Day: May 12, 2015

Marseilles in the 1970s: LFM Reviews The Connection

By Joe Bendel. In the dark days of 1970s, way before Giuliani, three men essentially waged a two-front war on the so-called French Connection. Eddie Egan and Sonny Grosso (a.k.a. Popeye Doyle and Buddy Russo) battled the drug ring in New York, while Magistrate Pierre Michel crusaded against them in Marseilles. Forty-some years after William Friedkin’s The French Connection told the New York cops’ story Michel finally gets his own big screen treatment in Cédric Jimenez’s The Connection, which opens this Friday in New York.

While a Magistrate (that peculiarly French office of investigating judge) in the juvenile crime division, Michel witnessed the devastating consequences of the drug trade first-hand. When promoted to felony narcotics, his zeal and integrity surprised a lot of people, particularly honest coppers like Aimé-Blanc. Michel makes no secret of his hope to dethrone Gaetan “Tany” Zampa, the presumably untouchable boss of the Connection’s Marseilles operation. Lacking proof against Zampa, Michel tries to whittle away at his organization, declaring open war on all his underlings.

Naturally, as Michel’s war against Zampa escalates, things get rather ugly. Michel finds his plans constantly undermined by corruption in the Marseilles police department and mayor’s office. However, Zampa also starts to feel the heat from former associates-turned-rivals, who try to move in on the weakened kingpin’s action. The most erratic of these upstarts will be the aptly named “Crazy Horse,” who will cause no end of headaches for Michel as well.

For fans of gangster movies, The Connection is like Christmas and your birthday all rolled together. It is obsessively detailed and compulsively dot-connecting. Art director Patrick Schmitt’s period décor is spot on, but the hedonistic Marseilles backdrop gives the film a vibe more closely akin to Boogie Nights than Friedkin’s grungy street-level Oscar winner.

Not just a strong likeness of Michel, Jean Dujardin has the right oversized presence for the honest Magistrate as well. As seen in The Artist and the OSS 117 franchise, Dujardin can play it scrupulously earnest and square, in a way that is completely genuine and not the least bit ironic. Despite his bouts of righteous indignation and the ultimately tragic dimensions of the tale, there is something Capra-esque about Michel that he successfully personifies. Likewise, Gilles Lellouche (one of the best in the business) expresses the ferocity concealed beneath Zampa’s ice cold façade. Jimenez and Audrey Diwan’s screenplay never valorizes the gangster, per se, but it unmistakably implies those who succeeded him would be even worse.

Decades after the fact, The Connection still feels rather bold for its willingness to name names. It makes it explicitly clear to viewers the same Marseilles that was delivering votes for Mitterrand also protected and abetted the notorious international drug syndicate. Indeed, Gaston Deferre, the Mayor of Marseilles, who would serve as Mitterrand’s Interior Minister (because obviously his city was so squeaky clean), plays a critical but maddeningly ambiguous role in the film.

An unusually ambitious sophomore film, The Connection is sprawling in scope but profoundly jaded in its attitude, exactly like some of the best cinema from the era it depicts. Highly recommended, it opens this Friday (5/15) in New York, at the Landmark Sunshine.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on May 12th, 2015 at 10:53pm.

The Unredacted True Story of Argo: LFM Reviews Our Man in Tehran

By Joe Bendel. The word “diplomatic” is often used as an adjective for cautious and noncommittal. That hardly describes Canadian Ambassador Ken Taylor’s term of service in post-Revolutionary Iran. He was the one played by Alias’s Victor Garber in Argo. As Hollywood films go, it was pretty accurate, but there was considerably more to the story. Co-producer-directors Drew Taylor (son of Miracle Mets pitcher Ron Taylor) & Larry Weinstein tell the behind-the-scenes story of the ambassador, his wife Pat, and his diplomatic staff, as fully as it can now be told, in Our Man in Tehran, which opens this Friday in New York.

When the Islamist students occupied the American Embassy with the Ayatollah’s blessing, it constituted a direct act of war. It also sent a chill through every other western mission. Somehow, six consular officers managed to slip out the back alley, but they were cut off from the British Embassy, their designated emergency refuge. It would be Ken Taylor and his colleague John Sheardown who took in the Americans, literally hosting the six “Houseguests,” as they came to be known, in their private residences.

Yes, there was a CIA agent named Tony Mendez who developed and implemented a daring plan to extract the Houseguests. Perhaps you have heard about it. The cover story involved a phony science fiction film titled Argo. If you haven’t, Mendez himself takes viewers through the operation step-by-step. However, one of the greatest revelations in OMIT is the extent to which the Ambassador and embassy personnel were gathering and relaying intel for the tragically ill-fated rescue attempt.

As much as former “October Surprise” conspiracy theorist Gary Sick tries to cover for his former boss, Jimmy Carter comes off looking like a bumbler out of his depth dealing with the Iranian crisis. Yet, in retrospect, nobody looks worse than Canadian opposition leader Pierre Trudeau, who tried to exploit the situation asking combative questions he knew from confidential briefings with PM Joe Clark that External Minister Flora MacDonald could not safely answer.

The access to primary sources in OMIT is rather remarkable, with (Drew) Taylor & Weinstein scoring extensive on-camera interviews with both Ken and Pat Taylor, as well as Clark, MacDonald, Mendez, Sheardown’s widow Zena, the Houseguests, and former Iranian hostage and CIA station officer William Daughtery. Indeed, it is quite valuable to have the perspective of Daughtery, who probably endured the worst torture meted out by the Revolutionary Guard during the hostage crisis. However, it is a little awkward seeing the discredited Sick pop up periodically, even though he avoids making unsupported accusations this time around.

The accounts surrounding Argo and the Houseguests are absolutely fascinating and inspire warm feelings of fellowship for all Canadians (except Trudeau). With co-writer Robert Wright (author of the eponymous book on which OMIT is based), Taylor & Weinstein give the audience a detailed understanding of the rituals of diplomacy and the secret inner workings of the intelligence services. There are also real lessons to be learned from the incidents it documents. First and foremost, wishful thinking is not a strategy. Highly recommended, Our Man in Tehran opens this Friday (5/15) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on May 12th, 2015 at 10:52pm.

LFM Reviews In the Name of My Daughter

By Joe Bendel. What was a classy lady like Renée Le Roux doing running a casino in Nice? Unfortunately, she did not have much time at the helm of the Palais de la Méditerranée before getting forced out by the Mafia. Pardon, make that: eased out by a rival casino operator with reputed underworld ties. It would be a bitter defeat for Madame Le Roux, costing her far more than control over the casino. André Téchiné adapts her memoir of the so-called “Nice Casino War,” but he de-emphasizes the Scorsese-esque elements throughout In the Name of My Daughter, which opens this Friday in New York.

The Palais was once tightly held by the Le Roux family, but when Madame Le Roux assumed the directorship of the casino, they barely retained a fifty-one percent stake. Many of the minor shareholders were opposed to her appointment, requiring her slightly estranged daughter Agnès to duly vote in favor of her mum. It was a victory orchestrated by her legal advisor Maurice Agnelet, who made something of an impression on the recently divorced Agnès. He happens to be married, but that does not mean much to either of them. Frankly, he is not nearly as attracted to her as she is to him. However, when Madame Le Roux refuses to appoint him as her general manager, he starts manipulating her daughter (and her shares) to extract revenge.

The daughter will indeed betray the mother, but from that point on, the chain of events gets mysteriously murky and tragic. Agnelet will ultimately face trial three times, yet Téchiné prefers to handle such dramatic red meat in the film’s postscript. Arguably, the intrigue and duplicity of the Casino War could have challenged the gangsterism of Cédric Jimenez’s The Connection, but Téchiné prefers to zero-in on the emotionally fraught mother-daughter relationship. The screenplay co-written by Jean-Charles Le Roux, who excised himself and his brothers from the picture, focuses on his anguished mother rather than the defiant Angelet.

From "In the Name of My Daughter."

Nobody can lord over an elegant old-money casino like Catherine Deneuve. If you had shares in the Palais, you would vote with her, too. Despite some unnecessary passage-of-time makeup, she rock-solidly anchors the film as Madame Le Roux. She instantly suggests a sense of Le Roux’s comfort in this exclusive world, as well as the long and thorny history she shares with both her daughter and former advisor. Guillaume Canet’s Agnelet is not exactly flashy, but he is convincingly cold-blooded, thin-skinned, and borderline sociopathic. On the other hand, Adèle Haenel’s turn as Agnès, the needy hipster, often rings hollow, sounds flat, or some such metaphor, but as you might surmise from the title, she will not be around for the closing credits.

The seductive and captivating thing about Téchiné films like Thieves and Unforgivable is the way they incorporate thriller elements while skirting the boundaries of genre cinema. Yet it becomes almost perverse in the case of the Casino War and the three resulting murder trials. Nonetheless, Téchiné pulls viewers into the story and through the film with a strong directorial hand that characteristically feels deceptively light. Recommended in spite and because of his auteurist idiosyncrasies, In the Name of My Daughter opens this Friday (5/15) in New York, at the IFC Center and the Lincoln Plaza Cinemas.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on May 12th, 2015 at 10:52pm.

LFM Reviews Infini

By Joe Bendel. In the future, teleportation is possible as a form of data-transmission. “Slipstreaming” is sort of like faxing yourself across the solar system. Unfortunately, data corruption can be a nasty side effect. Maybe that happened to the “t” and the “y” that ought to be in the title. Regardless, a galactic rescue team will risk data corruption and an airborne psychosis-inducing pathogen in Shane Abbess’s Infini, which recently opened in the Tri-State Area.

Of course, the future is miserable, because it always is. To support his pregnant wife, Whit Carmichael joins the slipstreaming SWAT team, but his first day will be a doozy. While he is still suiting up, an entire squad returns infected with a crazy bug, shooting up his regional command center. His only means of escape is slipstreaming to the far distant Infini mining colony from which they came. The East Coast team is subsequently dispatched to Infini with orders to secure Carmichael as well as the ominous cargo payload someone or something heaved in the direction of Earth.

Although only a few minutes have elapsed on Earth, several weeks have already passed for Carmichael. You know, relativity and all. The good news is if Carmichael lives, his wife will hardly know he was gone. The bad news is the utterly baffling in medias res prologue suggests he is in for some major trouble.

Somehow, Infini’s narrative manages to be both simple and incomprehensible at the same time. On the other hand, it looks terrific. Although shot on a shoestring budget, production designer George Liddle (whose credits include Dark City and Daybreakers) and art director Peter “Babylon” Owens (whose nickname inspires confidence in a genre film) have crafted a fully realized and convincing looking interstellar environment.

From "Infini."

Australian reality TV star Daniel MacPherson is shockingly effective as Carmichael, the frazzled everyman. Harry Pavlidis also adds some grizzled gravitas as Menzies, a senior extraction team member. Strangely though, Grace Huang, a future action star poised to breakout big (following notable work in RZA’s Man with the Iron Fists franchise and the short film Bloodtraffick) isn’t given much to do in Infini, except milling about in the cold. She is not the only one just waiting for “it” to get her.

A lot of talent and effort went into Infini, but you have to wonder how many people really watched it all the way through. There are several impressive scenes, but as a viewing experience it is rather choppy. That happens in independent genre filmmaking. Abbess and his cast and crew should have a lot of good films in their future, in part because Infini was probably something of a teeth-cutter. For those who want to support, Infini is now playng at the AMC Loews Jersey Gardens.

LFM GRADE: C

Posted on May 12th, 2015 at 10:51pm.

LFM Reviews Fatal @ New York’s Korean Movie Night

By Joe Bendel. It is impossible to make broad generalizations about the depiction of Christianity in Korean cinema. Yes, there are the crude stereotypes and kneejerk jibes, but there are also rather nuanced and humanistic portrayals, as well. For a recovering sex crime victim, it is a source of comfort and life affirmation. Unfortunately, the consolation of faith will be overwhelmed by the lingering corrosiveness of sin in Lee Don-ku’s Fatal, which screens this Wednesday as part of the Asia Society’s free Korean Movie Night series, co-presented by the Korean Cultural Service in New York.

Never very smart or self-assertive, the conflicted Lee Sung-gong meekly stands by while his classmates rape a teen-age girl one-by-one in the adjoining room. When told to take his turn, Lee duly enters. Just what he does or does not do to the drugged woman is never fully revealed. However, his guilt and complicity are firmly established. In fact, the incident will constantly haunt Lee, even though he continues to crave the approval of the sociopathic ringleader Gyu-sang, a decade later.

More out of boredom than spiritual yearning, Lee attends an Evangelical Christian service, but is struck by the church’s welcoming reception of visitors. Joining a young members’ study group, he comes face-to-face with Park Jang-mi, the victim from ten years ago. However, either due to the effects of the date-rape drugs or the suppression of memories, Park does not recognize him. Immediately obsessed with her, Lee stalkerishly follows her, contriving ways to worm into her life. It actually seems to work for a while, but Lee’s repressed emotions will come crashing out during the group’s retreat. Not knowing any other way to “fix” what they have done, the destabilized Lee starts to get Biblical with the unrepentant rapists.

Yes, this is strong stuff, especially given the unvarnished realism of director Lee’s stylistic approach. The one exception is the masterfully intense “confession” sequence during the retreat, in which you can practically see Lee Sung-gong’s psyche shatter on-screen. Fatal is a very unsettling film that never lets its problematic central character off the hook. It has been described as a revenge drama, but it does not fit comfortably into any category. It is just too raw and too intimate.

From "Fatal."

As Park, Yang Jo-a is a revelation. She sets the screen on fire during the film’s centerpiece scene. Audiences will not be able to breathe, let alone fidget. It is that kind of riveting. Yet, her earnestness and vulnerability throughout the film is also deeply moving. Likewise, Nam Yeon-u quietly but forcefully conveys just how deeply Lee’s guilt has arrested his psychological development. You can see he is just a shell of a person.

The third act mayhem might sound like a commercial concession, but every step feels like it follows according to a grimly fatalistic logic. It is a power film and a sit-up-and-take-notice debut for its director and much of the cast (especially Yang), but it not for the faint of heart or the overly sheltered viewer. Visceral and downright draining, Fatal is recommended for those who appreciate unsweetened black coffee drama, when it screens this Wednesday (5/13) at New York’s Asia Society.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on May 12th, 2015 at 10:51pm.

LFM Reviews Wife Be Like a Rose @ MoMA’s Japan Speaks Out Series

From "Wife Be Like a Rose."

By Joe Bendel. A man maintaining two households ought to at least be gainfully employed. Unfortunately, that is not the case for Kimiko Yamamoto’s deadbeat father, Shunsaku. Yet, for the sake of social convention and her heartsick mother, she will try to reconcile her parents. Even though it is hard to say no to Yamamoto, things still do not go according to her plans in Mikio Naruse’s breakout hit Wife! Be Like a Rose! which screens as part of Japan Speaks Out, MoMA’s current survey of early Japanese talking pictures.

When Shunsaku absconded to set up house with the scandalous former geisha Oyuki in the provinces, his family was appalled, especially his judgmental brother. Nevertheless, the plucky Kimiko Yamamoto more or less supports herself and her tragic-poetry writing mother on her office salary. Everyone is convinced old man Yamamoto will eventually do the right thing and come home. However, when her father never calls on his real family while visiting Tokyo for business, Yamamoto resolves to take matters into her own hands.

On a practical level, Yamamoto needs her father to finalize her engagement with her junior salaryman fiancé. She is also tired of watching her mother mope around the house. Originally, she plans to frog-march her father home from his den of vice, but the reality of his second home is much different than what she envisioned. Instead of a gold-digging harlot, Oyuki is the long-suffering mother of her half-sister and half-brother, who all live under much more impoverished conditions than her and her mother.

Rose is a gentle film, but it is chocked full of shrewd social commentary. It is fascinating to compare Kimiko Yamamoto, a career woman who is consciously navigating familial, social, and gender roles in an increasingly modernized world, with typical parts assigned to Hollywood actresses in the 1930s. Okay, so she is also cute. In fact, lead actress Sachiko Chiba was Naruse’s fiancée and chief muse at this time.

Their relationship would not last, but her performance holds up undeniably well. She is forceful and flirty, but also extraordinarily subtle and sensitive. It is rather remarkable to see her Yamamoto come to terms with her parents’ faults and failings. The dignity and fragility of Yuriko Hanabusa’s Oyuki is also quite touching.

Rose is considered the first Japanese film to be distributed in America, but evidently it did not exactly set the box office on fire. Despite its beauty, the way in which it subverts dramatic expectations will probably always trouble some viewers. That will be their loss. For Naruse admirers, it would be interesting to watch Rose in dialogue with his late career masterpiece, When a Woman Ascends the Stairs, about an aging Ginza hostess facing an uncertain future. Highly recommended, Wife! Be Like a Rose! screens again this Sunday (5/17) as part of MoMA’s Japan Speaks Out film series.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on May 12th, 2015 at 10:50pm.