Category: Movie Reviews

Mad Men Season Four, Episode 10: “Hands and Knees”

By Jennifer Baldwin. Mad Men is not what one would call a “plot heavy” show. It’s more like a series of character studies — an exercise in atmosphere and style — and less a wham-bang, action-packed thrill ride. But every few episodes a season, Mad Men lets loose and the stuff really hits the fan. Secrets are revealed! Violence breaks out! Babies are born! Geopolitical events cause everyone to freak out!

Episode 10, “Hand and Knees,” is one of those “plot heavy” episodes. And yet, while everything seemed to go down in this one, nothing really came of it in the end (or at least, nothing yet…).

Lane got whacked with a cane by his stern father, so he’s going back to England. But the ramifications of this are still unclear. Joan, presumably, had Roger’s baby aborted (though there was debate at my viewing party over whether she went through with the procedure or not). But on the surface, Joan seems to have gone back to status quo.

Roger and Lee.

In probably the biggest plot development of the episode, Lee Garner Jr. told Roger that Lucky Strike is moving to a new agency, but again the effects of this shake-up are yet to be felt, since Roger hides the news from the other SCDP partners.

Even Don’s storyline, in the end, amounted to nothing (for now).

Everyone was on their hands and knees — some literally, like Don vomiting in his bathroom or Lane after the cane-thwacking, while others only figuratively, like Roger, pleading with Lee to give SCDP one last chance with Lucky Strike — but everywhere, these characters were falling down, weakened, reduced to the level of servants and criminals. And yet, all of these “hands and knees” moments happened in private — in those secret, almost clandestine moments between intimates that no outsider is privileged to see. I think this calls back to the theme in Episode 7 — that issue of intimacy, of and what it means to know another person — only this time we’re seeing the truly dark side of things, those relationships and aspects of the characters that are too horrible to let escape beyond the confines of an apartment living room or a private booth in a restaurant.

Joan and Roger.

Lane’s cruel humiliation at the hands of his father; Don’s complete breakdown at the thought of being arrested by the feds; Roger’s final failure as a business man with Lee Jr.; Joan’s face-saving lie in the abortion doctor’s office — all of these moments of humiliation are kept secret by the characters involved, none of them willing to let others know the depths of their shame and failure. In fact, when Lane reveals the secret of his relationship with Toni to his father, he’s “rewarded” with violence. By the end, in that last scene with the partners, Lane has learned to hold his tongue and keep his private vulnerabilities to himself.

Even Don is still burdened by secrets, still wearing the mask. He tells Faye the truth about his identity — she’s been granted special intimacy — but Don’s not ready to reveal himself to the world. He was on his hands and knees for most of the episode, but he’s not ready to stay there.

The theme of the episode couldn’t have been more obvious thanks to the music selection over the closing credits: an instrumental version of Lennon and McCartney’s “Do You Want to Know a Secret.” Everyone’s got secrets; everyone’s hoping they won’t get found out. But the meaning doesn’t stop there. A closer look at the lyrics reveals a more sinister tone:

Listen. Do you want to know a secret?
I promise not to tell.

There’s a slyness to this lyric, an implication that secrets will be told, it’s only a matter of time. The promise not to tell is empty. Who will be betrayed?

Closer. Let me whisper in your ear.
Say the words you long to hear.

Pete.

This suggests that the words the characters long to hear are not the words they need to hear. Don hears Faye say everything will be alright, he gets reassurances from Pete that everything’s been taken care of at the Department of Defense, but are these just empty words? Can the secret go away this easily?

The episode ends with a whimper and not a bang; most secrets stay hidden. But I have a feeling these secrets won’t last more than a week or two. Nobody knows much for now, but I get the feeling things are about to explode, much like the crowds at Shea Stadium when the Beatles took the stage. After all, there are only three episodes left.

Posted on September 30th, 2010 at 6:10pm.

LFM Review: Silent Souls

By Joe Bendel. Russia might not be the most hospitable of homes for its ethnic minorities, but the simple forces of time and assimilation are far more responsible for the waning cultural identity and appreciation of the Merja Russians, ethnic cousins of the Finns. However, one Merjan writer’s efforts to preserve his cultural heritage takes him on a fateful road trip with his grieving boss in Aleksei Fedorchenko’s Silent Souls, which just screened at The New York Film Festival.

Though much traditional Merjan culture has faded from everyday memory, Miron knows his friend Aist is fully versed in their people’s traditional funereal rituals. The son of a well regarded Merja poet-laborer, Aist researches and records nearly forgotten Merjan lore as a private passion. More Nordic than Slavic, Aist is not a talkative man, but he will provide Silent’s narration. Indeed the rough hewn character of his (or actor Igor Sergeyev’s) voice makes him one of the most effective narrators heard on film in recent memory, even when subtitled.

From Aleksei Fedorchenko's "Silent Souls."

Miron and Aist will drive across the frozen west central Russian landscape to Lake Nero, the site of his honeymoon with his much younger, yet now tragically dearly departed wife Tanya. There they will build her funeral pyre in much the same manner the Norsemen did millennia ago. For company, they have themselves, their memories, and two caged buntings Aist recently purchased. Those birds are not just for show. Like everything else in Silent they might appear to be a causal impulse buy, but their significance will become apparent later.

Though relatively unheralded among NYFF selections, Silent is one of the strongest films of the festival. Elegiac in multiple ways, it is a powerful meditation on the death of an individual and the protracted demise of a culture, without ever becoming heavy-handed. While it is deliberately paced, it actually gets someplace, both geographically and cinematically.

Throughout Fedorchenko displays a deft touch. Though his symbolism is inescapable, it is always accessible rather than pretentious or obtuse. While in lesser hands, Silent’s ending might have been problematic, Fedorchenko’s methodical groundwork makes it feel logical and fitting, without outright telegraphing it clumsily. Fedorchenko and cinematographer Mikhail Krichman also take full advantage of the evocative landscape, presenting some striking winter vistas.

Whether it is engaging in salty talk with Miron or ruminating on what it means to be Merjan, Sergeyev brings a remarkable naturalness and genuine gravitas to the film as the protagonist-narrator. It is the sort of accomplished work that is often unfairly overlooked due to its lack of affectation.

Though it requires viewers’ full attention, there is great depth beneath Silent’s austerely chilly surface. An excellent film featuring a great lead performance, it is one of the unexpected highlights of the 2010 NYFF.  It screened Tuesday (9/28) at the Walter Reade Theater.

Posted on September 29th, 2010 at 9:08am.

LFM Review: Martin Scorsese’s Letter to Elia

Marlon Brando, in Elia Kazan's iconic "On the Waterfront."

By Joe Bendel. No director portrayed the immigrant experience or the struggles of the common man with greater sensitivity than Elia Kazan – but to this day, he remains widely reviled on the left. Even a figure of Martin Scorsese’s stature took heat for presenting Kazan a lifetime achievement Oscar at the 71st Academy Awards. Yet for Scorsese, Kazan’s influence extended far beyond his early stylistic debt to the great filmmaker. Scorsese explains Kazan’s significance both to cinematic history in general and himself personally in Letter to Elia, an hour-long documentary he co-directed with Kent Jones, which screened with Kazan’s epic America, America at the 48th New York Film Festival.

Director Elia Kazan.

Regardless of political controversies, Kazan’s reputation as an actor’s director is without peer. A co-founder of the Actor’s Studio, Kazan began his career on the boards before finding his calling as a theater director. Letter reminds us that it was Kazan who helmed the Broadway premieres of Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire and Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman. Of course, he would revisit Streetcar on film with original cast-member and frequent collaborator Marlon Brando, one of several legitimate masterpieces he crafted. However, for Scorsese, East of Eden stands out first and foremost in his consciousness, claiming to have “stalked” the film through second-run cinemas as a boy.

Looking straight into the camera, Scorsese forcefully and lucidly describes Kazan’s contributions to stage and screen, with the help of generous clips from the director’s filmography. While Eden and the best picture nominee America, America capture the most screen time, Scorsese and Jones duly include Kazan’s arguably single most famous scene, Brando’s “could have been a contender” speech from On the Waterfront, the classic tale of union corruption.

In contrast, they are clearly uncomfortable addressing Kazan’s testimony to the HUAC committee. Kazan was a former Communist who became disillusioned after the Stalin-Hitler (Molotov-Ribbentrop) non-aggression pact came to light. Considering Communism a severely flawed ideology, Kazan defended his decision in an op-ed piece, but Scorsese and Jones largely ignore his motivations, preferring to gloss over the incident with vague language of “difficult choices,” which does little to serve Kazan’s memory.

Of course, Scorsese is on solid ground when celebrating movie history. Letter is definitely an effective commercial for Kazan’s rich body of work, which really speaks for itself throughout the documentary. However, if any of his masterworks is under-represented, it would be Gentleman’s Agreement, a powerful examination of anti-Semitism that won Kazan his first Oscar.

Truly, Kazan is due for a critical renaissance, unblinkered by partisan score-settling. Letter is a well intentioned, mostly well executed effort to spur just that. Due to be included in a forthcoming Kazan boxset, Scorsese and Jones’ film screened yesterday (9/27) with a rare big screen presentation of America, America at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of the 2010 NYFF.

Posted on September 28th, 2010 at 9:04am.

LFM Review: You Again

By Patricia Ducey. Gone with the Wind it’s not. Heck, it’s not even My Best Friend’s Wedding. But You Again is a pleasant enough production from Disney’s Touchstone Pictures, with some truly funny moments – and a lot of real heart. It’s the kind of family movie that the broadcast networks used to make before TV was handed over to reality show contestants and serial killers. You Again is a chick flick perfect for a tween or teen (but maybe not the boys), or anyone who can remember the sting of high school bullies.

Director Andy Frickman casts his New York stage pal Kristen Bell as Marni, an ugly duckling outsider in high school who has grown into a successful and beautiful career woman. She handles her PR firm duties with grace and aplomb. But her hard won self-confidence starts to crumble when her Mom announces that Marni’s beloved brother Will (James Wolk) is to marry, and the bride-to-be is none other than Marni’s high school nemesis, Joanna (Odette Yustman). Joanna was the head cheerleader, the gorgeous Alpha Girl, who led the torment against acne-ridden dweeb Marni. When the wary Marni returns home for the wedding weekend, however, she finds a new Joanna -someone who may or may not remember her at all, and who may or may not have morphed into an angel. Soon Joanna reveals the cause of her life change: she lost both of her parents in a car crash, and decided to dedicate the rest of her life to something that would make them proud.

Mom Gail (Jamie Lee Curtis) and father (Victor Garber) and even the family pooch clearly adore Joanna, but Marni can’t help herself; her jealousy resurfaces once again. She tries to accept the new Joanna, but Marni still hasn’t tamed her inner loser. Ever suspicious, she eventually uncovers some evidence to justify some sweet, sweet revenge. We watch as Marni regresses, physically and emotionally, back to her high school days as her resentment overwhelms her mature career woman persona.

Kristen Bell and Odette Yustman in "You Again."

In that one improbable coincidence allowed any plot line, Joanna’s only surviving relative, Aunt Mona (Sigourney Weaver), arrives for the wedding weekend and turns out to be none other than Gail’s former high school nemesis. Gail soon learns that giving advice about jealousy is a lot easier than living it. So, on two levels, all these women will have to confront the green eyed-monsters still lurking in their hearts if they are to survive as a family. You Again is otherwise full of pratfalls and silliness, as well as drama, as it meanders toward the climactic rehearsal dinner.

You Again stands in stark contrast to the summer romantic comedy hit Easy A, which the critics loved, in that it doesn’t despise its audience. The family in You Again loves, and likes, each other. They’re human, though, and fall victim to their human foibles. These characters are surprised and disheartened by their own weaknesses – and do their best to conquer them. Sometimes they do make old grudges right, and the movie actually tells you why this is important. So if your daughter or niece wants to see a movie, steer her to You Again – not Easy A.

I chuckled when I checked the reviews of You Again—90% of the critics hated it, so I figured I would like it. The movie been called trite and sit-com-ish – and in some ways, that’s true. Marni’s family is intact, affectionate, and practically snark-free. Characters do tussle and fall into swimming pools. More than once. [By the way, Odette Yustman might just give Megan Fox a run for her money with her brunette good looks and mad rapping skills. Betty White also handles the Grandma Bunny duties well—and keep your eyes peeled for a few other cameos by ‘80s stars.] The dreaded patriarchy rears its head when Dad finally lays down the law and tells his squabbling women “enough.”  Meh. I liked it. It may seem trite to jaded movie critics – but judging from the laughter in my theater, audiences liked it too.

Posted on September 27th, 2010 at 7:19am.

Musical Mission – 100 Voices: A Journey Home

By Joe Bendel. There were more righteous gentiles from Poland than any other country. No strangers to suffering, three million Poles also died under National Socialism, while the Polish resistance forces were the only organized underground with a division specifically dedicated to saving Jewish lives. Yet, the Nazis were grimly successful cleaving apart Polish and Jewish culture, though they had been closely intertwined for centuries. In an effort to mend that breach, a group of 72 cantors made an emotional tour of Poland last June, fortuitously captured in Danny Gold and Matthew Asner’s documentary 100 Voices: A Journey Home, which began a limited engagement in New York and Los Angeles last Wednesday, following a special nationwide one-night event-screening this past Tuesday.

Tuesday’s special screening was presented under the auspices of NCM Fathom, the in-theater event specialists, which is particularly apt considering their specialty simulcasting opera. Indeed, there is a strong affinity between opera and the cantorial music of Voices. In fact, the father of two tour participants probably saved his life during the Holocaust by convincing the Nazis he was an opera singer rather than a cantor. While their music is liturgical, most cantors’ delivery is expressive and dramatic, bearing a strong stylistic resemblance to full-voiced opera singing.

After providing viewers an essential grounding in cantorial music and great cantors past (including the jazz-influenced Moishe Oysher), Voices follows the cantors on their eventful tour, organized by the forceful Cantor Nathan Lam of the Stephen S. Wise Temple in Los Angeles. Adding additional tragic significance, Polish President Lech Kaczyński was in attendance for their tour-opening command performance at Warsaw’s National Opera House mere weeks before his fatal plane-crash. It was a heavy program featuring an original composition penned by Charles Fox (probably best known for “Killing Me Softly”) inspired by Pope John Paul II’s simple prayer left at the Western Wall.

Yet, the next performances were probably even more personally moving for the cantors, including memorial performances at Warsaw’s only surviving synagogue and at the gates of the Auschwitz concentration camp. However, the tour ended on a hopefully note, culminating with an open-air concert at the Krakow Jewish Cultural Festival, organized by the Catholic Janusz Makuch. Embracing the term “Shabbos goy” Makuch has worked to foster an appreciation of Poland’s Jewish heritage since 1988 (an effort greatly aided by the fall of Communism in 1989).

While the music of Voices may not be to all tastes, precisely for its operatic quality, there is no denying its power. Beautifully recorded and presented by directors Gold and Asner with cinematographers Jeff Alred and Anthony Melfi, it should lead to a deeper and wider appreciative of cantorial music, certainly outside Judaism and perhaps within the faith as well.

Indeed, Cantor Lam’s project was notable not just for the size of the tour, but the noble intent.  Recently, many religious leaders have acted provocatively, even insensitively, while claiming the mantle of intolerance (yes, I definitely mean the organizers of the World Trade Center mosque here). However, the Voices tour really was undertaken in the spirit of tolerance, seeking to strengthen ties and understanding between faiths and people. A well intentioned film executed with grace and dignity, Voices deserves an audience well past Oscar season. It plays in select theaters in New York and Los Angeles through September 28th.

Posted on September 26th, 2010 at 12:08m.

Lessons in Darkness

Albert Speer's proposed "Volkshalle" for the Nazi capitol.

By David Ross. Nazism was history’s most despicable moral perversion and criminal conspiracy, but too often the examination of Nazism goes no farther than moral condemnation. This posture is perfectly understandable, but it does nothing to further the understanding of Nazism as a philosophy and historical development. The difficult thing is temporarily to relax the impulse to condemn and to bring a degree of detachment to the analysis of Nazism as a system of thought. As one who frequently teaches literary modernism – Yeats, Eliot, Pound, Lawrence, Wyndham Lewis – I must constantly address a certain kind of romantic conservatism, and this naturally raises questions about fascism and Nazism. I tell my students something like this: “Its not enough to call Nazism evil, though certainly it is evil. You have to consider the nature and logic of its evil. You have to engage its ideas.” At this point, I usually insert that I am myself Jewish, which lowers eyebrows somewhat. Two deeply thoughtful documentaries, one German, one American, attempt just this kind of work and make for important lessons in the history ideas.

Peter Cohen’s The Architecture of Doom (1991) examines Nazi aesthetic theory and the Nazi obsession with art generally. Nazi artistic taste (a mélange of alpine-oriented romanticism and grandiose neo-classicism) was often kitschy and crass, but the Nazi cult of beauty was remarkably passionate and central. Hitler began as an artist, as everybody knows, but it’s less well known that he remained the most extraordinarily obsessed aesthete, buying and stealing works of art by the thousands and involving himself at every level with what may have been his greatest dream: the architectural recreation of Germany on a scale of classical magnificence to rival ancient Rome. The film’s crucial recognition is that Nazism’s aesthetic program partially or even largely drove its political and military program. Nazism did not conceive its program of conquest as an end in itself, but as a means of implementing the cultural and aesthetic renaissance that was Hitler’s chief fantasy. Likewise, the film clarifies the connection between Nazism’s aesthetic program and its campaign of hygiene, eugenics, euthanasia and genocide. Adulating the classical ideal suggested by the sculpture of antiquity, the Nazis conceived their murderous activities as a program of ‘beautification’ in the literal sense. The goal, according to Cohen’s film, was less to create a pure race than a physically beautiful race. The Nazis considered racial purity an indispensible basis of this beauty, but they did not necessarily consider this purity an end in itself.

From Leni Riefenstahl's "Olympia" (1936).

This aestheticism does not in the least mitigate the Nazis’ vast crimes, but it does force us to move beyond the reassuring notion that Hitler was merely a maniacal sadist, a kind of Jeffrey Dahmer with a propaganda machine and vast army at his disposal. The scarier proposition is that aesthetic ideals we ourselves may share, or at least not entirely deplore, were mixed up in the vile stew of Nazism, and that ‘beauty’ itself may become a dangerous absolutism. Is our own culture implicated in this dynamic? Obviously we are not about to launch a racial genocide, but our popular culture may want to rethink its own extraordinary emphasis on physical perfection. Though this emphasis is not likely to lead to a renewal of the gas chambers, it may someday lead to a program of genetic selection and manipulation of the kind envisioned by a film like Gattaca. Mass-murdering the living is far worse than manipulating the unborn, but both programs share the dangerous premise that human beings are fundamentally stone to be carved, clay to be shaped. In this respect, The Architecture of Doom should give us pause.

Stephen Hicks’ Nietzsche and the Nazis (2006) delivers a whopping 166 minutes of philosophical disquisition in the attempt to explain the nature and impetus of Nazism. Unlike the graceful cinematic art of The Architecture of Doom, Nietzsche and the Nazis has the feel of a college lecture filmed on the cheap. It cuts between still photographs and Hicks himself speaking against a variety of nondescript backdrops, while the text itself is at best workmanlike. And yet Hicks, a philosopher at Rockford College in Illinois and author of a book likewise titled Nietzsche and the Nazis (2006), makes a lucid and thoroughly intelligent case that Nazism was not a function of economic conditions or social psychology or personal pathology – the usual notions – but of certain strands in the history of philosophy, and that it enacted ideas that were deeply embedded in the German culture and the German philosophic tradition. Hicks mentions Hegel, Fichte, and Marx, but gives primacy to Nietzsche, whom Hitler revered. Continue reading Lessons in Darkness