Month: November 2013

LFM’s Govindini Murty at The Huffington Post: A Conversation With Director Robert Stone of Pandora’s Promise; Film Debuts Tonight (11/7) on CNN

[Editor’s Note: the post below appears today at The Huffington Post.]

By Govindini Murty. There are few things more important than the energy that powers our civilization. And yet, generating that energy involves difficult trade offs between human progress and the environment. Whether it was Prometheus who stole fire from the gods or Pandora who opened Zeus’ box, the human desire for knowledge and development has often conflicted with nature’s implacable will.

Nothing symbolizes this more in the modern age than nuclear power. Academy Award-nominated director Robert Stone’s provocative new documentary Pandora’s Promise, airing November 7th on CNN, takes a surprising look at this most controversial of energy technologies. I saw Pandora’s Promise earlier this year at the Sundance Film Festival and interviewed Robert Stone in person about this much-debated film.

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Robert Stone "Pandora's Promise."

Pandora’s Promise interviews a series of notable environmentalists who were formerly anti-nuclear activists but who changed their minds and became proponents of nuclear energy (director Robert Stone himself made this journey). Stewart Brand, Michael Shellenberger, Mark Lynas, and Gwyneth Craven make their case for why nuclear power (which gives off no CO2 emissions) is the best option for fulfilling the rapidly growing energy needs of the planet without increasing fossil fuel consumption.

Although I had a considerable bar of skepticism to overcome given the high-profile nuclear accidents that have occurred, the film did take the time to examine these. Stone and his subjects traveled to the Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, and Fukushima nuclear plants and examined the design flaws that led to their infamous accidents (Chernobyl, for example, had no containment structure). The film argues that such reactors would never be built today.

Pandora’s Promise also interviews nuclear scientists about what it states are the vastly better fourth generation of nuclear reactors (for which Bill Gates is funding some of the research) that can recycle their own fuel and are impossible to melt down. The film contrasts this with the thousands of coal power plants that are being built in China and the developing world today at enormous environmental cost.

A cube of uranium in "Pandora's Promise."

While I don’t know if nuclear energy is the answer (I’d like to know a lot more first), Pandora’s Promise did open my eyes to the costs of renewable energy, such as with wind and solar (wind uses oil and gas-powered backup generators, solar panels are toxic to manufacture). It also inspired me to think that there may be cleaner, more high-tech options on the horizon to generate energy – options we don’t even know about, but that are worth rigorously investigating.

Beyond the specific issue of nuclear energy, however, the most interesting aspect of Pandora’s Promise is that it highlights the ethical imperative of using science to lift billions of people around the world out of poverty. This focus on improving human lives and alleviating poverty is notably missing from many discussions of the subject.

For example, when I lived a year in Borneo as a teenager while my mother worked on an agricultural development project, the tribes-people we visited in the rainforest would raise the question: why should they remain poor and undeveloped while we in the West enjoyed all the comforts of electricity and technology? Similarly, a bright and idealistic cousin of mine who works in the electric utilities field in India asked me what right the developed world has to demand that India not build more power plants when electricity is crucial to improving the lives of hundreds of millions of their poor? Continue reading LFM’s Govindini Murty at The Huffington Post: A Conversation With Director Robert Stone of Pandora’s Promise; Film Debuts Tonight (11/7) on CNN

The Iranian New Wave: LFM Reviews Dead End

By Joe Bendel. It sounds creepy, but it was not uncommon practice for Iranian men to follow prospective wives as part of their due diligence. The men were supposed to be cautious and the women were supposed to be grateful. One revolution later, certain things remain the same, if not more so. As a result, one young woman jumps to conclusions when she recognizes a distinguished looking man haunting her street in Parviz Sayyad’s Dead End, which screens during the Asia Society’s Iranian New Wave 1960’s-1970’s film retrospective.

Pretty but hopelessly naïve, the young woman living with her widowed mother has strangely not received much attention from marriageable men. Initially, she is somewhat confused when she notices the tall mystery man loitering outside their flat. Since they live on the titular dead end street, there is not much to bring him to their neighborhood. Assuming he has honorable intentions, she quickly starts fantasizing about their potential union. However, Sayyad constantly slips viewers hints the unmarried woman’s hopes will not be consummated.

Considered a not-so veiled critique of the Shah’s rule, Dead End remains banned by the Islamist regime. It is not hard to see why, given its overt themes of surveillance. There is also a rather biting subtext regarding gender inequalities that is even more subversive under the Revolutionary government.

From "Dead End."

There is indeed plenty of open anger in Dead End, but it never sacrifices the highly personal drama for the sake of polemics. This is first and foremost the woman’s story, as painful and demoralizing as we expect it will be. Mary Apik’s lead performance is exquisitely sensitive, conveying a lifetime of disappointments and the acute vulnerability of her circumstances. It is a necessarily restrained performance, but it is hard to shake its quiet power. In contrast, Parviz Bahador projects an apt air of danger, yet is also quite charismatic in a coolly severe sort of way as the man following her.

While Jamsheed Akrami’s Lost Cinema provides some useful cultural context to fully appreciate Dead End, patrons should also bear in mind it gives away the emotionally devastating final twist. Still, many scenes take on additional significance when viewers know what fate ultimately holds in store for the woman. Regardless, both films are fitting selections for the Asia Society’s Iranian New Wave film series. In fact, Dead End is arguably a classic of world cinema that unquestionably ought to be more widely seen. Highly recommended, it screens this Saturday (11/9) with Sayyad and Akrami scheduled to participate in a Q&A session afterwards.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on November 5th, 2013 at 11:11pm.

Because Life Wasn’t Weird Enough Without It: LFM Reviews The Visitor

By Joe Bendel. Atlanta is a sinful city, where every damn street is called Peachtree. A cosmic warrior has come to straighten things out here. He will do battle with the pre-pubescent girl who has made the world such a crummy place in the ever-so strange 1979 Italian-produced sci-fi knock-off, The Visitor, directed by Giulio Paradisi as Michael J. Paradise, which has been re-mastered and re-released by Drafthouse Films.

In a dimension “beyond imagination,” a mysterious old man seeks out the remnants of the evil Sateen, a demonic entity he vanquished eons ago. Evidently, some of his old foe’s essence ended up on earth, specifically within Barbara Collins’s ancestors. She is one of the rare carriers who can give birth to his malevolent offspring. Unfortunately, she already has one child, the dreadful little Katy. Her boyfriend Raymond Armstead is pressuring her to get married and have more children, because he is part of an apocalyptic secret society that frequently holds awkward board meetings devoted to promoting evil. Collins resists, ostensibly for the sake of her freedom. However, she is also instinctively against anything Katy is for.

You might think the bad guys would do anything to protect the birthing abilities of the only woman who can deliver Sateen’s bad seeds. Well, obviously you are not part of an international satanic cult. Poor Collins is shot, partially paralyzed, run off the road, and attacked by a falcon. Yet, despite all the stress, her skin remains remarkably clean and radiant. As Armstead and Katy plot against her, the gaunt Jerzy Colsowicz arrives to do battle with Sateen’s spawn. That’s right, it’s a frail septuagenarian versus an eight year-old, so get ready to rumble.

It goes without saying The Visitor is a strange film. Everyone compares it to The Omen and Close Encounters, but Paradisi/Paradise probably rips-off The Birds more than anything else. For whatever reason, bird attacks seem to be the weapon of choice for good guys and bad guys alike. It is just plain baffling anyone thought this film could cash in on the late 1970’s sci-fi craze, but it boasts a truly once-in-a-lifetime cast, including John Huston (the John Huston), Lance Henriksen, Glenn Ford, Franco Nero (uncredited as the Christ-like figure), Shelley Winters, Switchblade Sisters’ Joanne Nail, Mel Ferrer, Sam Peckinpah (the Sam Peckinpah), and future Libertarian radio talk show host Neal Boortz. Get your head around that ensemble.

Frankly, Huston looks rather bemused in each of his scenes as Colsowicz and it is a good bet he never even bothered to watch the finished product. Ford and Winters soldier through like the old pros they are, playing the cop and the nanny, respectively. Eventual fan favorite Henriksen also shows an early affinity for scenery chewing as Armstead. In truth, aside from maybe Huston and Nero, nobody really phoned The Visitor in, but it is anyone’s guess what they thought they were doing in this convoluted, New Agey plot. There are times the film appears to be conceived as a showcase for Atlanta’s modernist architecture, which makes as much sense as any other explanation.

Visitor’s special effects are crude and confusing, even by 1970’s standards, but in its straight-forward dramatic scenes, the picture looks surprisingly slick. Naturally, even the music “borrows” from another film, but it must be conceded Franco Micallizzi’s riff on Strauss’ “Zarathustra” is oddly catchy, in a funky (arranger) David Matthews-Kudu Records kind of way.

If you don’t get The Visitor by now, you’re on your own. If you enjoy completely cracked cult cinema, this is your catnip. Impressive in its way, The Visitor demands to be seen to be believed. Recommended for those who can appreciate the sheer defiant spectacle of it all, The Visitor screens this weekend (11/8 & 11/9) at the IFC Center in New York.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on November 5th, 2013 at 11:08pm.

Another Sleepless Night in Paris: LFM Reviews Paris Countdown

By Joe Bendel. Victor and Milan ought to stick to slinging drinks. Delivering a shipment of cash to a Mexican cartel predictably turns out to be really bad way to work off their debts. It leads to all kinds of problems in Edgar Marie’s Paris Countdown, which opens this Friday in New York.

It was all Milan’s fault and Victor is not about to forget it. Forced to accompany his partner to Juarez, Victor gets the worst of it when the Federales bust their hand-off. After a rough interrogation session, they are “convinced” to testify against their French contact, the psychotic Serki, whom the nightclub proprietors know will come looking for revenge if he ever gets out of prison. That is exactly what happens six years later.

Victor has not talked to Milan since their Mexican misadventure. He still bears the scars and the hearing aid from his close encounter with a power drill. Yes, he is carrying a grudge, so when Wilfried, his mobbed-up sushi restauranteur colleague, offers him the chance to set-up Milan, he matter-of-factly agrees. However, Victor finds betrayal is far more difficult once he comes face-to-face with his former friend again. Against his better judgment, Victor will flee into the night with Milan, trying to stay one step ahead of Wilfried’s henchmen and the slightly put-out Serki.

From "Paris Countdown."

Countdown is aesthetically reminiscent of several recent French noirs, including Frederic Jardin’s more action-oriented Sleepless Night and Philippe Lefebrve’s massively cool, character-driven Paris By Night. In terms of style, Countdown essentially splits the difference between the two. Frankly, it is not as accomplished as either, but it still has its merits. In fact, the world-weariness of its primary protagonists and general vibe of nocturnal angst are quite compelling. Neither Milan nor Victor is any sort of action hero. Clearly, both are physically past their prime, struggling to deal with their night of madness.

Olivier Marchal (the director of the similarly hardboiled 36th Precinct) is appropriately haggard yet appealing roguish as the exceptionally irresponsible Milan. Jacques Gamblin clearly has less fun as Victor, but he is convincingly nebbish as the sad sack. Unfortunately, Carlo Brandt’s Serki looks even older and more broken down than they do, making him a problematic villain.

As a thriller, Countdown has enough atmosphere and attitude to get the job done. For his feature directorial debut, Marie shows a competent command of the elements, but the MVPs are clearly Marchal and cinematographer Danny Elsen, who gives it a fitting Miami Vice-like sheen. Recommended for fans of French thrillers, Paris Countdown opens this Friday (11/8) in New York at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on November 5th, 2013 at 11:05pm.

The Iranian New Wave: LFM Reviews The Lost Cinema

By Joe Bendel. In a bitterly ironic twist of history, the filmmakers associated with the Iranian New Wave helped usher into power the regime that would continue and intensify their oppression. Politically conscious and aesthetically adventurous, the movement essentially came to an end with the 1979 Islamic Revolution it fueled. Jamsheed Akrami’s The Lost Cinema surveys these films that remain largely unseen within Iran, essentially serving as a series overview when it screens as part of the Asia Society’s latest retrospective series, Iranian New Wave 1960s-1970s.

Much like the Asia Society’s series, Lost Cinema starts with Dariush Mehrjui’s The Cow, a film secretly submitted to the Venice Film Festival, where it won the Critics’ Award. Sound familiar? Probably what made Merhjui’s film so politically incorrect was its depiction of abject rural poverty at a time when the Shah was trumpeting Iran’s modernization. Of course, it is easy to understand why the portrayal of the deceitful secret policeman in Parviz Sayyad’s Dead End continued to be banned under the Revolutionary Islamic government.

Likewise, a tale of allegorical repression and revolution such as Bahman Farmanara’s Tall Shadows of the Wind became even more radioactive. Even an ostensibly apolitical documentary like Manouchehr Tayyab’s Religions in Iran remained on the outs after the revolution. A kind of visual essay comparing and contrasting the religions officially sanctioned by the Shah (Islam, Christianity, Judaism, and Zoroastrianism), it more or less placed all four on equal footing. Right, one can see how that would be a problem with the new bosses.

From "The Lost Cinema."

Although everyone loathes admitting it, the Shah’s rule comes off sounding comparatively less monolithic than that of the Ayatollah. After all, these films were largely funded by the government, which reportedly enjoyed the international prestige they generated. The filmmakers and state agencies seemed to be engaged a strange dance of denial, but after the Revolution (and what one filmmaker describes as an initial “four months of freedom”) artistic freedom was curtailed even more severely than before. Indeed, the fact so many of the featured filmmakers were interviewed in exile speaks volumes.

While Akrami only examines a small number of films in detail, he includes representative features, shorts, and documentaries. In some cases, the analysis can be a bit spoilery, but they also provide specific cultural context for a fuller appreciation of each film. It is a lucid introduction to some heavily allegorical films. Recommended for students of film and Persian culture, The Lost Cinema screens this Friday (11/8) at the Asia Society, with Akrami participating in a Q&A afterwards. (As a side note, New Yorkers may also want to catch series curator La Frances Hui appearing on CUNY-TV City Cinematheque to discuss Tran Ahn Hung’s Scent of Green Papayas.)

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on November 4th, 2013 at 6:40pm.

The Origin Story That Just Won’t Die: LFM Reviews The Birth of the Living Dead

By Joe Bendel. It came from Pittsburgh. That is where George A. Romero had carved out a business shooting television commercials for local clients. Of course, he harbored filmmaking ambitions. Eventually, his upstart debut would revolutionize horror cinema, spawning all kinds of controversy and imitators. Yet, at the time, Romero was not at all certain he would be able to complete production and post on the now classic The Night of the Living Dead. Rob Kuhns goes straight to the source for his behind the scenes look at the making and legacy of the zombie classic in The Birth of the Living Dead, which opens this Wednesday in New York at the IFC Center.

It has been over forty years since the original Living Dead was first released with little fanfare in an old school midtown grindhouse theater. Despite uniformly negative reviews (from the few critics who even bothered to cover it), Romero’s classic took on a life of its own. In fact, the entire city of Pittsburgh had already sort of rallied behind it, perhaps inspired by local late night creature feature TV host Bill Cardille’s weekly drumbeat of publicity (you can spot him late in the film as the newsman interviewing the sheriff). During production, the police department provided helicopters free of charge and many of Romero’s customers appeared as zombies.

One of the cool things about Birth is the way Romero vividly remembers each and every extra. Those who have seen the film countless times will be fascinated to learn how many cast members also performed crucial functions off-screen. Romero’s co-producer Russell Streiner (instantly recognizable as Barbara’s ill-fated brother) emerges as a particularly resourceful figure. Kuhns also includes an endearing stinger-tribute to the late Bill Hinzman, the first zombie who chases her into the farmhouse.

Visually, Birth is also fan-friendly, featuring Gary Pullin’s distinctive comic art to illustrate various stages of the production. It will further reassure diehards to know the doc comes via Glass Eye Pix, with Larry Fessenden on board as both a talking head and executive producer.

In a bizarre turn, Birth periodically visits a Bronx middle school, where a teacher uses Night of the Living Dead as part of his “Literacy through Film” course. Yes, this is a classic film with considerable subtext, but showing graphic depictions of cannibalism in the classroom is wholly inappropriate. Evidently, “de-sensitize them early” is the Board of Ed’s motto. Only in New York.

Kuhns is on stronger footing examining the wider cultural significance of Night. According to Romero, Ben the central POV character, was not originally written as an African American, but Duane Jones just nailed the audition. Nonetheless, the added implications of the final scene would have been hard to miss, especially since Romero was consciously incorporating images of 1960’s civil strife.

If you are a mature adult, at least old enough to vote, you really ought to be familiar with Night of the Living Dead. While Birth offers some shallow general political analysis of the late 1960’s, it specifically contextualizes Romero’s film quite adroitly. Recommended for zombie aficionados who want to deepen their Living Dead viewing experience, Birth of the Living Dead opens this Wednesday (11/6) at the IFC Center.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on November 4th, 2013 at 6:37pm.