Month: December 2011

By Joe Bendel. Five ghosts haunt John le Carré’s most celebrated spy novel. The shadow of the so-called “Cambridge Four” spy ring, including the treasonous Kim Philby and Anthony Blunt, looms large over the story, especially given the circumstances of their private lives. The fifth, of course, is Sir Alec Guinness, who is so closely associated with the role of mole-hunter George Smiley. However, Obi-wan Kenobi should be smiling down on Gary Oldman, who confidently assumes the Smiley mantle in Tomas Alfredson’s appropriately cerebral adaptation of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York and elsewhere.

Smiley once was the deputy chief of the Secret Intelligence Service (a.k.a. MI6, but known colloquially as “The Circus”), but he was forced out with his boss, known as “Control,” when an operation went spectacularly wrong. As a result, a field operative (or “scalp-hunter” in Circus parlance) was captured, effectively ending Control’s related mole-hunt. Unfortunately, it turns out the late spymaster was not so paranoid after all, as the minister begrudgingly admits when he brings Smiley back into service to furtively investigate the four top officers of the Circus, code-named by Control: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, and Spy (skipping “sailor” from the old nursery rhyme, because it is too close to “tailor”).

There are no explosions in TTSS, nor is there a whole lot of shooting, but when it happens, it is significant. Instead of pyrotechnics, we watch as Smiley pieces the puzzle together, interviewing a diverse cast of professional thugs and bureaucrats, gleaning tantalizing clues from each resulting flashback. Yet, perhaps most intriguing are the glimpses we get of “Karla,” the notorious Soviet intelligence mastermind (played by a rarely seen Patrick Stewart in the classic BBC series, no less). Smiley might be chasing a mole, but his real adversary is definitely Karla, who fully understands his retired rival’s weaknesses.

Gary Oldman is the key reason why the revamped TTSS works so well. In a way, Smiley could be considered the dark side of his Commissioner Gordon persona in the Dark Knight franchise. Like Guinness, he plays Smiley’s cool detachment in a way that makes it clear the gears are turning furiously within his head. Occasionally he even seems to adopt some of Sir Alec’s cadences and mannerisms, but that is fine. Frankly, those familiar with the prior incarnation will rather want to hear that echo.

TTSS also features at least a dozen genuinely first class British actors, some famous and some who should be. John Hurt’s casting as Control is so perfect it requires no explanation. Likewise, Toby Jones, Colin Firth, and Ciarán Hinds add plenty of color as the Circus’s inner circle and Smiley’s prime suspects, by extension. Yet it is the intense and dynamic supporting work of Mark Strong and the soon to be famous Tom Hardy as scalp-hunters Jim Prideaux and Ricki Tarr that really crackle and hum.

Alfredson has helmed a sleek and brainy espionage thriller (one can see a certain kinship with his frosty, Nordic vampire tale, Let the Right One In), but TTSS is definitely a product of the le Carré school of Cold War moral equivalency. Smiley himself explicitly states there is no ethical distinction between us and them. Even the mole himself eventually explains that his decision to betray his country was largely based on aesthetics (which seems bizarre, considering he should be fully versed in the glories of Socialist Realism). Frankly, given the wealth of revelations that have flooded out of the former Soviet bloc, such revisionism seems like a dated relic of the 1970’s – but at least it matches the pseudo-retro vibe of the film.

TTSS is an absorbing big screen intrigue, even though it is relatively easy to guess the mole’s identity, solely on the basis of screen-time allotment. (Frustratingly, this means one of the best actors of our day is rather short-changed in the process.) Still, watching Oldman’s Smiley is the real show, following not just in the footsteps of Guinness but also the great James Mason (who played the character, inexplicably renamed Charles Dobbs, in Sidney Lumet’s moody but effective The Deadly Affair). He is a worthy successor, deserving serious Oscar consideration. Recommended for intelligent viewers who enjoy films about Intelligence, TTSS opens this Friday (12/9) in New York at the AMC Lincoln Square and Village 7.

Posted on December 6th, 2011 at 12:04pm.

By Joe Bendel. The aliens came and they saw, so now what? That is the question in the back of the minds of the few Madrid residents who did not flee the city. However, they will be mostly preoccupied with their own issues in Extraterrestrial (trailer here), Nacho Vigalondo’s enormously clever take on an alien invasion blockbuster, which opens this year’s Spanish Cinema Now, the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s longest running film series.

Of all the nights Julia could take home a strange man, she picks the eve of the alien invasion. She and Julio are a bit slow rousing themselves in the morning, which is how they miss the military evacuation. Initially she is only worried about her possessive boyfriend, Carlos. However, as soon as she and Julio spy the huge spinning discs in the sky, she lets the smitten Julio stay, settling on a cover story to explain his presence. Before long, they are sharing a wickedly uncomfortable dinner with Carlos, a madman (but not necessarily an abusive one) and Ángel, a creepy torch-bearing neighbor.

The inevitable conflicts of this soiree are obvious, regardless of the alien invasion apparently underway. However, the not-as-dumb-as-he-looks Julio takes advantage of the resulting paranoia. Indeed, what transpires is sheer gleeful lunacy, powered by jealousy, resentment, and all possible shades of love, most certainly including lust.

Granted, Extraterrestrial is not as wildly inventive as Vigalondo’s instant classic Timecrimes (stream it now, thank me later), but it is still toys with and subverts genre conventions in a richly idiosyncratic manner. This is hardly your typical sci-fi programmer. Frankly, Julio, Carlos, and a rogue band of UHF broadcasters do far more damage to the city of Madrid than the armada of aliens. Yet, Vigalondo nurses our V and X-Files honed fear and uncertainty, creating suspense out of whole cloth. The entire film is quite a nifty trick, but not without a heart. Indeed, Extraterrestrial is surprisingly bright and upbeat compared to the seriously noir Timecrimes.

Despite the outlandish premise, Michelle Jenner, Julián Villagrán, and Raúl Cimas play their respective sides of the love triangle with absolute conviction. Villagrán is particularly effective, smoothly pulling off each surprise as Julio, the ostensive everyman. Though more broadly comic than his ferocious star turn in The Last Circus, Carlos Areces also still finds some pathos and madness in poor, perennially frustrated Ángel.

As his sophomore feature, Extraterrestrial should firmly establish Vigalondo as an international genre film cult-superstar. It is a truly original way to address some of the oldest themes in recorded storytelling. Highly recommended, it screens this Friday (opening night, 12/9) and the following Thursday (12/15) at the Walter Reade Theater during the 2011 edition of Spanish Cinema Now.

Posted on December 6th, 2011 at 12:03pm.

By Joe Bendel. It is hard to say who is more unsavory in this morality play: big business, the press, or the Labour Party. For what it is worth, the journalists are the ostensive protagonists of State of Play (promo here), which makes its American broadcast cable debut this Wednesday as part of BBC America’s Dramaville showcase.

This should not be difficult, but viewers must absolutely forget anything they might know about the 2009 Hollywood feature adaptation. The original 2003 BBC series, written by Paul Abbott and directed by David Yates (of Harry no joke Potter fame), is far more intricate, intelligent, and murky. Nobody comes across looking heroic here, except maybe the poor beleaguered coppers.

MP Stephen Collins initially appears to be the Labour Party’s version of the litigious Gary Condit, when the apparent death of Sonia Baker, his staff researcher and mistress, thrusts his private into the headlines. Collins comes from the left wing of his party, though, and is considered an up-and-comer, “tipped” for the next cabinet. Much to the surprise of the Party’s top fixer, the elders duly circle the wagons around Collins rather than cutting him loose.

Though never very forthcoming, Collins starts talking to Cal McCaffrey, his former campaign manager now working for one of the more reputable tabloids. When Collins links Baker’s death to a street murder previously dismissed as a drug-related crime, he begins to get a sense of the conspiracy’s scope. However, he somewhat jeopardizes the story when he takes up with Collins’ estranged wife, Anne. It is safe to say this displeases his old school editor Cameron Foster, but he is stuck with McCaffrey when the reporter starts connecting top government officials and a giant multinational oil company to the affair.

However, this is not a simple corporate malfeasance story. While we identify with the Herald journalists as our primary POV characters, it is hard to consider them noble crusaders. Frankly, the way they deceive and manipulate many of their sources would be appalling if they were not already so ethically compromised. Yet, Abbott spares Collins least of all with his agonizing drip-drip-drip of revelations. Of course for viewers, this is all juicy salacious fun.

Continue reading Trial by Tabloid: LFM Reviews State of Play

By Joe Bendel. In 1989, the Romanian military received the orders all soldiers serving behind the Iron Curtain dreaded most. They were commanded to fire upon their fellow countrymen. Some did so, to an extent, but many more sided with the Revolution. Radu Muntean captures the chaotic anarchy in the hours immediately following the fall of Ceaușescu in his distinctly anti-heroic The Paper Will Be Blue (trailer here), which screened as part of a Muntean retrospective on the closing night of the Sixth Annual Romanian Film Festival, co-presented by the Romanian Cultural Institute and the Film Society of Lincoln Center.

Blue’s flashback format tells viewers right up front this night will end badly. Muntean then rewinds a few hours to show how events reached this point. Though Ceaușescu has been deposed, the military is not sure what to make of it. The revolutionaries have seized the television studio and many officers and enlisted men have volunteered to defend it from Communist Loyalists – or as the call them, terrorists. If you are wondering how to tell one side from the other, then you have just pinpointed the crux of Blue.

Militia (state copper) Lt. Neagu’s armored squad vehicle has been assigned to patrol a sleepy suburb well away from the action. However, one of his men from a politically connected family, Costi Andronescu, has deserted to join the forces defending the TV station. Fearing he will be disciplined for the actions of his subordinate, Neagu and his men venture into the maelstrom, hoping to bring back Andronescu in time for morning roll call. As they careen through the streets of Bucharest, allegiances become increasingly confused.

With its gritty docudrama-style and Kafkaesque absurdity, Blue bears many of the hallmarks of the so-called Romanian New Wave. However, there is no slack in this picture. It is tight and tense, holding a firm grip on viewers even though they know exactly where it ends. Muntean vividly captures both the claustrophobia within the armored car, and the disorienting commotion unfolding outside. The film also resists easy political labels, revisionist or otherwise, but as is often the case in the Romanian Wave, bureaucracy and authority figures take a real skewering.

Adi Carauleanu is fantastic as the world-weary but compulsively cautious Neagu. Through his fatalism and wariness, the audience gets a sense of the pent-up frustration resulting from decades of service under Communism. Though a bit stiff on-screen, Paul Ipate has some finely turned moments as Andronescu as well. More than anything, though, Blue is about conveying the in-the-moment feeling of a particularly time and place, in all its madness.

Blue is an excellent representative of Romanian film for a number of reasons. It certainly dramatizes a critical moment in recent history, but it also proves that the films of the Romanian New Wave are not necessarily long, slow, or moody. Raw and visceral, Blue packs a punch. Its title also makes perfect sense in retrospect, but to explain why would be telling.  Blue closed the 2011 Romanian Film Festival at the Walter Reade Theater this past Sunday (12/6), with a special post-screening Q&A with Muntean.

Continue reading Eastern Europe Double Feature: LFM Reviews Radu Muntean’s The Paper Will Be Blue + Andrzej Zulawski’s Possession

By Joe Bendel. Consider this as Upstairs, Downstairs in its darkest manifestation. In a secluded Tunisian mansion, Aïcha is squatting in the basement servants’ quarters with her domineering mother and world-weary older sister. It is not much of a life, but at least it is quiet, until the original owner’s grandson arrives with his lover. The inadvertent intrusion of differing values and lifestyles profoundly disrupts their dysfunctional family unit in Raja Amari’s Buried Secrets (trailer here), the gala selection of this year’s African Diaspora International Film Festival.

Largely uneducated but devout, Aïcha’s family barely earns a subsistence living through embroidery work. At least their cloistered existence allows Radia and her mother to keep Aïcha under control. They clearly consider her somewhat off, but it is initially unclear whether she really is a tad slow or has simply never had any outside social interaction. When Ali and his girlfriend Selma arrive, she is magnetically attracted to their fashionable clothes and open affection. Needless to say, her mother considers the “interlopers” indecent, but since they have no right to be there, the three women can only surreptitiously cower in the cellar. Inevitably, Selma discovers their presence in the crumbling manse, prompting the older women to take a rash course of action.

Ironically, the downstairs goings-on are considerably more scandalous than anything happening upstairs in Buried. Though viewers might guess at some of Aïcha’s family secrets, their revelation takes the women to some pretty shocking places. Amari clearly suggests the mother’s ultra-traditional Islamic upbringing has a stunting effect on Aïcha’s sexual maturity, but this is not a reassuring tale of female empowerment. What starts as a class-conscious social issue film morphs into a dark fairy tale, before finally settling into a psychodrama. Yet, somehow Amari maintains a consistent mood while keeping the audience off-balance.

The grand old home is wonderfully cinematic (sort of like a Tunisian Grey Gardens), anchoring the film in a specific, strange and isolated place. However, it is Hafsia Herzi’s remarkable performance as Aïcha that makes it all come together. Simultaneously vulnerable and unnerving, it is impossible to take your eyes off her. Arguably though, Rim El Benna’s work is even braver, portraying Selma as a sympathetic, emotionally complex modern woman. Her more revealing scenes also likely generated the predictable disapprobation from Tunisia’s intolerant religious quarters.

Intriguing in many respects, Buried creates an eerie vibe of life in a state of twilight-limbo, implying rather than showing the great repercussions of its accidental clash of cultures. Fittingly, it is another challenging cinematic statement handled by Fortissimo Films, the focus of a recent retrospective at MoMA. Definitely recommended, it screened as part of the ADIFF gala with a regular festival screening to follow next week (12/11).

Posted on December 5th, 2011 at 2:44pm.