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Holy Smoke

21 February 2010, 5:25 am

(1999) dir. Jane Campion
viewed: 02/20/10

Since watching An Angel at My Table (1990) and Bright Star (2009) last year, I’ve been on a determined path to catch up by watching all of director Jane Campion’s films.  No real order to this, so I’ve selected a sort of odd film of hers here, 1999’s Holy Smoke which is perhaps most pointedly, compared to her other films, a comedy.  All of her films seem to have comic elements at times, but in this case, the whole cast is a bit of an over-the-top decpiction of the Australian family.

While Campion herself is from New Zealand, this film is about a suburban Sydney family who fears that their wayward daughter (played by always charming Kate Winslet) has fallen under the spell of an Indian mystic and has turned into a cultist.  They hire a hot-shot American deprogrammer (played by Harvey Keitel) to come out and break her.  The whole thing turns hurdy-gurdy and eventually climbs to pretty significant absurdist heights.

I’ve noted before, which may or may not be true but there seems in Australian cinema, a picture of Aussies as pretty freaking loopy.  The semi-nuclear family here features some broads caricatures of the gay brother and his boyfriend, the straight brother and his flowzy tart of a wife, the over-bearing but well-meaning mom, and a whole cast of other characters who I never fully got a grasp on their relationships.  To a big extent, this is one of the film’s main characteristics.

But the film is about the highly-confident deprogrammer who goes on his own Australian adventure, drawn in by the rebelious, sexy Winslet, who is both broken according to plan but also manages to “break” her deprogrammer too.

I’d say this film is by no means as strong as Campion’s other films, though it has its charms.  Winslet and Keitel are both compelling.  Winslet’s slutty sister-in-law, played by the tarty Sophie Lee is also quite funny.

But after having become a bit of an “Intervention” junky (the A&E television series that depicts real interventions, though not deprogrammings), some of the methodology and approach seemed kind of strange and suspect.  I guess it’s not really meant to be taken seriously, though it does raise some interesting points, such as whose reality is genuine?  I mean, her family lovingly commits to trying to bring her back, but they are a kook-fest of their own and Keitel’s version of reality becomes so compromised that it’s hard to know just what the grounding is for the ultimate return to “sanity”.  Though the film does find its way there eventually.

I’d say this is definitely a lesser Campion film, but one that might be interesting in an Australian cinema analysis.

Filed under DVD.
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Red Riding: 1983

18 February 2010, 6:01 pm

(2009) dir. Anand Tucker
viewed: 02/16/10

The final part of the Red Riding Trilogy, Red Riding: 1983 wraps up the narratives of Red Riding: 1974 (2009) and Red Riding: 1980 (2009), though with much more focus on 1974 than the other.  As with the other films, this one is adapted from the final book of David Peace’s series about North Yorkshire crime and corruption in this period of 9 years and adapted by writer Tony Grisoni.  And this film is directed by yet another director, Anand Tucker, who has perhaps the least impressive resume of the three directors and gets stuck with the most convoluted of the three scripts to direct.

Now that I have seen all three films, which were made originally for England’s Channel 4, but are being released theatrically (and on cable’s On Demand) in the States, I can say that the whole is more and better than the sum of the parts.  The parts, the three films, on their own are decent, maybe a tad above what one typically considers “made of TV” movies, though as I noted, “made for TV” movies in Britain tend to be better than ones in America, with the potential exception of some now produced for cable.

Red Riding: 1983 has the misfortune of having to resolve all the narrative tropes of the series and therefore finds itself almost half of the time in flashback mode, using some clips from the prior films, but also just “explaining” the story.  There is a mystery here.  The child murders of 1974 are brought back to life when a new child disappears.  And a dissipated barrister and one of the bad cops who develops a conscience help to oust the black heart of the corruption and seek redemption.

The period is interestingly photographed.  England’s countryside is beautiful, the moors and the hills, but the poverty of the housing districts, all of England under heavy black clouds, is hung under a depression.  Perhaps with some more context for the larger political and social landscape outside of the North would have added to this historical vision.  But the story is all about the North, how in the North the motto is “This is the North, we do what we like.”  And all the top police, businessmen, and even the priests are all part of a murderous mafia whose deepest, darkest evil is a child molestation and pornography ring.

Frankly, it’s hard to fathom that so many people who were in the police would be able to stomach the knowledge that a child murderer, child rapists, child abductors and exploiters were at work.  Of all the crimes that collusion would be brought together upon, the idea that that many prominent figures could participate or willingly allow such a thing to happen is just hard to believe because it is so morally reprehensible, that someone within this circle would have to have balked and fought against it.

For Red Riding: 1983, the whole thing has to be revealed, and I actually found it a bit confusing in its revelations at times, so it’s not handled as well as it could be.  The whole of the series is better when the finale is there because the story is more complete, so I would say that these films on their own are not the way to go.  It’s a series that should be seen that way.  However, though the series is more than the sum of the parts, it’s still not fantastic.  It’s got some interesting things going on in it, some good actors and good performances, and it intrigues.  But on the whole, … eh.

Filed under TV.
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The Wolfman

16 February 2010, 5:48 pm

(2010) dir. Joe Johnston
viewed: 02/15/10 at CineArts @ the Empire Theater, SF, CA

The latest Hollywood re-make in the theaters is the new Benicio Del Toro-starring re-do of the Universal “classic” The Wolf Man (1941).  While it would be probably erroneous to say that the film doesn’t represent further creative bankruptcy and cynnical re-heating of Hollywood of its own creative high points (since what films out there are either not re-makes, sequels, or semi-plaguerized riffs anymore?), their is a dedication to the original film, even citing Curt Siodmak, writer of the original screenplay, as the initiator of this story.

Del Toro (who started his career in cinema as a fur-face in Big Top Pee-Wee (1988)  as “Duke the Dog-Faced Boy”) is the unsmiling and tortured “prodigal son” who returns to his family’s English estate after many years in America to find out about the gruesome murder of his brother.  His brother’s widowed fiance, played by the attractive Emily Blunt, who is a ringer for their tragically dead mother, shows some liking toward him as well.  His father, Anthony Hopkins, is the gun-toting baron of a massive estate, in deep decay (no doubt a moral reflection in this very Victorian/Gothic aesthetic given to the art direction).  And Hugo Weaving is the London detective sent to investigate the series of “Ripper-like” murders.

Del Toro, in seeking out the gypsy camp to find out more about his late brother, finds himself at the center of a ravenous attack by the loose werewolf, and though he is bitten, he survives.  And of course, he becomes the “Wolfman” himself.

This Wolfman racks up a much higher body count than perhaps any other ever before.  Limbs are ripped off, heads are swiped from their shoulders, claws sprout through mouths and eyes, entrails are everywhere.  In one night out in London, “Dozens” are killed according to the following morning newspaper.  The monster will take on whole crowds, whole towns, whole caravans, whole cities.  And he’s extremely muscular.

Even the design of the Wolfman is a nod to the 1941 original.  He is a “wolf-man”, more man than wolf, generally walking on his hind legs, though to really get running fast and furious, he’ll use all four.  He also lacks the muzzle of a true canine, so the face retains the human behind the make-up a tad. 

The “change” effects are created by the master Rick Baker, who has done his share of werewolf morphing.  He designed both The Howling (1981) and the most frequently cited and influential An American Werewolf in London (1981), not to mention, Wolf (1994).  I actually thought that the effects were one of the film’s strongest points.

As a whole, though, the film never really rises above the functional.  That is to say that while it’s by no means terrible, it’s also by no means excellent.  Hopkins is quite good as the tyranical, macho father figure, clad, head to toe and home in animal pelts, deer antlers and the like.  And Hugo Weaving manages to give his inspector a few good scenes (enough so that he’s probably the most interesting or potentially interesting one in the film.)  But like so many re-makes, re-treads, and re-boots, because the film lacks a true reason for being, a true vision (perhaps a stronger director properly motivated could have shaped the material better), the whole thing, while not a lost cause, is also nothing spectacular either.

Now my last note here will be the quality of a spoiler, so you can stop reading if you want, but I do want to mention since it’s one of the key elements of this film in contrast to its predecessor is that the backstory isn’t about a gypsy werewolf who bites Del Toro but rather it’s his father who is the werewolf all along, so there is this familial heritage astpect to the story, which is kind of interesting, but really what it allows for is a battle royale between two big, powerful werewolves, fighting to the death.  That’s the modern twist on the story, the truly 21st century additive.  More monsters, more dead people, more fighting.

Filed under Theatrical.
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Red Riding: 1980

15 February 2010, 9:05 pm

(2009) dir. James Marsh
viewed: 02/10/10

Red Riding: 1980 is the second of the film trilogy Red Riding made initially for England’s Channel 4.  This installment is directed by James Marsh (Man on Wire (2008)) and follows Red Riding: 1974.  While the whole series, adapted by Tony Grisoni from a series of books by David Peace, follows the year-oriented installment plan, for some reason they skipped what would have been “part 2″, 1977.  I don’t know why, perhaps budget reasons, narrative tightening? 

Anyhow, the filmic part 2, Red Riding: 1980 picks up six years after the first installment and does recall certain incidents from that film, the bloody shoot-out in a local pub that was part of the first film’s finale.  However, by 1980, the story if fixed upon the case of the real-life Yorkshire Ripper, who murdered 13 women over a five year period.  But the story isn’t just about the real crimes, though it starts off with the discovery of one of the victims.  The story is really concerned with the over-rife corruption in Yorkshire in this period, one in which the police’s failures to find and convict the killer has led to opportunity to hide other crimes under the Ripper’s style.

A hot-shot officer from the South is sent up North to perform his own investigation of the crimes, empowered by the State and not beholding to the local magistrates.  He is met with a great deal of disdain, not only as an outsider, but as an outsider who had once before been through, trying to clean up another murky internal affairs issue (perhaps the story of the missing 1977 episode), and as he constructs his team of detectives and delves into the murders, he begins again to stumble across the hidden crimes of the police department.

Since these films were made as a series, aired on British television perhaps a bit more like a mini-series rather than three individual films, it’s hard to know how entirely to deal with these individual pieces of the puzzle.  Perhaps, to try to see them a bit more uniquely, one might even try to watch them out of order rather than in order.  Or maybe it just simply should be seen as parts of a whole.  The directors of the three films are all different, though not different enough to stand out dramatically, attached as they are to a coherent vision of the story through a single adaptation and not necessarily directors of significantly unique “styles”.

Again, as in Red Riding: 1974, the film is solid, well-acted, intriguing, and compelling, but not massively so.  The build-up upon the prior story does seem to add to the whole, but isn’t yet complete enough.  It still feels sort of “television quality” or, to be fair, perhaps “telly quality” as the English do tend to make far more solid television movies than one would see in America outside of cable.

Catching them as I have on On Demand, which is my experiment of the year, films that are “Same Day as in Theaters”, I am trying to decide how I feel about it.  With this series not actually playing locally outside of a short-run film festival, my guilt about watching on television versus going to the theater is not so apt.  However, I’ve been having trouble getting the third act to play, so that may be the final decision-maker for what I think, both about these films and about On Demand.

Filed under TV.
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Red Riding: 1974

15 February 2010, 8:45 pm

(2009) dir. Julian Jarrold
viewed: 02/10/10

Red Riding: 1974is the first of a trilogy of films made for the British Channel 4 and now being released theatrically (and on On Demand) here in the United States.  It’s a series of adaptations from a four book series by English crime writer David Peace, covering a nine year stretch of time 1974-1983 and basing its narratives around some real-life serial crimes from that period, including the Yorkshire Ripper case and a series of child murders that preceded it.  While the story is constructed around real events, the whole of the narrative is a fiction, not entirely unlike the work of James Ellroy in his LA Quartet.

The three films are directed by different filmmakers, in this case Julian Jarrold (Kinky Boots (2005) and Becoming Jane(2007)), but are adapted all by the same writer, Tony Grisoni.  And they are woven together with some recurring characters.

Recently, there was a new film festival here in San Francisco, the “Mostly British” Film Festival, which featured these films, which I hadn’t heard of at the time, but then in the most recent issue of The New Yorker an interesting review ran of the films and I was tempted to watch them on On Demand (they are not yet playing theatrically in SF outside of their showings at the festival).

Red Riding: 1974 follows a young reporter who comes to the Yorkhshire Postand becomes intrigued by what he realizes is a set of serial child murders, which he has a hard time getting his editor or the local police to show interest in.  The whole of the series of stories is set in North Yorkshire, mostly around Leeds, and the picture painted by Peace/Grisoni is one of clannish corruption to the depth of the core in the police, the gentry, and even into the free press.  He is even beaten severely and dumped for his troubles with the warning that “This is the North” and this is how things are.

The reporter hooks up with the widowed mother of one of the children killed by the serial murderer, and finds himself embroiled in further corruption stories through the research of a colleague who winds up killed and the intimidation of the local magnate who looks to build an American-style mall on land that he owns, driving away the gypsies who had squatted on it.

For this film, though, the ornate aspect of the child murders, the swan wings stitched into the backs of the murdered child, the insane wife, and the way the whole thing boils down, seems a bit more contrived than revelatory.  I mean, it’s hard to do the serial killer thing without giving them some unique character aspect of their murders (it’s all been done before), but then it’s impossible to believe that if something that far out had happened that it could possibly have been kept quiet, no matter who the murderer turned out to be.

But I’m holding off some of my opinion about Red Riding: 1974 until I’ve had a chance to see the other two, in case it perhaps makes all more sense by the time the finale rolls around.  It’s good.  It’s earnest.  But perhaps somewhat forgettable.

Filed under TV.
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The House of the Devil

9 February 2010, 9:50 pm

(2009) dir. Ti West
viewed: 02/08/10

The House of the Devil is an intentional throw-back horror film, set in the early 1980’s and using credit titles meant to look as though it was actually produced back then.  It had gotten some decent reviews, so I was game to check it out.

Writer/director Ti West sets things slowly into motion, building time and place, and characters, namely the heroine, the very pretty (and very skinny) Jocelin Donahue as the college sophomore who wants to get out of her dorm room and into a nice private apartment.  She’s given some emotional depth, given time to brood upon.  And her best bud, played by Greta Gerwig, who had caught my eye in the “Mumblecore” film, Baghead (2008), here with feathered hair and a cute, semi-dipsy conviviality.

It’s a babysitting gig, on the night of a lunar eclipse, that you can guess from the title of the film, The House of the Devil, is either some Rosemary’s Baby (1968)-type of babysitting gig or something with pentagrams and human sacrifice.  It’s the latter.

Way out in the countryside, Gerwig drives Donahue to the house, but the whole thing is suspicious from the start.  The older couple say that it’s not really a child they want her to babysit, but an elderly mother, who will be no bother.  And when she’s offered $400 for one night’s worth of work, it wouldn’t take Nancy Drew to figure out that something was really fishy.

A term that I find myself using often in describing films that “try” to do something interesting, unique, different, but don’t seem to have all the necessary talents or elements in place is earnest.  There is an earnestness to this film, a real attempt to give some verity to the humanity of the characters and to try to pose the story like one that’s not just totally insane.  It also attempts to build drama and tension rather than pop up with lots of shocking nothings (”what was that that just ran past the camera too close to see, but with the wince of a violin?”) that you see all too friggin’ often.

But still, it doesn’t add up completely, certainly doesn’t become more than the sum of its parts, nor, I fear, will seem very memorable.  While its aesthetics seem to call toward The Last House on the Left (1972) or John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978), the film lacks originiality.  Still, much more interesting, say, than all the re-makes of that period’s horror films.

Filed under DVD.
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Jazz on a Summer’s Day

8 February 2010, 8:34 pm

(1960) dir. Bert Stern
viewed: 02/05/10

After watching Anita O’Day: The Life of a Jazz Singer (2007), which featured clips from this film of the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival, I didn’t even spend a second wondering why I’d never seen the film and just queued it to the top of my Netflix list.  It’s an amazing film, while documenting some amazing jazz legends and the setting for this scene of event, it takes a more Impressionistic approach to documentary, capturing much though not commenting on it greatly nor even trying to fully explain what all it is one is witnessing.

Director Bert Stern films the musicians, the audience, the countryside, the town, children, adults, yachts (the Presidents’ Cup was going on that day, too) and only uses some introductory voiceovers from either the stage or the radio to give any clarity to the specificity of much.

From a pure jazz/music perspective, you’ve got Thelonious Monk, Anita O’Day, Dinah Washington, George Shearing, Mahalia Jackson, Chuck Berry, Gerry Mulligan, Big Maybelle, and Louis Armstrong to drop a name or two.  I mean, that is pretty much “can’t go wrong” music.  And it’s interesting how even at the jazz festival in 1958 the music was already spread out along Blues, Rock’nRoll, and Gospel, and you can certainly hear it all coming and going from one to another in this formative time, leading into Soul and other types of music.

The Impressionistic approach is apt and lovely at times, such as when Stern focuses his camera on the reflecting light on the moving water as a visual dance along to the music played onstage.  My one complaint is that during Monk’s one piece, he interposes a radio anouncement about the yacht race.  This seems pretty lame.

But he scores big time with O’Day’s performance of “Sweet Georgia Brown” and “Tea for Two”.  The whole thing is fascinating, from the faces of the audience in this affluent, white town, the still pre-1960’s America, looking like Jackie Kennedy, pre-Civil Rights Movement, and with a few rock’n'rollers alongside the nattily-clad elite.

But the film is just that, images, music, capturing some amazing artists, a glimpse in time and place.  It’s really quite an aesthetically pleasing film, a wonderful picture with music, without too much knowledge, without too much analysis, just eyes and ears opened, drinking in all there is.

Filed under DVD, Documentaries.
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The Hobbit

7 February 2010, 2:43 am

(1977) dir. Jules Bass, Arthur Rankin, Jr.
viewed: 02/05/10

I rented this for the kids for Friday night and then wasn’t so sure that I would write about it here or not, it being a made-for-TV movie, not a theatrical release.   But last year I watched Steven Spielberg’s debut, Duel (1971), so the classification had already been brought to bear.

I remember when I was first introduced to The Hobbit, which was around this time.  I don’t recall seeing this on television before having my 4th Grade teacher read it to the class over a period of time.  The book, as I found it at the time, was pretty enthralling.  And my memories of the made-for-TV movie were positive but not enthusiastic, as I’d recalled, though I might have had some cultural effluvia related to it, too.

While Peter Jackson has made or re-made The Lord of the Rings series in mostly very good live action filmmaking, and has had plans to either direct or produce a version of The Hobbit too, well, I can’t say as it wouldn’t be worthwhile.  There is a significant earnestness to this film, with lyrics to songs from the book and some very heinous folk music to accompany it.  The film is made to be as good as it can.  As good as American-produced, made-for-TV animation could be in the 1970’s. which is to say about as good as a Hanna-Barbera cartoon, though with much more uniquely-styled characters.  The could well use the re-boot.

Some years ago, I’d revisited the Ralph Bakshi version of The Lord of the Rings (1978), which came out on the heals of the popularity of this version of The Hobbit, but they ultimately failed to make themselves memorable.  Though in 1980, director/producer team Jules Bass and Arthur Rankin, Jr. made a version of The Return of the King.   I think that at the age of 10 or 11 I had burned out after the 2nd book and though I wanted to find out how it ended, I didn’t feel like reading it all the way through.  Sort of like where I am today with the “Harry Potter” franchise.

The characters are largely nicely designed, particularly Gandolf, Smaug the dragon, the spiders, the goblins, and Gollum.  It’s a shame that poor quality production couldn’t help along these elements.  And it’s not like it’s a shabby voice-cast.  John Huston, Otto Preminger, Orson Bean, and Hans Conried, among others make the voice-acting sound good.

But the film tries to fit too much into too short a run-time.  At less than 90 minutes, the film speeds through sequences so fast that the kids can hardly take them in properly, and whole sections, understandably, are omitted.  Most lame of all is the “battle of the 5 armies” which is shown from above as a bunch of dots moving around on a blank-ish landscape.  Not just cheap but lazy too.

Really, the film’s earnestness, its relatively nice aesthetic (though Bilbo’s hair is like the worst thing ever drawn), the film pretty much sucks.  Felix and Clara liked it alright, which is partially why I decided to try it on them.  I thought we might try reading it and I wanted to gauge their potential interest.  Victoria was down with us, and she’s never been one for scary things.  She complained twice, aptly in my opinion, “Why is this movie so depressing?” (I think the Glenn Yarbrough folk tunes stuck in her craw — though now it’s painfully stuck in my head) and when Gollum comes on the scene talking “Preciousss…”, she almost left, saying “Now this is getting freaky.”

Filed under DVD, with the kids.
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Cold Souls

7 February 2010, 1:41 am

(2009) dir. Sophie Barthes
viewed: 02/04/10

Cut from a similar cloth perhaps to the work of Charlie Kaufman, especially films like Being John Malkovich (1999) and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), Cold Souls is a film high on concept and straddling the gap between absurdist comedy and meaningful drama.  The Being John Malkovich analogy is most apt in that this film could have been titled “Paul Giamatti’s Soul”, since it’s about Paul Giamatti, an actor, played by Paul Giamatti, the actor.  And though it’s not the same one, it is the same one.

The concept is that a technology is developed for extracting one’s soul and putting it into deep storage, to lighten one’s life a bit.  And the technology also allows people to take others’ extracted souls, harvested largely from Russia, and to use them for various forms of enlightenment.  In this concept, the soul is more like a gland in the brain and has varying visual representations from jellybeans to chunks of coal to Giamatti’s soul which is the size, color, and shape of a chickpea.

There are moments of broader humor, physical humor, as in when gesticulating, Giamatti tosses his soul out of its container.  But the film is also more focused on the exeriential meanings of using or trafficking others’ souls in your head.  It’s meant to have your laughs and cry it too (or at least be poetically moved).

For the most part, the film works.  There are lots of plot point holes, etc. if you really start contemplating it, but the idea for this film is not so much to get worked up over the details and just trek along with the story that the film is telling, with its chosen resonances rather than your brain’s own curiosity of the situation.

Surrealist comedy.  Maybe that’s the genre.  This and every Terry Gilliam film ever made.

Filed under DVD.
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Anita O’Day: The Life of a Jazz Singer

4 February 2010, 7:33 pm

(2007) dir. Robbie Cavolina, Ian McCrudden
viewed: 02/03/10

I’ve been an Anita O’Day fan for some years now, but really, I didn’t know more than a general sketch or bullet points of her life and certainly not as much of her significance in true jazz circles.  So, when I saw that there was a documentary about her life, I was pretty keen to see it.

Names like  Billie Holliday or Ella Fitzgerald resonate even the most non-jazz types.  But what is interesting, at least with the folks interviewed in this film, that Anita O’Day is actually considered as pure a jazz singer, as prime a jazz singer, as unique and important, seen in the same light with those other legends.  But O’Day is not the household name that those others are.

The film is extremely earnest and loving, interviewing O’Day toward the last couple years of her life (she died in 2002), but featuring performances, interviews, footage all from throughout her life and career.  So, while there isn’t one definitive set of interviews, we do get to see her with both Dick Cavett and Tom Snyder and even the annoying Bryant Gumbel.  She performed with so many of the legends.

But what I didn’t know was how much an innovator she was.  She came up with Gene Krupa in the Swing Band Era, also playing with Stan Kenton, but her Krupa tracks are some of the best swing tunes in my opinion.  But she innovated as well by deciding to move into playing with smaller groups, quartets and trios, and really influenced by Be-Bop, she also was massively into improvisation, not just scatting, but playing like crazy with tempo.

She tells a story about how during her tonsilectomy her uvula was accidentally cut off, which limited her ability at vibrato and sustained notes, which led her to stylistically play with shorter, more up-tempo variations, which wound up being her style.  And during the film, she shows a couple of times how aware she was of tempos and the variations that can arise from playing with those, changing a song in a multitude of ways.

She also was a heroin addict for 14 years, which led to an overdose that nearly killed her, and finally got her to clean up in the late 1960’s.  She’s one of those performers whose whole storytelling is part of their persona, so has a brassy openness about her hard times and talks frankly about drug use and withdrawl and survival. 

Also so very profound is her performance of “Sweet Georgia Brown” at the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival, captured for the film Jazz on a Summer Day (1960).  It’s considered one of the great jazz vocal live performances ever caught on film, certainly one of the greatest performances of that song.  I quickly added the film to my queue and sent it right to the top.

While the film is good and earnest, it’s not a masterwork itself of any kind, cobbled together as it is, but still so important that it’s also the first documentary made about this amazing jazz singer/stylist, who is truly among the great ones despite her relative obscurity.  I’ve got her playing as I write this and feel pretty damn happy to have learned about and been reminded about such an amazing artist and a truly interesting woman.

Filed under DVD, Documentaries.
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