Category: Documentary

LFM Reviews Electric Boogaloo: the Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films

By Joe Bendel. They were decades ahead of the curve, making profitable films about terrorism long before it became an overriding concern for Americans. Of course, Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus happened to be Israeli, so they understood how dangerous the world could be. Unfortunately, they were not as canny judging the American marketplace with the releases that followed Invasion U.S.A. and The Delta Force. Mark Astley compiles a breezy oral history of their rise and fall in Electric Boogaloo: the Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films, which opens this year’s 2015 Film Comment Selects.

Yes, Hilla Medalia’s Cannon doc The Go-Go Boys just played the New York Jewish Film Festival, but there is always room for more Cannon. Reportedly, Go-Go is considered the B-movie moguls pre-emptive attempt to tell their side of the story. Hartley’s film even acknowledges the competition, comparing it to the dueling lambada films the former partners rushed to the marketplace after their contentious split. While Medalia spends more time on their early days in Israel, Hartley delves further into the early history of Cannon before Golan and Globus acquired it to serve as their Hollywood beachhead.

Plenty of the executives, writers, and directors associated with Cannon fondly remember the duo’s eccentricities, but there is not a lot of nostalgia coming from Frank Yablans, the former MGM studio head, who was contractually obligated to distribute their mid-1980s output. Hartley, who previously documented the Australian exploitation cinema of the 1970s and 1980s in Not Quite Hollywood and surveyed the low budget foreign and domestic action movies filmed in the Philippines with Machete Maidens Unleashed, not surprisingly shows an affinity for the nuttier movies in their filmography, like the notoriously spaced out futuristic rock opera The Apple and Tobe Hooper’s sci-fi grand guignol, Lifeforce.

Of course, it was their ill-conceived bids for Hollywood blockbuster respectability with the peacenik Superman IV and the Sylvester Stallone arm-wrestling epic Over the Top that would be their undoing. Frankly, it seems they never really understood their true comparative advantage: action cinema. Cannon really did take Chuck Norris to the next level and they substantially prolonged Charles Bronson’s career. They also discovered a Belgian waiter named Jean-Claude Van Damme. Unfortunately, they never really figured out what to do with their potential breakout star Michael Dudikoff, beyond the completely awesome American Ninja franchise and never recognized the untapped star-power of frequent supporting player Steve James (who frustratingly goes unmentioned again, after being overlooked by The Go-Go Boys).

Hartley marries up generous helpings of off-the-wall clips with some hilarious commentary (it is especially nice to see Catherine Mary Stewart remembering The Apple with self-deprecating humor). However, some of his talky head witnesses suggest some of the Hollywood resentment of Golan and Globus was a dark product of anti-Israeli, anti-immigrant sentiments, which is a place Medalia’s film never treads. Boogaloo (taking its title from their ill-advised break-dancing sequel) also gives the almost-moguls credit for successfully backing a number legit art films, but it is less interested in this side of their business than Go-Go Boys.

Go watch The Delta Force (with Chuck Norris, Lee Marvin, and the late Steve James) and try to pretend it doesn’t hold up today. The best of Cannon really defined the 1980s. Even after two documentaries, the full importance of those action movies still has not been fully explored. For instance, James may well be the first African American cult actor whose fan-base at the height of his productivity was nearly entirely white (and probably right-of-center). That seems culturally significant, but nobody wants to pick up on it. Regardless, Electric Boogaloo delivers plenty of entertaining nostalgia and attitude. Recommended for genre fans, it kicks off the 2015 edition of Film Comment Selects this Friday (2/20), at the Walter Reade Theater.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on February 16th, 2015 at 11:02am.

LFM Reviews 6 Desires: D.H. Lawrence and Sardinia @ The 2015 Sundance Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. There was a time when D.H. Lawrence’s travel writings were his best received work. Even before his sexually charged novels belatedly achieved widespread critical acceptance, Lawrence’s nonfiction did more than their share to promote Italian tourism. Over ninety years after its initial publication, his Sea and Sardinia continues to lure visitors from the UK to the Mediterranean isle. In this case it is Northern Irish documentarian Mark Cousins and his small intrepid crew, who will retrace the old man’s footsteps in the docu-essay-travelogue 6 Desires: D.H. Lawrence and Sardinia, which screened during the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

Clearly, this will be a very personal and impressionist journey, considering Cousins starts his voiceovers by asking Lawrence (presumably in spirit) if he can call him Bert. At this point, the audience can envision the novelist looking down from somewhere, chillily replying: “that’s Mr. Lawrence to you.” Nevertheless, Cousins maintains the intimate, but one-sided dialogue, revisiting the sites from the book, but informing the film’s visits with their full historical and cultural context.

This will never be a breakout Sundance documentary hit like Searching for Sugarman, but it is pleasant enough for a while. Despite his libertine reputation, Cousins’ portrait emphasizes Lawrence’s conservative nature, including his categorical rejection of socialism and his contention feminism would largely emasculate males into what we would now call metrosexuals. Along the way, he offers plenty of tips for prospective tourists. The hearty Lawrence multi-course menu offered at one rustic restaurant sounds like it might be worth the trip by itself.

From "6 Desires: D.H. Lawrence and Sardinia."

Strangely though, the film loses focus when Cousins hands over the third act narrating duties to a woman, for gender representational reasons Lawrence probably would have abhorred. It is sort of interesting to hear her contrast Lawrence with Grazia Deledda, Italy’s female proletarian Nobel Prize winner for literature, but the vague yet unmistakable implication he helped contribute to the Holocaust because he never criticized Italian fascists in-print is so excessive, it jeopardizes the entire film’s credibility. As points of reference, Sea and Sardinia was published in 1921 and Lawrence died in 1930, so please, get serious.

Frankly, 6 Desires is often doing odd little things to undercut itself. Many times, when Cousins has a lovely vista in his frame, he ruins it by sticking his arm out, selfie style, with a cheap laminated photo or a plastic overlay frame. These just look bad on-screen.

When the film actually focuses on its ostensive subject, it offers some intriguing insights that might lead to viewers to reappraise Lawrence and his work. To jolt everyone awake, Cousins also includes clips from Ken Russell’s adaptation of Women in Love, so you know what that means: Oliver Reed, full frontal. Unfortunately, this is about the time the film starts to founder. It has its moments, but 6 Desires really ought to have been chopped down to an hour and packaged specifically for television. Regardless, it will likely find more festival play following its screenings at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, thanks to the filmmakers’ reputation, but it is strictly for Lawrence and Cousins completists.

LFM GRADE: C

Posted on February 9th, 2015 at 8:57pm.

LFM Reviews Concrete Love @ The 2015 Slamdance Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. Pritzker Prize winner Gottfried Böhm and his three architect sons might be the world’s preeminent modernists, but the function of many of their buildings is to harken back to the past. With churches, mosques, World War II memorials, and an Egyptology museum to their collective credit, the Böhms have built, but they find themselves at a personal and professional crossroads in Maurizius Staerkle Drux’s documentary, Concrete Love: the Böhm Family, which screened during the 2015 Slamdance Film Festival in Park City.

As the only German Pritzker laureate, Gottfried Böhm is the unquestioned head of the clan and of their family practice. His overwhelmingly dominant stature leads to issues and tensions within the family unit, particularly with respect to his wife Elisabeth. She was once a promising junior architect as well, but she permanently deferred her career to raise their children. She has long suffered from dementia when Drux starts observing the family, but she soon succumbs to age and infirmity.

Despite her failing health, the Böhm sons miss their mother’s stabilizing influence. Resentments of the patriarch start to become more pronounced, especially as the sons face their own particular professional challenges. Stephan is determined to get a toehold in the exploding Chinese market, even though he is a bit put off to learn architects are largely considered on par with contractors and workmen in the People’s Republic (arguably, a rare expression of egalitarianism in the increasingly stratified nation). Meanwhile, Paul Böhm is growing exasperated with the budget cuts and aesthetically dubious demands imposed on him by the strange network of patrons behind his mega-mosque project. Believe it or not, we sort of get the sense he is being set up to be some kind of scapegoat.

From "Concrete Love."

At least Peter Böhm sort of gets the last laugh at the opening of the Museum of Egyptian Art he designed. He had clashed with his father over its deceptively simple, boxy layout. Yet, once Drux takes his cameras inside, we get a sense of how its imposing massiveness evokes the great monumental structures of ancient Egypt and how the surprisingly airy open spaces serve the exhibitions. It really has a cool sense of place.

Of course, the elder Böhm has plenty of striking buildings to his credit as well. Indeed, seeing the family’s greatest hits is one of the best parts of Concrete. To his credit, Drux has a good eye for both architecture and familial drama. In a case of good news-bad news, his approach is probably too detached to feel voyeuristic or intrusive. As a result though, the pace can be a bit leisurely at times, but the film is clearly intended for a cultured audience with a sustainable attention span. Respectfully recommended for those interested in post-war architecture, Concrete Love will likely screen at many art-focused and German language festivals over the coming year, following its North American premiere at this year’s Slamdance Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on February 6th, 2015 at 12:33pm.

LFM Reviews Station to Station @ The 2015 Sundance Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. Where can hipsterdom and traditional Americana come together in common purpose? Evidently, along our nation’s railways. Neither wants to be tied down, nor are either in any particularly hurry. Collaborating with musicians who would feel at home either at Lollapalooza or on Austin City Limits, Doug Aitken documents a twenty-four day coast-to-coast train trip in sixty-one one-minute shorts films (plus beginning and end credits), assembling it all into the restless, slightly avant-garde concert doc, Station to Station, which screened at the 2015 Sundance Film Festival.

Granted, Aitken’s preferred term of “happenings” is pretty cringey, but the ten stops his transcontinental train made for multi-disciplinary performances mostly look like a lot of fun. It seems the music never stopped, as performer after performer gets their one minute feature spot, sometimes at the happening, other times on the speeding train.

A pair of flamenco dancers, an old school western auctioneer, and the Kansas City Marching Cobras are particularly fun to watch, because they have tons of talent, but they are hardly recognizable celebrities. However, big name recording stars like Beck and Thurston Moore bring their A-game, perhaps even winning over new fans. Of course, nobody can out power soul legend Mavis Staples. Perhaps the biggest surprise is the appearance of Giorgio “Flashdance” Moroder, but it is pretty cool to see him do his thing on the synthesizer.

From "Station to Station."

Despite its linear direction and the imposed limits of the train, Station is a largely shapeless film. However, it has a lot of energy and it is visually quite stylish. Whether it be the lonely desert vistas, the warm glow of an electronica performance, or the evocative sight of Aitken’s movable light show of a train hurtling through the night, he and co-cinematographer Corey Walter always make the rapidly changing visuals look great. On the other hand, when he invites spoken word commentary from the likes of Gary Indiana, we mostly get annoyingly folksy dialectics.

Frankly, Station to Station probably isn’t experimental enough to sit comfortably in Sundance’s New Frontiers section, but it is hard to see where it would more easily fit. It certainly moves along at a good clip. Like Midwest weather, if you’re not digging it, just wait a minute and it will change. Rather pleasant overall, Station to Station is recommended for listeners of Sonic Youth and Patti Smith, as well as the sort of neo-roots artists profiled in No Depression. Having just notched a number of international sales, Station to Station should find its audience after world-premiering at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on February 4th, 2015 at 8:28pm.

LFM Reviews 20 Years of Madness @ The 2015 Slamdance Film Festival

20 Years of Madness – Trailer from 20 Years of Madness on Vimeo.

By Joe Bendel. In 1988, Mystery Science Theater 3000 debuted on Minnesota’s struggling independent KTMA with little fanfare, but it was just too funny not to go national. High school student Jerry White, Jr. assumed the same was true of his raucous suburban Detroit cable access show, 30 Minutes of Madness (30MOM). You could legitimately debate whether this was true or not, but the fact remains he never received the big league call-up he was hoping for. Twenty years later, White tries to get the gang together to take another shot at it. Jeremy Royce documents the unruly reunion in 20 Years of Madness, which won the Jury Honorable Mention for Documentary Feature at the 2015 Slamdance Film Festival.

Based on the generous samplings of weird and wacky clips, the original 30MOM looks like a cross between the slapstick stunts of Jackass and The Kids in the Hall at their most conceptual. Although it was an analogue VHS deal, through and through, White had a facility for pulling off strange visual effects. Perhaps they could have caught on, but like every cult band that didn’t make it big, they imploded from within before they ever got that big break.

Having recently graduated from film school (where he met Royce), White is now at loose ends. Since 30MOM is still his best known calling card, he tries to revive it with his old colleagues. White will more or less admit his runaway ego was most to blame for poisoning the chemistry the first time around. Everyone seems to be willing to make another go of it, but some seem more willing to patch up old resentments than others.

One of the strange things about 20YOM is the way the various players shrink and grow in stature over time. Sometimes White seems to be reverting to his old high-handed ways, but as we listen difficult cast-members whine and play the diva card, it is hard to blame him for telling them where to get off. Happily, he seems be able to permanently repair his friendship with Joe Hornacek, who was probably the second most important 30MOM contributor after White.

From "20 Years of Madness."

It is rather fascinating to see what the motley crew does with their possible second chance. After all, no 30MOM alumnus has exactly set the world on fire. One lost about a decade to heroin addiction, while another struggled with bi-polar disorder. At least White and Hornacek could reconnect for real, which is a rather hopeful development.

At times, White is rather contemptuous of YouTube, explaining that 30MOM had viewers who made a real time commitment to find and watch their show, rather than net surfers hitting the “like” button. Those who share his affection for the VHS tapes and cable broadcasting of the 1980s and 1990s will get his point. Even if you never saw 30MOM, 20YOM will make you nostalgic for the era that produced it. Who knows, now that Royce’s doc has at least one festival award under its belt, maybe the 30MOM show could see some kind of release on the increasingly obsolete format known as DVDs? Recommended for anyone who still feels more comfortable with old school media (and the grungier the better), 20 Years of Madness screened at this year’s Slamdance Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on February 2nd, 2015 at 9:12pm.

LFM Reviews Listen to Me Marlon @ The 2015 Sundance Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. Let’s be honest, the notion of Marlon Brando talking to himself probably isn’t that shocking. You might not have guessed it was through self-hypnosis tapes, but that probably still feels like it fits. They happened to be part of a large collection of private Brando recordings preserved by his estate. With its blessing, director-editor Stevan Riley has shaped this archive into a ghostly first-person confessional narrative, “written by” and “starring” the famous actor. The Brando that emerges is exactly what we expect, yet deeper and surprisingly revealing throughout Riley’s Listen to Me Marlon, which screened during the 2015 Sundance Film Festival, in advance of its future Showtime debut.

Through audio diaries and rarely seen interviews, Brando pretty much covers all his big career milestones (like Streetcar, Waterfront, Last Tango, and Godfather) as well as his more notorious misfires (Guys and Dolls, Mutiny on the Bounty, and Countess from Hong Kong). He also opens up regarding his troubled childhood and the profound influence of his acting teacher Stella Adler. Yet, as is often the case, some of the best sequences are relatively small moments, like his shameless flirting with a series of female interviewers during an early 1960s press junket.

Yes, Brando loved Tahiti, which he speaks of with deep affection. In fact, Brando is quite eloquent on his private tapes. Clearly, he is not speaking with an audience in mind, because he definitely lets his public mask slip. He is often painfully honest in his assessment of his own character and rather dismissive of much of his own work. His curt appraisal of his Oscar winning turn in On the Waterfront will be especially vexing to some fans, but it contains a real nugget of wisdom when recommending giving the audience the space to create a performance themselves. (Don’t you wish Meryl Streep had given us more of that kind of space in Osage County?).

Riley’s only real misstep is the overuse of a disembodied head, generated from a laser scanning session Brando consented to. It sort of breaks the intimate mood, evoking a Max Headroom vibe instead. However, the archival news reports of tragic Brando family scandals feel shockingly honest and raw. We get a sense the Brando on television and the private Brando were essentially one and the same.

For those of us who grew up when Letterman was still funny, it is strange to realize how spot-on Chris Elliott’s impersonations on the Late Show really were. All those Brandoisms are true, but we can understand better where they came from. Listen is the rare bio-doc that might make more fans for its subject, because it allows Brando to humanize himself. Recommended for fans of 1960s and 1970s Hollywood, Listen to Me Marlon was a hot ticket at this year’s Sundance Film Festival that should soon find a wide audience on Showtime.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on February 1st, 2015 at 10:50am.