Category: Watch Movies!

LFM Reviews Z Storm

By Joe Bendel. For the fortieth anniversary of Hong Kong’s Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC), David Lam and his all-star cast celebrated like it was 2008. Like Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. in The F.B.I., Louis Koo’s William Luk will righteously crusade against crooked cops and shadowy financial conspiracies, but he will have the fringe benefit of investigating Dada Chan in Lam’s Z Storm, which releases today on DVD and Blu-ray from Well Go USA.

Wong Man Bin is such a corrupt cop, he is even dirtier than some of white collar crooks he covers for, like the rather compromised accounting firm proprietor, who is quite surprised when Wong makes incriminating evidence disappear. Evidently, his paymaster, the extravagantly venal attorney Malcom Wu needs his house’s help to take the Madoff-esque Z Fund public. However, Wong’s recklessness also attracts the attention of Luk, who starts connecting the dots.

Since the former government chairman is the Z Fund’s public front-man, investigating Wu’s operation is a touchy proposition. To make matters worse, a major public-private charitable account will go all in with the Z Fund, once it is successfully listed. As a result, Luk is given a hard six day deadline to take down the Fund before it lists. Past that point, he must close his investigation rather than risk sparking a crisis of confidence that might jeopardize the charity funds. Unfortunately, each of his leads meets a tragic end, accept perhaps the mystery woman associated with Wu, Angel Leung On Ying.

As Luk, Koo seethes like the old pro he is, but it is the bad guys that really make Z Storm work. Michael Wong does his gloriously hammy thing, except even more so, as the spectacularly villainous Wu. However, Gordon Lam Ka Tung nearly matches the scenery Wong masticates, stick for stick, as the profoundly underhanded Wong Man Bin. It is almost like they are facing off in some sort of evil-doers’ Olympics.

Strangely, Dada Chan hardly has any time to establish Leung’s character, since about ninety-five percent of her screen time comes in the third act. However, the camera still adores her. It is also favorably inclined towards Janelle Sing, who inspires confidence as Tammy Tam, the ICAC’s brainy IT specialist.

There are a several nicely executed action sequences, but the many scenes of the ICAC arriving just seconds too late get a little frustrating. Still, the star power and the refreshingly complicated intrigue keep the film chugging along. Some occasional weird references also give the film idiosyncratic character. I’ll bet you didn’t know Zorro was a Spanish knight, whose weapon of choice was a sword. At least, that is what Z Storm thinks (evidently the Disney, George Hamilton, and Antonio Banderas incarnations never made it to HK). No matter, Chan and Koo are ridiculously attractive, while Lam and Wong are outrageously dastardly. Recommended for those who enjoy financial thrillers with a dash of flamboyance, Z Storm is now available on DVD, Blu-ray, and Digital HD, from Well Go USA.

LFM GRADE: B

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

LFM Reviews Being Evel

By Joe Bendel. If you were kid growing up in the late Seventies, you were probably all about Stars Wars, but if you were carrying a lunch box to school before 1976, there is a good chance Evel Knievel was on it. Subsequent decades were hard on the self-styled daredevil, but fans like skateboarding champion Tony Hawk and Jackass’s Johnny Knoxville still remembered the tarnished icon. Daniel Junge revisits the highs and lows of Knievel’s story in the Knoxville-produced Being Evel, which opens this Friday in select theaters.

Butte, Montana was still a bit of a rugged frontier town when young Knievel grew up there, but their cops were pretty funny. According to legend, Knievel once spent a night in the holding cell with a fellow troublemaker named Knoffle, prompting a deputy to dub them “Evil Knievel and Awful Knoffle.” That worked for Knievel, after softening the “Evil” with a second e.

One can find barnstorming precedents for Knievel’s death-defying stunts, but Knievel came up at the perfect time to most fully exploit the media. There were only three real networks in the 1970s, so just about every sports fan watched the buffet-style coverage of ABC’s Wide World of Sports on Sunday mornings. Somehow Knievel talked his way on as the opener for a dirt track race and quickly became a media phenomenon.

Seeing docs like Being Evel reminds us just how much the media landscape has changed within our lifetimes. It also explains the influence Knievel had on the culture, inspiring the extreme sports movement of the 1990s and perfecting an unparalleled personal merchandising machine. You will not see a lot of documentaries co-produced by Knoxville and George Hamilton (who played Knievel in the John Milius-scripted 1971 film), but here it is.

While carefully tracking Knievel’s cultural significance, Junge never loses sight of the outrageousness of his stunts. Frankly, he crashed out more often than his fans probably remember, which still makes for voyeuristically compelling viewing. Junge talks to just about all of Knievel’s surviving family and associates, including his much neglected first wife and his former promoter, Shelly Saltman. Despite being on the business end of Knievel’s notorious baseball bat attack, the latter is remarkably gracious, all things considered.

In many ways, Evel Knievel exemplified American self-invention. Being Evel clearly establishes his many flaws, but the risks he ran were still very real. Junge assembled some spectacularly dramatic and telling footage that evokes an era that is no so long ago, but feels so very far away. Briskly paced and stylishly constructed, it is one of the more watchable documentaries of the year. Recommended beyond the Knievel-extreme sports fanbase, Being Evel opens this Friday (8/21) in select theaters, including the Roxie in San Francisco, and also releases on iTunes.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on August 17th, 2015 at 9:26pm.

LFM Reviews Beltracchi: The Art of Forgery

By Joe Bendel. Family is important to notorious art forger Wolfgang Beltracchi. His closest accomplice was his wife Helene and his documentarian is the son of his lawyer, Reinhard Birkenstock. Beltracchi’s best forgeries were not copies of known works, but rather “newly discovered” works from important early Modernists, designed to fill holes in their oeuvres. This was not a new approach to art fraud, but Beltracchi was unusually successful at it. Even now, the art world still does not know how many of his “originals” have penetrated into museums and galleries. The rather unrepentant forger has no intention of revealing those secrets in Arne Birkenstock’s Beltracchi: The Art of Forgery, which opens this Wednesday in New York at Film Forum.

Thanks to a lenient work release program, the Beltracchis still enjoyed the fruits of their criminal endeavors during the day, puttering around their villa before returning to prison in the evening (supposedly they are employed by a friend’s photography studio). Wolfgang Beltracchi is now required to paint solely under his own name, but he shows Birkenstock how it is done, for old times’ sake. He is happy to explain the process, but plays it coy when asking for specifics on his past forgeries.

It is a shame Art of Forgery was not released while the Beltracchis were serving their sentences, because it could have spurred the court to revoke their privileges. Clearly, Birkenstock expects viewers to consider Beltracchi a roguishly jolly Falstaffian fellow, but instead we see someone who always manages to flaunt the rules. Frankly, it is annoying. There are also predictable questions raised regarding the fundamental value of art. Beltracchi and Birkenstock are definitely right about one thing, the current market climate gave experts every incentive to give his forgeries a pass, rather than digging into them with a fine tooth comb.

From "Beltracchi: The Art of Forgery."

There is no question Art of Forgery would have been a more compelling film if it had taken a more narrative-focused true crime approach, in the tradition of Smash & Grab and The Life and Crimes of Doris Payne. Art and Craft, the documentary profile of the socially awkward forger Mark Landis might be an obvious comparative film, but filmmakers Sam Cullman & Jennifer Grausman give nearly equal time to Landis’s Javert, thereby establishing conflict. Instead, Birkenstock’s film is like one long boasting session for Beltracchi.

Between Beltracchi and Landis, it is hard to have confidence in the integrity of any art you might find in most respectable institutions. That is not good for fine art’s place in the wider universe. Beltracchi’s story is indeed fascinating, but Birkenstock never fully tells it, omitting for instance a former business partner’s allegations he burgled their gallery (a nice bit of sensationalism surely worth re-dredging). Unfortunately, Birkenstock is just too thoroughly charmed by his subject. Beltracchi: the Art of Forgery has its intriguing moments, but it is too much like an artist’s working process doc, like Gerhard Richter Painter, which is a tad problematic for a film about a convicted forger. A mixed bag best enjoyed by those who bear a grudge against the established art world, it opens this Wednesday (8/19) at New York’s Film Forum.

LFM GRADE: C+

Posted on August 17th, 2015 at 9:25pm.

LFM Reviews The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

By Joe Bendel. In the 1960s, the MGM-produced Man from U.N.C.L.E. was one of the few TV shows that was successfully repackaged for American theatrical release. A little bit more action and seduction was added to two-part episodes that were then distributed in color, at a time when most televisions were in low def black-and-white. Frankly, it is rather surprising it has taken this long for the franchise to get the Hollywood reboot treatment. Happily, Guy Richie and co-screenwriter-co-producer Lionel Wigram harken back to the original first season more than the three shtickier years that followed. Nor do they attempt to update it for younger, dumber generations. The sixties are swinging and the Cold War is slowly boiling in Richie’s The Man from U.N.C.L.E., which opens today nationwide.

Napoleon Solo is a suave as it gets. The roguish CIA agent reluctantly agreed to put his talents at Uncle Sam’s disposal, when his career as an international art thief was thwarted through dumb luck. His latest mission will be smuggling Gaby Teller out of East Berlin.

Illya Kuryakin is an ardent Communist. That means he is not suave at all, but as a KGB agent, he is decidedly lethal. His latest mission will be keeping Teller in East Berlin. He will fail, but he will soon meet Solo and Teller again in Rome, ostensibly working together.

In a rare case of Cold War collaboration, the rival intelligence services will combine forces to stop a rogue element from building a super potent nuclear weapon with the help of Teller’s long estranged scientist father (Teller is indeed a credible name for a nuclear physicist, after all). Of course, it will be every spy for himself when it comes to retrieving this Teller’s research.

Like the source television show, the new U.N.C.L.E. kind of-sort of represents an idealist manifestation of détente during the height of the Cold War. However, Kuryakin’s backstory of doggedly striving to compensate for his family’s fall from grace during the Stalinist Purges would hardly earn Alexander Cockburn’s seal of approval. However, it adds a note of clear-headed historical context and makes Kuryakin’s proletarian plugger considerably more compelling.

Frankly, he needs the help, because Henry Cavill’s Solo eats Armie Hammer’s Kuryakin for lunch time and again during the film. Cavill’s scenery chewing work represents a star-establishing turn that out-Bonds James Bond, without descending into outright camp. Further upstaging Hammer, Alicia Vikander finally lives up to her hype as the next big thing smoldering up the screen as Gaby Teller.

From "The Man from U.N.C.L.E."

Unfortunately, Elizabeth Debicki and Deutschland ‘83’s Sylvester Groth are just okay as the standard issue Euro-villains, but Rome sure looks fab. Arguably, Richie is the most stylish director whom a major studio would trust with the keys to their shiny new prospective franchise reboot—and his sensibilities are perfectly attuned to the look and tenor of vintage Fellini Rome. His U.N.C.L.E. just oozes attitude and sophistication. He also has a hip ear for music (even though Les McCann & Eddie Harris’s rendition of “Compared to What” would have been even cooler for the opening titles than Roberta Flack’s).

Thanks to Richie’s disciplined flamboyance and key contributions from cinematographer John Mathieson and costume designer Joanna Johnston, U.N.C.L.E. is retro but not kitschy. Altogether, it is rather a good deal of throwback fun. Recommended for fans of the old school spy thrillers, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. opens wide today (8/14), including the AMC Empire in New York.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on August 14th, 2015 at 8:54pm.

LFM Reviews Tashi and the Monk on HBO

By Joe Bendel. Lobsang Phunstok is sort of the Father Flanagan of Tibetan Buddhism. At the foot of the Indian Himalayas, he founded Jamtse Gatsal, or “The Garden of Love and Compassion,” an orphanage and school for abandoned children. He might be a former Buddhist monk, but he has the patience of a saint when it comes to difficult children like Tashi Drolma. However, you have to feel for the five year old, considering how much she has already faced up to in her young life. Lobsang Phunstok and his staff will help her find her place in Jamtse Gatsal and start to heal her trauma in Andrew Hinton & Johnny Burke’s Tashi and the Monk, which premieres this coming Monday on HBO.

Drolma’s alcoholic father abandoned her sometime after her mother died at a tragically young age. That is more than any kid should have to deal with, so it is hardly surprising her behavior tends towards the aggressive. There is no question she is disruptive, but when you hear her make-up revealing stories about little girls just like her that are haunted by ghosts, it is easy to see she is hurting. Lobsang Phunstok understands only too well. He was also abandoned during childhood. That is why he will not give up on a trouble-maker like Drolma, even while he wrestles with difficult administrative dilemmas, especially his admissions process.

Clocking in well under an hour, T&M is comparatively brief, but it pummels viewers’ heartstrings. The disarmingly innocent looking Drolma will activate every protective instinct the audience might have, so it is rewarding to see her finally settle in, thanks in large measure to Raju, her “big brother.” However, the film also makes it painfully clear the good monk simply cannot save every child in need, showing us the tragic consequences for one child he was unable to admit.

We often think of Tibetan Buddhist monasteries as exotic places of spiritual sequestration. In contrast, T&M and Frederick Marx’s Journey to Zanskar paint a dynamic portrait of Tibet Buddhism as an activist faith, very much engaged with the welfare of the young and desperately disadvantaged. Both documentaries capture deeply moving human stories, while acting as a corrective to Lost Horizon-style exoticism.

After watching T&M for forty-some minutes, you will ardently care about what happens to both Tashi and her guardian. Hinton & Burke also have a good eye for visuals, giving viewers a vivid sense of the stunning Himalayan environs. It is a truly inspirational film that never feels saccharine or manipulative. Highly recommended for those interested in Himalayan culture and faith in action, Tashi and the Monk airs this Monday (8/17) on HBO.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on August 14th, 2015 at 8:54pm.

LFM Reviews Ping’an Yueqing @ Cinema on the Edge

By Joe Bendel. Experts contend the greatest degree of corruption in American government happens at the local level, because that is where most land use decisions are made. Apparently, it is the same in China, but more lethally so. The late Qian Yunhui was a rare breed—a village chief who actually protested the government’s land appropriation schemes. That may very well be why he is now the late Qian Yunhui. Ai Weiwei and his filmmaking team investigate the suspicious circumstances surrounding his death in Ping’an Yueqing, which screens as part of Cinema on the Edge, a retrospective tribute to the Beijing Independent Film Festival now playing in New York at Anthology Film Archives.

If you were still unclear how independent the Beijing Independent festival was and why the Communist government so resented their maverick programming, just start watching Ping’an Yueqing. Sadly, the village of Yueqing is anything but “peaceful.” Qian was imprisoned for over four years, but the village refused to elect another headman, because he was faithfully representing their concerns. Then one morning, Qian was conveniently struck and killed by a heavy truck owned and operated by the local power authority.

After an unseemly short investigation, Qian’s death was ruled an accident and his two deputies were arrested for obstruction of justice. Sensing a cover-up, the internet quickly took up the case. As the citizen investigators explain to Ai Weiwei, the traffic surveillance camera was ever so strangely offline for maintenance exactly during the so-called accident. However, video recorded by Qian’s smart-watch device (like his own, personal Zapruder film) did not match the description of the scene in police reports. The few eye witnesses willing to testify also contradict the official story in various ways. Yet, perhaps the most damning circumstantial evidence is the pattern of troublesome Zhejiang officials who were previously done in by similar traffic accidents.

Teacher Ai and his team do their best to put the dissembling officials on the spot. It is not always pretty, but the state mouthpieces generally conduct themselves more shrewdly than the apparatchiks in his classic Disturbing the Peace and So Sorry. However, the most disturbing sequences are the dozens of Yueqing villagers who tell Ai’s camera crews “if I talk to you, they will make me disappear tonight,” in exactly those terms. Regardless of the Qian case, this is obviously a profoundly ailing community, suffering from oppressive corruption.

From "Ping’an Yueqing."

Ping’an uses the same straight, unfiltered approach as seen in other Ai Weiwei documentaries, but in this particularly complicated case, it would have been helpful to have an on-camera presence to help marshal the often contradicting testimony and to occasionally provide context. Of course, Teacher Ai would have been perfect for such a role, but he is not inclined to inject himself into other people’s stories.

Regardless, Ping’an is a courageous example of independent filmmaking and investigative journalism. It shines a searing spotlight on a tawdry episode the Party would love the world to forget. Yet, thanks to Ai Weiwei and the Beijing Independent fest, cineastes who have never heard of Qian Yunhui will keep revisiting the events in Yueqing. A bold and chilling work of non-fiction filmmaking, Ping’an Yueqing is highly recommended for anyone who really wants to see what speaking truth to power really looks like when it screens again this Thursday (8/13) at the Anthology Film Archives and as part of the forthcoming tour of the Cinema on the Edge retrospective.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on August 12th, 2015 at 10:11pm.