By Joe Bendel. Just because they are Danish soldiers, that does not mean they should trust the media any more than their American counterparts. A group of Danes serving in Afghanistan learns this PR lesson the hard way in Janus Metz’s embed-style documentary Armadillo, which opened yesterday in New York and elsewhere.
Amazingly, as the film opens, the Danish unit stationed at the Helmand forward operating base (nicknamed Armadillo) has yet to suffer a fatal casualty. In fact, when the group of soldiers Metz follows from enlistment and basic training arrive at Armadillo, boredom seems to be their greatest foe. In a rather clumsy effort to be provocative, Metz makes much of their choice of entertainment: violent video games and run-of-the-mill porn, as if this were shocking for a group of twenty-something men serving in the middle of nowhere without any interaction with women.
The Danish soldiers make an effort to reach out to the locals, but they have trouble overcoming the widespread fear of Taliban reprisals. Isolated and untested, the Helmand outpost is simply too tempting a target for the Taliban to resist for long. Eventually they make their move. Unfortunately, it is impossible to really tell what went down in the soon-to-be-controversial incident. Most of the camerawork is a veritable blur, which is understandable considering that bullets were flying. However, Metz never establishes any reference points for area in question, or sets the scene in any way. Continue reading LFM Review: Armadillo & The War in Afghanistan
Sean Bean as Eddard Stark in HBO's "Game of Thrones."
By Joe Bendel. The Lord of the Rings and Narnia films proved there is now adequate technology to credibly adapt epic fantasy for the big (or small) screen. Having sufficient time is a separate issue. Readers of big fat fantasy novels are not simply interested in hack-and-slash action. Exotic world-building and impossibly intricate plotting are arguably even more important for them. Enter HBO, who have done right by the fans of George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Fire and Ice novels with their ten episode series adaption of the first book, Game of Thrones, which debuts this Sunday night.
“Winter is coming” says the motto of the House of the Stark, but winters in the Seven Kingdoms have a bite beyond mere cold temperatures. Lord Eddard “Ned” Stark understands winters and wars better than anyone. A grizzled veteran who prefers his northern provincial home to life at the court in King’s Landing, he is ever loyal to his monarch and former comrade-in-arms, Robert Baratheon. However, when the “King’s Hand” (essentially a Viceroy) dies under mysterious circumstances, Stark reluctantly accepts the position. It will be awkward, though. There is little love between the House of Stark and the House of Lannister, whose ranks include Queen Cersei and her arrogant twin brother Ser Jaime.
Emilia Clarke as Daenerys Targaryen.
While the Lannisters give Stark plenty to worry about, there are other storms brewing on the horizon. Viserys Targaryen, Baratheon’s vanquished rival for the throne, has made an alliance with the barbarian hordes of the east, betrothing his sister to their Khal. Meanwhile, Stark’s illegitimate son Jon Snow has joined the Night’s Watch, which stands guard over the great northern wall, where there have been disturbing reports from the “lawless lands” on the other side.
Naturally, everything gets very complicated. In fact, those just looking for a little swordplay might grow impatient with the first two installments. Still, Game’s knack for ending each episode with a dramatic revelation should keep most viewers hooked. Fans of the novels should be especially delighted with the series’ attention to gritty details that vividly bring Martin’s fantasy world to life. Time is also profitably allotted to explore dozens of relations that a two hour feature would have had to sacrifice, such as the sparring sessions and life lessons dispensed to Arya, the youngest Stark daughter, by her fencing instructor – who looks and sounds as if he stepped out of a Rafael Sabatini novel (that is not a bad thing).
Coming in with serious swashbuckling credibility from his work as Bernard Cornwall’s Richard Sharpe, Sean Bean was the perfect (and perhaps only) choice to play Stark. He effortlessly combines a commanding presence with an unassuming integrity. An alumnus of sitcoms and The Full Monty, Mark Addy is surprisingly effective as the blustering, tempestuous king. He also has some intriguingly nuanced scenes with the beautiful Lena Headey, who makes a riveting Lady Macbeth figure as Queen Cersei.
Undeniably though, the real breakout fanboy superstar from Game will be Peter Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister, the queen’s hedonistic younger brother, known as “The Imp” for his diminutive size. Recognizing the appeal of a good anti-hero, Dinklage plays his role to the hilt, chewing the scenery and visibly enjoying his character’s wickedness. It is contagious. The Imp’s scenes crackle with verve, giving the series a jolt of energy with each and every appearance.
Game is a laudably ambitious undertaking that works remarkably well based on the evidence of the first six episodes. It gets epic fantasy right and definitely leaves viewers wanting more at the conclusion of each installment. While not especially violent (though there are certainly some intense sequences), parents should fully understand Game is not Narnia. There are plenty of elements that will definitely remind viewers they are watching HBO, the home of Michael Apted’s Rome, if you follow. Regardless, most relatively mature viewers should be absorbed by its intricate story and first-rate effects. Definitely recommended, Game’s first episode, Winter is Coming, debuts this Sunday (4/17), only on HBO.
By Joe Bendel. There are 102 stars on the memorial wall at CIA headquarters in Langley. Each one signifies an officer who died in the line of duty. In their latest film, director Joe Wright and screenwriters Seth Lochhead and David Farr add at least eight stars to their ranks, inviting the audience to give a bloodthirsty cheer for each and every execution. Hollywood has come a long way since we first met James Bond’s CIA colleague Felix Leiter, but it is difficult to think of a film more hostile to the men and women who serve in America’s intelligence services than Wright’s Hanna, which opens widely today.
Hanna was developed by the Agency to be a super-killer. However, when the program was canceled, vampy agent Marisa Wiegler was charged with disposing of the evidence—and you know what that means. Somehow though, Hanna’s presumed father Erik was able to whisk her away to a remote Finnish hideaway, where he continues her training, relentlessly attacking her like a fatherly version of Inspector Clouseau’s man-servant Cato.
When Hanna decides she is ready to face Wiegler, she activates Erik’s clunky CIA signal beacon, a piece of hardware perhaps developed by the same company that produces self-destruct switches for super villains’ lairs. (This seems like an oddly passive strategy, considering Hanna and Erik spend about eighteen hours of the day stalking wild game or each other.)
Extracted simply so she can escape again, Hanna cuts through at least eight CIA personnel and a number of freelance contractors on her way to rendezvousing Erik. If that were not disturbing enough, dear old Erik also kills two completely innocent German cops, though their deaths are kept antiseptically off-screen.
As Hanna, Saorise Ronan is quite a credible young action star and can be excused for not fully appreciating the film’s ideological implications. For his part, Eric (with a “c”) Bana mostly broods sullenly as Erik (with a “k”). However,Cate Blanchett’s Wiegler looks and sounds like a stand-up comic’s bad impression of the late Ann Richards. At least she is allowed a personality. The rest of the film’s CIA personnel and associates are colorlessly interchangeable—mere meat for Hanna’s grinder, except for one conspicuously “swishy” contractor, a bizarre exercise stereotyping for this day and age.
To give due credit, Wright stages some energetic action sequences. Unfortunately, this also makes the film more effective as propaganda. It is only too easy to picture Hanna playing for months in countries across the Mideast eager to indulge in some cheap anti-Americanism. Indeed, following the revelation that YouTube clips of Brian De Palma’s anti-Iraq broadside Redacted helped spur the fatal shooting of two American servicemen at the Frankfurt airport, a film like Hanna can no longer be viewed in an ethical vacuum.
Frankly, Wright, Bana, Blanchett, and the rest of the grown-ups behind the film should be asked directly how they would explain their film to the family of CIA officer Johnny Michael Spann, the first official American casualty in Afghanistan – killed by duplicitous Taliban terrorists. What would they say to the family of William Buckley, the CIA Beirut station chief brutally tortured and murdered by Hezbollah? What would they say to the friends and family of anyone of the fallen 102?
Indeed, Hanna has serious issues far beyond its gaping logical holes and clunky performances. It is deeply cynical and profoundly disrespectful of the American intelligence officers who risk their lives on behalf of their country. Entirely problematic, Hanna should be avoided when it opens today.
By Joe Bendel. In 1968, Amos Poe was a budding photographer visiting family in Czechoslovakia. For obvious reasons, the Soviet invasion cut short his photographic sojourn to the countryside. There were no such constraints in the lawless anarchy of late 1970s New York, where Poe became a trailblazer in the underground Super-8 filmmaking community. Céline Danhier profiles those squatter-auteurs in Blank City, which opens this Wednesday in New York at the IFC Center.
Abe Beam’s New York was about as pre-Giuliani as the City ever got. The rule of law was tenuous at best, but rents in the East Village were relatively affordable—not that anyone even bothered to pay. CBGB’s was the center of the musical universe, also hosting a number of early screenings of what would later be dubbed the “No Wave” movement.
Danhier scored interviews with just about every significant surviving figure on the scene at the time. A portrait emerges of a kind of dormitory-like atmosphere, where everyone knew each other, but nobody had a job. Though they do not confess it outright, “coolness” within the clique was clearly of primary importance. Musician-turned-filmmaker John Lurie admits he hid his saxophone, “because nobody was doing what they knew how to do . . . technique was so hated.”
The great irony of Blank is that Danhier’s doc is far easier to watch than a good many of the films it documents. Fortunately, just about every chaotic shoot generated its share of humorous anecdotes, which generously pepper Blank. Indeed, the film is at its best when filmmakers like Jim Jarmusch reminisce about their early days. However, it is hard to stifle the eye-rolling when her interview subjects get political. At least Lizzie Borden expresses grief for the World Trade Center terrorist attack, while acknowledging the awkward similarity between 9/11 and the conclusion of her film Born in Flame.
Granted, Poe’s Blank Generation is probably not at the top of a lot of Netflix queues. Still, it is bit of an eye-opener to see how many figures from the Blank scene either legitimately crossed over, like Jarmusch, Steve Buscemi, Debbie Harry, Susan Seidelman, and Ann Magnuson, or kind-of sort-of did, such as John Lurie, Charlie “Wild Style” Ahearn, and Bette Gordon.
Like the films under discussion, Blank is best when its participants do not take their illustrious careers too seriously. While the time spent with the subsequent “Cinema of Transgression” lacks the same charm, the film mostly works as a valentine to scruffy independent filmmaking. Surprisingly entertaining, Blank opens today at the IFC Center.
By Joe Bendel. For many South Koreans, it is difficult to believe the reports of horrific human rights abuses committed in the North. That is why Polish director Andrzej Fidyk became the prime mover behind Yodok Stories, a stage musical about the inhuman atrocities regularly happening in North Korean concentration camps. Fidyk also documented the controversial theatrical production, undertaken at great risk by defectors who survived the Yodok camp, in his eye-opening Norwegian-produced film, likewise titled Yodok Stories, a standout selection of the 2009 Tribeca Film Festival now available for free in its entirety (see above) at Snag Films.
One thing the North Koreans certainly know is how to do is stage huge spectacles of tens of thousands of tightly choreographed participants, like the grand pageant celebrating the fortieth anniversary of DPRK Fidyk recorded in his 1988 documentary Parade. Impressed by the technical skill required to mount such a production, Fidyk wanted to collaborate with a former North Korean director to document the rest of the North Korean experiment in Communist collectivism. After many inquiries, he eventually found Jung Sung San. Continue reading LFM Review: Yodok Stories & North Korean Tyranny + Watch Film Now for FREE
By Joe Bendel. When CBS journalist Lara Logan was assaulted by a gang of rampaging men in Tahrir Square, it became clear that there is a real problem in how a sizeable portion of Egypt’s Islamic male population relates to women. When NPR had to delete scores of hateful comments on the Logan story and issue a scolding reminder to its readers (serviced by our tax dollars) that violence against women is always unacceptable, the western media’s deficiency handling issues like the conditions endured by women in Egypt (and in the wider Muslim world) also became blatantly clear. Now with his directorial debut, Mohamed Diab offers a blistering corrective to his country’s self-serving denial and outright misogyny in Cairo 6,7,8, which screens during the 2011 New Directors/New Films, co-presented by MoMA and the Film Society of Lincoln Center.
Cairo’s buses are a groper’s playground. Fayza understands this only too well. Every time she files onto the titular 6/7/8 line, she is felt up. It is taking a toll on the traditional working class Muslim woman, depleting her spirit and further poisoning her already frosty relations with her boorish husband.
Modern and affluent, Seba was the victim of a large scale sexual assault during a soccer match that eerily parallels the subsequent Logan story. Naturally, her husband blamed her—not directly of course, but through his emotional distance. As part of her own recovery process, Seba begins teaching self-defense and empowerment classes for women, attracting Fayza as a student. Eventually, the two join forces with Nelly, a hip, aspiring stand-up comic who has launched the country’s’ first sexual harassment lawsuit. Continue reading LFM Review: Cairo 6,7,8 and Women’s Freedom in Egypt
