

Coming up at the Wexner Center

Want to be among the first to find out what's on the Wexner Center's Film/Video calendar this summer?

The Wexner Center will announce its slate of summer films—both the indoor and outdoor series—next Wednesday, April 15 at 2 PM via streaming video at http://www.wexarts.org/live. Film curators Dave Filipi and Chris Stults will announce both the highly anticipated Wex Drive-in Outdoor Film Fest titles and the indoor summer film series. Along with the names of the films, Filipi and Stults will be giving background on the series and taking questions from those viewing the stream via live chat. Information on the films being screened is being kept under wraps until the announcement, but the series are expected to set the “tone” for the summer this year.

Something else to keep an eye on is a June 4 showing of Melvin and Howard as part of A Tribute to Frank Gabrenya. Showing one of the longtime Columbus Dispatch film critic's favorites seems like a fitting way to honor his recently ended career at the paper.

Dragonball Evolution

DRAGONBALL EVOLUTION (James Wong, 2009)

Aside from awareness of the DRAGONBALL name, I come to this particular manga/anime universe completely cold. Even as an outsider I can ascertain that DRAGONBALL EVOLUTION suffers the pitfalls all niche properties want to avoid in their bids to go mainstream. It's too bland and convoluted for new viewers to recognize what all the fuss is about and, I suspect, too simplified and disrespectful of the source material for the fan base. Except for the presence of Hong Kong star Chow Yun-Fat, this shoddy live-action film is no different or bigger than the sort of junk kids plop down to watch on TV after school.

After two thousand years of imprisonment the alien Lord Piccolo (James Marsters) somehow frees himself and begins a search for all seven dragonballs. When united the glowing orbs grant the possessor one true wish. Seeing as Piccolo is an evil warrior, his heart's desire is more along the lines of world annihilation than a pony or a bicycle.

Standing in Piccolo's way is eighteen-year-old orphan Goku (Justin Chatwin). When his Grandpa Gohan (Randall Duk Kim) is murdered by one of Piccolo's minions, Goku follows the old man's dying wish for him to seek Master Roshi (Chow) for help in continuing his martial arts training and finding the dragonballs. If Goku collects them first, he can use their power to defeat the warlord. Also along to assist with the quest are fame-seeking scientist Bulma (Emmy Rossum), who has developed a dragonball locator, and thief Yamcha (Joon Park).

Fantasy films with complicated backstories can get bogged down in mythological minutiae, so it is to DRAGONBALL EVOLUTION'S partial credit that following the origin mumbo jumbo isn't oppressive for newcomers. Unfortunately, the streamlining that makes the film coherent for the uninitiated also removes all traces of personality and depth. This is a boilerplate epic with single trait characters whose plights are hard to get caught up in because Goku and crew come directly from the cardboard cutout factory.

DRAGONBALL EVOLUTION'S basic story is as old as time, so this sturdy construct needs compelling heroes and villains to distinguish itself from others of this ilk. The characters don't evolve but merely complete tasks on a to-do list. For director James Wong and screenwriter Ben Ramsey the least explanation of character accomplishments and motivations is best.

The ungainly dialogue can be easily imagined coming out of cartoon mouths, especially with these actors' voices. Chow emerges unscathed from this dud because some mischief flickers in his eyes throughout the schematic nonsense. Little of DRAGONBALL EVOLUTION is funny, but at least his performance acknowledges the film for what it is: a quick, inexpensive cash-in on a cult series.

The cheap effects and bargain backlot action wouldn't have wowed anyone twenty years ago, let alone today, proving that going from animation to live-action isn't an advancement for DRAGONBALL EVOLUTION.

Grade: D

CIFF 2009, Day Eight: Love and death

Back into the bubble. Here's more inelegant but timely reporting on the films seen Thursday at the Cleveland International Film Festival.

-The Candidate (Kandidaten) (Kasper Barfoed, 2008)

Country: Denmark
Genre: Thriller
Synopsis: A lawyer investigating his father's suspicious death is set up to look like a murderer.

Notes: This conventional thriller does nothing to distinguish itself from the many other boilerplate suspense pics that Hollywood churns out. Substitute English for Danish and Mark Wahlberg for this film's lead and you'd have something not only that looks wholly familiar but also wouldn't be deemed worth the time at a festival. Few surprises greet the nondescript main character. As urgent as the circumstances would seem to be, there isn't much tension as he runs around seeking the truth. I've been hoping to come across a solid genre movie, something the fest is light on, but the bland, mechanical Candidate fails to fit the bill.

Grade: C-

-All Around Us (Gururi no koto) (Ryosuke Hashiguchi, 2008)

Country: Japan
Genre: Marital drama
Synopsis: A couple experiences ups and downs during the first eight years of their marriage.

Notes: This is a nicely observed portrait of married opposites and the push and pull of their relationship through new and recurring challenges. Amid all of the misery the husband observes at his job as a courtroom sketch artist, the trauma the wife feels based on expectations of herself and the marriage, and the noncommunication between them, they discover what it takes to make it through the hard times. Unfortunately the image disappeared for a few minutes during a pivotal scene--if not the pivotal scene--so I feel like I may be slightly underrating this based on missing some key moments.

Grade: B

-Melodrama Habibi (Une chanson dans la tête) (Hany Tamba, 2008)

Countries: France, Lebanon
Genre: Melodrama (?)
Synopsis: A washed-up French singer who charted just one song in the 1970s and a lonely 30-year-old Lebanese beautician cross paths when a coffee magnate brings him to Beirut to sing at his wife's birthday party.

Notes: If my synopsis doesn't make this sound hopelessly convoluted, suffice it to say that there's even more nonsense that makes this a film in search of main characters and tone. (I didn't even mention the wheelchair-bound coffee baron's wife being accidentally carjacked and held for ransom along with the Mercedes.) At times it opts for wacky gags. Other moments mine a lightly mournful element. The larger problem, though, is the lack of a firm identification of whose story (or stories) it is. It's too scattered to belong to the singer, played by Patrick Chesnais, or the beautician but just concentrated on them enough to avoid being an ensemble piece. The conclusion seems particularly bizarre considering the relative lightness of everything preceding the downbeat ending.

Grade: C-

-Youssou N'Dour: I Bring What I Love (Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, 2008)

Country: USA
Genre: Music documentary
Synopsis: The Sengalese pop superstar records, releases, and tours in support of his album Egypt.

Notes: Although the film provides a brief overview of N'Dour's career--most, like me, will know him from collaborations with Peter Gabriel--the bulk of the doc covers his album about the Sufi Islam saints. Reception outside of his homeland is favorable, but in Senegal the album is met with controversy because of the intermingling of popular music and religion. The film can be a bit repetitive, but there's plenty of joyful music to move things along and keep it enjoyable.

Grade: B-

-Quiet Chaos (Caos calmo) (Antonio Luigi Grimaldi, 2008)

Country: Italy
Genre: Grieving process dramedy
Synopsis: A man figures out his own method of dealing with his wife's death and raising their daughter on his own.

Notes: A gentle touch is deployed as Nanni Moretti's executive sets his own process and timeline for responding to the unexpected death of his wife. The actor's placid appearance and demeanor presents a character who must put on a brave face for his child, yet it's also a reflection of his own uncertainty regarding how he should be reacting. The film also utilizes some heartwarming humor, although nothing about Quiet Chaos could be construed as reaching for easy tugs at the heartstrings. With more time to reflect on it, I might be willing to bump up the grade a hair for this splendid film.

Grade: B+

-The Chaser (Chugyeogja) (Na Hong-jin, 2008)

Country: South Korea
Genre: Crime drama
Synopsis: A former police detective turned pimp searches for the man who he believes is capturing and selling his women.

Notes: My genre description and synopsis don't really do justice to what is an unusual movie in a familiar form. Director Na Hong-jin plays to the audience with liberal sprinklings of humor throughout and plays with the viewers as he frustrates satisfying expectations. It's a film that can be goofy in one scene and fairly brutal in the next. I'm not sure that these abrupt shifts are always successful, but it's a compelling film because of its loose spirit. I especially liked how the chases and fights are sloppy in ways that they might actually be in real life rather than the perfectly choreographed and executed action we're accustomed to seeing. One other observation...what is it with South Korean filmmakers and hammers?

Grade: B

CIFF 2009, Day Five: All in the family

Four days of film festival attendance have pretty much turned my brain to mush. Fourteen hours, six films, and some scattered thoughts...

-Dunya & Desie (Dana Nechushtan, 2008)

Countries: Netherlands, Belgium
Genre: Cross-cultural, coming-of-age crowd-pleaser
Synopsis: Best friends search for their identities through their pasts.

Notes: Set in Holland, the film features polar opposite best friends. Eighteen-year-old Dunya comes from a conservative family of Moroccan heritage trying to arrange her marriage while Dutch native Desie is something of a wild child who casually picks up and drops boyfriends. Like Bend It Like Beckham, it's a comedy in which the cultural outsider wants to become more like those in her adopted homeland, much to the consternation of her traditional parents. Dunya & Desie can be broad and predictable, but I found it to be a pleasant break from weightier fest fare.

Grade: B-

-It's Not Me, I Swear! (C'est pas moi, je le jure!) (Philippe Falardeau, 2008)

Countries: Canada
Genre: Coming-of-age dark comedy
Synopsis: A boy misbehaves in order to restore normalcy to his fractured family.

Notes: This offbeat kid's eye-view of the effects of divorce and family dysfunction features a ten-year-old protagonist with sociopathic and suicidal tendencies...and it's supposed to be mostly funny. Amazingly, director Philippe Falardeau pulls it off due to a strong lead performance from Antoine L'Écuyer. He indicates that there's a good kid fighting to get out, but with all of the unhappiness around him, acting destructively is the only way to rid of his sadness and gain the attention and love he desires.

Grade: B+

-Boogie (Radu Muntean, 2008)

Country: Romania
Genre: Male crisis movie/a day in the life drama
Synopsis: A run-in with old friends causes a man to assess his life as a husband and father.

Notes: Consider Boogie to be the Romanian response to Hollywood's male crisis movies. The film takes its title from the main character Bogdan's nickname, which suggests his untamed youthful days. Meeting up with two old pals while he and his pregnant wife are on a seaside vacation with their young son leads to a spousal argument and Bogdan evaluating what his life has become compared to his still unattached friends. The guys prod Bogdan into being who they used to know, although it becomes apparent that they wish they had what he possesses. It's an austere, well-observed film that maintains Romania's recent track record for uncompromising realism.

Grade: B+

-Prom Night in Mississippi (Paul Saltzman, 2009)

Country: Canada, United States
Genre: (genre)
Synopsis: A Mississippi high school is challenged to hold its first integrated prom in 2008.

Notes: Charleston, Mississippi native and current resident Morgan Freeman offers to pay for the school's prom if they will have just one dance rather than separate events for white and black students. Prom Night in Mississippi has some affecting moments in how it shows students who seem willing to get past the racism of their parents and grandparents yet feel constrained by their small town elders' attitudes. The subject matter lends itself to scenes that elicit strong reactions--the lone interracial couple's interviews can be heartbreaking--although overall the doc plays like a less substantial version of The Order of Myths, another nonfiction film exploring current segregation perpetuated in part by tradition.

Grade: B-

-Tulpan (Sergei Dvortsevoy, 2008)

Countries: Germany, Switzerland, Kazakhstan, Russia, Poland
Genre: Anthropological drama
Synopsis: A family struggles with life on a Kazakh steppe.

Notes: To my eyes, films this "real" make it impossible to determine where documentary ends and fiction begins. (I've come across some notes that call Tulpan a narrative feature, but some of this is surely documented reality.) Similar in style to The Story of the Weeping Camel, the film settles into a family's yurt and watches the problems these people face. Pregnant sheep are delivering stillborn lambs. The head of the family's single brother-in-law returns from the navy and tries to find a wife in an area with few young, single women. As a depiction of a way of life, Tulpan can be a pretty amazing film that peaks with a sheep birthing scene. To emphasize the anthropological and documentary elements would be to overlook the humor in the film. Tulpan shows the difficulties these people face, but it also finds room for laughter at a rambunctious child, a cranky camel, and the sailor's overblown tales of sea creatures.

Grade: B

-Lake Tahoe (Fernando Eimbcke, 2008)

Country: Mexico
Genre: A day in the life deadpan comedy
Synopsis: A teenager has a minor car wreck and tries to get someone to repair it, but everybody he meets wants a favor of some sort.

Notes: There's definitely a strong directorial vision at work in Lake Tahoe, but as with other deadpan comedies I've run into at the festival, I'm just not in tune them. The film is gorgeously photographed and eventually peels back an emotional core that seemed missing previously. I just wish I found it funnier.

Grade: C

CIFF 2009, Day Four: The system

The truth is that there's nothing terribly smart about putting yourself through the full paces of a film festival's schedule for several days in a row. For nine of the eleven days at the single location Cleveland International Film Festival you can inhabit the theaters for six sessions beginning around 9:15 a.m. and lasting for about fourteen hours. Four of those nine days have midnight screenings that allow you to stick around until 1:30/2:00 a.m. the following day. That's seventeen hours in and around the theater and seven movies.

Carrying this heavy load is for the strong-willed and, let's face it, foolish--myself included. Although all that's being done is watching movies, sitting through that many films in a day, let alone for multiple days, takes a special kind of stamina. Even "just" five films in a day is a lot.

While some days are easier than others, I have found that I will reach a rhythm that may be the moviegoing equivalent to, in athletic terms, being in the zone. The mind becomes clear--or maybe empty is a better word--and you enter a stage where you're on automatic. That may explain why I've had trouble putting down my thoughts on these films. I lack the mental energy to do so.

I hit this level today, although as the end of the day approached, I also started to feel the weariness that catches up with you. The idea is to push through it, but the smart thing would be to do something as novel as take a break or even skip a session or two.

Not today.

-Children of Invention (Tze Chun, 2009)

Country: United States
Genre: Immigant drama/children at risk drama
Synopsis: Single immigrant mother often overlooks her children as she focuses on work.

Notes: A divorced Hong Kong native falls prey to direct marketing schemes as a way of supporting her kids. She sinks her limited resources into direct marketing schemes, which cause bigger problems for her than loss of money and time. Meanwhile, her young son and daughter must amuse and care for themselves while she's physically and mentally away. Although there is a whiff of Nobody Knows in Children of Invention, the circumstances and potential outcome are never as dire. On the film's plus side are the unforced child performances and bright, clean cinematography. The downside is the split focus and shallow depth. The film concentrates on the mother's story for the first half, but just when it presents a major crisis, attention shifts to the kids. Picking one of the perspectives--parent or children--and sticking to it for the duration would have made a stronger movie and allowed it to go beyond surface level.

Grade: C+

-Crude (Joe Berlinger, 2009)

Countries: United States, Ecuador
Genre: Environmental activism documentary
Synopsis: Lawyers sue oil company for environmental damages in Ecuador.

Notes: The title refers to oil, but it could just as well mean how the legal process operates in this case. The suit against Chevron has been fought for at least fifteen years and may continue for that many more. Texaco, now owned by Chevron, operated oil wells in the Amazon jungle and is now being blamed for causing contaminated conditions that lead to severe health problems and premature deaths among the people living in the area. Crude is primarily about the legal battle, and it stirs up plenty of anger at corporations, although it's always hard in situations like this to know what they can rightfully be blamed for and what is bluster.

Grade: B-

-Sin By Silence (Olivia Klaus, 2008)

Countries: United States
Genre: Women's issue documentary
Synopsis: Battered women convicted and imprisoned for killing their husbands work to make their voices heard about domestic abuse.

Notes: Chalk up attending this screening to a confluence of the right circumstances. I didn't plan to see this, but my desire to watch the Dayton-Kansas NCAA Tournament game, this film's short running time (49 minutes), and a Twitter follow convinced me to give it a chance. Sin By Silence is a solid piece probably best suited to fill an hour on PBS. The short is centered on the Convicted Women Against Abuse, a prison group that helps these inmates come to terms with the harm they suffered and try to earn retrials for those prosecuted when battered women's syndrome was not recognized by the courts. The film doesn't excuse what they did or paint them as victims. Rather it explains the silence that led to the actions they felt they needed to carry out and tries to find the answer for preventing abusive situations.

Grade: B

-Eldorado (Bouli Lanners, 2008)

Countries: Belgium, France
Genre: Road movie/deadpan comedy
Synopsis: Weird people are encountered on a trip when a loner auto restorer gives a ride home to the man who tried to steal from his house.

Notes: It very well may be that movies like this play better outside of a film festival's pell mell, or maybe Eldorado simply isn't that funny. It's a slow, stone-faced comedy broken up occasionally by unexpected bits of oddity. The film owes a lot to Jim Jarmusch, but as much as I like his films, I'm not sure how well they'd play in the middle of a scheduled six movie day.

Grade: C

-Sugar (Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, 2008)

Country: United States
Genre: Baseball movie/neorealist drama
Synopsis: A prospect from the Dominican Republic faces challenges upon coming to the United States to play in the minor leagues.

Notes: The studio and festival have requested no reviews of the film--never mind that it premiered at Sundance in 2008--but I think it's worth pointing out that this is a must-see for baseball fans when its limited release begins on April 3. Jose Rijo's appearance in the film and his involvement in the scandal with the Dominican Republic camps and player signings makes Sugar very timely even if it was completed more than a year ago. With the number of Latin American players in the majors and trying to break in, this tells a story that impacts the game but with which many of the fans, like me, are unfamiliar.

Grade: A

-Machan (Uberto Pasolini, 2008)

Countries: Sri Lanka, United Kingdom, Italy, Germany
Genre: Sports comedy/based on a true story/social concern drama
Synopsis: Poor Sri Lankans fake being on the nonexistent national handball team to get them out of the country so they can look for work in Europe.

Notes: An enterprising studio exec looking to cash in on the success of Slumdog Millionaire might want to think about picking up the remake rights to Machan. Yes, I'm aware that Sri Lankans and Indians are not the same, but this plucky underdog story has the potential to appeal to those who like Danny Boyle's film and are interested in other tales from this corner of the globe. Based on a true story, this feel-good film about poor people trying to find better opportunities and pulling a fast one on government officials fits into the The Full Monty mold. A nice Hollywood polish could tighten up this genial but overly broad, slowly paced, and diffused focus film.

Grade: C+