Month: May 2015

Get Your 1980s Pop Nostalgia On: LFM Reviews Walking on Sunshine

By Joe Bendel. Italian beach himbos are meant to be disposable, good for a summer fling before their expiration date kicks in. Like last year’s cherry blossoms, they might be lovely to look back on, but it would be awkward and ultimately unsatisfying to carry them around indefinitely. Nevertheless, two sisters will fall for one. In fact, it is the same monosyllabic pretty boy, but now that Maddie is engaged to the luggish Raf, the more repressed Taylor is determined to keep their past romance secret in Max Giwa & Dania Paquini (a.k.a. Max & Dania)’s 1980s pop jukebox musical Walking on Sunshine, which launches this Friday on VOD.

We know Taylor is the more practical one, because she has been studying at “Uni,” as we hear over and over. The one time she really let her hair down was a summer in Perugia. She therefore recommends it to her more romantic (flightier) sister Maddy as a place to nurse her latest broken heart. Her prescription works only too well. Arriving to discover Maddy is already engaged to the beach bum she was hoping to pick up with again, the heartbroken Taylor resolves to put up a brave front. Needless to say, the circumstances of the whirlwind wedding will make that difficult. Meanwhile, Maddy will try to fend off Doug, the jerk-heel ex-boyfriend she recently dumped for the umpteenth time.

It is possible that Sunshine bears some superficial resemblance to the ABBA juke-boxer Mamma Mia, but who here would possibly know? Regardless, none of this could be considered super-fresh territory. Let’s be honest, these are all stock characters. Poor backstory-less Raf is particularly weak. You will find more personality stuffed and mounted on the wall of a hunting lodge.

Nevertheless, it must be conceded that the way the tunes were selected and molded into something like a book musical is often quite clever. Madonna’s “Holiday” is sort of an obvious choice for a flag-waving opener, but the big airport dance number is appealingly choreographed. Unfortunately, Bananarama’s cover arrangement of “Venus” is still lame, nearly thirty years after its initial release.

From "Walking on Sunshine."

However, the real surprise is how adroitly Katrina and the Waves’ title tune has been adapted to serve the film’s dramatic needs. Similarly, the rendition of “If I Could Turn Back Time” (associated with Cher) could not be any more manipulative, but the tune does what it needs to do as an emotional climax, worming its way into your head afterward. Human League’s “Don’t You Want Me,” Roxette’s “It Must Have Been Love,” and the Bangles’ “Eternal Flame” also perfectly fit the vibe of the film and move the action along nicely.

Gemma’s sister Hannah is game enough as Taylor, but if you see one film this weekend with an Arterton, it absolutely, positively must be Gemma Bovery. Problematically, it is just hard to believe either woman could get hung up on a vacant stare, like Giulio Berruti’s Raf (is that supposed to be a patriotic hat tip to the Royal Air Force?). For the most part though, Sunshine’s cast is attractive, but not inhumanly so. The Perugia backdrops are lovely and the local Tomato Festival (sort of like Holi, but with tomatoes) looks like a lot of fun. By the way, the dude with the soul patch playing Doug the sleaze is Emma Thompson’s husband, Greg Wise.

This film might be hummable, but it isn’t even an inch deep. Still, if you grew up with these tunes (who else saw Katrina and the Waves open up for Squeeze? Anyone? Seriously, that was a good show), this just might be a guilty, shame-ridden pleasure. Recommended solely as a sugary vehicle for nostalgia, Walking on Sunshine hits VOD platforms this Friday (5/29).

LFM GRADE: C+

Posted on May 28th, 2015 at 9:53pm.

Fandor Celebrates Welles: LFM Reviews Around the World

By Joe Bendel. Only Orson Welles cold win a Peabody for a television pilot that never went to series. That would be The Fountain of Youth, produced by Desi Arnaz. As he did in film, Welles burned TV bridges on both sides of the Atlantic. At least six episodes of his British travel series were produced and eventually aired on the fledgling ITV. Twenty-six had been commissioned, but they were probably lucky to get what they got, for reasons Welles fans know only too well. Little seen at the time of their original broadcast, all six episodes are now available for streaming as part of Fandor’s Orson Welles collection, assembled in celebration of the filmmaker’s centennial.

Orson Welles will be our host, as well as the director and primary cameraman and editor. You might pick up a little something about each port of call, but the series will never replace your Fodor’s or Let’s Go. It’s all about Welles, but isn’t it always?

The first episode assembled into the Around the World super-cut is probably the most Wellesian. It is here in Basque Country that we most often see his dynamic sense of composition. Of course, it is hardly surprising that Welles was inspired by the locals’ defiant refusal to quietly conform to either France or Spain. He also clearly had a great deal of affection for his appointed translator, Chris Wertenbaker, the young son of his recently deceased friend, Time foreign correspondent Charles Wertenbaker.

If you were charmed the first “Pays Basques I” than hopefully you will also will also enjoy the network-edited “Pays Basques II,” which includes the same intro and conclusion, but comes with a lot more Pelote (the Basque game related to Jai alai) in between. Still, Welles’ easy rapport with Wertenbaker and all the little moppet Pelote prodigies is quite engaging.

Probably the one episode most likely to disappoint is “Return to Vienna.” By its very title, it promises to revisit the memorable backdrops of Carol Reed’s The Third Man, but Welles spends most of his time in the city’s elite pastry shop. Evidently that was what he most remembered from his time in Vienna. Still, it is nice to be able to finally see it for ourselves. Like many works of Welles marginalia, “Return” was presumed lost for years.

Continuing on to Paris, Around gets a bit impressionistic with “St.-Germain-des-Prés.” Welles spends a lot of time wordlessly panning the streets of the Left Bank hipster enclave. A lot of famous French intellectuals, including Jean Cocteau and Juliette Gréco make cameo appearances, but Welles only talks at length with Raymond Duncan, Isadora’s sandal making, Greek tunic-wearing brother. He and Welles get on pretty well too.

In one sense, Welles was really phoning in the London episode, since he spends half the episode talking to the widows living in the Anglican charity houses next door to theater where he was mounting his ill-fated production of Moby Dick—Rehearsed. On the other hand, that old Welles charm really comes through as he flirts with his eighty and ninety year old neighbors, all whom declared themselves to be “true blue” Tories, who must be besides themselves with glee up in Heaven watching the pasting David Cameron just laid on Ed Millibrand. For the second half of the show, Welles knocks back a few pints with a few of retired soldiers living in the Royal Hospital Chelsea (hospital in this case meaning a place of hospitality). Again, the old salty dogs appreciate Welles’ good fellowship (and his hollow leg).

From "Around the World."

For the bullfight report in Madrid, Welles enlists Kenneth Tynan and Elaine Dundy as surrogate hosts. She is relatively relaxed, but he had no business being on camera at this point in his career. As was always the case, Welles’ commentary was recorded after the fact. In some cases, it certainly looks like he took advantage of the opportunity to make contentions his guests never had a chance to refute (but he always seems to faithfully represent his conversations with the pensioners). With only one camera, this was sort of a necessity. Still, what could be considered highly problematic liberty-taking for anyone else, comes across as Welles’ likable roguishness here.

Frankly, there is always room for more Orson Welles projects in the world, especially those that are more or less finished. With Around we can see Welles start to understand that being Orson Welles was a form of performance art in itself. There are more than enough fascinating moments at each stop (particularly in Basque Country and London) to make Around the World a rewarding way to spend nearly three hours. Recommended for Welles fans looking for more, Around the World is now available for Fandor subscribers as part of its Welles collection (along with his intriguing but fragmentary Too Much Johnson).

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on May 28th, 2015 at 9:53pm.

LFM Reviews Da Sweet Blood of Jesus; Now on Blu-ray/DVD

By Joe Bendel. Duane Jones only had two lead roles in his trailblazing film career, but they were both truly iconic for genre film connoisseurs. The first was George Romero’s enduringly popular Night of the Living Dead. Remaking such a familiar film was a perilous proposition, as both makeup artist Tom Savini and team of filmmakers not affiliated with Romero have proved on separate occasions. Bill Gunn’s Ganja & Hess is a different story. Less well known, the 1973 experimental exploitation film exists in both director and studio cuts, making issues of authenticity more complicated. Nevertheless, Spike Lee remains devotedly faithful to Gunn’s narrative throughout Da Sweet Blood of Jesus, which releases today on DVD and BluRay.

Dr. Hess Greene is an independently wealthy anthropologist, who specializes in the Ashanti people and their cultural obsession with blood (which Dr. Wiki has never heard of). He is about to commence a major research project when his jittery new research assistant, Dr. Lafayette Hightower stabs him repeatedly with a ceremonial Ashanti knife, before blowing his brains out. Strangely, Dr. Greene does not die. He merely wakes up rather the worse for wear, with a powerful thirst—for blood.

Eventually, Hightower’s hot but cold ex-wife Ganja comes looking for her disappointing former husband, but finds the very rich and highly interested Greene instead. Of course, he also happens to be undead. As they fall for each other he starts planning for their eternal future together, but Greene’s new existence will become more draining (in more ways than one) than he ever anticipated.

Yes, Ganja and Hess will essentially become vampires, but neither film really plays up the traditional Universal/Hammer/Anne Rice motifs. These are very existential vampires, isolated by privilege and addiction, like Howard Hughes or Brian Wilson. It is never exactly scary, but there are several sly “here-it-comes” moments. Lee also manages to maintain a distinctively icy vibe throughout the film.

Arguably, the best thing going for Sweet Blood is its soundtrack. This is easily Bruce Hornsby’s best and most jazz-oriented film work yet. Featuring contributions from prominent musicians like Vernon Reid on guitar, Lew Soloff on trumpet, Esther Noh on violin, Clark Gayton on trombone, and Patience Higgins and Stacy Dillard on tenor, it often sounds somewhat akin to his terrific debut jazz release, Camp Meeting.

If that were not enough, the soundtrack also includes licensed tracks from Milton Nascimento’s Journey to Dawn album, as well as performances from the church band previously seen in Red Hook Summer, with Jonathan Batiste returning as the Hammond B3 organist, “TK Hazelton.” It all might sound too upbeat and soulful for a tale of quiet undead desperation, but it really helps pull viewers through many scenes that would otherwise be rather slow and aesthetically severe.

From "Da Sweet Blood of Jesus."

From time to time, Sweet Blood does indeed intersect with the world of Red Hook. Considering how painful his last original narrative film truly was, this would sound like a very bad idea on paper. Yet, the excursions to the “Little Church” give the new film greater depth and heart. Frankly, unlike Lee’s ill-advised remake of Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy, Sweet Blood is a pretty good film. Perhaps it is time Lee swore off originals and just stuck to reboots and sports docs.

As Greene, Stephen Tyrone Williams is cold fish, by design, but almost to a fault. However, it is great fun to watch Zaraah Abrahams ravenously chew the scenery Ganja Hightower, the temptress who will not be denied. Naté Bova also makes a strong impression as Tangier Chancellor, Hightower’s potential rival turned target of seduction. By genre standards, Sweet Blood is quite sensual, but Lee must have directed Abrahams’ horny-porny scene with Bova in a raincoat. It is the one time the film’s disciplined restraint goes out the window.

Be that as it is, Sweet Blood gets under the skin precisely because it is mostly so reserved and cold-blooded. It is not one hundred percent successful, but it is an intriguing outing from a filmmaker who hasn’t been interesting outside of New York sports documentaries for some time. Recommended for fans of Lee and Gunn’s 1973 cult classic, Da Sweet Blood of Jesus is now available on DVD from Anchor Bay and Gravitas Ventures.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on May 28th, 2015 at 9:52pm.

LFM Reviews Gods @ The 2015 Panorama Europe

By Joe Bendel. During the Communist era, Poland was officially an atheist state. Yet, Dr. Zbigniew Religa’s crusade to successfully perform the country’s first heart transplant surgery was often denigrated as a desire to play god. The establishment would use any rhetorical club to beat down innovation. Fortunately, Dr. Religa was not the sort to hew to the Party line. Medicine will struggle to overcome politics in Lukasz Palkowski’s Gods, which screens on the opening weekend of this year’s Panorama Europe, at the Museum of the Moving Image.

Religa was not the first Polish doctor to attempt a heart transplant. That was Prof. Jan Moll, who was crucified by the medical authorities when the patient rejected the donor heart. Although no longer pushing the frontiers of medicine, Moll will serve as an informal advisor to Religa when he picks up his transplant standard. Unfortunately, it will not happen in Warsaw. All the directors of big urban clinics avoid controversy like the plague. To develop the life-saving procedure, Dr. Religa will assume the directorship of a new clinic in the provincial town of Zabrze. The clinic is fine (it should be, considering Dr. Religa and his staff largely built it themselves from the ground up), but the time away from his wife will wreck Religa’s marriage.

Despite Religa’s eventual breakthroughs, Gods is anything but a ringing endorsement of the old, oppressive system and its socialized medicine. Just funding the clinic was quite a trick. Although Religa is reluctant to ask for Party money, he has little options. Happily, he connects with a regional boss, who is corrupt in a good way. Dr. Religa also has no problem hiring junior surgeons who have been blackballed for their past support of Solidarity.

Clearly, Dr. Religa was quite a physician, but as played by the 6’ 6” Tomasz Kot, he hardly looks like George Clooney in ER. A tall, gaunt, stoop-shouldered chain-smoker, his Religa is far from a picture of health. Frankly, it is easy to see why he was so driven to perfect heart transplant surgery. Nevertheless, he projects a commanding presence that would instill confidence.

From "Gods."

Without question, Gods is Kot’s show, but he gets some key consults from veteran Polish actors Jan Englert as Prof. Sitkowski, Religa’s skeptical former mentor, and Wladyslaw Kowalski as the wise and compassionate Prof. Moll. Much like the trailblazing surgeon, inter-personal relations are not exactly the strength of Krzysztof Rak’s screenplay, which means Magdalena Czerwinska is stuck holding a rather one-dimensional stick as Religa’s neglected wife, Anna.

Still, Gods has an appealingly dry wit. It is also a first rate period production, reproducing the general drabness of the late Communist era, as well as the defiant manifestations of grooviness that periodically popped-up through the cracks. In fact, it might well be difficult for a potential American distributor to license several of the period-signifying pop songs for theatrical release, so viewers intrigued by Gods should make a point of seeing it on the festival circuit. Recommended for fans of Polish cinema and medical dramas, Gods screens Friday (5/29) at MoMI in Astoria Queens, as part the 2015 Panorama Europe.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on May 28th, 2015 at 9:52pm.

LFM Reviews Dear Lastan @ The 2015 Bosnian Herzegovinian Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. He looked like Archie and gave advice like Dr. Drew. For decades, the children of the former Yugoslavia and independent Croatia looked to the fictional advice columnist to guide them through the grossness of puberty and the challenges of growing up. Irena Škorić documents the lasting influence of the iconic teenage counselor in Dear Lastan, an opening night selection of the 2015 Bosnian Herzegovinian Film Festival in New York.

Modra Lasta (“Blue Swallow” in English) was like Yugoslavia’s version of The Weekly Reader, but somehow it was hipper, despite being part of the state media apparatus. In 1969, they created “Lastan,” hoping kids would open up to a cooler older brother figure. It worked, as mailbag after mailbag quickly proved. Several writers assumed the Lastan persona, but only a few of their identities have been recently revealed. Many of Škorić’s interview subjects argue Lastan was the best kept secret in publishing history—and they are probably right. After all, Lastan predated Woodward & Bernstein’s “Deep Throat” and remained shrouded in mystery well after Mark Felt outed himself. Yet, that is really the least of the Lastan story.

Even if you are a Yankee who never read Modra Lasta, listening to former readers’ affectionate reminiscences will bring on waves of nostalgia. Some of the letters are a quite funny, reflecting teenagers’ peculiar predilection for melodramatic self-importance, while Lastan’s often curt responses are wickedly droll. However, readers also wrote in with real problems that received thoughtful answers.

From "Dear Lastan."

It is fascinating to see how the Lastan column evolved to reflect the tenor of the times. Although it never rocked the boat politically during the Communist era, it was one of the few outlets that provided teens frank sexual advice. As one would subsequently expect, there was often tragic subtext to the early 1990s wartime-era correspondence. In fact, many soldiers and homefront survivors kept reading and writing Lastan well into their twenties to maintain a sense of stability.

Škorić interviews dozens of grown Lastan fans, whose stories range from the eccentrically goofy to the surprisingly profound. She immediately taps into the universal essence of the Lastan phenomenon, so non-Balkan viewers will quickly feel like they too are well acquainted with his columns.

This is one of the biggest sleepers you could ever hope to find on the festival circuit. The story of a children’s cartoon advice columnist in the former Yugoslavia might sound narrowly specialized to potential viewers and programmers alike, but it is actually a film just about everyone can relate to. Consistently entertaining and often quite moving Dear Lastan was a real discovery at this year’s Bosnian Herzegovinian Film Festival in New York. Don’t pass up a screening, should the opportunity arise.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on May 28th, 2015 at 9:50pm.

From Cannes to Lifetime: LFM Reviews Grace of Monaco

By Joe Bendel. Alfred Hitchcock very nearly lured Princess Grace out of retirement to star in Marnie. He wasn’t known as “the master of suspense” for nothing. Unfortunately, her return to the silver screen was scuttled by the French campaign to dominate the tiny principality of Monaco. Once again, French saber-rattling ruined things for the rest of us. Fortunately, the former Grace Kelly will stand tall in her Cartier diamonds, facing down threats to her adopted home’s sovereignty, both foreign and domestic, in Olivier Dahan’s now notorious Grace of Monaco, which premieres on Lifetime this Memorial Day, after getting booed off the Croisette at last year’s Cannes Film Festival.

Rumor has it, Princess Grace’s marriage to Prince Rainier is on the rocks. Of course, tensions with France have not helped much. With the Algerian War hemorrhaging cash, De Gaulle issues the House of Grimaldi an ultimatum: start taxing all the French business re-incorporating in Monaco and turn the proceeds over to France or face a blockade and possibly even an invasion. Unfortunately, Princess Grace’s American habits of speaking her mind and having her own career rock the boat at an inopportune time.

Despite the fissures in her marriage, Her Serene Highness is determined to serve the interests of Monaco. With the help of Rainier’s American Chaplain, Father Francis Tucker, Princess Grace will undergo a crash course in courtly etiquette and assemble her own kitchen cabinet. Frankly, they can hardly do worse than Rainier’s advisors, including the sleazy big-talker, Aristotle Onassis.

It is easy to see why Grace of Monaco crashed and burned at Cannes. In all fairness, the first two thirds play out like a relatively competent TV movie, but the puffed-up self-importance of the third act is almost offensive. This is the sort of film that acts like all the world’s problems can be solved with a heartfelt, ramblingly incoherent speech. Honestly, the supposedly Oscar-baiting climatic address basically boils down to: “Oh Monaco, you’re just so swellaco.” Is that enough to shame De Gaulle into behaving? Did Hitch like blondes?

From "Grace of Monaco."

Of course, gingerish Nicole Kidman is not exactly a classic Hitchcock type, but she is about the only name actress in Hollywood who can play classy convincingly. She is not bad as the reserved but vulnerable Princess. Even though he apparently put on some poundage for the role, Tim Roth is relatively restrained as Rainier. Unfortunately, Roger Ashton-Griffiths and Sir Derek Jacobi go all in for shtick as Hitchcock and decorum guru Count Fernando D’Aillieres. For the first time probably ever, Parker Posey is also boring (or maybe she was just bored) as the Princess’s officious staffer, Madge.

It is sort of entertaining to watch Kidman and Roth glide through the opulent world of 1960s Monaco. Unfortunately, any good will they manage to accrue is undermined by the third act cheesiness. Frankly, Dahan and screenwriter Arash Amel completely miss the film’s most relevant takeaway: high taxation inevitably leads to capital flight. Cinematographer Eric Gautier makes it all look glitzy enough, but there is just no way to recut the laughable climatic speech into a presentable cut with any sort of dramatic credibility. Yet, given all the off-screen notoriety and behind-the-scenes recriminations, it is impossible to avoid a certain morbid curiosity. Those so intrigued should watch Grace of Monaco in all its awkward clunkiness when it airs on Lifetime this Monday (5/25), before Harvey Weinstein locks it away in the old vault for good.

LFM GRADE: C-

Posted on May 27th, 2015 at 9:56pm.