Category: 4. Joe Bendel

By Joe Bendel. How can a major metropolis simultaneously become larger but less cosmopolitan? Such appears to be the case when Laila Kamel returns to her family home in Amman, Jordan after a long stay in America. Things have changed for the worse in Mohammad Al Hushki’s Transit Cities (trailer here), which has a special one week New York theatrical run in conjunction with the Dialogue of Cultures International Film Festival, beginning today (10/21).

After fourteen years, Kamel returns to Amman a divorced woman. It is a personal failure she is not eager to admit to her family. However, her father is not exactly grilling her for information. Broken by his own disappointments and openly contemptuous of her lifestyle choices, he barely speaks to her. Of course, he hardly speaks to anyone, so acute is his depression.

Much too her surprise, Kamel’s mother and sister now wear the hijab in public. Granted, Amman is not Saudi, but the prodigal daughter is shocked by the radical shift in gender role expectations. Not surprisingly, she has a difficult time acclimating to the “new” Jordan. Nor does she win many new friends disdaining religious hypocrisies, like the practice of charging Murabaha or Islamic interest.

It is more than a bit surprising the state chartered Royal Film Commission Jordan would partner in Transit’s production, yet here it is. Indeed, the film portrays Jordan as a society in regression with a distinctly inflationary economy. In this non-usurious environment, coffee for two in a comfortable café will run you sixty dollars (it must be shade-grown fair-trade). However, if Kamel invites over a man for a long night of wine and reminiscing, it is a scandal.

Saba Mubarak makes a strong impression as Kamel, vividly expressing all her mounting frustrations, resentments, and self-doubts. She is a complex character, who sometimes makes matters worse for a host of contradicting motivations, but is never unreasonably unreasonable. Likewise, Ashraf Farah brings assured nuance to the jaded Rabea, her father’s former young colleague, with whom she shares considerable history the film merely hints at. Together, they develop very intriguing if not exactly romantic chemistry together.

Only Jordan’s second “indie” production, Transit is quite stylishly put together. Though Al Hushki intimately focuses on Kamel, cinematographer Mahmoud Lofty evocatively captures the mood of dislocated alienation, like a Lost in Translation with a point to it all. Traditional in its instrumentation but often sounding relatively modern in its melodic and harmonic approach, Nadim Sarraj’s score also perfectly suits the film’s between-two-worlds themes.

While clocking-in just over the seventy minute mark, Transit is a wholly engaging and satisfying film (though alas, not necessarily an optimistic one). A shrewd choice to serve as the DCIFF’s showcase selection, it screens for a full week in New York at the Quad Cinema starting today (10/21)—and tickets are only $5.00.

Posted on October 21st, 2011 at 2:22pm.

By Joe Bendel. Two of the hottest topics in fiction ostensibly written for teens – but really read by adults – are angels and vampires. Ava Chen is neither, but she is only too aware they both exist in Jennifer Thym’s sleek action-horror short film Bloodtraffick (trailer here), which screens at the 2011 San Diego Asian Film Festival.

According to Bloodtraffick’s mythology, angels took human form to wage an earthly battle against the vampires. Unfortunately, the latter rather logically proved to be much more effective hunters, taking the war to the angels instead. Chen’s two sisters are angels, but she is human—another race known for producing killers. Following the trail of her long missing-in-action siblings, Chen comes face-to-face with a sadistic vampire. There will be carnage.

Clearly intended as a prologue to a forthcoming franchise, Bloodtraffick efficiently establishes its Underworld-esque backstory, while announcing the arrival of an intense new vampire slayer. Soon to be seen with Russell Crowe in RZA’s The Man with the Iron Fists, Grace Huang has far more action cred than Buffy or Kate Beckinsale, and is considerably more photogenic than either. Frankly, the prospective of watching her mow down the undead looks pretty bullet proof.

Thym’s execution in Bloodtraffick is also quite strong. Deftly capitalizing on the short’s creepy burnt-out industrial setting, she keeps the action gritty and the adrenaline pumping, but also invests the film with some pretty heavy archetypal imagery. Without question, this is professional grade filmmaking.

After watching Bloodtraffick, viewers will definitely want to see a full feature outing for Chen, which is really the best recommendation for a film like this. Combining stylish action, an intriguing premise, and a fanboy-pleasing heroine, it certainly has all the elements. Definitely recommended, Bloodtraffick screens with Sion Sono’s Cold Fish today (10/21) and the Friday following (10/28) at the 2011 SDAFF. It also screens at the 2011 Philadelphia Asian American Film Festival on November 5th, along with JP Chan’s cool Digital Antiquities, as part of Shorts Program 1.

Posted on October 21st, 2011 at 2:22pm.

By Joe Bendel. Talking pictures were a truly Schumpeterian phenomenon for Hollywood. As any film lover knows from Singin’ in the Rain, some silent movie stars could weather the creative destruction wrought by the transition to sound, whereas some could not. Matinee idol George Valentin was one of those who could not “talk.” Fittingly, his story is a told silently (or nearly so) in The Artist (trailer here), Michel Hazanavicius’s glorious black-and-white homage to the golden age of Hollywood, which screened Sunday at the 49th New York Film Festival.

It is 1927. George Valentin is at the height of his popularity as a Douglas Fairbanks-style swashbuckler. He has just fought the red menace as an agent of free Georgia in The Russian Affair. However, studio mogul Al Zimmer has something disturbing to show him: synchronized sound. Dismissing the future, Valentin returns to work on his next picture, which will be remembered as the brief screen debut of future superstar Peppy Miller. Obviously thrilled to have any screen time, Miller is particularly excited to share a scene with her favorite star, George Valentin.

When talkies become the standard, Miller’s career takes off like a rocket with frothy romantic comedies. Meanwhile, Valentin’s attempt to finance his own silent comeback vehicle proves disastrous. Yet, Miller’s feelings for yesterday’s leading man remain unchanged.

Hazanavicius consciously draws from dozens of classic films (both pre- and post-Jazz Singer), as well as numerous real larger-than-life Hollywood figures. What follows incorporates elements of A Star is Born, Sunset Boulevard, and Greta Garbo’s relationship with John Gilbert. (Sadly, many modern movie-goers will miss the allusions, but perhaps the notion of a film without diegetic sound might be a brand new novelty item for them.)

The work of many artists, the film is a visual splendor, beginning with Guillaume Schiffman’s lush and moody black-and-white cinematography, which makes the elegant sets and costumes softly glow like a Cecil Beaton portrait. Still, it is the depth of Hazanavicius’s screenplay that really distinguishes The Artist.

Not merely a series of winks at TCM watchers, the film is quite a touching love story, completely free of irony. On the two occasions he breaks format, sound is used in creative ways that cleverly advance the film. Periodically, Hazanavicius also appears to indulge in a witty in-joke, yet in each case, their dramatic logic quickly catches us by surprise. Likewise, while his intertitles have a simplicity befitting the period, they convey a surprising richness of meaning.

Familiar to American audiences from the French OSS spy spoofs, Jean Dujardin gives another very physical performance here, but the complexity and pathos of his Valentin is in a whole different league. Indeed, it is a tricky proposition to play a mugging actor without ever mugging for the camera, yet he is never overly broad or over the top, keeping the faded movie star acutely human throughout. He also develops some endearing romantic chemistry with Bérénice Bejo as Miller.

Frankly, the Argentine-French Bejo is about the only person working in film today who can approximate the glamorous look of Hollywood in its heyday (yes, this definitely includes Michelle Williams). Exquisite and vulnerable, she deserves a bit of award attention along with Dujardin, the best actor winner at this year’s Cannes. In contrast, the American supporting cast does not have much to do, but John Goodman’s cigar-chomping shtick works perfectly for Zimmer, even without sound.

Right now, the Oscar prognosticators are focusing on Dujardin for best actor, but with a shrewd campaign behind it, The Artist might have a puncher’s chance at the top prize. It is a beautifully rendered valentine to movie-making, featuring two wildly charismatic romantic leads. Highly recommended, The Artist was one of the highlights of a very strong slate at this year’s NYFF.

[Editors’ Note: we want to thank Joe Bendel for his rich, comprehensive coverage of this year’s New York Film Festival.]

Posted on October 18th, 2011 at 8:26am.

By Joe Bendel. Archery is a handy sport to take up if you want a valid excuse to carry about a potentially lethal weapon. As it happens, a young Italian woman has a strong motivation to become an archer in E.M. Artale’s My Bow Breathing (trailer here), one of two shorts with both genuine art film polish and genre movie appeal screening at the 49th New York Film Festival.

She has not been training long, but her coach recognizes her natural talent. However, the woman has weightier matters on her mind than merely winning competitions. She is out for revenge and she will have it. Played with slow burning intensity by Giulia Bertinelli, “The Archer” holds her own with “The Bride” from Kill Bill, delivering more retribution on a per frame basis than the original Death Wish. Like Chaimae Ben Acha in Sean Gullette’s Traitors, Bertinelli has real movie-star potential, but a lot of people will miss their work at NYFF because of a prejudice against shorts. Do not mistake this mistake.

Stylishly helmed by Artale, Bow looks nothing like a standard vigilante-payback film, but it can easily be enjoyed on such terms by those so inclined. Likewise, Jaime Dezcallar’s The Bird Spider is far more psychologically complex than a mere killer spider movie, but there is no denying the presence of the deadly eight-legged crawler.

If arrows are a somewhat unusual weapon for vengeance-seeking, a poisonous spider represents a downright bizarre method of suicide. Yet, a depressed man is not simply out to take his own life, but to burn away the pain of his recent break-up by enduring his worst childhood phobia, until it kills him. Buying a poisonous spider from a pet store (exotic pet regulations must be lax in Spain), he turns it loose in his apartment. Conscious the spider could strike at any moment, he willingly plunges himself into a Kafkaesque nightmare.

Bird Spider has a similar vibe as many of the recent bumper crop of creepy Spanish horror movies, but offers more than just a few good jolts (which it definitely has). The claustrophobic setting and unsettling premise really get under your skin, while Raffel Plana Honorato’s score also nicely helps build the suspense as well as a sense of melancholia.

Highly recommended, Bow and Bird are excellent short films that should satisfy snobby cineastes and genre diehards in equal measure as the 2011 NYFF approaches the homestretch.

Posted on October 17th, 2011 at 11:53am.

By Joe Bendel. They are like the Runaways of Tangier, except a Moroccan all-women punk group really is rather rebellious, just in its very existence. Yet family issues will preoccupy their fiery lead singer over the course of a typically eventful day for the band in Sean Gullette’s Traitors, which screens this Saturday as part of the 49th New York Film Festival’s Shorts Program #2.

Best known as the ragged mathematician in Darren Aronofsky’s Pi, Gullette makes his directorial debut with Traitors (that is, with an anarchy sign for the “a”), named after the band fronted by Malika. The camera truly loves hitherto unknown Chaimae Ben Acha as the lead singer, even the handheld digitals used by Gullette’s cinematographers Benoït Peverilli and Niko Tavernise. If there is one future international star represented at this year’s festival, it must be Acha.

For one thing, she can really belt it out Joan Jett style. We first encounter Traitors rehearsing a song that tells us all we need know about their opinion of Morocco’s cops and politicians. It’s not very high. In need of cash for an upcoming gig, Malika naturally plans to “borrow” some from her elegant, professional-class mother. However, in the process of rifling through her parents’ room she learns an upsetting secret.

As Malika and her bandmates careen through the night, we get a visceral sense of the Tangier underground youth culture. When the cops show up, they do their best to live up to Traitors’ cynical assessment. Yet, aside from petty public corruption, Gullette’s film avoids the larger potential macro-conflicts. Just what the local religious authorities would think of the band is left to viewers’ imagination. Still, crude sexism and unwelcomed lechery seem to be fairly widespread among the Moroccan men Malika encounters.

Acha gives a knockout performance, but she is not carrying the film alone. Firouz Rahal Bouzid and Abdesslam Bounouacha also contribute wonderfully human supporting turns as Malika’s parents. Running just over half an hour, Traitors is no mere sketch. By any standards of dramatic cinema, it is a wholly satisfying, self-contained film. A real discovery, Traitors screens this Saturday (10/15), as a selection of Shorts Program #2 at the 2011 NYFF.

Posted on October 14th, 2011 at 9:42am.