LFM Reviews Chaplains on PBS WORLD

By Joe BendelThey are part of the corps, but they answer to a higher power. Chaplains necessarily navigate tricky positions in the institutional sphere, but their efforts inspire trust. As a result, their inspirational work is often inspiring—even to non-believers. Martin Doblmeier surveys the breadth of contemporary chaplaincy in the two-part, two-hour documentary Chaplains, which premieres this Monday on PBS WORLD.

When you hear “chaplains,” most people think military, prisons, and hospitals. Doblmeier has them covered, but he also includes a wider range of chaplains, including the relatively new but growing corporate chaplaincy. However, he starts with the classic military chaplain service, focusing on Rev. Paul Hurley, the senior chaplain serving in the Afghanistan theater of operations. A Catholic priest and U.S. Army colonel, Hurley oversees the rest of the chaplains attached to the U.S. military. It is dangerous duty, because they face the possibility of suicide bombers and other hazards, just like the soldiers they minister to. Of course, military chaplains have their own unique moral challenges, but Rev. Hurley has no trouble explaining how the Afghanistan conflict conforms to the Catholic Just War theory. However, he hastens to add it is not for him to decide whether it is worth fighting from a political-strategic perspective.

Frankly, the military segment is probably the high point of Chaplains, but there is still plenty of informative material to come, such as the extent of Tyson’s Foods’ commitment to corporate chaplaincy. At the time of filming, they had one hundred and twenty full and part-time chaplains on staff. You can save the jokes about giving all those chickens their last rites, because the Tyson chaplains address that issue head-on. They admit the realities of the poultry business can be difficult, which is something they try to help employees deal with.

The hospital segment captures the nobility of faith in action, but it largely fits our positive preconceptions of what chaplaincy is all about. Likewise, the prison segment is certainly well intentioned, but the sight of a prison Wiccan service could bring out a fit of rightwing snark even from Michael Moore.

Chaplains2
From “Chaplains.”

On the other hand, the sequences following Billy Mauldin and the Motor Racing Outreach as the minister to the drivers, pit crews, and fans following the NASCAR circuit are a fascinating and respectful exploration of that large and growing subculture. Yet, probably the most charismatic chaplain is Rabbi Arthur Rosenberg of the Motion Picture and Television Fund’s retirement home and health services, but he ought to be, considering he was once an actor himself. (He was Kevin Bacon’s uncle in Footloose, so he is only six degrees removed from everyone else in Hollywood).

There is a lot more to chaplaincy than most viewers probably realized, but there is also the selfless commitment you would hope for, as well as considerable professional training in many cases. Although Doblmeier starts to repeat himself late in the second half, most mainstream audiences will find it highly rewarding. It is also represents unusually faith-friendly programming from PBS, which should be encouraged. Insightful and sometimes quite moving, Chaplains airs this Monday (12/7) on PBS WORLD.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on December 4th, 2015 at 10:51am.

LFM Reviews The Discarnates @ The Japan Society

From "The Discarnates."
From “The Discarnates.”

By Joe BendelHidemi Harada’s childhood years in Tokyo’s Asakusa neighborhood were pleasant while they lasted. The shops close early, but there are still enough fine sushi restaurants that a chef like his father can easily find a job, even though he has been dead since Harada was twelve. The middle-aged scriptwriter will enjoy a haunted summer, but the nature of the supernatural powers afoot is the big question in Nobuhiko Obayashi’s The Discarnates, which screens during the Japan Society’s Obayashi retrospective.

Harada is feeling a little alienated from people. He lives in one of two residential apartments in what is otherwise a commercial office building. He has just divorced his wife, only to learn his longtime producer and friend Ichiro Mamiya intends to go beyond torch-bearing and ask his ex out. Rather confused by the supposed betrayal, Harada subsequently rejects the champagne-fueled late night advances of his sole neighbor Kei Fujino.

Frankly, Harada is at risk of becoming of full blown misanthrope, albeit one who can write treacly sentimental television melodramas, until he impulsively returns to his old Asakusa neighbor. There he mysteriously encounters his father, looking just as he did when Harada last saw him. Naturally, the good natured Hidekichi invites Harada home, where his mother Fusako starts fixing him food. Harada cannot explain it, but he is not inclined to question the opportunity to feel like he is part of a family again. He also commences a relationship with Fujino, despite her hang-ups. Most notably, she refuses to let Harada see her naked chest, due to extensive scars. Frankly, Harada is emotionally happier and healthier than he can remember, but something seems to be depleting him physically.

Discarnates is the sort of film that makes you wonder why it is not more widely renowned. It is usually categorized as a horror film, but it really has a vibe similar to the more poignant Twilight Zone episodes, like A Stop at Willoughby and Kick the Can, which is high praise indeed. However, Obayashi still creates an ominous vibe of foreboding. Harada’s hugely atmospheric office/apartment building is particularly effective at setting the unsettling mood.

From "The Discarnates."
From “The Discarnates.”

Tsurutarō Kataoka and Kumiko Akiyoshi are wonderfully warm and engaging as Harada’s parents, while Yûko Natori is powerfully seductive as Fujino. Harada is an awkward, mopey cold fish, but Morio Kazama somehow manages to convey a sense that he has more going on inside than meets the eye. His stiff persona also plays with and against the more outgoing Kataoka and Akiyoshi quite well.

There are serious stakes involved in Discarnates, but it leaves viewers feeling satisfied in a bittersweet kind of way, instead of wrung out by its thrills and chills. At times, Obayashi intentionally echoes the devices of Harada’s potboilers (Puccini soundtracks being his favorite cliché), but once again the auteur shows a knack for making potentially bizarre and artificial stylistic choices work rather well in practice. It is a rare paranormal drama that is distinguished by its heart and maturity, somewhat akin to Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Journey to the Shore. Very highly recommended, The Discarnates screens this Saturday (12/5) at the Japan Society in New York.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on December 3rd, 2015 at 3:37pm.

LFM Reviews Macbeth

By Joe BendelAcademics have long debated just how many children Lady Macbeth had and lost, because they don’t hand out tenure for nothing. Justin Kurzel’s new cinematic take on the Scottish Play is willing to go on record positing one child, whose tragic death will psychologically torment her and her noble husband unremittingly. Kurzel also more fully embraces the blood and carnage of battle than politely prestigious productions past in his vivid adaptation of Macbeth, which opens this Friday in New York.

You might not recognize the scene of Macbeth, Thane of Glamis and Lady Macbeth burning their young child on a funeral pyre, but from there on, it is business as usual. However, Kurzel does not skimp on hack-and-slash action when Macbeth and his faithful comrade Banquo vanquish the forces of the treasonous Macdonwald. Just as the three witches promise, Macbeth is promoted to Thane Cawdor following the traitor’s execution. That gives Lady Macbeth ideas about the rest of the witches’ prophesy, particularly the part about Macbeth becoming King of Scotland. However, they had an addendum hailing Banquo as the forefather of future kings that somewhat vexes the childless Macbeth.

Macbeth-2015-Movie-PosterAlthough Lady Macbeth does indeed prompt her husband to commit murder, Kurzel’s conception of the Scottish Play is remarkably forgiving of this often vilified noble woman. Again, the explicit grief for her child humanizes her subsequent sins to a considerable extent. On the other hand, Malcolm the heir apparent is portrayed in unusually shallow and cowardly terms.

Casting Michael Fassbender as Macbeth is so logically self-evident, it seems strange nobody tried to do it sooner. He does not disappoint, completely committing to Kurzel’s highly physical conception of the Thane. One look from him can make the heather on the hills wilt. In contrast, Marion Cotillard’s Lady Macbeth is unusually sensitive and guilt-ridden. Unlike memorably ferocious Lady Macbeths (Rosanne Ma in the Pan Asian Rep’s Shogun Macbeth is still a favorite), she is almost delicate, which makes the contrast between her and Macbeth all the more dramatic. Paddy Considine and Sean Harris also add considerable grit and heft as Banquo and Macduff, respectively.

Visually, cinematographer Adam Arkapaw work is just as bold, deliberately evoking blood and fire with his vivid color palette, while (brother) Jed Kurzel’s minimalist score gives the film a contemporary vibe. Kurzel somewhat overindulges in symbolic imagery with his over the top closing sequence, but that is a minor misstep. In general, his fearlessness pays dividends.

Frankly, all the best Shakespearean films take some liberties with their source material. Arguably, Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood remains the greatest cinematic Macbeth, with its completely original but utterly iconic death scene. Kurzel’s Macbeth is a worthy follower in its tradition. Like Ralph Fiennes’ Coriolanus, Kurzel is very much in touch with the manly, action-driven side of Shakespeare, while also ruthlessly plumbing the dark psychological depths of his flawed characters. Highly recommended, Macbeth opens this Friday (12/4) in New York, at the Landmark Sunshine.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on December 2nd, 2015 at 10:50am.

LFM Reviews 1944 @ AFI’s 2015 EU Film Showcase

By Joe BendelEstonian fought Estonian, but it was not a civil war. Fifty-five thousand men from the small Baltic nation were shanghaied into service with the Red Army during the first Soviet occupation. When fortunes on the Eastern Front temporarily tilted Germany’s way, another 72,000 Estonians were drafted, primarily by the Waffen-SS, because the Wehrmacht maintained a strict German national identity. The Estonian wartime experience becomes the stuff of high dramatic tragedy in Elmo Nüganen’s 1944, Estonia’s official foreign language Oscar submission, which screens as part of the AFI’s 2015 EU Film Showcase.

Like most of his Estonian comrades, Karl Tammik has little hope of living through the war. Although he has no love for the National Socialists, he is resigned to his service in their army, in part because he holds such a grudge against the Soviets. Tammik also bitterly blames himself for not moving quicker to prevent his family’s exile to Siberia. He is particularly haunted by the memory of his baby sister. Under his leadership, the ragtag Estonian unit will temporarily help hold the Tannenberg Line.

When momentum swings back to the Soviets, Nüganen and screenwriter Leo Kunnas shift their focus to an Estonian Red Army platoon. In a twist of fate worthy of Sophocles, Tammik will face Jüri Jõgi in the heat of battle. It was Jõgi’s collaborator father who denounced Tammik’s family to the Communists. However, the son has none of his father’s ideological zeal, at least not anymore. Yet, since he has the right sort of family background, the ruthless political officer is determined to recruit him as an informer against his unusually competent commander.

1944Nüganen stages some of the best trench warfare scenes ever filmed. He also convincingly portrays the confusion and arbitrariness of warfighting without letting the film descend into random bedlam. Basically, viewers can tell exactly how doomed the characters are, in ferociously realistic terms. Yet, there is also a sweeping irony that somehow seems to flow naturally out of the fundamental absurdity of the Estonians’ situation. Kunnas structures the film with almost perfect symmetry, escalating the grief and sorrow with each reprise.

As Tammik, Kaspar Velberg broods like a man possessed, despite his natural Baltic reserve. Likewise, Kristjan Üksküla’s Jõgi quietly wears his angst and guilt on his sleeve like badge of dishonor, until he finally explodes (by Baltic standards). Peeter Tammearu is also profoundly loathsome as Kreml the political officer. Not surprisingly, there are not many roles for women in 1944, but Maken Schmidt makes the most of her screen time as Tammik’s sister Aino. It is a heartbreaking but complex performance that will knock the wind out of you.

Nüganen’s battle scenes can hang with anything Hollywood has produced in recent years, but it is the massive micro and macro ironies that make 1944 such a powerhouse. Based on its graphic depictions of the Red Army’s brutal tactics, the Russians are sure to have Nüganen and Kunnas’s names on a list if they ever invade Estonia again—and if you find that scenario highly unlikely then you really need to see 1944. Very highly recommended, 1944 screens this Saturday (12/5) as part of the AFI’s EU Film Showcase.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on December 2nd, 2015 at 10:49am.

LFM Reviews Microphone Test @ Making Waves: New Romanian Cinema

Mic Test

By Joe BendelSeveral times Nelu Stroe’s mandatory military service has been postponed, but make no mistake, as a cameraman for the state media service, he is still very definitely at the government’s beck and call. He thinks his has charted an easier course for himself, but he starts to question his choices when he meets a relatively free-spirited woman. Subtly but subversively, Mircea Daneliuc holds a sly mirror up to 1980s Communist society in Microphone Test, which screens as part of a retrospective tribute to the filmmaker at this year’s Making Waves: New Romanian Cinema (at the Jacob Burns Film Center).

That is Daneliuc himself behind Stroe’s era appropriate mustache, as well as his constantly rolling camera. The year might be 1980, but Stroe works on a very contemporary sounding show. In their early forerunner of reality TV, Stroe films his on-again-off-again lover as she ambushes petty criminals. Her preferred prey are train passengers caught riding without tickets, such as the unrepentant Ani Covete. Much to his surprise, Covete reaches out to Stroe, but not in hopes of spiking her story. Instead, she rather smoothly charms him into loaning her money.

Thus begins a stormy, complicated romance. Although on some level Stroe realizes he is being played, he cannot help falling for her. He also starts to sympathize with her frustrations with the labor and residency regulations that prevent her from taking a sustainable job. Seeing bureaucracy from her perspective is an eye-opener. However, the health of their relationship becomes rather precarious due to her continued contact with her ex and his yet to be fixed draft notice.

Test might seem like decidedly cautious satire by our standards, but it was pretty rigorous stuff for its time. The groovy atmosphere also helps sweeten its caustic attitude. In terms of tone, think of it as a cross between Andrzej Wajda’s Without Anesthesia and a frank 1970s relationship dramedy—sort of. In fact, it takes several very strange detours that are still quite in keeping with its spirit.

From "Microphone Test."
From “Microphone Test.”

Daneliuc is really terrific as Stroe, helping his cause no end. One could argue he gives two distinct performances, with and without mustache, but they are both great. As Covete, Tora Vasilescu resembles a Romanian Debra Winger and she has a similar unpredictability. That might make Gina Patrichi a Gena Rowlands or Anne Bancroft figure as the older, more cynical reporter. There are serious sparks flying whenever the three play off each other.

Microphone Test is not an outraged protest film, but it offers viewers surreptitious peaks inside the Romania of its time. It is a messy world, filled with absurdist regulations, bitter power games, and good old fashioned lust. Intellectually fascinating and almost perversely engrossing, Microphone Test screens this Thursday (12/3) as part of Making Waves at the Jacob Burns Film Center in Pleasantville.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on December 2nd, 2015 at 10:49am.

LFM Reviews Aliyah DaDa @ Making Waves: New Romanian Cinema

By Joe BendelAfter the Six-Day War, Romania was the only Warsaw Pact country to maintain diplomatic relations with the State of Israel. That’s not much to say for the Ceauşescu regime, but at least it’s something. In truth, Israel and Romania had a long and complex history that predated 1967, going back to the very first organized Aliyah that originated in part from Romania. Oania Giurgiu talks to descendants of those very first pioneers in her sweeping yet highly personal documentary, Aliyah DaDa, which screens during the 2015 edition of Making Waves: New Romanian Cinema.

In the late Nineteenth Century, a hearty band of Romanian Jews returned to their ancient homeland. It was a hard life, but the local Arab population was rather glad to have them there as potential allies and buffers in their quarrels with the Bedouins. They would not be the last Romanian Jews to take the Aliyah journey to what would be known as Israel again in 1948. However, the fascist Antonescu regime imposed anti-Jewish laws, much like their Axis allies, which abruptly halted all Jewish immigration.

Jewish Romanian transit re-commenced in the immediate power-war years, but at that time leaving Romania was the safest part of the journey. Following the purge of prominent Jewish CP member Ana Pauker, Ceauşescu generally followed the Soviets’ anti-Semitic party line. Yet, he still periodically allowed spurts of immigration to Israel, in return for hard currency.

Those are the broad strokes of it, but it is the personal details that interest Giurgiu. Though not Jewish herself, she had always been fascinated by the fate of immigrating Jewish Hungarians after her parents bought their house from one such family. She also finds a visually distinctive way to tell their stories, constructing on-screen photo-collages inspired by the work of Tristan Tzara and Marcel Janco, two Jewish Romanians who were at the forefront of the DaDa art movement.

We should all know the fundamentals of Romania’s tragic Communist and fascist past, but seeing it as part of a continuum of over a century of history rather puts things in perspective. All things considered, it is miraculous the nation is not even more dysfunctional. To her credit, Giurgiu keeps the film grounded in the human realities of the grand macro forces through her interviews with the frank and welcoming Romanian-Israelis.

From "Aliyah DaDa."
From “Aliyah DaDa.”

Strangely enough, Giurgiu’s cinematic collages also serve the material quite well, dramatically illustrating the passage of time through her layering-on and stripping off. She also assembles some striking archival photos, which are often haunting, nostalgic, or a little of both. Her interview style is decidedly informal, but it clearly works with both the learned scholars and weathered farmers descended from members of that 1882 Aliyah.

ADD is briskly paced but also provides a surprisingly comprehensive yet digestible overview of Jewish Romanian history up until the Revolution. It offers insights into both totalitarian systems that misruled the nation during the last century, while also earning way more style points than your garden variety documentary. Highly recommended, Aliyah DaDa screens this Thursday (12/3) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s Making Waves: New Romanian Cinema.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on December 2nd, 2015 at 10:48am.