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By Joe Bendel. Photographer-filmmaker Tim Hetherington never considered himself an artist. Nor could he be dubbed a partisan—his work was far too honest. The terms “photojournalist” and “war correspondent” sound insufficient, but they might have to do. It was in such a role Sebastian Junger met his late friend and collaborator, whom he profiles in Which Way is the Front Line from Here? The Life and Time of Tim Hetherington, which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

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Hetherington is best known for co-directing the Academy Award nominated Restrepo with Junger. Following a platoon’s fifteen month deployment to Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley, Restrepo is widely considered by both critics and veterans to be the most accurate depiction of what war is like on a day-to-day basis. Yet Junger clearly suggests it was his time spent in Liberia that most shaped Hetherington’s professional approach. After his name-making series was published, Hetherington stayed in the West African nation for another two years. If anyone could be considered the opposite of drive-by journalism, it would have been Hetherington.

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Hetherington and Junger showed similar commitment in Afghanistan, becoming perhaps the most deeply embedded journalists ever. Logically, the Korengal period factors prominently in Front Line, including footage and interviews with veterans of the platoon that will surely interest viewers familiar with Restrepo.

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Junger also interviews Hetherington’s colleagues, parents, and the woman he was planning to start a family with. However, Junger saves the last word for himself and he makes it count. As a result, one can see Front Line as a tragically fitting sequel to Restrepo.

Sadly, Hetherington accepted one assignment too many, dying from shrapnel wounds during the Libyan Civil War. (Lest the State Department jump to conclusions again, it should be noted this happened over a year before the Innocence of Muslims protests.) It was a terrible loss, as viewers can judge from the ample selection of Hetherington’s photos illustrating his work. Despite his protestations, Hetherington’s work shows a remarkable sense of composition. He had an eye. Junger presents it well in a moving tribute to his friend and comrade. Highly recommended, Which Way is the Front Line from Here screens again tomorrow (1/23) and Friday (1/25) in Park City and Saturday (1/26) in Salt Lake during this year’s Sundance.


Posted on January 22nd. 2012 at 11:58pm.

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From "Kill Your Darlings."

By Joe Bendel. In 1944, by a confluence of fate, the leading lights of the Beat movement assembled together around Columbia University, including Allen Ginsburg, Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, and Lucien Carr. There is a reason you might not recognize the latter name. Poetry and scandal mix freely in the Beat origin story dramatized in John Krokidas’s Kill Your Darlings, which screens during the 2013 Sundance Film Festival in Park City.

Allen Ginsburg is certain that poetry is his calling. His certainty about sexuality is another matter. Arriving at Columbia, his Jewish background automatically sets him apart as an outsider. His resistance to aesthetic orthodoxy, however, establishes his credibility with Carr, the campus literary rebel. Soon Ginsburg is visiting jazz clubs, sampling Benzedrine with their mutual friend Burroughs, and pining for the androgynous Carr.

Ginsburg is not the only one carrying a torch for Carr. Former professor David Kammerer appears to exert some sort of malevolent emotional hold on his ambiguous friend, which Carr increasingly resents. Since Darlings starts in media res, viewers realize this will all end in tragedy.

Known to a scruffy handful of fans for a series of British films about boarding school students dabbling in the occult, Daniel Radcliffe is serviceably nebbish as Ginsburg. At least he looks like a confused kid. However, Ben Foster is almost worth the price of admission by himself, nailing not just the Burroughs drawl, but also his eccentric cadences and precise demeanor. Unfortunately, Jack Huston’s Kerouac is 100% meathead and 0% poet. Still, even though he looks like he stepped out of a fashion commercial, Dane DeHaan is convincingly dissolute as Carr.

From "Kill Your Darlings."

Darlings is a decent period production, featuring some swinging tracks from Vince Giordano. Frustratingly, music comes dead last in the closing credits, well after the caterers and the drivers, even though it contributes far more to the overall viewing experience. What would Ginsburg and Kerouac say about that? However, the colorless underscore is a truly baffling creative decision. David Amram is still at the top of his game and has considerable experience scoring films; had Darlings brought him onboard they would have had an apostolic connection to the Beat Generation. That’s his music in Pull My Daisy, after all. Instead, they opted for the light classical approach.

Indeed, Darlings represents a series of missed opportunities. Foster is terrific and the mid-1940’s New York vibe is appealing. It even has Sledgehammer!’s David Rasche as the Dean of Columbia. Nonetheless, the film’s lurid preoccupation with Carr’s sex life becomes tiresome. More music and more poetry would have made it a stronger work. Mostly of interest to earnest Ginsburg and Burroughs fans, Kill Your Darlings screens again today (1/22), tomorrow (1/23), and Friday (1/25) in Park City as part of this year’s Sundance.

Posted on January 22nd, 2012 at 11:57pm.

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By Joe Bendel. Alt-pop music used to be great at expressing young amour and heartsick yearning. Evidently, it still does in the Philippines. Some remarkably catchy tunes perfectly accompany a damaged teen’s first significant love in Marie Jamora’s What Isn’t There, which screens again today as part of the 2013 Slamdance Film Festival in Park City.

Gibson Bonifacio stopped speaking. He could if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He blames himself for his twin brother’s death and assumes everyone else does, too. His mother’s overbearing behavior does not exactly help bring him out of his shell, either. Unfortunately, his beloved little sister Promise bears the brunt of her control freak parenting. Bonifacio’s only solace comes from his brother’s ghost conjured from his imagination and his vintage music, until he happens to meet Enid del Mundo.

Much to his surprise, del Mundo does not seem to mind his silent ways. She is also a vinyl collector, whose tastes include British New Wave and traditional Harana ballads. She is cute, too. Viewers can hardly blame Bonifacio for getting hung up on her, even though we know by now young love almost never runs smoothly.

You can dog WIT for being sentimental, but it takes its characters and situations refreshingly seriously. Jamora and co-writer Ramon De Veyra clearly think getting dumped is a pretty rotten thing to happen to a sensitive teenager, which indeed it is. She also has an ear for hummable and thematically appropriate pop songs and Haranas.

Dominic Roco’s Bonifacio is supposed to be introverted, but there are times when he seems to literally shrink on camera. In contrast, Annicka Dolonius lights up the screen as del Mundo. While the large supporting ensemble all looks right, Boboy Garovillo and Sabrina Man both add a memorable sense of earnest down-to-earth-ness as Bonifacio’s father and younger sister, respectively.

WIT is a lot like a Filipino John Hughes movie, but with less comedy. Those who like bittersweet teen dramas will really dig this one. Recommended accordingly, What Isn’t There screens again this afternoon (1/22) at Treasure Mountain Inn, as part of this year’s Slamdance.


Posted on January 22nd, 2012 at 11:55pm.

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By Joe Bendel. It often seems like the Academy’s rules for the best foreign language category are obscure and arbitrarily applied. Frankly, the only language spoken in Spain’s official submission is body language. Yet Pablo Berger’s silent film qualified. In fairness, it is about as Spanish as it gets, earning eighteen Goya nominations for combining the Snow White fairy tale with the rich tradition of bullfighting. Unfortunately, Blancanieves will not repeat The Artist’s Oscar success, failing to even reach the foreign language shortlist. However, it should still find considerable arthouse love when it opens this Friday in New York.

Antonio Villalta was a great matador, but one day he faced one bull too many. As the paralyzed Villalta lies upon the operating table, his beloved sadly dies in child birth. Recognizing a ticket to the easy life, the cold, calculating nurse Encarna sets her sites on the weakened widower. Yes, you could say she is an evil stepmother to young Carmen. Initially raised by her grandmother, Carmen is forced to become a servant on the Villalta estate after the kindly old woman’s death. Though forbidden to see her father, she starts paying furtive visits to the equally miserable Villalta. Even confined to his wheelchair, Villalta teaches her everything about the family business. It will be a useful skill when things come to a head with Encarna.

Suffering from amnesia, Carmen falls in with an itinerant company of diminutive novelty bullfighters. When her innate talent and extensive training are revealed, the troupe is quickly redubbed “Blancanieves and the Seven Dwarfs.” They seem to be one dwarf short, but they are never sticklers for details in Spain. Obviously, the act is a hit, which perturbs Encarna and you know what that means.

Blancanieves is the third Snow White adaptation in about a year’s time and by far the best. Yet it will draw far more comparisons to Michel Hazanavicius’s Artist than to Kristen Stewart’s home-wrecking Huntsman. Without question, Berger is a much richer visual stylist than the Oscar winning director. On the other hand Hazanavicius’s elegantly light touch, flair for physical comedy, and old fashioned romanticism are ultimately a tad more satisfying. Nonetheless, Berger frames some stunningly expressionistic tableaux and his transitions are a show unto themselves. However, he embraces all of the tragic heaviness of the Brothers Grimm and almost none of their macabre fantasy.

The cast is also quite strong (but again The Artist’s ensemble would narrowly take the honors in a face-off). Daniel Giménez Cacho’s work as Villalta is particularly poignant and the dwarfs stand head-and-shoulders above their more famous counterparts in Huntsman. Sofía Oria is also quite touching as young Carmen (while Macarena García’s older incarnation is somewhat less so).

Watching Blancanieves, one is struck by the painstaking composition of each shot and the care taken to perfectly match every note of Alfonso de Vilallonga’s score (featuring both sweeping orchestral pieces and some infectious flamenco-inspired songs). Furthermore, the lack of award season recognition for Kiko de la Rica’s gorgeous black-and-white cinematography is nothing less than a crime. A work of true cinematic artistry, Blancanieves is recommended for all real movie lovers when it opens this Friday (1/25) in New York.


Posted on January 22nd, 2012 at 11:54pm.

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