Month: June 2015

LFM Reviews Burying the Ex

From "Burying the Ex."

By Joe Bendel. It is hard for a proud geek like Max to stick with his relationship with an intense environmental activist like Evelyn. At least when she dies tragically young you would expect her to do the green thing and decompose into compost. Unfortunately, she will rise from her grave, reanimated by a nasty case of supernatural codependency. Of all people, Max ought to be reasonably well prepared for a relationship with a zombie, but she is just as jealous and overbearing as she was in life. This leads to problems in Joe Dante’s Burying the Ex, which opens today in New York.

Max works in a costume shop, chafing under his boss’s rule. He dreams of opening his own shop, but Ashley is not one to encourage such foolishness. When he agrees to cohabitate with her, Max finally realizes what an insufferable piece of work she is. He is even ready to break-up with her, but a city bus does the dirty work for him—permanently, or so he thinks. Thanks to a satanic idol and Evelyn’s intense commitment, she claws her way out of the ground, expecting to pick up where they left off.

Of course, this is awkward for Max. After all, she is kind of pale-looking and just generally creepy to be around. To be fair, he moped over her for a long time, but he only just started pursuing a new, healthier relationship with Olivia, a fellow geek malt shop owner. Right, Evelyn probably won’t like that.

From "Burying the Ex."

This is a Joe Dante film, which means Dick Miller is in the house. Happily, he is still doing his thing and stealing his scene when he pops up late in the third act as an incredibly unhelpful policeman. Of course, we know he will be money. Essentially, Anton Yelchin falls back the same dweebish nice guy shtick he used in films like Odd Thomas, 5 to 7, and Broken Horses (listed in declining order of entertainment value), but it works relatively well in the context of Ex. In fact, he develops some believably appealing cult-movie loving chemistry with Alexandra Daddario. Dead or alive, a little of Twilight’s Ashely Greene’s Evelyn goes on long way, but she certainly helps the audience feel for poor Max.

Compared to Dante’s best work, Ex looks somewhat restrained. However, his many nods to geek culture (including Fruit Brute cereal, Hollywood Forever cemetery screenings, a Val Lewton double feature at the New Bev, and generous helpings of Ed Wood’s Plan 9) are a lot of fun. Although not nearly as richly executed, Ex could be a nice lite beer chaser to Dante’s true classic Matinee.

Like a seasoned pro, Dante keeps everything moving along quite snappily. There are some clever gross-out gags down the stretch and the design team assembled plenty of fan-friendly props and bric-a-brac. There is no shortage of zombie comedies these days, but this one has some heart and Dick Miller. Recommended for fans of Dante, Miller, and zombies (which ought to be just about everyone, right?), Burying the Ex opens today (6/19) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on June 19th, 2015 at 12:12pm.

LFM Reviews Wyrmwood

By Joe Bendel. There is an ongoing fan debate whether zombies should be fast or slow. A recent Australian film manages to have it both ways. Its zombies are slow during the day, but fast at night. Why? During the day they exhale highly combustible zombie breath, but at night they retain it as super-charging zombie fuel. If you’re wondering how this works biologically, don’t ask me. I’m not the Mr. Wizard of zombies. Just accept it. After all, the zombie apocalypse survivors have to deal with it in Kiah & Tristan Roache-Turner’s Wyrmwood: Road of the Dead, which opens this weekend as part of Sinister Cinema at Cineplex Yonge & Dundas up north.

One night, most of the world just up and turned into zombies. Only those with the right blood type live to experience the horrors. For some reason, fossil fuels like gasoline also stopped igniting, making getaways even trickier. Brooke manages to phone her brother Barry to warn him, but alas, he still has to cap his beloved wife and child. The despondent Barry will take refuge with Benny, an easy-going Aboriginal dude, a resourceful old-timer named Frank, and another dude you shouldn’t get too attached to.

Despite the horrific circumstances of his bereavement, Barry is still in a better position than Brooke, who is kidnapped by a sadistic hazmat-suited emergency research team. As a result of the disco-crazed mad scientist’s experiments, Brooke gains telepathic control over zombiekind. Things look bad for her nonetheless, but Barry and his fox-hole partners will head out on the highway looking for her, once they figure out how to harness the power of zombie breath.

Wyrmwood has some truly wacky ideas, but that is a good thing. Arguably, their zombie physiology is truly innovative within the shuffling dead canon. However, the ridiculously cruel scientist and his paramilitary associates are a bit of a tired cliché. Aren’t movie people supposed to be “pro-science?” Yet, they constantly invite us to cheer for the Luddite troglodytes whenever they bash scientists’ big, arrogant brains in with a tire-iron.

From "Wyrmwood."

Regardless, the zombie mayhem is executed with high energy and the survivors’ bickering rapport somehow lures viewers into an emotional investment. The hat-tipping to the Mad Max and Living Dead franchises is also wryly amusing. Even though she has the more problematic narrative arc, Bianca Bradey is poised for geek superstardom with an outside chance of mainstream breakout potential after her action-oriented, screen-commanding turn as Brooke. She is nobody’s victim, that’s for sure.

Shot over several years, Wyrmwood is the sort of scrappy micro-budget underdog you have to root for. Suitably gory and just tongue-in-cheek enough to lighten the post-apocalyptic mood without getting excessive goofy, it serves up the sort of red meat fans crave. A heck of a calling card, it should be the start of something big for the Roache-Turner Brothers. Recommended for Zombie fans, Wyrmwood opens today (6/19) as a Sinister Cinema presentation at Cineplex Yonge & Dundas.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on June 19th, 2015 at 12:12pm.

LFM Reviews Phantom Halo

By Joe Bendel. Brothers Beckett and Samuel Emerson have very different ideas when it comes to supporting their dysfunctional family. The former has launched a counterfeit currency operation, while the latter performs Shakespeare on the streets of Santa Monica. You would think they might try something in between, like working retail. One thing’s for sure, their father’s compulsive gambling and binge drinking is not going to pay the bills. In fact, his debts are the start of all the trouble in Antonia Bogdanovich’s Phantom Halo, which opens today in New York.

There was a time when Warren Emerson was the most promising Shakespearean actor in the West End. Now he is just a drunken, abusive shell of a man. He taught Samuel to recite Shakespeare and little else. Each night, he tries to appropriate what little money his sons might have earned, stopping to berate Samuel when he catches him reading the Phantom Halo comic book. Beckett has already had a belly full of his father, even before his old London loan shark lays a beating on him as a warning to Warren.

Logically, Beckett proceeds to jumpstart a counterfeiting operation with a former reform school classmate. Frankly, Emerson never really liked the obnoxious Little Larry, but he thinks his mom, Ms. Rose, is hot. Perhaps buying a Bentley with their first batch is a bad idea, especially if they do not want to attract the attention of Little Larry’s former employer, who also happens to be his mother’s sugar daddy.

Whenever we hear Sebastian Roché reciting the Bard, we invariably think how much nicer it would be to see him in a proper Shakespeare production. He can make the classical language sing, but there’s not much he can do with Bogdanovich’s screenplay (co-written with Anne Heffron). It also seems like the severity of his abusiveness constantly vacillates from the sad drunk inadvertently hurting to ones he loves to a vicious emotional sadist. Either way, it is not a heck of a lot of fun spending time with him. Bizarrely, Bogdanovich tries to layer a low-rent Tarantino-esque crime caper over this bleak domestic horror story, adding a dash of Summer of ’42 for further tonal confusion.

From "Phantom Halo."

As if the film were not odd enough, it features Rebecca Romijn as the Mrs. Robinson character. Still, it is sort of impressive that she took the part, since one would expect former models to try to play younger rather than older. Regardless, she is not the problem here. When the girl next door comes over at her father’s behest to extract Shylockian retribution for Samuel’s shoplifting, you know Bogdanovich (yes, the daughter of Peter, who signed on as executive producer) is trying way too hard to be hip or edgy. One can only imagine the valiant young actress asking “Seriously, I’m supposed to do what?”

Roché’s voiceovers are rich and sonorous and at least Romijn and Luke Kleintank are better together as Ms. Rose and Beckett than you might assume. It is also somewhat amusing to see Tobin Bell (Jigsaw in the Saw franchise) pop up as a gangster named Smashmouth (another colorful name for his resume). However, the narrative is a messy rat’s nest of flawed motivations and logical shortcomings, while the execution is painfully self-defeating. Not recommended but hard to hate on for its earnest clumsiness, Phantom Halo opens today (6/19) in New York at the Village 7.

LFM GRADE: C-

Posted on June 19th, 2015 at 12:11pm.

LFM Reviews No Land’s Song @ The 2015 Human Rights Watch Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. In Iran, the more things change cosmetically, the more they stay the same—or get worse. Since the 1979 revolution, women have been prohibited from publicly performing as vocal soloists. Nevertheless, composer Sara Najafi was determined to stage a concert celebrating women’s voices. Her filmmaker brother Ayat secretly documented the process, capturing her Kafkaesque encounters with the state bureaucracy and religious authorities in No Land’s Song, which screens during the 2015 Human Rights Watch Film Festival in New York.

The prevailing orthodoxy had accepted women as background singers but not soloists for reasons so strained and misogynistic, it is impossible to coherently summarize them. Seriously, it somehow involves Adam’s Rib. This is what Najafi is facing. Her concept for a cross-cultural concert exchange with French musicians is especially unnerving to the apparatchiks with the 2013 election looming. Memories of the Green Movement and the crackdown during the stolen election of 2009 still loomed large. In fact, Najafi conceived the program partly as a tribute to the Green protestors, but she was shrewdly cagey on those details when dealing with the various ministries.

Time and again, we hear bureaucrats dissembling and buck-passing. Clearly, nobody wanted to sign off on Najafi’s program, for fear of reprisals, but they were also reluctant to own up to their decisions. Of course, we can only hear these exchanges, because cameras were strictly prohibited in government offices, but those regime mandated hijabs certainly make it easy to conceal an audio recording device.

Essentially, there are two components to NLS, the expose of Iran’s Orwellian ruling apparatus and the musical performances, which eventually do come to fruition, through an improbably fortuitous chain of events. Frankly, they are equally compelling and speak to each other in many ways. Presumably for the sake of their supporters and his sister’s fellow musicians, Najafi is rather circumspect and diplomatic when presenting the backstage events surrounding the concert. Based on his interview with The Guardian, it sounds like it was a much tenser atmosphere than the film suggests.

Regardless, the music was worth the trouble and frustration. Najafi made the most of the opportunity with an awe-inspiringly bold set list. For instance, the lyrics of Emel Mathlouthi’s Tunisian protest song “Kelmti Horra,” performed by the songwriter, do not require listeners to read much into them. The rebellious, free-thinking spirit of Najafi’s program is admirable, but the music is also quite beautiful, often in an almost hypnotic way. Frankly, the short term future of women vocalists in Iran is grimly uncertain. No Land’s Song may not materially advance their cause to any appreciable extent, but Najafi put together a dynamite night of music, which is a worthy accomplishment in itself.

Ayat Najafi’s film is definitely eye-opening stuff. It gives you an immediate sense of what life is like for Iranian musicians, especially women, while also paying tribute to Qamar-ol-Moluk Vaziri, the first Iranian woman to sing in front of mixed audiences with an uncovered head, back in the 1920s. Unfortunately, it does not instill much optimism for the future, but the music is still quite stirring. Highly recommended, No Land’s Song screens this Thursday (6/18) at the IFC Center, as part of this year’s HRWFF in New York.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on June 15th, 2015 at 10:12pm.

LFM Reviews Deutschland ’83

By Joe Bendel. It must be a weird full circle experience for an East German defector like Sylvester Groth to now play a Stasi agent, but it is a role he would understand better than most. Groth’s Walter Schweppenstette is in fact the sort of spymaster who can dislodge poor Martin Rauch’s finger with perfect casualness. As a result, the shocked East German will now have an excuse for avoiding the piano while impersonating a West German General’s new aide-de-camp. Rauch did not ask for this assignment, but he will obey as best he can during the course of Deutschland ‘83, which premieres this Wednesday on SundanceTV.

Rauch was a loyal Communist border guard serving on the Wall that President Reagan will soon challenge Gorbachev to tear down. His aunt Lenora is a high-ranking Stasi strategist, who is pretty freaked out by Reagan’s “Evil Empire” speech and his decision to deploy Pershing missiles in West Germany. Rather cold-bloodedly, she picks her nephew to impersonate Moritz Stamm, an orphaned junior officer loner who will soon report for duty under Gen. Wolfgang Edel, a prominent NATO liaison. Of course, Rauch is reluctant to leave his almost-fiancée Annett and his ailing mother Ingrid, but Lenora promises to arrange a transplant for her if he agrees, not that he has a choice.

The first two episodes of D83 screened at the Berlin Film Festival and they hang together as an initial arc pretty well. We can see perhaps hints of doubt being sown when Rauch, the ardent Marxist, first encounters a western supermarket. His superiors and colleagues are not exactly the reassuring types either, especially Aunt Lenora. However, it might be the freedom exercised by young West Germans that ultimately shakes Rauch’s convictions. After all, the peacenik chart-topper “99 Luftballoons” is a constant presence throughout the first two episodes.

As Lenora Rauch, Maria Schrader could well surpass Kevin Spacey’s Frank Underwood for stone cold Machiavellian villainy. Right from the start, she makes the show. Jonas Nay also shows promise as Rauch/Stamm, convincingly portraying his early overwhelmed naivety, while hinting at the resourcefulness and moral confliction to come. As Schweppenstette, Groth (best known for playing Goebbels not once, but twice in Inglorious Basterds and My Fuhrer) appropriately exudes malevolence and Ulrich Noethen quickly establishes Gen. Edel’s contradictory human dimensions. Unfortunately, Errol Trotman-Harewood seems to be trying for the cringiest ugly American stereotypes as blustery Gen. Arnold Jackson.

The period details of D83 are spot on, extending far beyond the music. Even in the early going, helmer Edward Berger keeps it tight and tense. The limited series also boasts a wealth of memorable performances from smaller but key supporting players, such as Lena Lauzemis as Rauch’s shadowy hotel contact. However, it is unclear how writer-co-creator Anna Winger will ultimately treat President Reagan. There do seem to be indications we are supposed to sympathize with the resistance to his Pershing deployment. Still, there is no denying he shook things up.

Overall, Deutschland ’83 shows considerable potential judging from the first two episodes. It must be the first German programming to air directly in America since the History Channel broadcast Dresden so it is nice to see SundanceTV taking chances. Espionage fans should be advised, it commences this Wednesday (6/17) on SundanceTV.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on June 15th, 2015 at 10:12pm.

LFM Reviews In Football We Trust @ The 2015 Los Angeles Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. This is not the Utah we know from coming to Park City for Sundance, Slamdance or maybe skiing. This is Salt Lake City, home to the nation’s largest Polynesian immigrant community. Yes, many of them are Mormon, why do you ask?  Their faith is with the Latter Day Saints, but their hopes and passion are in football all the way. Tony Vainuku (the first Tongan filmmaker accepted at Sundance) & Erika Cohn follow four top high school seniors throughout In Football We Trust, which screens during the 2015 Los Angeles Film Festival.

According to Trust, Polynesian prospects are twenty-eight times more likely to make the NFL than any other demographic group. The film also acknowledges the same is not true for Ivy League medical and law schools. This is a problem, but Vainuku & Cohn will primarily focus on other issues, like religion and crime. The former is clearly a positive force for the families profiled in the film, often credited for providing direct assistance, as well as a social network and structure. The latter is never a good thing, but the intrusion of gang violence could well jeopardize at least one player’s future.

For obvious reasons, the filmmakers spend a great deal of time with the brothers Bloomfeld, Leva and Vita, whose reformed father was one of the founders of the Baby Regulators, a notorious Polynesian street gang. Their father might be out of the life, but the life will still come looking for at least one of the brothers.

In intriguing ways, Trust confirms some of our possible preconceptions, while contradicting others. All four POV players seem to be reasonably well accepted in high school (they are jocks, after all) and at one least has a popular, apparently Anglo girlfriend. It also seems like the Mormon mission call can be a rather handy escape hatch during challenging times.

Unfortunately, through Fihi Kaufusi’s experiences, Trust also raises timely issues of football safety. Kaufusi actually played on both sides of the ball, which is a practice many would have assumed went the way of leather helmets. He will suffer an injury that the team doctor “under-diagnoses,” so you can probably guess what happens next.

There is only so much Vainuku & Cohn can coherently address in a film of reasonable length. As it is, Trust is like a tighter, more disciplined Hoop Dreams, featuring more proactive, self-aware subjects. Yet, football fans will not shake the feeling the ghost of Junior Seau hovers over the film. The NFL’s inability to deal with concussions and brain trauma becomes especially problematic when we consider how many Polynesian families look to football as their means of economic advancement. Still, these high school players’ ambitions are real and compelling. Recommended for fans of beyond-the-field sports reporting, In Football We Trust screens this Wednesday (6/17) as part of LAFF ’15.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on June 15th, 2015 at 10:11pm.