Month: August 2012

Aging in the Age of AI: LFM Reviews Robot & Frank

By Joe Bendel. Humans anthropomorphize. It is a very human thing to do, especially for objects that move on their own accord. One retired burglar will find himself doing just that with his assisted living droid in Jake Schreier’s very near future Robot & Frank, which opens this Friday in New York.

Frank Weld did not exactly get away scot free, but he is still living out his golden years in complete liberty. Unfortunately, his memory lapses are getting progressively worse. His establishment son Hunter is worried, because concern is what he does best. In contrast, New Age daughter Madison sees no evil when she calls in from exotic backwaters like Turkmenistan. Hoping to reverse his father’s slide, Hunter brings him a robot to help with the household chores and keep the difficult senior on a regular schedule.

Of course, Old Man Weld initially thinks little of his robot helper, nor does his kneejerk Luddite daughter. However, when the former burglar realizes the robot has a knack for things like lock-picking, he has a dramatic change of heart. He also has a perfect target: the oily hipster overseeing the conversion of his beloved library into some sort holographic monstrosity.

Having a purpose seems to do wonders for his mental state. He even starts seriously putting the moves on Jennifer, the librarian he always tentatively flirted with. Needless to say, though, the caper turns out to be a bit more complicated than expected.

Essentially, R&F is an intimate character study with some decidedly gentle SF elements (despite winning the Alfred P. Sloan Award for addressing themes of science and technology in indie film at this year’s Sundance); in other words, neither Frank the character (who is quite well read) nor Schreier is interested in exploring the implications of the singularity, at least not in this film. Yet though Schreier’s style is never all that showy, his restraint serves the material rather well. In fact, a late revelation packs considerable punch precisely because of its understated treatment.

Likewise, Frank Langella never overplays his hand, conveying his namesake’s vulnerabilities and self-doubt in quiet but effective moments. James Marsden does his best work perhaps ever (which is not saying much, with Lurie’s Straw Dogs remake relatively fresh in mind) as the understandably exasperated son. As Jennifer the librarian, Susan Sarandon makes the most of what initially appears to be little more than an extended cameo, but unfolds into something much more significant. Even Liv Tyler is not totally awful as daughter Madison (though “good” would still be pushing it).

Smartly written by Christopher D. Ford, R&F leaves viewers without complete closure, in a way that will ring true for families that have gone through similar experiences as the Welds. A sensitive, only slightly speculative film, Robot & Frank is easily recommended for general audiences (particularly librarians, robotics engineers, and thieves) when it opens this Friday (8/17) in New York at the Angelika Film Center downtown and the Paris Theatre uptown.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on August 14th, 2012 at 10:00am.

The Interwar Ghost-Hunter: LFM Reviews The Awakening

By Joe Bendel. It was always an old English tradition to have a ghost in your country house. After World War I, there were also plenty of dearly departed to be visited by. Of course, this led to a grand opportunity for a host of charlatans armed with a few garden variety parlor tricks. Florence Cathcart has made it her calling to debunk those flim-flam artists while she struggles with her own emotional issues in Nick Murphy’s The Awakening (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Cathcart is a bestseller, celebrated and sometimes reviled for her work exposing phony spiritualists. That is actually no small accomplishment for a British woman in 1919. While she is on friendly terms with Scotland Yard, she feels hollow inside. Robert Mallory is also skeptical, at least of her brilliance. However, with the boys of his private school spooked by sightings of a spectral student from years past, he reluctantly seeks her help, which she reluctantly gives. Much to her surprise, though, Rookwood’s haunting is not so easy to dismiss.

Rebecca Hall in "The Awakening."

Determined to crack the case, Cathcart stays on at Rookwood over the holiday break, with only Mallory, Maud Hill the kitchen matron, and young Tom, a student unable to return home during the academic hiatus, for company. There might be a few more malevolent entities as well, such as the brutish groundskeeper and perhaps the odd supernatural element.

Awakening starts out strong, establishing a vivid sense of time and place. Much like Rodrigo Cortés’ nose-diving Red Lights, the early séance-busting scenes are fun and atmospheric. The locations are certainly evocative too. Lyme Park in Cheshire, where most of the exteriors were shot (having previously stood in for Pemberley in the 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice) has to be one of the most severe looking estates the aristocracy ever summered in. Cinematographer Eduard Grau certainly makes it appear ominous and full of foreboding. Unfortunately, it all builds towards an over the top conclusion, loaded with contrived twists that would only leave M. Night Shyamalan satisfied.

Rebecca Hall is okay as the doubter in crisis. She has the necessary intelligent presence and shivers with admirable conviction. However, the real standout work comes from Dominic West (terrific in BBC America’s The Hour) as the WWI veteran Mallory, with the heart of a romantic and a persistent case of survivor’s guilt. It is a sensitive, deeply humane turn.

Like many supernatural films, The Awakening completely dispenses with its better judgment in the third act. Still, its first two thirds are effectively eerie and entertaining. Frankly, that is above average for the genre standard. Recommended for those who enjoy the conventions of old dark British haunted houses, The Awakening opens this Friday (8/17) in New York at the Angelika Film Center and the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on August 14th, 2012 at 10:00am.

Cantor Fitzgerald & 9/11: LFM Reviews Out of the Clear Blue Sky @ DocuWeeks 2012

By Joe Bendel. A prestigious Wall Street firm specializing in Treasury securities, Cantor Fitzgerald suffered more losses on September 11th than any other organization, including the New York Police and Fire Departments. The numbers are staggering: 658 of their 960 New York employees died that morning. However, Cantor’s story did not end there. Filmmaker Danielle Gardner, whose brother Doug was one of the 658, documents CEO Howard Lutnick’s efforts to support the anguished Cantor families while desperately working to keep the firm afloat during its darkest hours in Out of the Clear Blue Sky (see clip above), which is currently screening as part of the 2012 DocuWeeks New York.

Had it not been the morning of his young son’s first day of school, Lutnick surely would have been at Cantor at the time of the attack. With offices several floors above the initial impact zone, Cantor employees never had a chance. Rushing to the scene only to witness the Towers’ collapse, Lutnick and a handful of senior staff began scrambling to determine who survived. With the enormity of their loss weighing on him, a distraught Lutnick became the public face of the tragedy. Yet, as some family members lashed out Lutnick in frustration, the media turned on Cantor, hard.

Blue’s stories of grief and remembrance are truly heartrending. Surprisingly, though, it is also a compelling business documentary, providing an inside account of Cantor’s fight to survive during the precarious days following the fateful Tuesday. Their resourcefulness is quite extraordinary, conducting Twenty-First Century financial transactions with scrounged office supplies. Of course, the stakes were high. Had the firm folded, Lutnick’s ability to help Cantor families would have been severely limited. Indeed, that behind-the-scenes look at Cantor’s tenacious rebound is what sets Blue apart and above other well meaning 9-11 documentaries.

As a member of their ranks, Gardner clearly earned the trust of Cantor families, eliciting some unusually eloquent testimony from her interview subjects. While there are many emotionally charged scenes, the film never feels intrusive or exploitative. (The only exception might be Lutnick’s tearful television interviews recorded within days of the attack, which have already been replayed innumerable times in the media.) Indeed, Gardner deftly walks the tightrope, directly conveying the rawness of survivors’ pain, without reveling in it.

While the media does not cover itself in glory for uncritically recycling complaints against Lutnick, the overall film is scrupulously nonpartisan. Too many misguided people would prefer to forget or deny the horrific events of September 11th. Worse still, some might even be inclined to dismiss Cantor as an instrument of the “1%” amid the current polarized climate. Blue acts as a valuable corrective to such impulses, reminding viewers the Cantor employees lost at the World Trade Center were all individuals from diverse backgrounds, who left behind friends and loved ones. Poignantly engaging but also quite an enlightening portrait of corporate resiliency, Out of the Clear Blue Sky screens through Thursday (8/16) at the IFC Center in New York, with a week’s run at the Laemmle Noho to follow (8/17-8/23) in Los Angeles, as part of this year’s DocuWeeks.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on August 13th, 2012 at 1:39pm.

LFM Reviews Ricky on Leacock @ DocuWeeks 2012

Documentarian Richard Leacock.

By Joe Bendel. For many, Richard Leacock was Mr. Documentary, directly inheriting the title from Robert Flaherty, with whom he once worked. Since his name is attached to many of the Twentieth Century’s acknowledged exemplars of the field, his reputation was not without merit. Longtime friend, colleague, and protégé Jane Weiner collects decades of footage she shot of the verité pioneer in her documentary profile Ricky on Leacock, which screens as part of the 2012 DocuWeeks showcase.

Leacock shot his first documentary as a teenager to serve as a PR film for his father’s banana plantation. Decades later, Canary Island Bananas is still regularly screened at Leacock tributes and retrospectives. Obviously not exactly from humble roots, Leacock was educated at private boarding schools. It was at one such institution Leacock happened to meet Flaherty, who promised to hire Leacock after viewing Bananas. Though Leacock dismissed the pledge at the time, he did indeed find himself side by side Flaherty shooting footage for Louisiana Story.

Frankly, Flaherty’s 1948 classic boasts some of the strongest images collected in Weiner’s documentary, along with the uber-cool visuals of Roger Tilton’s smoking short, Jazz Dance, on which Leacock served as a cinematographer with Jimmy McPartland’s combo providing the music (with Willie “the Lion” Smith on piano, Pee Wee Russell on clarinet, and the great slap bassist Pops Foster, oh yes indeed). Yet problematically, many of his grungy later super-eight micro-docs that fired Leacock’s passion are not so powerful looking when collected on-screen.

Leacock back in the day.

Granted, there are some interesting making-of stories about Leacock’s films, including his collaborations with D.A. Pennebaker, who shares some on-camera reminiscences. Yet, the fact is that Leacock’s oft repeated calls to “democratize” documentary filmmaking sound awfully dated in the digital age, as does the invective he directs towards television. His frustration might be understandable, but frankly if you cannot get anyone with a financial stake to share your vision for a project, perhaps that ought to tell you something – especially considering his filmography includes the sharply critical Ku Klux Klan—the Invisible Empire produced for CBS in 1965.

Regardless, Weiner cannot seem to get enough of her teacher’s words of wisdom. Granted, Leacock had a distinctive voice, but his opinions are not always as timeless as his best films. She also loves to watch him cook, which is fine the first few times we watch him putter about the kitchen.

The result is a moderately interesting oral history of documentary filmmaking probably best suited to the television Leacock so brusquely dismissed. Tilton’s Jazz Dance is highly recommended for all audiences (check out Jeff Van Gundy getting down around the 8:06 mark), whereas Ricky on Leacock is strictly for those who have an abiding fascination with the work of Leacock and select collaborators, like Pennebaker and Flaherty. It screens through Thursday (8/16) at the IFC Center in New York and then runs for a week (8/17-8/23) at the Laemmle Noho 7 in Los Angeles as part of the 2012 edition of DocuWeeks.

LFM GRADE: C

Posted on August 13th, 2012 at 1:37pm.

LFM Reviews Painted Skin: The Resurrection

Xun Zhou in "Painted Skin 2: The-Resurrection."

By Joe Bendel. Can you have sympathy for a demon like Xiao Wei? You might if she looked like Zhou Xun. Her story is indeed a tragic one, rooted in heartaches past. Nonetheless, as a fox demon, she must constantly consume human hearts. Still, she yearns to become human herself in Wuershan’s wuxia paranormal romance Painted Skin: The Resurrection (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Those who have not seen the previous Painted Skin (or King Hu’s prior adaptation of the Pu Songling story) should not be concerned. The sequel is practically a complete reboot. Xiao Wei is doing her thing once again, tearing men’s hearts out (literally), with only the bird demon Quer for companionship. As she preys on powerful men, she hopes in vain someone will willingly and knowingly offer theirs up to her, so that she may become human again. The clock is ticking, though. A looming solar eclipse may spell the end of her.

Suddenly deliverance might have arrived in an unlikely form, when a warrior with a smoldering heart “rescues” Xiao Wei from marauders. However, this is no hero—this is the Princess Jing, masking herself to hide the scars she received in a rather nasty teenaged encounter with a bear. General Hou Xin blames himself for that incident. He also still harbors a forbidden love for the Princess he failed, which she reciprocates. Yet, even the true blue palace guard is no match for a fox demon’s bewitchments, setting the stage for a supernatural love triangle. Meanwhile, the rival Tian Liang clan is making threatening noises. Unfortunately, the Princess and her General are distracted by the agitation caused by Xiao Wei’s presence. That’s what happens when you have a demon in your midst.

From "Painted Skin 2."

Then again, Xiao Wei is not really the villain in this story. Her yearning to live is somewhat akin to Larry Talbot’s search for the secret of death in the classic Universal Wolfman films, except Zhou Xun is obviously no Lon Chaney, Jr. to look at – not by a long shot. As Quer the bird demon Mi (Mimi) Yang is also cute as a button. In fact, she develops some surprisingly sweet romantic chemistry with Pang, an unprepossessing demon hunter, by virtue of his bloodline. It is a surprisingly appealing turn by Feng Shaofeng, evolving from somewhat cringy comic relief into a legit secondary hero.

For a special effects-laden tale of demons and swordplay, Resurrection has unexpected depth of feeling and a third act reversal that works quite well, at least before Wuershan resorts to the Harry Potter-esque thunder-and-wrath climax. The real fireworks involve the two alluring co-leads. Blessed with an extraordinary expressiveness (check her out in Equation of Love and Death, if you can), Zhou renders the fox demon as a fully dimensional, deeply tragic figure. Though Zhao Wei occasional flirts with melodramatic excess, as Princess Jing, she effectively expresses romantic longing while totally rocking the Phantom of the Opera-style mask. Chen Kun’s Hou broods and pines well enough, while Yang and Feng consistently inject energy and verve into the proceedings. Unfortunately, the evil Tians are not well defined, though Chen Tincha and Fei “Kris Phillips” Xiang certainly look menacing as the dastardly clan princess and sorcerer, respectively.

Featuring several dangerous women, a few men who are a bit slow on the uptake, and a whole lot of frustrated ardor, Resurrection is a far better date movie than most wuxia epics. It is also a great showcase for Zhou. Recommended for her fans and those who appreciate big, dark uncanny spectacles with a strong human element, Painted Skin: The Resurrection opens this Friday (8/17) in New York at the AMC Empire and in San Francisco at the AMC Metreon and Cupertino.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on August 13th, 2012 at 1:35pm.

Talking With Director Benh Zeitlin About Beasts of the Southern Wild

By Govindini Murty. Benh Zeitlin’s Beasts of the Southern Wild has garnered much acclaim on the film festival circuit and is one of the top indie films in theatrical release right now, having already earned $5.9 million at the box office. The story of a little girl and her father struggling to survive in the flooded bayou of southern Louisiana, Beasts of the Southern Wild won the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance, the Camera D’Or at Cannes, and the Audience Favorite Award at the LA Film Festival. There is already talk that it may be nominated for an Oscar for Best Film, and that Quvenzhané Wallis, the film’s remarkable eight-year old lead, may be nominated for an Oscar for Best Actress.

We had the opportunity to attend the premiere of Beasts of the Southern Wild at the LA Film Festival this summer and enjoyed the Q & A conducted afterward by John Singleton with director Benh Zeitlin and the film’s stars, the irrepressible Quvenzhané Wallis (who utterly stole the show) and the charming baker-turned-actor Dwight Henry.

We spoke briefly with Benh Zeitlin after the screening and also met John Singleton, who expressed repeatedly what a fan he was of the film. Here’s the conversation I had with Zeitlin, followed by excerpts from the Q & A that Singleton held with Zeitlin, Wallis, and Henry.  While there were a variety of topics discussed in the Q & A, my focus here is on the comments that Zeitlin made about the creative and practical aspects of translating his vision to the big screen.

Director Benh Zeitlin at the LA Film Festival.

GM: I was curious about your influences. Were you quoting anyone specific in the film? What inspired you – either in classic or contemporary film?

BZ: The big one for me is this film called Underground by Kusturica. That’s the one that made me most want to make films when I was growing up … the way that the fantasy and reality worked in that film I think was a big deal. And then we watched a lot of documentaries – we watched a lot of Les Blank documentaries. This one called Dry Wood – and all those ‘70s films that he made – were kind of how we came up with the cinematography. But you know, I studied the way that Cassavetes directs actors and Mike Leigh directs actors – and looking at narrative from Disney movies, like Bambi [Zeitlin himself has a background in animation and his parents are folklorists]. So, really, it was from all over the place, from all eras – from high-brow to low-brow – sort of a broad world.

GM: That’s interesting. You mention Les Blank – did you see Burden of Dreams, about Werner Herzog making Fitzcarraldo?

BZ: Oh yeah, of course. Werner Herzog, absolutely.

GM: Because [Beasts of the Southern Wild] just reminded me – the atmosphere – the organic feeling of being in the mud with the animals and the wilderness all around –

BZ: Definitely, yeah. He was a huge inspiration for me. The first time I saw that film I was like “This is what I want to do.”

GM: I interviewed Werner Herzog a few months ago and there’s some great footage from that film [Les Blank’s Burden of Dreams] that’s online. But you know, I was curious, because the film has that blend [of reality and fantasy] that you were mentioning. But I didn’t know about Bambi, that’s going to be interesting to throw in there –

BZ: [Laughs.] You got to go back to Bambi, always got to go back to Bambi.

GM: Well thanks so much, that was fun to see.

BZ: Thanks very much, nice to meet you.

Beasts of the Southern Wild tells the story of Hushpuppy (Quvenzhané Wallis), a six-year old girl growing up on an island off the coast of Louisiana known as “The Bathtub.” The story follows Hushpuppy and her widower father, Wink (Dwight Henry), as they eke out a living on their small plot of land – with the little girl caring for their farm animals and living in tune with the rhythms of the natural world. Her father, who has a mysterious illness, almost like a latter-day Fisher King, teaches Hushpuppy how to fish and emphasizes that she needs to learn how to take care of herself so she can succeed in the world and climb to the “top of the ladder.”

The island community of the Bathtub might lie in the shadow of New Orleans and Lake Pontchartrain, but its rural lifestyle feels a world away. To emphasize this, Beasts was shot in a documentary-verité style on 16mm film, which, when blown up on a large screen, creates a grainy, mysterious image that paradoxically heightens the mythological and poetic themes of the film. Hushpuppy’s view of the world is thus depicted in an alternately realistic and fantastical manner that Benh Zeitlin called “a heightened world built out of very real parts.” For example, Zeitlin noted that though there is no place called the Bathtub in Louisiana, it was based on the real Isle de Jean Charles, an island that is slowly falling into the Gulf and that has gone from 200 families to 20 families in recent years. As Zeitlin explains, “we took elements of things and swirled them together – almost like a folk tale.” Continue reading Talking With Director Benh Zeitlin About Beasts of the Southern Wild