Category: 4. Joe Bendel

Review: Mao’s Last Dancer & Artistic Freedom

By Joe Bendel. For fifty-plus years, Mainland China’s Communist government has experienced bitter factional rivalries and instituted enormously destructive campaigns for ideological purity.  While the pendulum has swung back and forth from relative stability to institutionalized insanity, it has remained an authoritarian state where artistic freedom is simply impossible.  That is why twenty year-old ballet dancer Li Cunxin defected to America in the early 1980’s.  It was a bold decision that would define Li’s bestselling memoir and Oscar-nominated director Bruce Beresford’s subsequent big-screen adaptation, Mao’s Last Dancer, which opens this Friday (8/20) in select theaters nationwide.

As a young boy, Li was slight but flexible as enough to be accepted at Madame Mao’s ballet academy.  Diligently training to build his strength, his natural talent blossomed -even in the didactic productions foisted on the academy by their ideologue patron.

Eventually Li was entrusted to study with the Houston Ballet as part of a cultural exchange program.  Primed to expect unspeakable misery, Li slowly discovers America is not as he was led to believe.  Acclimating to the new environment, he actually finds he dances better in the land of class enemies because he “feels freer.”  He also falls in love with Elizabeth Mackey, an aspiring dancer.  Then his life really starts to change.

Li indeed decides to defect, news the Chinese government does not happily receive when he ill-advisedly delivers it in-person.  In fact, they forcibly detain him in the Consulate, with the intention of whisking him out of the country against his will.  However, Li’s friends refuse to leave quietly (fortunately Texans can be an unruly lot), precipitating an international incident.

Dancer is a truly inspiring crowd-pleaser of a film, but it is not an overly-sanitized or conveniently simplistic reduction of a complex, real life story.  In fact, the guilt-wracked Li, fearing dreadful repercussions for his family, frequently quarrels with Mackey, eventually even divorcing her.  Yet, as a result, Li emerges as a flesh-and-blood human being.  We can also forgive the film for indulging in its manipulative coda, having more or less earned its triumphant freeze frame.

As wildly improbable as it might sound, much of Dancer was shot on-location in China.  Reportedly, once shooting was underway, the authorities began demanding changes to the script, but to his credit, Beresford rebuffed them.  As a result, there are indeed scenes of Madame Mao (who remains an official non-person in China), played by a truly eerie dead-ringer for the Gang of Four leader.  We also watch as Li’s mentor at the academy is purged for perceived ideological offenses, such as teaching the techniques of counter-revolutionary defectors like Nureyev and Baryshnikov.  (Granted, the film also seems to imply contemporary China may be loosening up, at least to an extent.)

Amanda Schull & Chi Cao.

Perhaps Dancer’s greatest challenge was casting credible dancers for its key leads roles.  Again, fortune smiled with the discovery of the considerable acting chops of Chi Cao (currently Principal Dancer with the Birmingham Royal Ballet) and Chengwu Guo (a member of the Australian Ballet) as the adult and teen-aged Li, respectively.  Both prove to be charismatic performers, with Chengwu making a surprisingly strong impression, even with his limited screen time.  (Hopefully, they will both be allowed to return home, despite their participation in the film.)

Dancer also boasts two Twin Peaks alumns – including Kyle MacLachlan, making the most of a small supporting role as crafty immigration attorney Charles Foster.  It is Joan Chen who really delivers the film’s emotional punch though, as Li’s spirited mother Niang.  Even thoroughly glammed down for the role, she still remains a radiant beauty.

Dancer is a well-rounded, fully satisfying bio-picture.  The product of Australian filmmakers, it refreshingly refrains from kneejerk political cheap shots, even implying then Vice President Bush played an important role securing Li’s freedom.  It also vividly captures Li’s passion for dance, which is the fundamental cause of nearly every event that unfolds in the film.  Emotionally engaging and politically astute, Dancer opens this Friday (8/20) in select theaters nationwide.

Posted on August 18th, 2010 at 11:58am.

DocuWeeks LA: LFM Reviews My Perestroika & Summer Pasture

By Joe Bendel. Probably no division of the Academy Awards has more byzantine rules than the documentary wing.  Their mandated seven day theatrical runs in both New York and Los Angeles can be difficult hurdles for nonfiction filmmakers to clear.  However, every selection of the 2010 DocuWeeks will be officially Oscar eligible once they finish their week long runs at the ArcLight and IFC Film Centers.  As is seemingly the case with every documentary series, this year’s DocuWeeks is a mixed bag, but two films in particular offer intriguingly intimate glimpses into lives of ordinary individuals living a world away from the arthouse cinema scene.

Even though he was badly hung-over, he knew there was a national crisis.  Though the bleary-eyed Russian did not know at the time the hard-line Communist coup had deposed Mikhail Gorbachev, he saw that Swan Lake was the only program on television.  For some reason, the Soviets always broadcasted the Tchaikovsky ballet during periods of internal turmoil.  It is telling details like this that connect the personal to the grandly historical in Robin Hessman’s My Perestroika, which screened earlier this year at New Directors/New Films.

A Russophile in high school, Hessman was working for LENFILM, the Soviet film agency based in what was then Leningrad, at the time of the infamous coup.  Through her time working and studying in Russia, Hessman developed a keen appreciation for the stoic nobility of average Russian citizens, which is clearly reflected in Perestroika.  Using five former classmates as representative everymen, Hessman subjectively presents the last forty-some years of Russian and Soviet history through their reminiscences and home movies.

Yes, there is a certain nostalgia for their childhood years lived under the yoke of Soviet tyranny.  However, they are really wistful for their lost innocence rather than the supposed virtues of the Brezhnev era.  As becomes clear in their interviews, as the Perestroika generation came of age, it also became quickly disillusioned.

Still, not all of the film’s lead voices are doing badly.  An entrepreneur with a small chain of high-end men’s clothing stores, Andrei has done quite well for himself.  He is also the most vocal critic of the current Putin regime.  While none of the five have led exceptional lives, Hessman had the good fortune to find participants who had been somewhat in the vicinity of great events.  Indeed, the experiences of Perestroika’s subjects defy easy classification, at various times lending credence to wide array of political interpretations (though it is hard to find much in the film to justify any faith in Putin’s puppet government).

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Tibet is also changing drastically, which is exactly what China wants.  For instance, it has become increasingly difficult for Tibetans not fluent in Chinese to conduct business transactions.  Such are the challenges facing a young nomadic family in Tibet’s eastern Kham region as presented in Summer Pastures, an intimate new documentary from Lynn True and Nelson Walker (with co-director Tsering Perlo), also currently screening as part of DocuWeeks LA.

In many ways, Locho and Yama are much like any other parents you would find anywhere else on Earth.  Their greatest hope is for their daughter to have greater opportunities in her life than have been available for them.  However, their daily chores are far removed from those western audiences will be familiar with, including the daily spreading and drying of manure for fuel that starts Yama’s daily routine.  It is a hardscrabble life, but it is what they have always known.

Unfortunately, it is not clear whether the nomads’ way of life will be sustainable much longer.  Inflation constantly drives up the price of their supplies, while they seem to have less to show for their labors.  Adding further uncertainty, Yama suffers from a persistent heart ailment, yet she keeps working like an ox – in contrast to Locho, who often seems like an overgrown kid herding their livestock.

Even in their remote corner of Tibet, Locho and Yama feel the impact of great macro forces.  However, True and Walker focus their sites on their deeply personal family drama, (somewhat timidly avoiding the occupying Chinese elephant in the room).  Yet by conveying such a strong sense of the nomadic couple’s personalities and relationship dynamics, Pasture will have most viewers rooting for this family as the film unfolds.

Pasture forgoes filmmaker commentary, instead capturing the nomads’ lives unfiltered, in a style not incompatible with that of Digital Generation Chinese independent filmmakers.  Though it requires some patience, it is certainly rewarding to meet Yama and Locho, whose spirit and resiliency the filmmakers capture quite vividly.  Both Pasture and Perestroika are difficult films to pigeon hole, but they have more merit than most docs released this year.  They are currently screening in Los Angeles, as DocuWeeks continues at the ArcLight.

Posted on August 9th, 2010 at 9:32am.

Bollywood Courts Controversy: Tere Bin Laden

By Joe Bendel. “Banned in Pakistan” sounds like a heck of recommendation for a film. Yet, in the case of Abhishek Sharma’s Tere Bin Laden (a bit of wordplay roughly translating to “Without Bin Laden”) it is hard to understand why they bothered. A mildly amusing satire, Tere tweaks the American response to the September 11th terrorist attacks far more than its Al-Qaeda mastermind, but evidently the Pakistani authorities feared any comedic representation of Bin Laden would be provocative.  American audiences can judge for themselves today as Tere opens at select theaters nationwide (see listings here).

In a bit of a departure for Bollywood, Tere is set in Pakistan and stars the Pakistani popstar Ali Zafar as Ali Hassan, an aspiring journalist who dreams of making it big in America. Unfortunately, his departure is delayed by the 9-11 terrorist attack. When his flight finally leaves, his odd behavior (possible only in a slapstick comedy, given the obviously tense circumstances) is misinterpreted as a hijacking attempt. As a result, Hassan is barred from America for life.

Our young protagonist perseveres though, toiling away at a low rent news station, trying to raise cash for a new set of identity papers. Covering a rooster-crowing contest, Hassan spies a poultry breeder named Noora who is the spitting image of Bin Laden — okay, maybe that is a bit daring on the filmmaker’s part.

Peddling a fake bin Laden interview.

However, when the reporter bamboozles the eccentric Noora into making a counterfeit Bin Laden video, made up like his notorious double, the jokes really are not directed at Bin Laden, but primarily at his target -Hassan’s promised land of America. When the bogus tape hits the airwaves shortly thereafter, the American military naturally starts carpet-bombing Afghanistan out of sheer panic. Frankly, this is the sort of satire you can find in any number of American films. Of course, the Bollywood musical numbers are a different story, the best being Zafar’s mellow groover, “Bus Ek Soch.”

Ironically, the most endearing character of Tere is the likably goofy faux Bin Laden, played by Pradhuman Singh, who shows a flare for physical comedy and chicken wrangling. Zafar, who reportedly was once held for ransom by self-described Bin Laden supporters, is also reasonably engaging as Hassan. One can also understand why he might be gun-shy with satirical material that cuts too close to the bone.

The outrageous positions Bin Laden’s double finds himself in (chasing chickens with a grenade super-glued to his hand, for instance) may well help bring the mass murderer’s public image down to earth. If so, Tere could be a force for good. Still the Kumbaya ending, suggesting everyone can come together and work things out if America only reaches out to her enemies, is hardly an accurate reflection of the world as it is.

Ultimately, Tere plays it safe in choosing its targets. That it still found itself deemed “anti-Islam and anti-Pakistan,” with many censors apparently unable to distinguish between Bin Laden and a character clearly impersonating him within the context of the film, is probably more telling than anything in the film itself. For those intrigued by its backstory, Tere opens today (8/6) at the Big Manhattan (formerly ImaginAsian) Cinema for a one week run, with the possibility of extending, and in other theaters nationwide.

Posted on August 6th, 2010 at 3:09pm.

Voices from the Killing Fields: Enemies of the People

By Joe Bendel. Euphemisms can be terrible instruments of evil.  For instance, when former Khmer Rouge cadres speak of “solving problems” what they really refer to is the systematic torture and execution of roughly two million Cambodians, whose only crime was to be deemed insufficiently Communist.  Thet Sambath understands this all too well.  After losing his parents and brother to the Khmer Rouge reign of terror, he spent years interviewing former cadres to understand why they killed their countrymen.  His self-funded investigation ultimately resulted in Enemies of the People (trailer above), a truly newsworthy documentary co-directed by Rob Lemkin, which opens in New York this Friday and in Los Angeles next week.

A newspaper journalist in Phnom Penh, Sambath’s quiet, unassuming demeanor is perfectly suited to winning the confidences of his interview subjects.  However, he does not advertize his tragic family history, especially not with the big fish, Nuon Chea, a.k.a. Brother Number Two, the Khmer Rouge’s chief theoretician – second only to Pol Pot (Brother Number One).  For years, the largely silent Chea has maintained his ignorance of the Killing Fields, but Sambath wore down his reticence.  With Chea facing charges of war crimes and crimes against humanity, what he says on Sambath’s tapes is extraordinarily timely.

Depicts the ideologically-driven crimes of the Khmer Rouge.

Beyond its potential relevance in the Cambodian Tribunal, Enemies is highly significant as a pioneering Cambodian documentary inquiry into the Khmer Rouge’s crimes.  Providing historical context that will likely be instructive for western audiences as well, Sambath explains that the Khmer Rouge directly looked to China as their revolutionary inspiration.  Indeed, one can argue the Killing Fields were an indirect product of the Cultural Revolution.

The former low level cadres interviewed on camera also confirm their victims were brutalized and murdered out of ideological zeal.  They were capitalist or counter-revolutionary “problems” to “fix.”  The matter-of-factness of their videotaped statements is quite chilling, lending credence to Hannah Arendt’s concept of the banality of evil.  While some express remorse, decades after the fact, for the most part, it seems like Sambath is not tapping into feelings of guilt so much as a Dostoevskian compulsion to confess.  Obviously suffering from his own survivor’s guilt, Sambath also has his own stories to tell.  However, he appears to attain a measure of closure through his ambitious undercover research project.

In Enemies, Sambath puts to shame most western journalists who simply preen in front of cameras and regurgitate talking points.  At no small risk to himself, he set out to get the truth, succeeding rather spectacularly given his modest resources.  Frankly, the ignorance and misunderstanding of the Khmer Rouge borders on the criminal in the west, but Sambath and Lemkin bring their genocidal crimes into sharp focus.  Yes, the American bombings are mentioned in Enemies, but only briefly – never suggesting they excuse or rationalize the crimes of the Khmer Rouge in any way.  Truly, Sambath understands who the killers really are, and he got them on tape.  Thoughtful and legitimately bold, it opens this Friday (7/30) in New York at the Quad and next Friday (8/6) in Los Angeles at Laemmle’s Music Hall, Beverly Hills.

Posted on July 30th, 2010 at 10:36am.

Winning the Cold War in L’Affaire Farewell

David Soul (left) with Fred Ward as Ronald Reagan in "Farewell."

By Joe Bendel. Instead of the man who knew too much, he was the spy who knew everything.  Codenamed “Farewell” by the French, Colonel Vladimir Vetrov was charged with reviewing the intelligence the KGB gathered on the free world—every speck of it, including the extent to which each western intelligence agency had been compromised.  He also knew the Soviet government had failed to live up to its promises.  President Ronald Reagan called the resulting L’Affaire Farewell: “one of the most important espionage cases of the 20th century.”  It also inspired Christian Carion’s espionage drama Farewell (trailer below), which opens in Los Angeles and New York this Friday night.

Like the real-life Vetrov on whom he is based, Colonel Grigoriev was once stationed in Paris, where he rebuffed the advances of the French and American intelligence services.  However, by 1981, the Colonel had come to the conclusion the Soviet Union needed drastic reform – so he approached the DST, the French equivalent of the FBI (the only western intelligence agency the KGB had not bothered to infiltrate) through Pierre, a French businessman with no formal involvement in the world of espionage.

Out of his element, Pierre wants to extricate himself from the affair as soon as possible, but Grigoriev insists on dealing only with him, considering the professionals untrustworthy.  Partly in recognition of the value of Grigoriev’s intel and partly out of a sense of budding friendship, Pierre becomes the Colonel’s amateur handler, passing a wealth of information on to the DST.

While Pierre and Grigoriev meet in parks and train stations, another alliance in being forged between President Reagan and Mitterrand, France’s newly elected socialist prime minister.  The President is less than thrilled at the prospect of Communist ministers in the new French cabinet, but Mitterrand has an olive branch to offer: “Farewell.”

Farewell’s portrayal of these influential world leaders is quite fascinating and surprisingly even-handed.  Philippe Magnan’s Mitterrand is intelligent but aloof, coming across like more than a bit of a cold fish.  Refreshingly, Pres. Reagan is not depicted as a doddering bumbler, but as an engaged and commanding leader.  Yes, there are scenes of Reagan using classic film as a metaphor with his National Security Advisor (played by an almost unrecognizable David Soul), but never in way that calls his judgment into question.

Yet, there is something about Reagan’s distinct mannerisms that are hard to emulate without lapsing into caricature.  American actor Fred Ward takes a good shot, but he still sounds more like a Saturday Night Live impersonation than a real flesh and blood individual.  Frankly, Ronald Reagan remains such a commanding presence in the national consciousness it makes any dramatic representation problematic.

Not too friendly: Vselovod Shilovsky as Gorbachev in "Farewell."

Fortunately, Farewell’s primary leads are uniformly excellent.  Though he looks appropriately rumpled, Emir Kusturica plays Grigoriev sharp as a tack, keenly aware of his own personal contradictions.  As Pierre, Guillaume Canet’s performance is also smart and understated, avoiding the headshaking “what-did-I-get-myself-into” histrionics.  As a result, viewers believe the unqualified trust Grigoriev places in him.

Technically well produced, cinematographer Walther Vanden Ende and designer Jean-Michel Simonet effectively capture the oppressive drabness of the Brezhnev era.  Yet ideologically, Farewell resists easy classification.  While it certainly conveys the repressive and corrupt nature of Soviet Communism, the film sometimes suggests a John Le Carre-like equivalency, at least between the rival spy masters.  However, the shrewd conclusion again challenges the audience’s conceptions of faith and loyalty, within the context of the preceding “L’Affaire Farewell.”

Considering how long it has been since a brainy spy film sneaked into theaters, Farewell is quite welcome indeed.  Featuring two compelling lead performances and a meaty story that intrigues on several levels, it is an engrossing film.  It also might be the fairest shake Pres. Reagan has gotten on screen since his inauguration in 1981, ironically coming by way of France.  Definitely recommended, Farewell opens Friday (7/23) in both Los Angeles and New York, expanding to other cities the following week.

Posted on July 20th, 2010 at 9:13am.

Mao’s Last Dancer + Asian-American Film Fest

By Joe Bendel. The Chinese government is very protective of its international image.  That is why it is so remarkable Bruce Beresford’s Mao’s Last Dancer was allowed to film there.  [LFM Co-Editor Govindini Murty has covered Mao’s Last Dancer previously in-depth here.]  Evidently, the government “suggested” some revisions to the script once shooting was underway, but according to the press notes, the Australian director categorically disregarded them, even though it jeopardized the entire production.  The centerpiece film of the upcoming Asian American International Film Festival, Dancer is one of several selections that will interest China watchers when the fest kicks off tomorrow night in New York.

Full reviews of Dancer are embargoed until the week of its theatrical release, but expect to hear terms like “crowd pleasing” after its festival screening this Saturday.  The story of ballet dancer Cunxin Li’s defection to America, Dancer depicts the Cultural Revolution as a period when art was debased by ideology.  Madame Mao herself makes an appearance, despite “requests” to the contrary from the Chinese government.  Offering plenty to discuss, look forward to a proper review of Beresford’s film here at Libertas in the near future.

From "Mao's Last Dancer."

Ballet also figures tangentially in Taipei 24H, an anthology film commissioned by Taiwanese Public Television that captures vignettes of life throughout the capitol city during one average but eventful day.  Appropriately, 24H saves its deepest and most accomplished film for last—4:00 AM to be exact.

Featuring renowned Taiwanese auteur Tsai Ming-liang, directed – in a reversal of roles – by his cinematic alter-ego, actor Kang-sheng Lee, Remembrance is deceptively simple. Having sold her business, the proprietress of a late night coffee shop is joined by a regular customer for a final cup of java and to watch a documentary on Luo Man-fei, a Taiwanese ballerina who died of lung cancer – but whose celebrated performance of choreography, shaped by the experiences of Tiananmen Square survivors, still has the power to move the night owls decades later.  Brief but elegant, Remembrance celebrates quiet moments of beauty, and those who inspire them.

Once, rural peasants represented an ideologically privileged class in China.  Today, they mostly lead hardscrabble lives of strife and want, particularly when compared to urban professionals.  It is an iniquity frequently captured by the Digital-Generation of independent Chinese directors, as well as two American-based filmmakers whose stylistically compatible shorts set in China will also screen during AAIFF ‘10.

D-Generation documentaries represent with scrupulous accuracy the living conditions of the unfortunates who exist on the margins of Chinese society.  However, their length and studiously languid aesthetics can try the patience of some audiences.  In contrast, Tani Ikeda’s documentary short Turn of the Harvest is a manageable twelve minutes, but still gives viewers an honest, tactile sense of its subjects’ lives.

A late middle-aged couple works their wheat field, quietly joking between themselves.  The man has a broken finger he has not treated for three weeks.  Yet, outwardly they seem happy.  However, as Ikeda interviews his wife, it becomes clear their relationship is not all it might appear.  Especially painful for her was a decision to relinquish one of the twins she gave birth to, out of economic necessity.  Surprisingly, they choose to give up their son, because boys cost more to raise.

Luo Qian in Chloe Zhao's "Daughters."

Of course, boys tend to be preferred over girls, which accounts for the looming shortage of marriageable women under China’s restrictive family planning.  Take for instance the family of fourteen year year-old Maple in Chloé Zhao’s narrative short Daughters. With a coveted baby boy on the way, her parents suddenly have one daughter too many.  Coldly pragmatic, they see only two options.  Either they foist off her sweet tempered young sister on a distant family member, or they arrange her marriage to a disturbingly old man.  Not surprisingly, such news causes confusion and resentment for the preteen.

Daughters is nine minutes of focused heartbreak, featuring a devastating performance from young Luo Qian as Maple.  Though brief, it is undeniably assured filmmaking, all the more impressive considering it was the NYU alumnus’ second year film.

AAIFF’s centerpiece, Dancer, screens this Saturday (7/17), in advance of its late August opening.  Well worth seeing for Remembrance alone, Taipei 23H screens on Sunday (7/18).  Daughters screens as part of AAIFF’s Oh Family, Where Art Thou? block of shorts this Sunday, while Harvest screens the next day as part of the Untold Stories shorts program.

Posted on July 15th, 2010 at 11:16am.