Day: October 1, 2014

LFM Reviews Pasolini @ The New York Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. In 1926, Pier Paolo Pasolini’s father foiled an attempt to assassinate Benito Mussolini. Unfortunately, there would be nobody to intercede when Pasolini fils was murdered, most likely by a gay hustler, but the Italian auteur’s death has almost spawned as many conspiracy theories as the Kennedy assassination. The filmmaker’s final days are now the subject of Abel Ferrara’s speculative passion play, Pasolini, which screens during the 52nd New York Film Festival.

Ferrara’s affinity for Pasolini makes perfect sense, given the penchant they share for sexually and religiously charged subject matter. As Ferrara’s film opens, Pasolini is wrapping post-production on his Marquis de Sade opus, Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom. To this day, it remains one of the most controversial and difficult films ever produced by a prestige filmmaker. Of course, Pasolini was always an extreme figure, politically and aesthetically (holding the dubious distinction of having been expelled from the Italian Communist Party on moral grounds).

Ferrara builds an atmosphere of foreboding and paranoia, clearly inviting the audience to suspect anyone so uncompromising must be a danger to the powers that be. Yet, Pasolini recklessly indulges in the hedonistic lifestyle that will ultimately kill him. Ferrara intercuts his prowling about Rome’s seedy night spots with scenes from the outlandish allegory that would have been his next film: Porno-Teo-Kolossal, a sort of riff on the Biblical Three Wise Men, in which an old Holy fool’s pilgrimage takes him to Sodom’s traditional orgy, where the city’s gays and lesbians come together to procreate.

Truly, Pasolini reflects both the absolute worst and best of Ferrara’s instincts. It is talky, pretentious, and features more explicit gay sex than any non-homophobic straight cineaste ever needs to see. Yet, the operatic sweep of it all is rather overwhelming. Ferrara creates a pungent sense of 1970s Rome, simmering with crime and ideology. Dark and sleazy, it all radiates malevolence thanks to cinematography Stefano Falivene.

From "Pasolini."

Frankly, Willem Dafoe, a frequent Ferrara co-conspirator, makes a downright spooky Pasolini stand-in. He is so gaunt and dissipated looking, the audience might throw him an intervention if he appears at a screening. Watching him play out Pasolini’s final days is like watching a ghost. For better or worse, it is his film and perhaps his career role, but it is also quite eerie to see Pasolini favorite Ninetto Davoli wayfaring through the “Maestro’s” unmade film.

Pasolini is bold auterist filmmaking and a quality period production. It is also rather a mess, but it should not be lightly dismissed. Despite or because of Ferrara’s myriad excesses, when you walk out of his Pasolini, you know you saw a film. Recommended for fans of Ferrara and Pasolini at their most Ferrara and Pasolini, Ferrara’s Pasolini screens this Thursday (10/2) at Alice Tully Hall and Friday (10/3) at the Gilman, as Main Slate selection of this year’s NYFF.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on October 1st, 2014 at 12:32pm.

LFM Reviews ’71 @ The New York Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. Thanks to Scotland’s independence referendum, Northern Ireland will probably get a taste of Devo Max. The increased autonomy would hardly have satisfied the irrationally violent “Provisional” IRA in the 1970s. One British soldier stranded in the wrong neighborhood will try to elude the faction’s death squad, but there will be other interested parties also hunting him in Yann Demange’s ’71, which screened as a Main Slate selection of the 52nd New York Film Festival.

Private Gary Hook’s unit has been hurriedly dispatched to Belfast, which is just as much a part of the UK as Piccadilly Circus or Leicester Square. Yet, it is most definitely dangerous duty. On his first waking day in Northern Ireland, Hook finds himself facing down a mob. Trying to build trust, the relatively green Lieutenant sent them out in berets rather than flak helmets. In retrospect, this was a mistake. As the chaos spirals out of control, Hook and his mate Thompson are separated from the unit. Thompson takes a bullet to the head from a Provisional assassin, but Hook is able to elude the gunman and his partner.

Hook finds a temporary refuge, but he has no idea how to reach his barracks. He is surrounded by a Catholic population that would either like to kill him or is too frightened of the various IRA contingents to protect him. Nevertheless, he finds a guide in the form of the rabble-rousing seven year old nephew of a high-ranking Protestant paramilitary. Unfortunately, this only leads to more trouble, when Hook narrowly survives an accidental bomb detonation that could deeply embarrass a small detachment of sinister British intelligence officers. Hook’s death would be quite convenient for them.

’71 has an overpowering sense of place, but instead of Belfast, it was shot in Liverpool, Blackburn, Sheffield, and Leeds, which does not say much for those municipalities’ urban ambiance. It looks like the entire city is a housing project (or an estate in British parlance). As night falls, Tat Radcliffe’s cinematography becomes ghostly and disorienting, perfectly mirroring Hook’s increasingly confused state and powerfully reinforcing the edgy vibe.

Rising star Jack O’Connell looks ridiculously young and lost in the grim, battle-scarred world, but that is the whole point. In fact, he is quite effective as an earnest and innocent POV figure for the audience to identify with. Many of the assorted combatants rather blur together, but David Wilmot stands out as Boyle, the local old guard IRA leader. Babou Ceesay (who deserves to become a series regular after his guest spot on last season’s Lewis) is also terrific as the hard but decent Corporal. However, Corey McKinley upstages everyone as Hook’s ferocious young ally (evidently W.C. Fields was right, even in Belfast).

Despite portraying some pretty savage behavior on the part of the IRA factions and their sympathizers, Demange and screenwriter Gregory Burke go out of their way to paint the British Army in a negative light. (I’d still trust the honor and professionalism of Her Majesty’s armed forces over any other military, aside from America’s armed services.) Regardless, Demange crafts a tight, tense white knuckle night of the soul. He certainly proves he can stage a riot. Although they are radically different in many respects, the one film ’71 consistently brings to mind is Carol Reed’s absolutely classic Odd Man Out, which is a heavy statement. Recommended on balance for patrons who appreciate gritty military thrillers, ’71 screened as part of this year’s NYFF.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on October 1st, 2014 at 12:32pm.

LFM Reviews Stephen King’s A Good Marriage

By Joe Bendel. Frankly, you probably wouldn’t want to see Stephen King’s idea of a bad marriage. For twenty-five years, Bob and Darcy Anderson’s union has indeed been pretty strong. Then she started to realize she married a coin collecting accountant from Maine. Her suspicion that the loyal hubbie might be a serial killer does not help much, either. Pillow talk gets awkward in Stephen King’s A Good Marriage, which opens this Friday in New York.

Good old Bob Anderson has always been faithful to Darcy and a reliable provider for their now grown children. She always thought his only quirk was his weekend trips scouring estate sales for collectible coins. Then she happens across his secret stash in the garage. Let’s just say there are no Buffalo Head nickels in there. Unfortunately, Mrs. Anderson is terrible at keeping secrets. Almost immediately, Mr. Anderson realizes what happened and promises to reform, but his wife remains highly conflicted and unnerved, for obvious reasons.

Directed by Peter Askin and adapted by King himself, from a short story in Full Dark, No Stars (hence the name in the title, a la Mary Shelly or Bram Stoker), SK’s AGM should be an event for his fans. It is his first screenplay since Pet Cemetery way back in 1989—and it is a pretty good one, but it might be overshadowed by the Rader family controversy. Recently the daughter of the BTK Killer, on whom the “Beattie” serial killer in SK’s AGM is admittedly based, objected to the film on the grounds that it is insensitive to her father’s victims. Understandably, King has diplomatically taken exception, especially since none of the victim families have objected.

Let’s not kid ourselves—every serial killer movie is exploitative to some extent, but SK’s AGM is much less so than most. All of Bob Anderson’s foul deeds are scrupulously left off screen. Instead, King’s adaptation is more of an old school claustrophobic thriller, in the tradition of Sorry, Wrong Number. Viewers do have to buy into the premise that Anderson’s closest family remained oblivious to his predatory urges, but evidently that sort of thing happens.

From "Stephen King’s A Good Marriage."

Joan Allen also helps sell it tremendously. Her Darcy Anderson is many things, but she is not a passive victim. In fact, there is a moral ambiguity to her performance that is quite effective. Anthony LaPaglia also hits the exact right notes as “Beattie” Bob. Sure, he is a little off, but only just a little, so it is relatively easy to believe he escaped suspicion for so long. It is not quite Simon Oakland’s eleventh hour cameo in Psycho, but Stephen Lang has some nice moments that come very late in the game.

Thanks to Askin’s strong mechanics and King’s tight plotting, SK’s AGM is a pretty tense little thriller. It is a good film that ought to be considered on its own merits, separate from the current controversies and King’s more supernatural oeuvre. This is a hard week for marriage in cinematic terms, with SK’s AGM, The Blue Room, and Gone Girl all hitting theaters this Friday (10/3), but each one is worth seeing. Recommended for fans of dark psychological thrillers, Stephen King’s A Good Marriage opens in New York at the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on October 1st, 2014 at 12:32pm.

LFM Reviews Last Hijack @ The New York Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. According to the Oceans Beyond Piracy project, over 1,000 international seamen have been held hostage by Somali pirates—roughly a third of whom were tortured and 62 died from a variety of causes. Yet, it sure is more convenient to cast the pirates as victims of colonialism, globalism, capitalism, and generally mean old westernism. However, films trying to advance that narrative have been less than convincing, despite the quality of their execution. Sort of picking up where Greenglass’s Captain Phillips left off, Tommy Pallotta & Femke Wilting offer a personal and figurative defense of high seas plunder in their animated hybrid documentary Last Hijack, which screens today as a Convergence selection of the 52nd New York Film Festival.

Former pirate Muhamed Nura pulled off a few big hijackings and lived to talk about. Unfortunately, he did not save any of his ransom money. Facing middle age with little prospects, Nura decides to assemble a team for one last job. However, times have changed and maritime security is much tighter. Everyone is against his plan, including his stern mother and his vastly younger fiancée. Nonetheless, he has no trouble lining up crew and financial backers.

Pallotta and Wilting clearly invite sympathy for Somali pirates, trying to position them as modern Jean Valjeans, but they bizarrely chose a distinctly unsympathetic POV character. During his screen time, Nura emerges as a rather rash braggart, who seems to have little concern for the consequences of his actions. Although he is supposedly in hard fiscal straights, he has a new wife and a new fixer-upper house, which does not look like such a bad situation.

In contrast, radio talk show host and anti-piracy advocate Abdifatah Omar Gedi cuts a more interesting (and more heroic) figure. During his on-camera sequences, Gedi’s cell phone never stops ringing, constantly receiving calls from strangers trying to determine his location. Frankly, viewers will quickly conclude Pallotta and Wilting chose the wrong person to build their film around.

At least Nura’s hijacking exploits lend themselves to the animated bird of prey interludes that incorporate Hisko Hulsing’s striking paintings. Their symbolically charged look and feel recalls the vibe of Damian Nenow’s short Paths of Hate and select moments of the original Heavy Metal. They are effective, whereas many of the straight forward doc segments are often a bit sluggish—snoozy even.

From "Last Hijack."

Last Hijack makes some legitimate points here and there, but like Captain Phillips, it never pursues the shadowy moneymen underwriting the hijackings. As a result, the attempts to build empathy for Nura fall flat. Drastically uneven, it offers tantalizing hints of a better, deeper film that might have resulted from different decisions at several critical junctures. Perhaps audiences will get more of what might have been at Pallotta & Wilting’s presentation of the film’s online component. Regardless, Last Hijack was largely disappointing when it screened last weekend at this year’s NYFF, in advance of its New York opening this Friday (10/3) at the Quad Cinema.

LFM GRADE: C

Posted on October 1st, 2014 at 12:31pm.

LFM Reviews The Decent One

By Joe Bendel. It is sort of like watching Hell’s production of A.R. Gurney’s Love Letters, because its correspondents have certainly earned damnation. Utilizing a cache of previously unseen letters and documents written by Heinrich Himmler and his family, documentarian Vanessa Lapa paints an uncomfortably intimate portrait of the Holocaust architect. Himmler proves just how banal evil can be in Lapa’s The Decent One, which opens this Wednesday at Film Forum.

The U.S. servicemen dispatched to retrieve whatever documents remained in the Himmler family safe kept them as souvenirs instead. Through some circuitous route, they eventually came into Lapa’s possession. For a historian, they represent a wealth of primary sources, but they should not stoke revisionist fears. Despite Himmler’s conscientious concern for their young daughter Gudrun, Himmler’s letters to wife Margarete never ameliorate his guilt.

There are moments when their domestic business is interrupted by shockingly off-hand anti-Semitic pronouncements (often on Margarete’s part), but the first half of the film largely consists of maddeningly prosaic correspondence and journal entries. Still, when Himmler suggests he and Margarete should number their letters, it arguably foreshadows his sinister efficiency (but it must have been a great help to Lapa and her research team).

Not to be spoilery, but Lapa eventually uses Himmler’s own words to establish his knowledge and culpability with respects to the Holocaust. Of course, all reasonable people of good conscience understand that already. She also exposes the hypocrisy of his outward righteousness through letters to his longtime mistress, but those are the least of his sins.

From "The Decent One."

Frankly the tangential approach of documentaries like Decent One risk losing sight of the big picture’s enormity. Perhaps this generation really needs a documentary that launches a frontal assault, overpowering the viewers with the scale and severity of suffering caused by the National Socialists, especially considering the rise of anti-Semitism in Western Europe and the Middle East.

Lapa’s film is skillfully constructed and undeniably well intentioned, but it is unlikely to inspire many epiphanies. It is good that greater historical background and context is now easily available, but it probably should not be the first or last film students see on National Socialist crimes against humanity. Respectfully recommended for viewers who already have a strong grounding in Holocaust history, The Decent One opens this Wednesday (10/1) at New York’s Film Forum.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on October 1st, 2014 at 12:31pm.