Category: Documentary

By Joe Bendel. They are not “Reborn” in a physical or religious sense. This is strictly a bureaucratic designation for the “substitute” children allowed to parents who lost their first and legally only child in the horrific Sichuan Earthquake. They are already a sizeable and growing demographic. U.S. based Beichuan native Zijian Mu follows the lasting repercussions of the Sichuan quake for one set of parents fortunate enough to have a Reborn child and two grieving mothers who for various reasons remain childless in One Child, listed as one of the year’s best documentary short subjects, which screens this Monday as part of the Oscar Buzz series at the Maysles Documentary Center.

Out of the estimated ninety thousand Sichuan fatalities, about five thousand are thought to be school children, nearly all of whom were “single children,” as per government policy. Of course, exact figures are unavailable due to state censorship. Many surviving parents have tried to plug the holes in their hearts with an allowable “Reborn” child. Jiang Hongyou and Fu Guangjun were duly blessed with a little girl whom they understandably dote upon. She is now old enough to recognize photos of her big brother, but they are waiting until she is a few years older to explain his heartbreaking fate. It is the kind of tricky parenting question luckier parents of New Beichuan will grapple with more and more.

Yang Jianfen would dearly wish to be a similar position. Still mourning her teen-aged daughter, but no longer able to conceive, she yearns to adopt. However, her increasingly cold and passive aggressive husband Fang Yanggui will not cooperate with her efforts, particularly when it comes to the requisite fees. Old Fang might be cold and insensitive to his wife’s needs, but his concerns about money are not completely unwarranted. After all, the Communist government only loaned the 8,000 Yuan down-payments for displaced residents’ replacement flats in shiny New Beichuan. So much for: “to each according to their needs.”

Despite Fang’s lack of support, Yang continues to pursue avenues of adoption, but that is no longer an option for the older Gu Jiazhen. She lost her grown daughter and husband during the earthquake. Although her grandchild survived, she no longer has access to him after her son-in-law’s remarriage. Instead, the pious convert takes what solace she can from Buddhism. She certainly does not receive any comfort from the state.

Sadly, Mu’s family was also touched by the Sichuan tragedy, so he well understands the raw emotions at play. His treatment of surviving parents is unflaggingly sensitive, but still acutely penetrating. Mu does not ignore the wider political context, but Reborn is still probably best seen in conjunction with more macro-focused films like Alpert & O’Neill’s previously shortlisted China’s Unnatural Disaster and Ai Weiwei’s muckraking Disturbing the Peace and So Sorry, both of which are findable online (except maybe in China). Nor does he ghoulishly dwell on the horrors of the actual catastrophe, even though he incorporates some harrowing footage of the chaotic aftermath.

Indeed, the forty minute documentary packs a powerful punch because of its concentration on the traumatized parents. Highly recommended for general audiences and Academy members, One Child screens this Monday (1/5) at the Maysles Center, followed by a Q&A session with the filmmaker.

Posted on January 5th, 2015 at 12:10pm.

By Joe Bendel. Leroy Robert Ripley was a cartoonist who really put his stamp on Times Square. In 1939 the syndicated globe-trotter opened his first Odditorium on Broadway and the organization that bears his name and catch phrase successfully re-launched a tourist trap on 42nd Street in 2007. Ripley’s various media properties might seem kitschy to contemporary ironic hipsters, but writer-director-producer Cathleen O’Connell and her cast of expert commentators establish how popular and respected he was during his Depression-era heyday in Ripley: Believe It or Not, which premieres this coming Tuesday as part of the current season of American Experience.

Ripley was a rather nebbish fellow with tragically buck teeth that Steve Carrell might consider playing next time he trolls for Oscar love. After getting sacked by newspapers in San Francisco, Ripley was able to re-start his career in New York penning sports cartoons. For slow sports days, he started cataloging unusual athletic feats for what became early forerunners of the Believe It or Not template. Obviously, readers approved. Much to his surprise, it led to a dream assignment sending comic strip dispatches from an around-the-world journey. Soon the Ripley’s comic as we know it was humming along, but it was a book deal with Simon & Schuster that really turned him into a sensation.

There are probably a lot of people who remember buying Ripley’s books at school book fares, so it will be somewhat mind-blowing to learn his was a Da Vinci Code level bestseller in his day. Many of the 1980s generation will also remember the packaged television series with Jack Palance, but radio was really the medium that cemented Ripley’s fame.

O’Connell, who previously helmed American Experience’s War of the Worlds special, has a good feel for slightly genre-ish non-fiction filmmaking. She largely casts Ripley as a pseudo-Horatio Alger figure, but also gives due credit to Norbert Pearlroth, his unsung research director, without getting bogged down in the three-headed dogs and ten foot cigars Ripley breathlessly covered. Ultimately, she paints an appealing portrait of a self-reinvented adventurer, despite his considerable human weaknesses.

O’Connell’s Ripley is a breezy hour that never overstays its welcome. Those who watch it will be far less likely to roll their eyes while dashing past the new Times Square Odditorium on their way to a screening at the AMC Empire. Recommended for those who enjoy slightly strange Americana, Ripley: Believe It or Not airs this coming Tuesday (1/6) on most PBS outlets nationwide.

Posted on January 5th, 2014 at 12:10pm.

By Joe Bendel. He never lost a battle, but he has been immortalized with a dish that would probably not appeal to his palate. Reportedly, Zuo Zongtang, a.k.a. General Tso, really did like chicken, but the Americanized sauce of the recipe bearing his name would be far too sweet for the ardent Chinese nationalist. While nobody recognizes the American Chinese take-out staple in his home province of Hunan, it is a different story in Taipei. Ian Cheney chronicles the recipe’s journey and the Chinese-American restaurants that serve it in The Search for General Tso, which opens this Friday in New York.

Frankly, the real General Tso was a counter-revolutionary, who successfully put down the crypto-Christian millennial Taiping Rebellion that would later be invoked by both Dr. Sun Yat-sen and Mao. He was also dead-set against western influence in China. So how did his namesake chicken conquer the American takeout market? It is a complicated story, but Cheney conclusively follows a trail running directly through New York back to Taiwan. As a bonus, he also reveals the origins of cashew chicken in the unlikely city of Springfield, Missouri.

Ostensibly, Search is about the Qing Dynasty General and the crispy chicken he never knew, but it is really more about the Chinese-American immigrant experience and the entrepreneurial drive that has produced thousands of restaurants throughout America. It was never easy, especially when Nativist laws were still in force during the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries. Yet, with the support of their families and cooperative neighborhood associations, new arrivals were able to scratch out a living in the restaurant sector, often relocating to towns with nearly no Chinese-American communities to speak of (and therefore no competition). Indeed, Americanized dishes like Chop Suey and General Tso’s Chicken reflect an impulse to assimilate and cater to their regional customers.

The big picture is rather inspiring, despite plenty of ugly episodes in places like Springfield, before the locals were won over by cashew chicken. In fact, much of the film could be considered a celebration of hard work and family, especially when it interviews people like Philip Chiang, founder of P.F. Chang’s, who started in the business working in his mother’s ambitiously upscale restaurant.

Visually, Search is also unusually stylish for a documentary, incorporating Sharon Shattuck’s lively animated transitions and plenty of glorious food shots. If you are looking for foodie indulgence, Cheney delivers. The Szechuan Alligator at Trey Yuen’s in Louisiana looks and sounds particularly tempting. There is just no way viewers will not have Chinese for dinner after watching the film.

You sort of expect the search for General Tso to be Quixotic, but Cheney answers all his questions, establishing a definitive history of the crispy chicken menu item. Yet, the film covers much more cultural history, without getting hopelessly bogged down in identity politics. Smart, well balanced, and briskly paced, The Search for General Tso is highly recommended for culinary minded audiences when it opens this Friday (1/2) in New York at the IFC Center.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on December 30th, 2014 at 5:19pm.

By Joe Bendel. In 1913, the premiere of Stravinsky’s The Rites of Spring caused riots. One hundred years later it has been codified and canonized to such an extent, considerable programming was commissioned to celebrate its centennial. The music does not directly correlate to Stravinsky’s score, but it served as something of a road map for Prashant Bhargava when he filmed the Holi springtime festival in the Northern Indian city of Mathura. Conceived and commissioned as a collaboration with musician Vijay Iyer, Bhargava’s Radhe, Radhe: the Rites of Holi screens with the composer’s live score accompaniment as part of Iyer’s Music of Transformation concert program at BAM.

Now available on DVD from ECM Records, Radhe, Radhe is sort of an experimental melding of music and images in the spirit of Shirley Clarke’s Bridges-Go-Round, but with dramatic and ethnographic components. Bhargava duly captures the eight day Holi festivities in Lord Krishna’s traditional birthplace, but he intersperses the revelry with impressionistic scenes of the goddess Radha, whose ardor for Krishna encompassed and transcended all forms of love.

Although it mirrors the twelve movement structure of Stravinsky’s Rites, viewers will be forgiven if they do not pick up on that point while immersed in the work, especially since the film only identifies two primary sections, “Adoration” and “Transcendence.” Iyer’s solo piano prelude is rather dissonant and free-ish, but it soon gives way to a brightly hued, driving theme with a somewhat Metheny-esque vibe nicely suited to the exuberant crowd scenes. Eventually the flutes evoke the sounds of traditional Indian musical forms, but the trumpets build to a series of rather brassy and jazzy crescendos.

During the “Transcendence” section, Iyer’s skittering piano often announces abrupt mood swings on screen. While Holi is a celebration, nobody is excluded from the customary dousing of colorful dies and powders, regardless of age or general willingness. Indeed, some targets of the merriment clearly do not enjoy the attention, which rather darkens the film’s tone, but it is true to life.

Perhaps the most intimidating challenge fell to actress Anna George, who must convey the passion and devotion of Radha without the benefit of dialogue. Yet, she does so with great power and sensitivity, without ever allowing becoming overwhelmed by Iyer’s roiling score.

The combined artistry of Iyer, Bhargava, and George really transports viewers to an entirely different sphere. Even with the recorded score, it is the darnedest Stravinsky tribute. Hearing it performed live (by Iyer with the International Contemporary Ensemble) should give it a further kick. Recommended for those who appreciate multi-media collaborations, Radhe, Radhe: the Rites of Holi screens during Iyer’s Music of Transformation concerts this Thursday, Friday, and Saturday (12/18-12/20) at BAM.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on December 14th, 2014 at 10:32pm.

By Joe Bendel. It could very well have been St. Joseph himself who miraculously constructed the Loretto Chapel’s circular staircase in Santa Fe, but strictly speaking, he was a carpenter. That leaves Antoni Gaudí in pretty exclusive company as a beautified architect. One hundred thirty years after it first broke ground, his life defining project continues to be erected in Barcelona. Stefan Haupt follows the progress and meditates on the significance of the already imposing cathedral in Sagrada: the Mystery of Creation, which opens this Friday in New York.

Originally commissioned in 1882, the Order of St. Joseph hired Gaudí to take control of the unwieldy project a year later. Known for his devout Catholicism and wholly distinctive style, Gaudí was an inspired but slightly risky choice. Throughout his final years, he lived and breathed the Sagrada Familia, even though he knew he would never live to see its completion. He hoped to see the Nativity façade finished, but tragically succumbed to injuries sustained from a tram accident. For a while, his assistant Domènech Sugranyes carried on in his stead, until the macro events of the Twentieth Century temporarily halted the project.

Haupt does a nice job chronicling the various phases of construction, but his cast of talking head experts are suspiciously concise when discussing the effects of the Spanish Civil War. Evidently, when the Loyalists were burning churches, they also destroyed all of Gaudí’s plans and scale models that they could find, leaving the Sugranyes and his fellow architects in absolute disarray, but they were good leftists, so let’s not discuss it.

Still, Haupt and the current architectural team clearly understand the Ken Follett-like sweep of the project. For many, it represents not just faith in God and his church, but a faith that succeeding generations would finish the work they started. Obviously, the final Sagrada Familia will be necessarily different from what Gaudí originally conceived, which is a burden and an opportunity for several contemporary artists working on its decorative elements. Easily the most eloquent is Japanese sculptor Etsuro Sotoo, who converted to Catholicism while working on the Sagrada Familia. In fact, there are a number of Japanese connections to the cathedral, such as Hiroshi Teshigahara, who previously documented an earlier period of construction in his film Antonio Gaudí (also opening this Friday).

At times, Haupt asks (or implies) some spot on questions, like what do contemporary Christians build if we no longer erect cathedrals? Of course, his trump card is the Sagrada Familia itself. It is a stunning sight, perhaps even more so when juxtaposed against the modern secular cranes supporting its raise into the heavens. It would be hard to make it look prosaic, but Haupt and cinematographer Patrick Lindenmaier find particularly cinematic angles for some truly dramatic visual compositions.

On the other hand, Haupt forces an artificially surreal note into the film when he stages brief scenes of dancer Anna Huber posing amid the half-constructed interiors. Regardless, it still serves as a thoughtful overview, primer, and guided tour of what has already become Barcelona’s most popular tourist attraction. Sometimes religion and architecture can actually draw a crowd. Recommended for Gaudí admirers, Sagrada: the Mystery of Creation opens this Friday (12/19) in New York, at the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center.

LFM GRADE: B

December 14th, 2014 at 10:31pm.

By Joe Bendel. Just imagine what might have been if Orson Welles had worked in the digital era. Probably no other filmmakers left behind so many unfinished yet potentially great films. As his latest video-biographer Chuck Workman documents, Welles had no shortage of work ethic. It was simply a lack of everything else, particularly money. You may have heard this story before, but Workman illustrates the great auteur’s rise and fall with a wealth of striking visuals and many rarely seen archival interviews. Welles gets the full Workman treatment in Magician: the Astonishing Life & Work of Orson Welles, which opens this Wednesday in New York.

Welles was a precocious but never small child. Evidently, in the Welles family, children had to be interesting performers, or they were banished to the nursery to be boring in private. Obviously, Master Orson was not about to be shunted away. In a departure from many DVD-behind-the-scenes-extras, Workman patiently invests a bit of time up-front on Welles’ formative years in Woodstock, Illinois, where he honed his craft at the Todd School and the local Woodstock Theatre, whose main stage has since been renamed in Welles’ honor. Workman takes the audience there and it does indeed look like fitting launching pad for Comet Welles—an intimate yet classy space that could fire a young genius’s imagination.

By the time Welles hit the New York theater world, he was practically a fully formed master. Workman breezes through his early Broadway triumphs and radio superstardom, essentially using the feature films to island-hop his way through Welles career. At this point, the film starts to feel very familiar to anyone with a casual knowledge of Welles’ life and career. Yes, Citizen Kane is a masterpiece and The Magnificent Ambersons sort of is too, but according to Welles RKO cut out the most important parts. However, Workman includes some fascinating interview excerpts with the late Oscar winning Robert Wise, justifying the cuts he made at the studio’s behest.

Magician also incorporates tantalizing glimpses of films Welles started but never completed, such as The Deep, Don Quixote, and the technically finished but now mostly lost Merchant of Venice. Frankly, this is some of the best material Workman collects, hinting at what might have been. It nicely compliments Workman’s full visual portrait of the artist, which also directly addresses his larger than life celebrity status, as seen through clips of Welles guest appearances on I Love Lucy, The Muppet Show, and various chat shows and commercials.

There are not a lot of surprises in Magician. Frankly, you really have to stretch to find any new material at all in the film. Still, Workman and company make a convincing defense of Welles’ unfinished oeuvre, arguing he was committed enough to start production, whereas most would-be filmmakers accept defeat in the development or pre-production stages.

Magician certainly makes you want to watch all of Welles’ films again, including the ones that we can’t, which means it probably accomplishes its goals, but it never feels as fresh as Visionaries, Workman’s relatively recent (stylistically traditional) survey of avant-garde filmmaking. Recommended for Welles diehards looking for something to tide them over until the long rumored release of The Other Side of the Wind (promised for the auteur’s centennial this coming May), Magician opens Wednesday (12/10) in New York, at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on December 9th, 2014 at 8:24pm.