Month: February 2015

LFM Reviews 6 Desires: D.H. Lawrence and Sardinia @ The 2015 Sundance Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. There was a time when D.H. Lawrence’s travel writings were his best received work. Even before his sexually charged novels belatedly achieved widespread critical acceptance, Lawrence’s nonfiction did more than their share to promote Italian tourism. Over ninety years after its initial publication, his Sea and Sardinia continues to lure visitors from the UK to the Mediterranean isle. In this case it is Northern Irish documentarian Mark Cousins and his small intrepid crew, who will retrace the old man’s footsteps in the docu-essay-travelogue 6 Desires: D.H. Lawrence and Sardinia, which screened during the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

Clearly, this will be a very personal and impressionist journey, considering Cousins starts his voiceovers by asking Lawrence (presumably in spirit) if he can call him Bert. At this point, the audience can envision the novelist looking down from somewhere, chillily replying: “that’s Mr. Lawrence to you.” Nevertheless, Cousins maintains the intimate, but one-sided dialogue, revisiting the sites from the book, but informing the film’s visits with their full historical and cultural context.

This will never be a breakout Sundance documentary hit like Searching for Sugarman, but it is pleasant enough for a while. Despite his libertine reputation, Cousins’ portrait emphasizes Lawrence’s conservative nature, including his categorical rejection of socialism and his contention feminism would largely emasculate males into what we would now call metrosexuals. Along the way, he offers plenty of tips for prospective tourists. The hearty Lawrence multi-course menu offered at one rustic restaurant sounds like it might be worth the trip by itself.

From "6 Desires: D.H. Lawrence and Sardinia."

Strangely though, the film loses focus when Cousins hands over the third act narrating duties to a woman, for gender representational reasons Lawrence probably would have abhorred. It is sort of interesting to hear her contrast Lawrence with Grazia Deledda, Italy’s female proletarian Nobel Prize winner for literature, but the vague yet unmistakable implication he helped contribute to the Holocaust because he never criticized Italian fascists in-print is so excessive, it jeopardizes the entire film’s credibility. As points of reference, Sea and Sardinia was published in 1921 and Lawrence died in 1930, so please, get serious.

Frankly, 6 Desires is often doing odd little things to undercut itself. Many times, when Cousins has a lovely vista in his frame, he ruins it by sticking his arm out, selfie style, with a cheap laminated photo or a plastic overlay frame. These just look bad on-screen.

When the film actually focuses on its ostensive subject, it offers some intriguing insights that might lead to viewers to reappraise Lawrence and his work. To jolt everyone awake, Cousins also includes clips from Ken Russell’s adaptation of Women in Love, so you know what that means: Oliver Reed, full frontal. Unfortunately, this is about the time the film starts to founder. It has its moments, but 6 Desires really ought to have been chopped down to an hour and packaged specifically for television. Regardless, it will likely find more festival play following its screenings at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, thanks to the filmmakers’ reputation, but it is strictly for Lawrence and Cousins completists.

LFM GRADE: C

Posted on February 9th, 2015 at 8:57pm.

LFM Reviews Trial on the Road

From "Trial on the Road."

By Joe Bendel. It suggests the Red Army was often less than heroic during the Second World War, and implies treason is sometimes an understandable option during unreasonable times. You had better believe it was banned by the Soviet government. Frankly, it is hard to imagine how it was ever greenlit in the first place. Of course, by western standards, it is a relatively restrained portrayal of the absurdity and petty cruelty of war, but it was far too potent for the state authorities. There will be little glory and absolutely no fun whatsoever to be found in war throughout Aleksei Guerman’s Trial on the Road, which screens during Anthology Film Archive’s mini Guerman film series.

Red Army Sergeant Alexander Lazarev defected to the Germans, lured by the promise of an easier life. In the short term, he would have been considerably more comfortable if he had stayed with the Germans. However, he allows himself to be captured out of a rekindled sense of patriotism. Naturally, he meets with a decidedly mixed receptive. Many new comrades, including the unit’s political officer, are in favor of summary execution.

Fortunately, the nominal commanding officer has other ideas. He would much prefer to see Lazarev die a redemptive death during a recklessly dangerous assignment. While there is no shortage of peril during Lazarev’s missions, it just seems like everyone else does all the dying.

From a Communist censor’s perspective, that kneejerk political officer has to be especially problematic, but Trial is veritable minefield of objectionable material. Its entire interpretation of reality contradicts the old Soviet mother-myth of the “Great Patriotic War.” People are cheap and the Communist war machine will dispose of them as it pleases.

From "Trial on the Road."

Vladimir Zamansky is absolutely riveting as Lazarev. He is a completely convincing battle-hardened and world-weary hardnose, but when he periodically breaks down, overwhelmed by pointless barbarity of the war, it is heavy stuff. Likewise, Oleg Borisov supplies a powerful counterpunch as Solomin, one of Lazarev’s bitterest detractors, who pays dearly for a lesson in forgiveness.

Trial is an incredible film that combines tragedy and absurdity in a manner that feels so quintessentially Russian. The striking black-and-white cinematography and slightly surreal backdrops also show the early, subtle hallmarks of Guerman’s mature style. It is a shame Trial (his first sole directorial credit) and My Friend Ivan Lapshin (his third film, not released fourteen years later), were censored for so long. He was an extraordinary cinematic storyteller and stylist, but he was on the outs with the Soviet power structure during most of what should have been his peak creative years. Once again, the entire world has been impoverished by Communism. One of the best war films you will see on a New York screen this year, Trial on the Road screens again this Tuesday (2/10) as part of Anthology Film Archives’ Guerman mini-retrospective.

LFM GRADE: A+

Posted on February 6th, 2015 at 12:33pm.

LFM Reviews Concrete Love @ The 2015 Slamdance Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. Pritzker Prize winner Gottfried Böhm and his three architect sons might be the world’s preeminent modernists, but the function of many of their buildings is to harken back to the past. With churches, mosques, World War II memorials, and an Egyptology museum to their collective credit, the Böhms have built, but they find themselves at a personal and professional crossroads in Maurizius Staerkle Drux’s documentary, Concrete Love: the Böhm Family, which screened during the 2015 Slamdance Film Festival in Park City.

As the only German Pritzker laureate, Gottfried Böhm is the unquestioned head of the clan and of their family practice. His overwhelmingly dominant stature leads to issues and tensions within the family unit, particularly with respect to his wife Elisabeth. She was once a promising junior architect as well, but she permanently deferred her career to raise their children. She has long suffered from dementia when Drux starts observing the family, but she soon succumbs to age and infirmity.

Despite her failing health, the Böhm sons miss their mother’s stabilizing influence. Resentments of the patriarch start to become more pronounced, especially as the sons face their own particular professional challenges. Stephan is determined to get a toehold in the exploding Chinese market, even though he is a bit put off to learn architects are largely considered on par with contractors and workmen in the People’s Republic (arguably, a rare expression of egalitarianism in the increasingly stratified nation). Meanwhile, Paul Böhm is growing exasperated with the budget cuts and aesthetically dubious demands imposed on him by the strange network of patrons behind his mega-mosque project. Believe it or not, we sort of get the sense he is being set up to be some kind of scapegoat.

From "Concrete Love."

At least Peter Böhm sort of gets the last laugh at the opening of the Museum of Egyptian Art he designed. He had clashed with his father over its deceptively simple, boxy layout. Yet, once Drux takes his cameras inside, we get a sense of how its imposing massiveness evokes the great monumental structures of ancient Egypt and how the surprisingly airy open spaces serve the exhibitions. It really has a cool sense of place.

Of course, the elder Böhm has plenty of striking buildings to his credit as well. Indeed, seeing the family’s greatest hits is one of the best parts of Concrete. To his credit, Drux has a good eye for both architecture and familial drama. In a case of good news-bad news, his approach is probably too detached to feel voyeuristic or intrusive. As a result though, the pace can be a bit leisurely at times, but the film is clearly intended for a cultured audience with a sustainable attention span. Respectfully recommended for those interested in post-war architecture, Concrete Love will likely screen at many art-focused and German language festivals over the coming year, following its North American premiere at this year’s Slamdance Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on February 6th, 2015 at 12:33pm.

LFM Reviews Cop Car @ The 2015 Sundance Film Festival

From "Cop Car."

By Joe Bendel. Seriously, does anyone still think keeping the car keys under the sun visor is a good idea? If anyone ought to know better, it should be a corrupt sheriff. Regardless, while burying a body, he leaves them in that conveniently obvious place for two mischievous ten year-olds. A dangerous joyride commences in Jon Watts’ Cop Car, which screened at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

When you see Kevin Bacon playing a sheriff, you have to think he ought to be out there arresting kids for dancing. Instead, Sheriff Kretzer is in bed with a number of dodgy underworld types. Travis and Harrison just happened to blunder along at the right time to take his cruiser for a spin. Obviously, this is trouble for Kretzer. He can hardly explain why he was in the middle of scrub grass nowhere in the first place, let alone how he could allow his wheels to be swiped out from under him.

However, by claiming a faulty radio, he can get dispatch calling in regularly on his cell, as he madly dashes home, while still pretending to be on patrol. Eventually, Kretzer starts tracking the kids in his own pick-up, but troublesome witnesses will inevitably cross their paths.

From "Cop Car."

As Travis and Harrison, James Freedson-Jackson and Hays Wellford really look and sound like real life kids (as they are), trying their darnedest to act tough through foul language and what they think is cool posturing. Watts taps into a sort of archetypal Stand By Me-Huck Finn youth-on-the-fateful-road vibe that gives the film more resonance than one might expect. Kevin Bacon is also entertainingly sleazy and cunning as Kretzer. Unfortunately, the film is more than a tad underwritten, with a fair amount of time-killing required in between its inspired scenes.

Camryn Manheim and Shea Whigham do what they can with their small, near cameo roles, but they do not provide much connective help in the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game. Cinematographers Matthew J. Lloyd and Larkin Seiple capture the big expansive emptiness of the Colorado plains and highways. Frankly, we can understand how the boys could do something so rash and potentially hazardous out of unsupervised boredom. Despite pacing issues, Cop Car is recommended for its atmosphere and Bacon’s salty turn, following its recent premiere at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on February 5th, 2015 at 11:25am.

LFM Reviews Station to Station @ The 2015 Sundance Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. Where can hipsterdom and traditional Americana come together in common purpose? Evidently, along our nation’s railways. Neither wants to be tied down, nor are either in any particularly hurry. Collaborating with musicians who would feel at home either at Lollapalooza or on Austin City Limits, Doug Aitken documents a twenty-four day coast-to-coast train trip in sixty-one one-minute shorts films (plus beginning and end credits), assembling it all into the restless, slightly avant-garde concert doc, Station to Station, which screened at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

Granted, Aitken’s preferred term of “happenings” is pretty cringey, but the ten stops his transcontinental train made for multi-disciplinary performances mostly look like a lot of fun. It seems the music never stopped, as performer after performer gets their one minute feature spot, sometimes at the happening, other times on the speeding train.

A pair of flamenco dancers, an old school western auctioneer, and the Kansas City Marching Cobras are particularly fun to watch, because they have tons of talent, but they are hardly recognizable celebrities. However, big name recording stars like Beck and Thurston Moore bring their A-game, perhaps even winning over new fans. Of course, nobody can out power soul legend Mavis Staples. Perhaps the biggest surprise is the appearance of Giorgio “Flashdance” Moroder, but it is pretty cool to see him do his thing on the synthesizer.

From "Station to Station."

Despite its linear direction and the imposed limits of the train, Station is a largely shapeless film. However, it has a lot of energy and it is visually quite stylish. Whether it be the lonely desert vistas, the warm glow of an electronica performance, or the evocative sight of Aitken’s movable light show of a train hurtling through the night, he and co-cinematographer Corey Walter always make the rapidly changing visuals look great. On the other hand, when he invites spoken word commentary from the likes of Gary Indiana, we mostly get annoyingly folksy dialectics.

Frankly, Station to Station probably isn’t experimental enough to sit comfortably in Sundance’s New Frontiers section, but it is hard to see where it would more easily fit. It certainly moves along at a good clip. Like Midwest weather, if you’re not digging it, just wait a minute and it will change. Rather pleasant overall, Station to Station is recommended for listeners of Sonic Youth and Patti Smith, as well as the sort of neo-roots artists profiled in No Depression. Having just notched a number of international sales, Station to Station should find its audience after world-premiering at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on February 4th, 2015 at 8:28pm.

LFM Reviews My Friend Ivan Lapshin

By Joe Bendel. How can you be nostalgic for the bad times? Because they are the old times. For instance, our narrator looks back rather fondly on the early days of Stalinism. He and his father were fortunate to share their flat with the local police constable. That meant there were only five (and later six) people crammed into the apartment. How spacious. Even without depicting the Stalinist terror, there is still plenty of scarcity and absurdity in Aleksei Guerman’s My Friend Ivan Lapshin, which screens as part of a mini-Guerman (sometimes translated as German) retrospective now running at Anthology Film Archives in conjunction with the premiere theatrical release of Guerman’s Hard to be a God.

There is not much sugar in this sleepy village of revolutionary fervor, but there always seems to be some in Lapshin’s flat. The town will also get a treat in the form of a traveling agitprop stage performance. The show is a bad as it sounds, but Lapshin still falls for Natasha Adasova, a demur featured actress. They will have some laughs together, but unfortunately, it will be Lapshin’s suicidal journalist friend Khanin who turns her head.

However, Lapshin has another obsession to fall back on: capturing the dreaded Solovyey gang. It is not clear just what crimes the Solovyey outfit has committed, but their (comparative) liberty rankles Lapshin. Frankly, they seem to be born out of the same cloth of economic desperation that gave rise to Bonnie and Clyde—and their ability to evade justice (probably due to their considerable local support) arguably undercuts the state’s authority.

One thing is certain, everyone spends a good deal of time in queues, struggling with shortages, except Lapshin, who goes out of his way to bust black market firewood peddlers. Yet, somehow he seems like a decent fellow, in a rigid, stentorian sort of way, perhaps because we might guess what sort of trials and travails lie ahead for him.

From "My Friend Ivan Lapshin."

Although Friend is far more accessible and narrative-driven than HTBAG, the vibes of the respective films are not so very different. In both cases, characters exist in a state of constant chaos, yet they live in an environment of near total stasis. Both films are distinguished by their striking black-and-white cinematography, but there is something about the dreamy vibe that keeps us at arm’s length.

Andrei Boltnev is commandingly tragic as the severe Lapshin, while Andrey Mironov makes a strangely charismatic sad sack as Khanin. Nina Ruslanova’s Adasova also brings sufficient heat to let us buy into their love triangle. Indeed, it is quite a fine example of ensemble acting, but it is still a rather odd film to watch, because Guerman is being so deliberately cagey with his allegorical implications, for obvious reasons.

Nevertheless, Friend was duly banned by the authorities for fourteen years, finally seeing the light of day in the late 1980s. Reportedly, it was deemed an insufficiently heroic portrayal of the early days of socialism building. It was also an awkward, sometimes even sarcastic reminder they had been building socialism for five decades, but things were as crummy as ever. Recommended as a fascinating historical document not without its own artistic merits, My Friend Ivan Lapshin screens again this coming Monday (2/9), as part of the Guerman series at Anthology Film Archives.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on February 4th, 2015 at 8:27pm.