Month: January 2015

LFM Reviews I Touched All Your Stuff @ First Look 2015

By Joe Bendel. Strictly speaking, Christopher Kirk was not catfished or anything of the like. He knew the woman he called V. in the flesh, but she still played him for a sap. Truth is a slippery notion when it comes to their odd tale. One murky thing lead to another, resulting in a Brazilian prison sentence for Kirk. It is there María Bühler & Matias Mariani interviewed him for their documentary investigation-meditation I Touched All Your Stuff, which screens during the Museum of the Moving Image’s 2015 First Look (this year’s coverage is brought to you by the letter “I”).

Blame Pablo Escobar or maybe Keith Olbermann. Even if they are not directly at fault, they make the story even weirder. Kirk had done a number of interviews with media types like Olbermann after a house-sitting friend wrapped everything in his apartment with aluminum foil (leaving a note with the titular taunt). Kirk had already grown weary of the rat race (seriously, as an IT guy in Olympia, Washington?), so on a half-planned whim, he set off to visit a buddy in Colombia and see Pablo Escobar’s hippos. As the last remnant of the drug lord’s private wildlife park, the transplanted hippopotamus colony has grown and thrived in their new Colombian climate. At least things turned out well for them.

Kirk lost interest in the hippos when he met V., a more demur and studious acquaintance of his buddy’s party girl friends. Half Japanese and half Colombian, she is by all accountants quite stunning, but viewers will not know for certain, because every surviving picture of her is blurrier than the average Big Foot photo. Of course, that is also part of the film’s intrigue.

For a while Kirk and V maintained a pretty heavy long-distance relationship. Yet, in retrospect, Kirk identifies odd little moments he should have paid more attention to. Regardless, he could not ignore the suspicious circumstances when he started meeting her dodgy friends. Still, she kept him on the hook, because of obvious reasons.

Kirk is a natural born story teller and Bühler & Mariani have a keen sense of the film’s narrative structure, allowing the strangeness to steadily escalate. However, viewers should be cautioned not to emotionally invest in Kirk as a tragic protagonist. After all, he is in prison for something.

Stuff is the darnedest doc. Bühler & Mariani do not exactly connect every dot in V and Kirk’s mysterious lives, but the combination of what they know for sure and their working assumptions feels like ninety percent of the truth. Of course, that confounding ten percent is what fascinates and nags at the viewer.

There are probably a few too many scenes of skype and IM chats in Stuff, but its inherent mysteries and general attitude are quite compelling. Consider it a post-modern excursion into true crime or a documented urban legend. All that’s missing is a man with a hook. Highly recommended, I Touched All Your Stuff screens this Friday (1/16), as part of this year’s First Look at MoMI in Astoria, Queens.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on January 16th, 2015 at 12:58pm.

LFM Reviews I for Iran @ MoMA’s First Look 2015

I COMME IRAN de Sanaz Azari | CVB AUTEUR | BANDE-ANNONCE from CVB-VIDEP on Vimeo.

By Joe Bendel. You can find some rather unpleasant images and references in the text books of post-Islamic Revolutionary Iran. Nobody understands that better than an Iranian-Persian filmmaker’s Persian tutor. However, he still uses a problematic text due to a lack of better options. His language lessons will illuminate deeper truths in Sanaz Azari’s I for Iran, which screens during the Museum of the Moving Image’s 2015 First Look.

Azari was born in Iran, but lived in Brussels since early childhood. As a result, she did not speak Persian until she enrolled in classes as an adult. During her studies, she was struck by the way language carries cultural specific codes and meanings. This was particularly so with respects to Persia and Iranian identity, even and especially following the revolution. As he bemoans their textbook, Behrouz Majidi will expound on the beauties and ironies of Persian culture in a series of improvised lectures.

That might sound rather academic, but Majidi is the sort of screen presence who could read the Brussels phone book and keep the audience riveted. His delivery is sort of like vintage Mark Twain—drily witty and deceptively elliptical. Just when you think he is hopelessly off point, he brings each mini-monologue home with panache. At times he waxes nostalgic for lost Iranian treasures, like the storied Shirazi wine the Islamist government has long since forbidden. When he addresses current events, such as the 2013 presidential elections, his analysis also sounds pretty darn spot-on.

From "I for Iran."

Unfortunately, that means Majidi is more of a realist than an optimist. However, his love for Persian culture and nostalgia for the Iran that once was is wholly engaging and at times quite touching. In between his improvised riffs, Azari presents a sort of visual free association based on the particular Persian letter under discussion. Frankly, these seem to work better over time, with the latter chain of images taking on far more evident meaning. Still, for the most part, they just take viewers away from the heart of the film.

I for Iran might sound simple and in terms of its formal structure it certainly is. However, despite its mere fifty minute running time, it overflows with thoughtful insights on human nature and grand themes like freedom, cultural survival, and human dignity. For such an unassuming film, it really sticks with viewers. Even though it is hard to define its cinematic category and the exact nature of Majidi’s performance, it still ought to be a star-making turn. Surprisingly moving, I for Iran is very highly recommended when it screens this Saturday (1/17), with the equally difficult to classify International Tourism as part of this year’s First Look at MoMI.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on January 14th, 2015 at 11:10pm.

LFM Reviews Vice

By Joe Bendel. Evidently, Michael Crichton gave humanity too much credit in Westworld. Instead of using cutting edge android technology to facilitate adventures in the Old West and ancient Rome, Julian Michaels has built a Vegas-style resort, where rich pervs can commit sex crimes with impunity. However, when one android-resident escapes into the real world, her programmers will pull out all the stops to recapture her in Brian A. Miller’s Vice, which opens this Friday in New York.

Like Kenny on South Park, pretty much every night Kelly and her friend Melissa are killed by a guest. Their memories are wiped and their bodies are repaired, so they can be reactivated a few days later. This time, Michaels expedites the process, to cater to a big hedge fund party. Seriously, someone at his level should not be micromanaging this sort of day-to-day business. Regardless, they put a rush on Kelly’s maintenance, leaving behind memories that understandably alarm her. Not inclined to go back for more such treatment, she escapes from the resort-compound.

Naturally, Michaels wants her back ASAP, but he does not want the cops involved, particularly not his nemesis, Roy Tedeschi. The world weary detective blames Vice for stirring up bad impulses that then spill over onto his streets. Despite the risk to his career, he has made it his business to antagonize Michaels. He and Kelly really ought to get together, as you know they must eventually.

There are an awful lot of stupid decisions and unnecessary villainy coming from Michaels and his associates. Pedantically speaking, there really ought to be multiply-redundant safeguards in place to avoid a situation like this—embarrassing, but probably not illegal. Needless to say, Vice is a pale shadow compared to Crichton’s Westworld and it suffers from the lack of a heavy comparable to Yul Brynner’s gunslinger. Still, it delivers a reasonable mix of trashy entertainment through its credible near future world-building and voyeurism dressed up as moral righteousness.

As a mid-January release, it is probably safe to say Vice is not destined to be a major awards player, but at least none of the primary cast-members embarrass themselves. Ambyr Childers is not half bad portraying Kelly’s slow process of self-assertion. Likewise, Thomas Jane is sufficiently hardnosed as Tedeschi and Bruce Willis chews on a fair amount of scenery as Michaels. Charlotte Kirk also makes the most of her limited screen time as the perennially ill-fated Melissa. Frankly, both Childers and Jane easily exceed expectations. It is just too bad Andre Fabrizio & Jeremy Passmore’s script is so derivative and uninspired.

Indeed, Vice is the sort of film you want to rewrite as you watch it. The whole concept of the Vice resort ought to be a launching pad for some clever social commentary, but like its creepy clientele, it just brings out the worst in its screenwriters. Still, everyone whose face is on the poster gives it a fair try. It is diverting enough if you enjoy B-movies, but anyone primarily intrigued by the premise should catch up with the Crichton film instead. For those looking for some slightly lurid, light-on-the-technical-stuff science fiction, Vice opens this Friday (1/16) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: C+

Posted on January 14th, 2015 at 11:10pm.

LFM Reviews International Tourism @ MoMA’s First Look 2015

From "International Tourism."

By Joe Bendel. Sure, Frontline estimates one out of every one hundred North Koreans is a political prisoner and famines have been widespread, but if big clunky monuments are your thing, the DPRK is the place to be. Inconceivably, tourists do come to gawk at the enormous eye-sores dedicated to the Kim dynasty. Marie Voignier takes the tours, but she excises the commentary of her guides and minders (it is all just propaganda anyway) concentrating on the telling details found in the margins of the dysfunctional dystopia in International Tourism, which screens during the Museum of the Moving Image’s 2015 First Look.

Voignier’s approach is rather odd, but it can’t be called unfiltered. She certainly has an eye for telling juxtapositions, capturing the oppressive drabness of Pyongyang housing complexes, as well as the ostentatious kitsch of the omnipresent memorials. Clearly, this is not a healthy living environment. In fact, everything about North Korean architecture appears designed to make the individual feel insignificant and intimidated.

To her credit, Voignier also recognizes a dramatic moment when one happens, as when a tour guide in the Museum of American War Atrocities (or whatever it is) loses her cool when challenged by one of the visitors. Dissenting views are not something they are accustomed to dealing with over there. Apparently when in doubt, the guides fall back on regurgitating the dimensions and weights of the various granite monstrosities, so maybe tourists are better off with the outrageous lies and disinformation, which should at least keep them awake.

From "International Tourism."

Voignier also follows a tour through a North Korean film studio, where a conspicuously stilted and didactic propaganda film is in the works. At this point, it is worth noting Voignier conveys more truth in a mere forty-eight minutes with only background ambient noise for a soundtrack than Anna Broinowski’s offensively clueless brown-nosing in Aim High in Creation. Sadly, we might just be getting a sneak peak of what Hollywood’s future tent-poles will look like as studios and exhibitors continue to cower at Kim Jing-un’s shadow.

On some level, the passivity of Voignier’s method is somewhat problematic. Still, she peeks into the gap between the false façade the DPRK state apparatus presents to the world and the crummy reality its serfs endure. Recommended on balance for those who understand how to watch with critical eyes, International Tourism screens with the remarkably insightful I for Iran this Saturday (1/17), as part of this year’s First Look at MoMI.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on January 14th, 2015 at 11:09pm.

LFM Reviews New French Shorts at the IFC Center

By Joe Bendel. The original idea was to present a selection of French short films with prestigious festival credentials as a warm up for the My French Film Festival. However, the mood is sure to be drastically different from what anyone would have anticipated when UniFrance presents the third annual New French Shorts showcase at the IFC Center.

As the world reels from the terrorist attack on Charlie Hebdo, cineastes can take particularly comfort from Amélie Harrault’s Kiki of Montparnasse, because it represents everything we love about French culture and everything the Islamist killers would hate. Chronicling the life of a cultured and independent woman, it is elegant, artistic, and a bit racy. Alice Prin (a.k.a. Kiki) rose from humble beginnings to find fame as an artist’s model, torch singer, actress, and memoirist in the Parisian artists’ community of Montparnasse. It would be impossible to make a boring film about “the Queen of Montparnasse,” but Harrault’s short film is particularly inspired, altering the look of the animation to reflect the style of each successive artist Prin encounters, including Mondigliani and Man Ray.

Prin’s story is not all champagne and caviar, but it portrays Paris as we always want to think of the city. Bandine Lenoir’s The America of Womankind also offers a bit of sauciness (and Antoine Sahler’s fusiony trumpet gives the closing credits a nice kick), but it is more of a sketch than a narrative. While a teenaged girl and her boyfriend make the beast with two backs, her mother, grandmother, and aunts debate whether they should interrupt them or embrace their sex-positive attitude. It is somewhat amusing but inconsequential.

However, two of the programmed films explore the grittier side of contemporary France. Clément Tréhin-Lalanne’s Aïssa is the lesser of the two, serving more as a statement than a film. A young Congolese immigrant is seeking amnesty protection, claiming to be a distressed minor. However, a coldly bureaucratic medical examination may very well disprove her claim. Essentially, Aïssa is a one note film, but the vulnerability of Manda Touré’s performance is still impressive. It is also notable how the television-like aspect ratio gives it the feel of Super-8 micro docs.

Jean-Bernard Marin’s The Runaway addresses similar themes, but it is a fully developed narrative. Lakdar is a tough talking social worker, but he really cares about his charges, even the self-destructive ones like Sabrina. Through his efforts, she has landed a service industry trainee position, which might convince the court to sentence her to probation rather than a prison stretch, if she presents herself in a thoughtful, contrite manner. Alas, that might be too much to ask. Unfortunately, she might drag down Lakdar with her, as well.

As Lakdar, Adel Bencherif is absolutely terrific delivering a tragic, street level performance akin to what you might see in early Scorsese. Runaway is hardly a lecturing multicultural guilt trip either, emphasizing the flawed reality of human nature. Like Sabrine, an inmate in a Washington state women’s prison is a difficult case to help in Laure de Clermont-Tornerre’s Rabbit. She had committed to care for a dwarf rabbit as part of a counseling program designed to develop responsibility, but she might sabotage herself instead. Frankly, Rabbit is a perfectly presentable film, but the stakes and intensity cannot compare to Runaway.

French-based Chinese filmmaker Hu Wei’s docu-essay Butter Lamp might sound conspicuously out of place, but visually, it is unusually distinctive, so why not stretch the selection parameters? As an itinerant photographer and his assistant snap portraits of hardscrabble Tibetan families in front of anachronistic fake backdrops, Hu offers a shrewd commentary on the conflict between traditional Tibetan culture and globalization. Deceptively simple, it is actually quite cleverly executed.

Kiki of Montparnasse, The Runaway, and Butter Lamp are all excellent short films, under any circumstances. Of course, next week’s UniFrance showcase will be an opportunity to see them, as well as a time to express solidarity with the admirably iconoclastic Charlie Hebdo. Also recommended on strictly cinematic terms, the 2015 New French Shorts program screens this Wednesday (1/14) at the IFC Center.

Posted on January 14th, 2015 at 11:09pm.

LFM Reviews The Polgar Variánt @ New York Jewish Film Festival

From "The Polgar Variánt."

By Joe Bendel. Grandmaster Judit Polgár was like a female analog of Gary Kasparov. She had an aggressive attack on the chessboard and her Hungarian Jewish family had its share of trouble with the Communist regime. However, she also had two sisters who were nearly as good as she was. Yossi Aviram chronicles the Polgár Sisters’ unique training and unprecedented success in the male-dominated chess world in The Polgar Variánt, which screens during this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival.

László Polgár resolved to home-school his three daughters at a time when the Hungarian government rather frowned on such anti-socialist behavior. Undeterred, he was convinced he could train Susan (or Zsuzsa), Sofia, and Judit to be geniuses in a predetermined field. He chose chess, because of its prestige within the Soviet Bloc. To an extent, it worked. All three sisters racked up impressive victories in international women’s tournaments, but they wanted to compete against men in more highly esteemed competitions. The Hungarian chess authority did not just disagree with their ambitions, they put their careers on hold for several years.

Clearly, as the oldest, Susan Polgár paid the highest price. However, by the time their ban was lifted, Judit Polgár was poised to explode on the chess scene. So did their chess careers provide full satisfaction and vindication for their father? Probably in large measure yes, but maybe not entirely so. After all, their lives would become complicated, despite their sheltered early years.

Even though the narration is a bit severe, Variant provides a fascinating look inside the exclusive world of competitive chess. Notably, all the relevant Polgárs participated in Aviram’s film, including the three sisters, their father, and endlessly supportive mother Klára, who at one time was fired from her school teacher position, under suspicious circumstances.

From "The Polgar Variánt."

Happily, it seems all three Polgár Sisters have more important things in their lives than chess, thoroughly contradicting the stereotype of the socially under-developed, myopic chess master. Still, Aviram is perhaps a bit unfair to Gary Kasparov, who was admittedly somewhat chauvinistic when the Polgárs first crashed the men’s tournaments, but subsequently revised his opinions. This seems particularly unfortunate, given his role as the leading advocate of human rights and democratic reform in Russia today (his Twitter feed is a must follow for anyone interested in the contemporary state of organized chess and Russian politics).

Regardless, Aviram tells the sisters’ story with authority and economy, conveying a vividly drab sense of Kádár-era Hungary and the neurotic tension of competitive chess. Recommended rather highly, The Polgár Variant screens this Thursday night (1/15) and next Thursday afternoon (1/22) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of the 2015 NYJFF.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on January 14th, 2015 at 11:08pm.