Day: May 24, 2012

By Joe Bendel. Two twelve year-old runaways would like to remake the generic sounding Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet into a New England version of the Blue Lagoon, but they aim to maintain the cultural trappings of 1965 middle class America, as they relate to it, in the process. Unfortunately, the adult world keeps intruding on their private moments in Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom, the opening night film of this year’s Cannes Film Festival, which bows theatrically in New York tomorrow (Friday, 5/25).

Sam Shakusky is a terrible Khaki Scout. Actually, his skills are not that bad, but he does not fit in socially with Scout Master Ward’s troupe. Unbeknownst to Ward, Shakusky is an orphan, about to get the heave-ho from his foster family. However, the sensitive scout has successfully wooed Suzy Bishop, the eldest child of two self-absorbed yet profoundly unhappy attorneys.

When Shakusky fails to appear at revile one fateful morning, it sets off a manhunt throughout New Penzance Island, taxing the meager resources of Captain Sharp, Mrs. Bishop’s recently dumped lover. Chastely dedicated to each other, the two fugitives would like to permanently retreat from reality at the prosaically named inlet they duly redub “Moonrise Kingdom.” Instead, they will repeat a cycle of chase, apprehension, and escape, as a historic storm approaches New Penzance, as it always happens in an island-bound story.

It takes about ten seconds for Moonrise Kingdom to announce itself as a Wes Anderson film, through his constantly panning camera and the richly detailed vintage sets. Indeed, the attention to detail extends down to the covers of the chapter-books Bishop reads aloud to Shakusky. Yet, rather than detracting from his fable-like story, Anderson’s signature style is perfectly suited to the innocence of young love. Focusing on young POV characters is actually quite a shrewd strategy on his part, giving him the license to incorporate all kinds of nostalgic eccentricity (nod to Norman Rockwell? Check.) while staying faithful to their precocious worldview. Frankly, this is the sort of film a visual stylist like Tim Burton ought to be making, instead of aimless tent-poles like Dark Shadows.

As Mr. Bishop, Anderson mainstay Bill Murray once again plays a middle-aged depressive with deep-seated relationship woes. Fellow alumnus Jason Schwartzman is also back for more, getting some of Moonrise’s best comedy scenes as Cousin Ben, a slick operating senior Khaki Scout. Indeed, the film boasts several notably colorful supporting turns, including by Bruce Willis, acting his age and playing against his action hero persona as the put-upon Captain Sharp. Tilda Swinton also absolutely plays to the hilt the personification of bureaucracy known simply as “Social Services,” while the mere sight of Bob Balban’s “Narrator” in his bright crimson wardrobe generates laughter. Still, the dramatic load largely falls on the young newcomers, Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward, who are quite emotionally engaging leads, playing their scenes together scrupulously straight.

Essentially, Moonrise is a children’s movie for adults. Robert Yeoman’s cinematography gives it all a sensitive period sheen, while the soundtrack (dominated by the unlikely combination of Benjamin Britten and Hank Williams recordings, more than Alexandre Desplat’s original themes) effectively underscores the wistful vibe. Altogether, it is very Wes Anderson – but its gentle, humane spirit is quite winning. Recommended surprisingly highly (well beyond Anderson’s established circle of admirers), Moonrise opens tomorrow (5/25) in New York at the AMC Lincoln Square and Regal Union Square.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on May 24th, 2012 at 1:08pm.

By Joe Bendel. One of the twentieth century’s bloodiest assaults on religious freedom happened in the western hemisphere. It was perpetrated by “revolutionary” Mexican socialist president Plutarco Calles, whose iron-fisted anti-clerical policies inspired a real grassroots revolution. By the 1930’s an uneasy and imperfect peace had been brokered, but scattered bands of Cristero resistance fighters held out as best they could. One of the final squads grapples with their destiny in Matías Meyer’s The Last Christeros, which screens during the 2012 Seattle International Film Festival.

Mexico is still a land of wide vistas John Ford could love, but it is steadily closing in on the Cristero remnants. Pursued by a company of Federales, Col. Florencio Estrada’s troops are running low on everything, including bullets. Word reaches them of an amnesty, which some of the men are willing to consider. However, Estrada has been down that road before. Calles had violated the terms of truces before, and the period of his unelected “Maximato” was still underway. Though he misses his wife and daughters, Estrada has long since realized he will meet his end through this war, one way or another.

To establish the stakes of the Cristero revolution, Meyer opens the film with the 1969 oral history recording of Francisco Campos, who very well may have been the last Cristero. However, that is about as deeply as the film delves into the political, historical, and religious significance of the civil war. Instead, Last Christeros (for some reason, the international title carries the Anglicized “h,” while most references to the Cristeros maintain the original spelling) is an impressionistic depiction of the trying conditions endured by the weary freedom fighters. Theirs is not an existential life, though. Rather, they live for a purpose.

Though the ensemble consists largely of neophyte actors, they all look convincingly gaunt and weathered. Alejandro Limon is particularly haunting as the dedicated (and/or resigned to his fate) Estrada. Yet the picture’s defining work is that of cinematographer Gerardo Barroso, who creates painterly-like tableau of the rugged terrain and hardscrabble villages the Cristeros silently trudge through. Galo Duran’s evocative soundtrack also helps set an appropriately wistful mood.

For those thinking the Cristero revolt would also readily lend itself to a more traditional historical drama take heart—Andy Garcia rides into theaters with For Greater Glory on June 8th. This mini-boomlet of interest in the Cristeros is actually quite timely. In an election year, it reminds us of the price many have paid for liberty. If not exactly a work of advocacy cinema, Meyer certainly respects the Cristeros’ sacrifices. Recommended for open minded cineastes, The Last Christeros screens again next Wednesday following (5/30) as part of this year’s Seattle International Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on May 24th, 2012 at 1:08pm.