LFM Reviews My Voice, My Life

By Joe Bendel. If you expected class distinctions would vanish in Hong Kong after re-integrating with the Mainland, reality has been profoundly disappointing. For many, the only significant change is the undemocratic governance mandated by Beijing. Last fall, thousands of HK students protested for the right to hold legitimate elections. Simultaneously, a group of disadvantaged HK high school students discovered potential they never knew they had when they were selected to stage a professional musical theater production. Six of their fellow students were also recruited to document their behind-the-scenes drama. None of them were activists, but their efforts to assert control over lives and futures takes on unintended symbolic implications in Oscar-winner Ruby Yang’s My Voice, My Life, which opens this Friday in New York.

In Hong Kong, there is a rigid hierarchy among secondary schools. Underperforming students at the last chance “Band 3” schools are often looked down upon by their peers and their elders, but their employment prospects are still better than those facing graduates of the Ebenezer School for the Visually Impaired. Of course, the latter students recruited for the awkwardly named L plus H Creations Foundation’s production of The Awakening (featuring a conspicuously Les Mis-ish sounding finale) are by far the most reliable during the early days of rehearsal. There will be a pretty steep learning curve for the other kids, both musically and personally.

Frankly, it was not always clear whether the production would really come together. In Coby Wang, they had a lead with all kinds of natural talent, but her acute lack of confidence prevents her from realizing her diva potential. More problematic are the troublemakers who undermine discipline and unity with their antics. Yet, as the rehearsals progress, the hardest cases start to realize their fellow students are relying on them to get it together.

Yang (who was last nominated for the short David-and-Goliath doc, The Warriors of Qiugang) and editor Man Chung Ma are extraordinarily dexterous juggling the various students’ and their backstories. Viewers really get a fully developed sense of at least eight or nine of the cast-members, while also meeting an assortment of parents, teachers, and theater professionals, which is quite an impressive feat of screen-time management in a ninety-one minute film.

From "My Voice, My Life."

None of these kids are bad per se. Some have just been living down to low expectations. Fortunately, several are extremely charismatic, while nobody in their right mind could root against the earnest Ebenezer students. Clearly, Andy Lau agreed. The HK superstar and former bad kid saw something of himself in the Awakening cast-members, so he hit the Hong Kong publicity circuit on the film’s behalf, making it an unexpected box-office success.

Of course, their story does not end here, but at least Voice gives us reason to suspect there is much more to come from its subjects (especially since they are now so well known to Lau). Frankly, they sort of cry out for the Seven Up treatment. Regardless, they deserve a chance to pursue a higher education and real career opportunities. Likewise, they ought to be able to vote for the politicians of their choice. At least Yang’s documentary should help with the former. Recommended for idealistic musical theater fans, My Voice, My Life opens this Friday (8/28) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on August 25th, 2015 at 2:59pm.

LFM Reviews Queen of Earth

By Joe Bendel. Depression runs in Catherine’s family. They are also one of the leading causes of depression in others. Ostensibly, she has come to her friend’s summer home to relax and get away from her troubles, but she will really just do her best to make everyone around her miserable in Alex Ross Perry’s acutely unsettling but undeniably riveting Queen of Earth, which opens this Wednesday in New York at the IFC Center.

Catherine has just been dumped by James, the boyfriend with whom she was so lovey-dovey during last year’s trip to Virginia’s family vacation home. The timing is particularly bad, coming soon after the death of her father—a tragedy made worse by the unspoken circumstances involved. Back then, Virginia did not like James at all, but she does not seem to be judging him too harshly now.

As Catherine settles in, as best she can, Perry flashes back to her happier, co-dependent days with James. Virginia was not expecting her to bring him the summer prior, so she made no secret of her resentment. Catherine also immediately clashed with Rich, Virginia’s neighbor and potential love interest, who is decidedly not intimidated by artsy, pseudo-intellectuals like Catherine. A year later, James is out of the picture, but Rich is still there, expecting to get lucky with Virginia and rubbing her the wrong way.

Vexed by memories and annoyed by Rich and Virginia’s insensitivity, Catherine slides deeper into depression, perhaps losing her handle on reality in the process. If you ever doubted depression is absolutely a genuine health risk, just spend some time with Queen. Many of the dangers are readily apparent, while some are eerily implied. Yet, despite Catherine’s massively unreliable POV, it is definitely fair to say profoundly bad things are going on in that summer house.

You can argue how best to classify Queen, but it bears obvious comparison to Polanski’s Compulsion and Elisabeth Moss’s lead performance will completely chill you to your bones, so some might call it horror. However, it also has the uncomfortable intimacy of Cassavetes and even, Heaven help us, Ingmar Berman. Moss’s work is bold and disturbing, but tightly controlled and carefully calibrated. There absolutely no foaming at the mouth or similar such Meryl Streep shtick on display here. The film is also quite an ensemble piece, featuring first-rate supporting turns from Catherine Waterston and Patrick Fugit as Virginia and her friend with benefits. Frankly, nobody is remotely “likable” in this film, but you cannot tear your eyes away from them.

Cinematographer Sean Price Williams has amassed plenty of credits (including the terrific documentary Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo and the highly entertaining Drunk Stoned Brilliant Dead), but Queen might be the film that gets him award recognition. He gives Queen an undefinably retro look, amplifying the dramatic power with his long-held close-ups. It is a distinctive film in all senses that is likely to be regularly studied and re-examined for years to come. Recommended for admirers of psychological dramas (with the emphasis on psycho), Queen of Earth opens this Wednesday (8/26) at the IFC Center.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on August 25th, 2015 at 2:59pm.

LFM Reviews Memories of the Sword

By Joe Bendel. Poong-chun, Deok-ki, and their lady comrade-in-arms Seol-rung were once dreaded warriors leading a rebellion against Goryeo Era tyranny. Unfortunately, betrayal cut short their uprising, along with the principled Poong-chun’s life. However, it was not jealousy that tore the trio asunder. It was more of a case of miscommunication. Of course, the tragedy compounds mightily when Poong-chun’s daughter seeks to avenge her murdered parents in Park Heung-sik’s Memories of the Sword, which opens this Friday in New York.

For years, Seol-hee has been rigorously trained by Wol-so, a blind tea house proprietor, to wreak vengeance on her enemies. Wol-so has kept many secrets, including her real identity: Seol-rung. She is not the only one living under a new name. Deok-ki is now Yoo-baek – a general so competent, he is naturally despised by his colleagues in court. The feeling is mutual.

When Yoo-baek observes the masked Seol-hee crash his martial arts contest, he immediately recognizes Seol-rung’s style. When news of her escapade reaches Seol-rung, it forces her hand. Revealing herself and Yoo-baek as Seol-hee’s familial enemies, Seol-rung casts out the girl with only her father’s sword. It is sort of a case of tough love, but it confuses Seol-hee no end. Nevertheless, it is suddenly healthy for her to be far away from Seol-rung.

From "Memories of the Sword."

At a youthful twenty-four (looking more like twelve), Kim Go-eun (who exploded onto the scene a mere three years ago in Eungyo, aka “A Muse”) notches her first action lead here as Seol-hee. In fact, she is rather perfect for the role, looking young and vulnerable, but flashing some convincing moves. Yet, Jeon De-yeon truly delivers the romantic angst and a fair number of beatdowns as the very complicated Seol-rung. In contrast, international superstar Lee Byung-hun seems to be somewhat distracted as Deok-ki/Yoo-baek, as if he were waiting for his next G.I. Joe script to arrive, but Lee Kyoung-young makes an unusually hardnosed Yoda as the trio’s powerful and reclusive teacher.

There are some spectacular martial arts sequences in Memories, as well as some Crouching Tiger-esque scenes of skipping across rooftops and treetops that defy logic and gravity, but still look quite cinematic. Indeed, Park elevates the film with a good deal of visual poetry. Genre fans will also appreciate how he steadily deepens the impassioned tragedy with each new revelation. Recommended for action fans who appreciate classy production values and a bittersweet payoff, Memories of the Sword opens this Friday (8/28) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on August 25th, 2015 at 2:59pm.

LFM Reviews The Boy

By Joe Bendel. Compared to the Mountain Vista Motel, the Bates Motel is quite a going concern. Like Norman Bates, Ted Henley also has mommy issues, but his absentee mother ran-off with a truck driver, abandoning him and his shell of a father long ago. That has not helped his moral-ethical development much. However, there is good reason to suspect the nine-year old is naturally inclined towards sociopathic violence. We will watch as his nature and lack of nurture lead to horrific results in Craig William Macneill’s The Boy, which opens tomorrow in New York.

The Bates Motel comparison is inescapable, but frankly, everything about Henley screams future serial killer. Even his name evokes memories of Bundy and Hinckley. As the film opens, Henley’s pa pays him a quarter for each roadkill carcass he cleans off the mountain highway skirting round their usually vacant motel. Henley has devised ways to entice more small varmints to their death, hoping to earn enough money for a bus ticket to visit his disinterested mother. Of course, these killer instincts will steadily escalate over time.

William Colby is first outsider to get caught up in Henley’s schemes. He happens to have the misfortune of barreling into a deer grazing on Henley’s highway chum. With his car totaled, Colby will be staying for a while. Decidedly not the former CIA director, this Colby has a mysterious past of his own, which fascinates Henley for all the wrong reasons.

From "The Boy."

The Boy is a decidedly slow building thriller, but it really does build, with the tension slowly increasing second, by discernable second. This is only Macneill’s second full feature and his first as the sole helmer, but it is remarkably disciplined. He shows the sort of mastery of unitary mood Poe advocated for short story writers. Macneill never indulges in cheap gore just to placate genre fans, but The Boy is absolutely not a tease. When it gets where it is going, it is pretty darned jarring.

Young Jared Breeze is perfectly cast as Henley. A first blush, he looks like an innocent toe-headed scamp but when you peer into his eyes, you see the psychotic hellion. Unfortunately, the film’s midnight genre credentials mean David Morse will probably receive limited recognition for one of his best film performances as the tragically in-denial and self-loathing Mr. Henley. Rainn Wilson also does some career best work as the erratic Colby.

In fact, there will probably be a bit of an expectations disconnect for The Boy as a former SXSW midnight selection released under Chiller’s theatrical banner. It is an unusually accomplished work from Macneill and his cast that would appeal to fans of art house auteurs, like maybe Refn Winding and Gaspar Noe. Highly recommended for discerning horror and psychological thriller fans, The Boy opens todday (8/21) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on August 21st, 2015 at 10:33am.

LFM Reviews The Curse of Downers Grove

By Joe Bendel. Thanks to the original Poltergeist film, nobody wants to build on ancient burial sites anymore. Unfortunately, Chrissie Swanson’s high school was prefabbed in the 1960s or 1970s, when they were not so particular about defiling sacred ground. As a result, a legend of a curse hangs over the student body, inevitably given credence to many by the annual untimely death of a senior during the week before graduation. Swanson is not superstitious, but a psycho-stalker gives her very real and immediate cause for concern in Derick Martini’s The Curse of Downers Grove, co-adapted by Bret Easton Ellis, which opens this Friday in select theaters.

It is sad enough living in a burg called Downers Grove. With a name like that, suicide and depression should be even bigger problems than curses. Swanson is too level-headed for any of that. She is a defiant unbeliever, despite her periodic visions of irate Native Americans. Inexplicably, her single mom chooses the notorious curse week to gallivant off with her beau for a romantic getaway. Sure, she is entitled to lead her own life, but if you live in Downers Grove, some things ought to be pretty high on your worry list.

Of course, this gives Swanson’s obnoxious younger brother and her trampy BFF Tracy an opportunity to throw a blow-out bash. However, Swanson is in no mood to party after the local college’s star quarterback tries to pull a Cosby on her at a frat mixer. Swanson manages to fight him off, but gauges an eye out in the process. Evidently, this will not help his NFL prospects much. As a result, the now one-eyed Chuck lurches into full blown psychosis. The Swanson siblings, Tracy, and Bobby, Chrissie’s sensitive auto mechanic crush, will have to hunker down and try to weather the storm.

In some ways, Downers Grove is sort of like a throwback to Kevin Williamson’s glory years, but Elis and Martini deserve surprising credit for not over-writing it. They never over-reach trying to sound hip and ironic. Frankly, the film is pretty grounded, all things considered. Although it is nowhere near as effective as David Robert Mitchell’s It Follows, both films portray the young characters’ relationships with similarly realistic complications and ambiguities.

Lead actress Bella Heathcote is not exactly Maika Monroe either, but she is still refreshingly down-to-earth and forceful. Neither a shrinking violet nor a scream queen, she shows some real screen presence and backbone. As Chuck, Kevin Zeggers goes nuts pretty effectively. On the other hand, Lucas Till feels out of place playing Bobby, as if he were afraid he might get some grease on his clothes.

Swanson’s “if I had but only known” voice-over narration is ridiculously heavy-handed, yet it sort of fits the occasion for precisely that reason. Although it is a relatively straight forward genre movie, Downers Grove is not as horrifying as The Canyons or as nihilistic as American Psycho. In fact, it is reasonably effective in a VOD kind of way, arguably representing Ellis’s best film work to date. While not a classic by any means, The Curse of Downers Grove holds a strange, somewhat guilty, retro-nostalgic late 1990s appeal for horror fans when it releases this Friday (8/21) in selected theaters and on iTunes.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on August 19th, 2015 at 6:39pm.

LFM Reviews Gurukulam

By Joe Bendel. Swami Dyananda Saraswati is exactly the sort of spiritual teacher most seekers hope to study under. He is witty, charismatic, and decidedly beyond worldly concerns. Yet, he functions in our terrestrial realm with quite a high level of competency. It is easy to understand why his Arsha Vidya Gurukulam ashram draws students from around the world for its celebrated five-week course—and he is a major reason why they keep coming back. They might not necessarily attain enlightenment, because that is the sort of thing you never find when you look for it. Nevertheless, the Swami’s diverse students will find some degree of illumination through his words in Jillian Elizabeth & Neil Dalal’s Gurukulam, which fittingly screens this weekend at the Rubin Museum of Art in Chelsea.

Advaita Vedanta is the oldest school of Vedanta, the Hinduist philosophical tradition to which J.D. Salinger subscribed to sometime after the publication of Catcher in the Rye. Frankly, Salinger was far more of a hermit or Stylite than the Swami ever was. Despite renouncing the world, he is quite sociable and gregarious. Clearly, enlightenment will not begrudge a little friendly conversation.

For obvious reasons, those most interest in Vedic and Hindu religious thought will get considerably more out this documentary than comparatively casual viewers. However, it is still rather intriguing as a work of non-fiction filmmaking. At various points, Elizabeth and Dalal essentially present the audience with a choice. They can either join in Swami Dyananda’s meditation and visualization exercises, or they can remain spectators. They are both valid choices, but you have to choose.

Of course, much of Gurukulam is devoted to quiet observation, but it is never as hushed as Into Great Silence (a not terrible comparative film). There is always plenty of life going on at the Arsha Vidya. In fact, even to shallow agnostics, it looks quite livable for an ashram nestled in the rainforests of southern India.

From "Gurukulam."

Indeed, this is an unusually transporting film, submerging viewers in the sights and ambient sounds of Arsha Vidya Gurukulam and its surrounding environs. Serving as cinematographer, documentarian J.P. Sniadecki (whose films are screening throughout Manhattan this week) has a keen eye both for the big, symbolically loaded Samsara-esque shots, as well as the smaller, lighter moments of bonhomie.

Gurukulam will probably not inspire scores of new Vedic adherents to flock to the Swami’s ashram, but that means all of us unabashed materialists can feel safe watching it. It will definitely take you someplace you have never been before. Once there, Elizabeth, Dalal, and editor Mary Lampson show a shrewd editorial judgment focusing on telling details. It is a finely crafted film under any circumstances, but there will be no better venue to see it amongst a knowledgeable and sympathetic audience than the Rubin Museum. Recommended for those who enjoy meditative and immersive documentaries, Gurukulam screens this Saturday (8/22), Sunday (8/23), and Monday (8/24) at the Rubin Museum of Art.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on August 19th, 2015 at 6:38pm.