Author: Joe Bendel

The Iranian New Wave: LFM Reviews The Lost Cinema

By Joe Bendel. In a bitterly ironic twist of history, the filmmakers associated with the Iranian New Wave helped usher into power the regime that would continue and intensify their oppression. Politically conscious and aesthetically adventurous, the movement essentially came to an end with the 1979 Islamic Revolution it fueled. Jamsheed Akrami’s The Lost Cinema surveys these films that remain largely unseen within Iran, essentially serving as a series overview when it screens as part of the Asia Society’s latest retrospective series, Iranian New Wave 1960s-1970s.

Much like the Asia Society’s series, Lost Cinema starts with Dariush Mehrjui’s The Cow, a film secretly submitted to the Venice Film Festival, where it won the Critics’ Award. Sound familiar? Probably what made Merhjui’s film so politically incorrect was its depiction of abject rural poverty at a time when the Shah was trumpeting Iran’s modernization. Of course, it is easy to understand why the portrayal of the deceitful secret policeman in Parviz Sayyad’s Dead End continued to be banned under the Revolutionary Islamic government.

Likewise, a tale of allegorical repression and revolution such as Bahman Farmanara’s Tall Shadows of the Wind became even more radioactive. Even an ostensibly apolitical documentary like Manouchehr Tayyab’s Religions in Iran remained on the outs after the revolution. A kind of visual essay comparing and contrasting the religions officially sanctioned by the Shah (Islam, Christianity, Judaism, and Zoroastrianism), it more or less placed all four on equal footing. Right, one can see how that would be a problem with the new bosses.

From "The Lost Cinema."

Although everyone loathes admitting it, the Shah’s rule comes off sounding comparatively less monolithic than that of the Ayatollah. After all, these films were largely funded by the government, which reportedly enjoyed the international prestige they generated. The filmmakers and state agencies seemed to be engaged a strange dance of denial, but after the Revolution (and what one filmmaker describes as an initial “four months of freedom”) artistic freedom was curtailed even more severely than before. Indeed, the fact so many of the featured filmmakers were interviewed in exile speaks volumes.

While Akrami only examines a small number of films in detail, he includes representative features, shorts, and documentaries. In some cases, the analysis can be a bit spoilery, but they also provide specific cultural context for a fuller appreciation of each film. It is a lucid introduction to some heavily allegorical films. Recommended for students of film and Persian culture, The Lost Cinema screens this Friday (11/8) at the Asia Society, with Akrami participating in a Q&A afterwards. (As a side note, New Yorkers may also want to catch series curator La Frances Hui appearing on CUNY-TV City Cinematheque to discuss Tran Ahn Hung’s Scent of Green Papayas.)

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on November 4th, 2013 at 6:40pm.

The Origin Story That Just Won’t Die: LFM Reviews The Birth of the Living Dead

By Joe Bendel. It came from Pittsburgh. That is where George A. Romero had carved out a business shooting television commercials for local clients. Of course, he harbored filmmaking ambitions. Eventually, his upstart debut would revolutionize horror cinema, spawning all kinds of controversy and imitators. Yet, at the time, Romero was not at all certain he would be able to complete production and post on the now classic The Night of the Living Dead. Rob Kuhns goes straight to the source for his behind the scenes look at the making and legacy of the zombie classic in The Birth of the Living Dead, which opens this Wednesday in New York at the IFC Center.

It has been over forty years since the original Living Dead was first released with little fanfare in an old school midtown grindhouse theater. Despite uniformly negative reviews (from the few critics who even bothered to cover it), Romero’s classic took on a life of its own. In fact, the entire city of Pittsburgh had already sort of rallied behind it, perhaps inspired by local late night creature feature TV host Bill Cardille’s weekly drumbeat of publicity (you can spot him late in the film as the newsman interviewing the sheriff). During production, the police department provided helicopters free of charge and many of Romero’s customers appeared as zombies.

One of the cool things about Birth is the way Romero vividly remembers each and every extra. Those who have seen the film countless times will be fascinated to learn how many cast members also performed crucial functions off-screen. Romero’s co-producer Russell Streiner (instantly recognizable as Barbara’s ill-fated brother) emerges as a particularly resourceful figure. Kuhns also includes an endearing stinger-tribute to the late Bill Hinzman, the first zombie who chases her into the farmhouse.

Visually, Birth is also fan-friendly, featuring Gary Pullin’s distinctive comic art to illustrate various stages of the production. It will further reassure diehards to know the doc comes via Glass Eye Pix, with Larry Fessenden on board as both a talking head and executive producer.

In a bizarre turn, Birth periodically visits a Bronx middle school, where a teacher uses Night of the Living Dead as part of his “Literacy through Film” course. Yes, this is a classic film with considerable subtext, but showing graphic depictions of cannibalism in the classroom is wholly inappropriate. Evidently, “de-sensitize them early” is the Board of Ed’s motto. Only in New York.

Kuhns is on stronger footing examining the wider cultural significance of Night. According to Romero, Ben the central POV character, was not originally written as an African American, but Duane Jones just nailed the audition. Nonetheless, the added implications of the final scene would have been hard to miss, especially since Romero was consciously incorporating images of 1960’s civil strife.

If you are a mature adult, at least old enough to vote, you really ought to be familiar with Night of the Living Dead. While Birth offers some shallow general political analysis of the late 1960’s, it specifically contextualizes Romero’s film quite adroitly. Recommended for zombie aficionados who want to deepen their Living Dead viewing experience, Birth of the Living Dead opens this Wednesday (11/6) at the IFC Center.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on November 4th, 2013 at 6:37pm.

LFM Reviews So Young @ The New York Chinese Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. The Deng era is in full swing, so that means China is getting down to business, especially university students. A few still find themselves preoccupied by love, but reality will trump storybook endings in Red Cliff actress Vicki Zhao Wei’s smash hit feature directorial debut, So Young, which opens this year’s New York Chinese Film Festival.

When Zheng Wei first encounters Chen Xiaozheng, there is so much friction, it must be love. Frankly, she is not in the mood for romance. She only enrolled in their civil engineering university to be with her boyfriend from back home. Arriving to discover he has mysteriously dropped out, she carries on as best she can. For the most part, she gets on well with her three roommates, particularly Ruan Guan, a tragic beauty with an equally problematic boyfriend.

After a disastrous first meeting, Zheng initially declares war on Chen, but quickly recognizes her true feelings. Soon she starts pursuing the dirt poor scholarship student in a manner that rather embarrasses both him and her friends. Romance blossoms over time, but it will not last. Upon graduation, everyone splits up, eventually reconnecting years later as dissatisfied professionals in the big city.

From "So Young."

So Young sort of mirrors the college experience, flirting with outright preciousness during its early courtship scenes, meandering somewhat in the immediate aftermath of graduation, but coming together quite powerfully down the stretch. One could think of it as the Chinese St. Elmo’s Fire, but the drama is crisper and more honest, but the soundtrack is not nearly as catchy.

Yang Zishan anchors the film with unexpected grit, vividly illustrating how youthful pluckiness gives way to jaded toughness. She commands So Young, but Mark Chao counterbalances her rather effectively as the ever so reserved Chen. However, the film’s real discovery is Cya Liu as Zheng’s spirited tomboy-ish roommate Zhu Xiaobei, who makes the small but intriguing supporting role something special.

Somehow Zhao shoehorns a barrel full of subplots into a fairly brisk one hundred and thirty-one minutes. She precipitously changes the tone on a dime, but allows good scenes sufficient time to fully play out. Indeed, So Young is a fascinating corrective to Chinese language rom-coms, where love always wins out, such as the All’s Well Ends Well franchise. While not a complete downer, it certainly ends in an ambiguous place, which is cool. If not exactly perfect, So Young’s rough edges are sort of appealing overall. Recommended for fans of good looking melodrama, So Young screens as the 2013 New York Chinese Film Festival’s red carpet opening night selection this Tuesday (11/5) at Alice Tully Hall.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on November 4th, 2013 at 6:33pm.

LFM Reviews Ripples of Desire @ The San Francisco Film Society’s Taiwan Film Days

By Joe Bendel. Public health is a bit iffy on this Ming era floating island. Medical misconceptions will lead to some very bad decisions. Old fashioned passion and jealousy will only compound problems. Love and leprosy are contagious in Zero Chou’s Ripples of Desire, which screens during the San Francisco Film Society’s annual Taiwan Film Days.

White Snow is the most coveted courtesan in the House of Flowers, but she harbors a dark secret shared only with her sister, White Frost. Snow is in the early stages of leprosy. As the sisters contrive ways to withdraw her from daily courtesan life, Frost supplants her as the favorite of their madam. When the commerce-minded Moon discovers the truth, she commands Snow to seduce Wen, the new resident music teacher, to “transfer” her disease to him.

Obviously, it does not work that way. Regardless, Snow is not inclined cooperate, because of her burgeoning feelings for the awkward pedagogue. Meanwhile, Frost plays a dangerous game, spurning the affections of Scarface, her would-be lover-pirate, in favor of the well-heeled, but shallow Sir Li. Whole-heartedly assuming the femme fatale role, Frost concocts a scheme with Li and Scarface’s Master Hai to fake the tea merchant’s abduction, funding their new life with the anticipated ransom. However, Li’s wife, Lady Jen, disrupts the plan, unexpectedly arriving to handle the matter in person. Her courage and beauty make quite the impression on Master Hai, despite his pseudo-relationship with Moon.

From "Ripples of Desire."

Right, there will be no shortage of betrayals in Ripples. Given its cocktail of pirates, courtesans, and leprosy, it is safe to assume there will not be a lot of happily-ever-afters for anyone. Known for her lesbian-themed indie films, Chou branches out into more mainstream commercial territory here. For a historical epic, Ripples is unusually stripped down and small in scope, but the intimate scenes crackle with love and intrigue.

Ivy Chen and Michelle Chen are not actually related, but they certainly look like sisters, just as they did in the relentlessly sweet rom-com Hear Me (a prior Taiwan Film Days alumnus). The former is particularly impressive as the deeply complex Frost, while the latter trembles like a delicate orchid.

Of course, Simon Yam brings the appropriate swagger as Master Hai, but he also nicely ups the tragically romantic ante in his scenes with Li Xiaoran’s Lady Jen. Frankly, he is the MVP amongst the guys, easily outclassing pop star Jerry Yan and TV star Joseph Cheng.

At times, Chou over indulges the stylization at the cost of narrative clarity, but there is no mistaking the ardor and yearning. Indeed, it jerks the tears quite effectively. Recommended for fans of tragic historical romance, Ripples of Desire screened yesterday at the Vogue Theatre, as part of the SFFS’s Taiwan Film Days.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on November 4th, 2013 at 6:30pm.

The Belgian Bluegrass Oscar Submission: LFM Reviews Broken Circle Breakdown

By Joe Bendel. He has a lot of facial hair, she is covered in tattoos. They are Belgian, but old time American roots music, particularly bluegrass, tells their painful tale. There will be banjos and tears in Felix van Groeningen’s The Broken Circle Breakdown, Belgium’s official foreign language Oscar submission, which opens today in New York.

As a single chap, Didier just puttered about his once grand country house when not performing with his bluegrass band. That was how he caught the eye of Elise, a tattoo artist with more personal ink than the general population of San Quentin. What starts out as a physical thing evolves into something musical when she joins the band as a vocalist. While actress Veerle Baetens’ voice is not showstopppingly powerful, she still sounds quite haunting performing Elise’s old school standards, like “Wayfaring Stranger.”

Eventually, Elise gets pregnant. After Didier’s brief freak-out, they settle into an idyllic family life together, until five year-old Maybelle is stricken with cancer. Elise and Didier try to keep it together for her sake, but the wheels are clearly coming off their relationship.

You might think a family tragedy like Circle would have no political axe to grind, but you would be wrong. Van Groeningen’s adaptation of lead actor Johan Heldenbergh’s stage play retains his “reason vs. faith” themes, presenting them in the most simplistic manner possible. Frankly, there is already widespread confusion regarding the differences between adult, amniotic, pluripotent, and the controversial embryonic stem cell treatments, but Circle does its best to muddy the waters even further.

Arguably, a case could be made Didier’s foaming-at-the-mouth outbursts of aggressive atheism undermine his character’s position, but that does not make them any more pleasant to sit through. Indeed, his utter inability to offer his daughter any form of spiritual reassurance is hard to buy. You just have to wonder why scene after scene made it to the final cut. Then they start singing and suddenly the film makes sense again.

Van Groeningen might only do one thing right throughout Circle, but he rather brilliantly uses song to express his characters’ inner turmoil. When Didier and Elise perform “If I Needed You,” it cuts to the bone. This could definitely be a case of the soundtrack eclipsing the source film’s popularity, as it just so happened for O Brother Where Art Thou?

Baetens and Heldenbergh sound great together on the bandstand and are uncomfortably real together, both in the throes of passion and when emotionally torturing each other. Young Nell Cattrysse is also quite compelling, giving some flesh-and-blood dimension to the ailing Maybelle.

The music and fundamental drama of Circle are so powerful, it is a shame the film has such an ADD compulsion to express a wider macro-level significance. Van Groeningen and Heldenbergh should have placed more trust in its micro essence. When it consents to jerk tears, it gets them flowing good, which is why it cannot be counted out in the foreign language Oscar derby. The Broken Circle Breakdown is a messy film, but it has its moments. Recommended with reservations for hardcore fans of bluegrass and Flemish cinema, it opens today in New York at the Landmark Sunshine.

LFM GRADE: C+

Posted on November 1st, 2013 at 12:17pm.

LFM Reviews Forever Love @ The San Francisco Film Society’s Taiwan Film Days

By Joe Bendel. It was known as Hollywood Taiwan and it sure was fun while it lasted. From the mid 1950’s to early 1970’s Taipei’s Beitou District was home to a scrappy Taiwanese Hokkien dialect film industry, until the big Mandarin change-over was mandated from above. The Beitou Roger Cormans cooked up about a thousand films give or take, but only two hundred have been properly preserved for posterity. The golden age of Hollywood Taiwan is fondly remembered in Aozaru Shiao & Kitamura Toyoharu’s nostalgic screwball rom-com Forever Love, which screens during this year’s edition of the San Francisco Film Society’s Taiwan Film Days.

Liu Chi-sheng was once the busiest screenwriter in Hollywood Taiwan, because scripts needed to be turned out fast. Volume was more important than nuance. Hardly anyone remembers his films anymore, but his granddaughter Hsiao-jin used to have her own private screenings at his now shuttered revival house. She has come to visit him in the hospital where he is recuperating from an athletic misadventure. In the mood to reminisce, Liu reveals to her how he came to marry her now Alzheimer’s-stricken grandmother, Chiang Mei-yeuh.

It all started with a characteristically goofy James Bond rip-off called Spy No. 7. When it opens to packed houses in Taipei, Liu’s boss, “Mr. Pig” orders him to write the sequel, Spy No. 7 on Monster Island, once again featuring the lovely but cold Chin Yueh-feng and the arrogant heel, Wan Pao-lung, Hollywood Taiwan’s superstars of the moment. Like so many young women of her age, Chiang has a massive crush on Wan. Despite a bad case of stage fright, she has a few advantages over her competition at the poverty row studio’s open casting call. She has genuine charisma and the right surname. Liu also takes an interest in her career, even though they start out on awkward terms, as is always the case with rom-coms.

It will be a great romance, culminating in a big tear-jerking finale, because anything else would not be true to Hollywood Taiwan. Along the way, there are plenty of double takes, miscommunications, and flat out pratfalls in Forever, but the film has a romantic soul. Indeed, Shiao and Kitamura (who also appears as Liu’s hard partying art director crony) make no secret of their affection the old Taiwanese cinema, reveling in its gleeful energy and love for love.

With gloriously silly black-and-white sequences and kiss-me-you-fool fireworks, Forever Love proudly empties its kit-bag for the sake of audience satisfaction. It is a rather endearing antidote for cineaste cynicism, steadfastly avoiding irony in favor of unrepentant romanticism. Granted, characters rattle all over the film like pinballs, but there are surprisingly touching low key moments too, such as those exploring young Liu’s relationship to the studio’s boozy veteran director and old Liu’s scenes with his granddaughter, a well cast Li Yi-jie, who looks and sounds like the spitting image of her grandmother Chiang in the 1960’s.

Lung Shao-hua brings Herculean dignity to the grumpy old Liu, enlivening the contemporary framing scenes. Blue Lan is a bit bland as his younger analog, but former pin-up model Amber An is sweetly innocent yet undeniably Betty Boop-ish as the younger Chiang. As Wan, Edison Wang hams it up like a champ, while Tien Hsin brings a bit of subtly to Chin, the ice queen.

Coincidentally but fittingly, Forever screens as part of Taiwan Film Days just as the former San Francisco International Film Fest selection Golden Slumbers opens in New York at the Anthology Film Archives. Davy Chou’s documentary is a moving elegy to a lost cultural legacy: the Cambodian cinema almost completely destroyed by Khmer Rouge. While Forever Love is far more upbeat and sparkly (thanks to Patrick Chou’s bold, candy-colored cinematography), it still wistfully honors the spirit and enterprise of Hollywood Taiwan. Recommended for those who love old school movie romances and the wonderfully idiosyncratic craftsmen who made them, Forever Love screens Saturday night (11/2) at the Vogue Theatre during the SFFS’s Taiwan Film Days.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on October 31st, 2013 at 11:04am.