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Summer Hours
Director: Olivier Assayas
Screenwriter: Olivier Assayas
Producers: Marin Karmitz, Nathanaël Karmitz, Charles Gillibert
Cinematography: Eric Gautier A.F.C.
Editor: Luc Barnier
Cast: Juliette Binoche, Charles Berling, Jérémie Renier, Edith Scod
IFC Films
102 Minutes, not rated
Summer Hours, Olivier Assayas' latest film, opens with children running free through gardens and woods around a typically beautiful French summer home. Filled with antiques and objets d'art, the house belongs to the Berthier family, whose matriarch is the 75 year old but still stunning Hélène (Edith Scob). Hélène owns the art collection that was handed down to her by a deceased uncle, a famous artist himself, with whom she may have had an intimate relationship years earlier. Now, at the end of her life, Edith is beginning to make the practical preparations of passing along the collection and the house to her three grown children, Adrienne (Juliette Binoche with blond tresses), Frédéric (Charles Berling) and Jérémie (Jeremie Renier). Only Frédéric, himself the single father of a tempestuous daughter, is the only one of the siblings who wants to keep the beautiful house and leave it to the next generation. Both Adrienne and Jérémie have jobs and lives that keep them both physically and emotionally distant from France. It is emotional distance that is at the heart of Assayas' beautiful story.

Hunger
Director: Steve McQueen
Screenwriters: Enda Walsh and Steve McQueen
Producer: Laura Hastings-Smith and Robin Gutch
Cinematography:
Sean Bobbitt BSC
Editor: Joe Walker
Music: David Holmes with Leo Abrahams
Cast: Michael Fassbender, Liam Cunningham, Stuart Graham, Brian Milligan, Liam McMahon
UK-Ireland, 2008, 96 minutes
The double meaning in this astonishing film's title refers to both the hunger for food as well as for freedom. The prisoners in this factually-based and brutally realistic film are starved for both.
In 1981, during the Troubles in Northern Ireland, the UK government was imprisoning IRA members but refusing to give them political prisoner status. As a result a group detained at the HM Prison Maze (aka Long Kesh), led by Bobby Sands, went on "blanket protest" which basically meant refusing prison uniforms. This led to them being exposed to almost unimaginably horrendous conditions and as well as to a series of violent repercussions.
The film, the first directed by British multi-media artist Steve McQueen, opens with a middle aged man beginning his day. Much of his initial behavior seems mundane; getting dressed and being served toast & tea by his wife. But then we see him soaking his bloodied and swollen knuckles in the bathroom sink; and, just before he drives off to work, he kneels down to look under his car for a bomb. This man turns out to be prison guard, Raymond Lohan (Stuart Graham). The film's narrative is confusing at first; we assume that the story will be about this wounded individual. We also assume that he is carrying around fear, guilt and grief since he works in such a brutal environment. Surely he must feel ambivalent about his job.

A week into the Berlinale and the general critical response ranges from "meh" to bloody awful. I'm more in the so-so camp, having seen a few films that spoke to me in certain ways, but not having seen anything that blows me away. Nothing like The Counterfeiters from 2007 or Hallam Foe from the same year or Offside, from 2006. So far nothing makes me say "Wow!"
Bertrand Tavernier's In the Electric Mist suffers from a number of maladies which combine to turn a potentially gripping murder cum supernatural thriller into a slightly muddled minor disappointment, albeit one with enough acting, direction and meaty plot to make it an interesting and worthwhile disappointment with much of that let down coming in the form of a rather unsatisfying reveal of the killer.
The film centers around Tommy Lee Jones, who is treading familiar territory as Dave Robicheaux a hard boiled police lieutenant in New Iberia Parish, Louisiana. Jones has a strong moral core, a laconic disposition and a troubled past (this time it's alcoholism) and Jones could play this role in his sleep but to his credit, Jones rarely phones in a performance and this one is no difference. He's compelling to watch for the duration.

Gran Torino
Director: Clint Eastwood
Screenwriter: Nick Schenk
Story: Dave Johannson & Nick Schenk
Producer: Clint Eastwood
Cinematography:
Tom Stern
Editor: Joel Cox, Gary D. Roach
Music: Kyle Eastwood & Michael Stevens
Cast: Clint Eastwood, Christopher Carley, Bee Vang, Ahney Her
U.S.A., 2008, 116 minutes
Just in time for the Academy's big "Fuck You" sendoff to Clint Eastwood, my long-delayed review of Gran Torino.
If you had described the plots to me, side by side, I would have said that Clint Eastwood's higher-profile film, Changeling, was going to be a more interesting film than it's seemingly thinner Gran Torino and I would have been about as wrong as I could be. While the former Angelina Jolie vehicle was blatant, mawkish, heavy-handed Oscar bait, the latter is the real gem of the end-of-the-year crop. Those who believe he's still got his chops as an actor, director and (immensely underrated) composer and overcome the agist, knee-jerk impulse to write him off as "done," should see this well acted and directed look at age and race relations in a 21st century America.
Gran Torino is many things, but a standard revenge film it is not. Loaded with far more humor and subtlety than the typical vengeance film, it's far similar in tone to Robert Benton's excellent 1994 Paul Newman pic Nobody's Fool than it is Death Wish.

Ever since it won the Golden Lion at this year's Venice Film Festival, Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler has beet hotly anticipated and those not lucky enough to catch it in Toronto or at the NY Film Festival should now understand why. While The Wrestler is continually being referred to as the filmmaker's return to form or other such hogwash from people who didn't see the beauty in his last film, The Fountain. Thankfully, his latest has no such barriers to its success and this exceptional film is one of the best-reviewed films of the year.
The Wrestler is being compared to Rocky and while it is similar in a few superficial ways, its core message and lead character are distinctly different. Rocky was a bum. He wasn't a had been, he was a "never was." He'd never been close to a contender and was more like On the Waterfront's Terry Molloy (except that Rocky eventually became "somebody," of course). On the other hand, The Wrestler's Randy "The Ram" Robinson (achingly played by a resurgent Mickey Rourke) was a superstar.

On the heels of Prop 8, comes Gus Van Zant's Milk and without mincing words, it's a tour de force. The truth is, as big as this movie's subject matter is - the assassination of San Francisco's first out gay politician, Harvey Milk (Sean Penn) - and as much opportunity as there is to pound in its message, the reason the movie works so well is because it is thoughtful in its telling and its performances are so subdued. A movie along these lines is, frankly, ripe for melodrama but Van Zant goes deeper and puts character before agenda. Early in the movie, Milk literally stands on a soapbox but never for a moment do we get any of the Oliver Stone bombast. Milk intentionally uses his personable nature and humor to reach or rather, create his constituency. It is no doubt something of a defense mechanism. Harvey Milk led a closeted life until he was about 40 years old, which happens to be just when the movie starts. A moment later we see that Milk has been killed and the movie is told in flashbacks as Harvey sits at his kitchen table and commits his story into a tape recorder. His calm narration gives the movie its stabilizing tone.

Happy-Go-Lucky
Director: Mike Leigh
Screenwriter: Mike Leigh
Producer: Simon Channing-Williams
Cinematography:
Dick Pope
Editor: Jim Clark
Music: Gary Yershon
Cast: Sally Hawkins, Eddie Marsan, Alexis Zegerman, Samuel Roukin
U.K., 2008, 118 minutes
Mike Leigh is one of my all-time favorite filmmakers and I recently had the pleasure of making his acquaintance. I mentioned in a brief conversation just prior to a press conference for the 2008 New York Film Festival screening of Happy-Go-Lucky, that I had been obsessively watching his BBC "television plays" from the 1970s (Abigail's Party, Nuts in May). While he expressed his appreciation, he also expressed some rancor. He was very frustrated with the quality of those tele-plays we have over here, complaining that they were unauthorized and of terrible quality. Attempting to be as upbeat as possible, I exhorted how the impact of the dramas shown through and, really, who cared about the quality. He thanked me tersely, and I could tell that he was somewhat less impressed. When moments later I asked if I could take a quick photo of him and his star, Sally Hawkins, they politely looked my way and I could hear him mutter to her, "he writes for a web site."

Perhaps the most original and technically striking films I saw at Rotterdam was Douglas Gordon and Philippe Parreno's Zidane: A 21st Century Portrait. A truly original style of documentary, the filmmakers trained 17 cameras of various type on one man during a football (soccer) match between Spanish giants Real Madrid and their league opponents Villareal. That man was Zinédine Zidane, the French maestro of the midfield who is one of, if not the greatest, players of his generation.

Read the rest of my review from the 2007 Rotterdam International Film Festival, here.
The following is a review of Matthew Bonifacio's Amexicano which played at the 2007 Tribeca Film Festival and recently played a run at New York's Quad Cinemas. Check here for upcoming screening information as it becomes available.
Director: Matthew Bonifacio
Screenwriter: Carmine Famiglietti
Producers: Matthew Bonifacio, Carmine Famiglietti
Cinematography:
William M. Miller
Editor: Morty Ashkinos, Ilya Magazanin
Music: Kerry Muzzey
Cast: Carmine Famiglietti, Raúl Castillo, Jennifer Peña, Michael Aronov, Manny Perez
U.S., 2007, 84 minutes
Amexicano tells two stories, the first a light hearted ethnic comedy about the growing friendship between an Italian American and a Mexican immigrant both struggling with their co-dependency for each other and the stronger need for a paycheck. The second story is a much darker one about just how precarious the life of an illegal immigrant can be. While this often charming indie film presents a vivid and convincing portrait of both sides of the coin, its turn in narrative might feel abrupt to some. If that's the worst that can be said about director Matthew Bonifacio's film which premiered at the 2007 Tribeca Film Festival last year, then he should feel proud of the outcome.

The following review originally ran as part of our coverage of this year's New Directors/New Films festival on April 28th, 2008.
Directors: Tia Lessin, Carl Deal
Executive Producers: Danny Glover, Joslyn Barnes, Todd Olson, David Alcaro
Producers: Tia Lessin, Carl Deal
Cinematography: PJ Raval, Nadia Hallgren, Kimberly Roberts
Editor: T. Woody Richman (additional editing by Mary Lampson)
Music: Davidge/Del Naja, Black Kold Madina
U.S., 2007, 94 minutes
Trouble the Water is simply the best Katrina documentary I've seen to date. No disrespect to Spike Lee (When The Levees Broke) or the other noble works that have come out since the disaster (Axe in the Attic and Katrina Diary to name just two) but this movie hits every note just right. Lessin and Deal went down to New Orleans just five days after Katrina hit with no clear idea of what they were going to find. To their good fortune -and ours-- they happened to meet Kimberly Roberts and her husband, Scott, a recently homeless couple at the Superdome. Prior to Katrina, the two had been living a very difficult existence in the impoverished Ninth Ward by selling drugs, something they touch upon in a one of the film's more moving moments. The disaster, as tragic as it was, ended up affording them the opportunity to learn more about themselves than they would have otherwise; one lesson being that they were living miserable lives and were grateful to make a change.
Adding to that life-changing revelation is the fact that Kimberly, who had gotten hold of a video camera not long before the hurricane hit, ended up filming portions of her experience. Those clips, are both horrific and funny and much of it ended up incorporated into Trouble the Water. Hearing Kimberly's remarks over her often manic camera work is another of the film's amazing aspects. Her anxiety is palpable as the water rises inch by inch, engulfing their home. Though her regional dialect is at times hard to understand, the spiritual change she goes through over the ensuing days and weeks is very clear. As she and Scott confront the enormity of their situation, rather than lie down and give up, they rise above their circumstances.

My latest post over at Docsider, the new blog I am writing for indieWIRE and SnagFilms.
Timothy Greenfield-Sanders and Elvis Mitchell have collaborated on a fantastic film called The Black List: Vol. 1 and it's really a special film. Check out some of my thoughts on the film and a pic from a recent special screening held by HBO.
While I still think he can often be crotchety and even woefully out of touch at times, there's no doubting that Anthony Lane was and remains a top notch film critic and an exceptional wordsmith. Just read the following from his interesting, if at times harsh review of Alex Holdridge's In Search of a Midnight Kiss:
"In its sad, filthy solitude, this may be an all too credible précis of modern movie love: we started out with Rudolph Valentino, and we wind up with Onan the Barbarian."
If you've seen the film, you'll get the pun. If you haven't, please do. It's really a very sweet film. As I said, Lane's review is at times harsh but he appears to have some genuine affection for the film and to see him give so much space to a tiny indie is rather heartening. It opens in NYC tomorrow, August 1st at the IFC Center. Buy tickets here.

Sara Simmonds as Vivian and Scoot McNairy as Wilson in IN SEARCH OF A MIDNIGHT KISS directed by Alex Holdridge
Photo credit: Robert Murphy
An IFC Films release
Fucking. Brilliant.
How's that for a short review? I've got a lot more to say, but this entry will have to be rather short, because well, it's almost 3am and I have a lot to do tomorrow. But don't worry. I'll be back with much more before the film opens.
To wit, the film is a masterpiece. Nothing more and nothing less. To those of you who usually rely on the similarly-named yet qualitatively different publications The New Yorker and New York Magazine, please don't. Messers Edelstein and Denby simply don't get it, a state which I would be glad to explore in detail in my next Dark Knight-related post.
Just a few notes now, before I crash:
Heath Ledger is brilliant and this film will make it all the more evident that his death was a massive loss to film.
The film is dark and violent, as it should be. There was an infant in a stroller at the screening I attended. Well, if they sleep, that's fine, but if your 6-10 year-old asks to see it, you might want to see it first, just to make sure.
See it in an IMAX theater. Christopher Nolan is the first director to use IMAX cameras to shoot scenes for a traditional release. Trust me when I tell you, the IMAX presentation will knock your socks off and it's worth waiting a few days, as most, if not all IMAX screenings are sold out for opening day. (Psssst: a little secret....in IMAX theaters, the farther back you sit, the better!).
I realize I haven't justified any of my superlatives, but I will, I promise.
Ok....more later. Must. Sleep.

My Winnipeg (IFC Films, IFC Center and Lincoln Plaza Cinemas in New York City)
Dir. Guy Maddin, Written by Guy Maddin and George Toles
Much like offal or the music of Philip Glass, the films of Guy Maddin are an acquired taste. Unlike the first two items on my list, I adore the films of this native son of Winnipeg, Manitoba. I first encountered his works at the International Film Festival Rotterdam in 2003 when both Dracula: Pages From A Virgin's Diary and Cowards Bend the Knee were screened. The latter was originally screened as a series of peephole vignettes which, interestingly, one had to bend one's knees, to see. But I digress....
My Winnipeg is a docu-drama cum dreamscape begat nightmare of a vision about a place that is clearly as much a part of Maddin's being as is his skin, brain or limbic system. What I mean to say is, Maddin is Winnpeg and vice versa. That said, I have no idea if the Winnipeg in the film resembles the "real" Winnipeg at all. What is clear, however, is that it's Maddin's Winnipeg, and that's all that matters. The filmmaker's trademark style is in full effect and the tale he weaves about the history of Winnipeg (did dozens of horses really flee a fire in the 1920's only to freeze to death in the river, becoming props for the weekend skaters?) is as engrossing as is is at times ridiculous. That said, you really do leave the film wondering if it's just possible that the city has a law requiring citizens to allow former occupants of their homes to knock on their door and spend one night (while sleepwalking, natch).

Orange Jell-O, naked Russian ice hockey stars, a weekly TV drama about a jumper called "Ledge Man" and rooftop homeless communities all make appearances in Maddin's vision of his beloved hometown and while the film is full of trademark-Maddin humorous moments and Winnipeg clearly means a lot to him, it's sort of like the fantastic, quasi-nightmarish version of a city that a child might create, albeit one you might want to take to a therapist. That said, it's gorgeously photographed in typical Maddin style, great fun and a loving homage to a city most of us know nothing about. While I might not want to live there myself (far too cold for me, for starters) it's a fantastic place to visit for 80 minutes and Guy Maddin is a great host.
Photo: The Hollies Snowshoe club visit the frozen horse heads.
Photo credit: Jody Shapiro, © Everyday Pictures Inc.
This post over at Valerie and Her Week of Wonders reminded me about my "best of" post for 2007 and how The Counterfeiters was a film I saw in '07 but was likely to make my 2008 list. Well, here it is, 5 months in and Stefan Ruzowitzky's film is still firmly in my 2008 top ten. Then again, there are likely a hundred or more films for me to see in the next 7 months, so who knows?
What I know so far is that it's not only an exceptional little gem of a film, it's one that's, gasp!, doing well at the box office. According to Box Office Mojo, the film has grossed $5,039,883, as of last weekend, placing it 52nd all time for foreign-language releases, a ranking that's sure to improve, as the film is still doing relatively well at the box office. The guys at Sony Pictures Classics certainly know how to release a foreign-language film.
As for the film, it's a subtle drama and morality play set amidst the horrors of the holocaust and it paints its characters in shades of gray, a particularly difficult and risky thing to attempt when dealing with this subject matter.

If you haven't seen this film, I urge you to hit your local arthouse or multiplex, like say, this one in Anchorage, Alaska and see this excellence in film making.

