Category: Movie Reviews

By Joe Bendel. Janusz Korczak was like the Polish Dr. Seuss, Dr. Spock, and Father Flanagan combined. He was born Henryk Goldszmit—a name that would prove fatal during the National Socialist occupation. Master Polish director Andrzej Wajda became one of his first filmmaking countrymen to forthrightly address the Holocaust, following the brave example of his protégé and frequent screenwriter Agnieszka Holland with 1990’s Korczak, which is now available on DVD and Blu-ray from Kino Classics.

Korczak/Goldszmit devoted his life to children. He was a popular children’s author and radio broadcaster, whose show was rather summarily canceled in the late thirties for sadly obvious reasons. Though removed from the public eye, Korczak continued to serve his beloved children as the benevolent headmaster of a progressive orphanage. A gentle gentleman by nature, Korczak loyally served as a doctor in the Polish Army, but nobody would have mistaken him for a military man. Yet, as the Germans marched through the streets, he refused to relinquish his uniform when so many others did. As viewers soon see, Korczak always did things the honorable way—the hard way.

Part of the agony of Korczak is watching the good doctor and his associates refusing to believe the situation is as bad as viewers know it is. Of course, the scale and systemization of the National Socialist death machine still remain hard to process. Yet, by 1942, enough escapees had sent word back to the ghetto that most of the involuntary residents would have a general idea what to expect from the concentration camps. Nonetheless, despite offers of counterfeit papers, Dr. Korczak refuses to leave his children. He had no use for one fake passport. He would need over two hundred.

Many have identified Korczak as a significant inspiration for Spielberg’s Schindler’s List. Shrewdly, the DVD cover prominently displays his unqualified endorsement. While both films profile heroic individuals, Korczak has absolutely no sentimental uplift to placate shallower viewers. It ends as it ended. Nonetheless, Wajda, again filming a Holland screenplay, ventures into more expressionistic territory in his final scene, perhaps representing idyllic afterlife not so strongly defined in the Judaic tradition Korczak never closely identified with (a stylistic decision Wajda took some heat for at the time of its initial release).

Wojciech Pszoniak gives one of the defining performances of the immediate post-Communist era. Yes, the Korczak viewers initially meet seems impossibly kind and virtuous. Yet, as the doctor endures pain and humiliation for the sake of his charges, Pszniak makes his anguish vividly clear.  Being a saint is trying burden.

Korczak also boasts a talented ensemble cast of pre-teen actors. Their complex relationships with each other feel very real and human. Conversely, those of Korczak’s colleagues are not as well established. Still, Ewa Dalkowska has some touching moments as Stefa Wilczynska, a former Korczak alumnus, who returned from the safety of “Palestine” to assist the doctor and his children during their hour of need.

Robby Müller’s black-and-white cinematography is absolutely arresting. Its influence on Schindler is unmistakable. Despite the deliberate lack of on-screen horrors, it is a draining film to watch. It is also exactly the sort of story that would have been impossible to depict under the recently deposed Communist regime, which had steadfastly relegated the Holocaust to the Orwellian memory hole. Along with his visceral Katyn, Korczak represents an important burst of creative truth telling from Wajda and Holland. Highly recommended, it is now on-sale at all major online retailers.

Posted on August 18th, 2012 at 2:40pm.

By Joe Bendel. Prague and Paris have to be two of the most romantic cities in the world. Yet, a mother and daughter have relationship issues in both European capitals. It seems like codependent sexual dysfunction runs in their family in Christophe Honoré’s latest movie musical, Beloved, which opened Friday in New York.

Beloved opens in swinging sixties Paris, as Honoré revisits his acknowledged Jacques Demy influences. It is like a fairy tale, in which shopgirl Madeleine falls in love with Jaromir, one of the prostitution clients she sees on the side. It’s a French fairy tale. After Jaromir completes his specialized medical studies, she moves to Prague with him, becoming his wife. Soon, the hotshot doctor acts like he also has a license to philander, but his wife refuses to recognize it. Things come to head just as the Soviet tanks start rolling through the streets of Prague.

Madeleine divorces Jaromir but she never gets him out of her system. Even though separated by distance and ideology, he maintains a hold on her, despite her second marriage to an adoring gendarme. It will be a pattern that somewhat repeats for her daughter Vera. Her colleague Clément is devoted to her, but she only has eyes for Henderson, a rock drummer from New York, who happens to be (mostly) gay.

Anyone who has ever considered themselves losers for carrying a hopeless torch will feel much healthier once they watch Vera pine away her life. Initially it is rather uncomfortable, but it gets downright tragic. Beloved is far from your typically bubbly movie musical, but it works better than Honoré’s prior attempt, Love Song, largely because the characters are not as irritating and the situations are less stifling. Beloved can make viewers wince, but it also gives them air to breathe.

Honoré walks quite a tightrope, using perhaps the two greatest post-war tragedies, the 1968 Soviet Invasion of Czechoslovakia and September 11th, as backdrops for his mercilessly intimate drama. Honoré focuses exclusively on the micro level, where painful personal conflicts continue unabated, even when the wider world is turned upside down. Nonetheless, some of the “internal contradictions” of post-Prague Spring Czechoslovakia are duly noted and images of the 1968 invasion are suitably ominous. Given their visceral nature, the scenes of 2001 Montreal (where Vera’s flight was diverted) are somewhat iffier, flirting with exploitation by mere association.

Happily, Milos Forman never sings in Beloved, but he is perfectly cast as the old charmingly degenerate Jaromir of 2008. In contrast, Honoré alumnus Chiara Mastroianni handles her husky vocal features fairly well and keeps viewers vested in her angst far more compellingly than in his outright maddening Making Plans for Lena. Her real life mother Catherine Deneuve has some nice moments as Twenty-First Century Madeleine, but it is totally the sort of diva-centric character we are accustomed to see her assume. In contrast, Ludivine Sagnier is appropriately spritely as young Madeleine in the early Cherbourg-esque scenes. Louis Garrel (son of Philippe) is his usual sullen screen presence as Clément, but American Paul Schneider is surprisingly engaging as the commitment-phobic Henderson.

As a musical, Beloved works rather well, thanks to some frequently distinctive songs penned by Alex Beupain. They certainly fit the vibe and context of the film (as well as any movie musical tunes ever do) and often serve to advance the story. While it is a bit overstuffed with characters and hoped for significance, it is definitely one of Honoré’s better works. Recommended on balance for Francophiles and those who appreciate moody musicals, Beloved opens today (8/17) in New York at the IFC Center.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on August 18th, 2012 at 2:39pm.

By Joe Bendel. Travel back to pre-Miranda New York. The Civil War has turned for the Union, but social strife remains a constant fact of life. For the accused, there is no right to remain silent. “Start talking or start praying” Det. Kevin Corcoran tells one uncooperative witness, cocking his pistol. There is a certain elegant simplicity to this direct approach. In fact, interrogations are probably the only straight forward part of police work in Copper, BBC America’s first original (non-imported) dramatic series, which premieres this Sunday night.

Corcoran bravely served the Union Army, only to find his young daughter murdered and his wife missing upon his return home. In 1864, the primary responsibility for a cop like Corcoran is collecting the Captain’s payoffs. While his personal investigation is his primary interest, the brooding officer tries to do some legitimate police work here and there, since he has the gun and badge. During the course of the first two episodes, Corcoran becomes understandably emotionally invested in the case of a young girl murdered by a sexual predator. Corcoran will risk his life and career to protect the victim’s twin sister from the uber-connected suspect. Fortunately, he will have some help from Five Points’ finest prostitutes.

Much of Copper is indeed set in that neighborhood so squalid, it no longer exists. The morally ambiguous Morehouse family, with whom Corcoran has some complicated history, expects to be the ones to profit from this anticipated urban renewal project. Meanwhile, Manhattan’s African American community is moving north. This includes Dr. Matthew Freeman, the only competent doctor in New York willing to act as Corcoran’s secret pathologist. As one might expect, the thorny racial relations of competing Irish immigrant and free African American communities take center stage in the third outing.

Granted 1864 was a tough year in our nation’s history, but Copper seems to take perverse glee in reveling in New York’s degradation. Nor does it even attempt to disguise its overt class warfare. At least in episodes one and two, the wealthy are not just venal robber barons – they are also largely pedophiles.

Despite the heavy handed social commentary, Copper works well on the procedural level. MI-5’s Tom Weston-Jones is refreshingly hardnosed as the relatively honest anti-hero. It appears Copper will not be about solving mysteries per se, but figuring out how to dispense justice within a corrupt system. That is actually a potentially rewarding twist on the police drama that worked so well for the cool but canceled Zen.

Weston-Jones and co-writer-creators Tom “Oz” Fontana and Will Rokos compellingly establish Copper’s lead protagonist in the first three installments, but the supporting characters still need a bit of fleshing out. Of course, that is not uncommon at this stage. They have ten episodes to work with, after all. Still, Tanya Fischer’s Molly Stuart, the you-know-what with a heart of at least semi-precious metal, seems to warrant keeping an eye on.

There is some real potential in Copper. It is an impressive period production and when justice is served, it is served satisfyingly cold. Yet, it risks overdoing the Jacob Riis progressive tut-tutting in the early stages, already showing a tendency to fall back on clichéd stock villains. Engaging but uneven, Copper is an easy choice while Masterpiece Mystery is rerunning Inspector Lewises, but it may have a hard time holding its audience when Wallander returns. Whether it continues to develop and make good on what appears promising remains to be seen. Regardless, Copper begins this Sunday (8/19) on BBC America.

Posted on August 18th, 2012 at 2:38pm.

By Joe Bendel. Humans anthropomorphize. It is a very human thing to do, especially for objects that move on their own accord. One retired burglar will find himself doing just that with his assisted living droid in Jake Schreier’s very near future Robot & Frank, which opens this Friday in New York.

Frank Weld did not exactly get away scot free, but he is still living out his golden years in complete liberty. Unfortunately, his memory lapses are getting progressively worse. His establishment son Hunter is worried, because concern is what he does best. In contrast, New Age daughter Madison sees no evil when she calls in from exotic backwaters like Turkmenistan. Hoping to reverse his father’s slide, Hunter brings him a robot to help with the household chores and keep the difficult senior on a regular schedule.

Of course, Old Man Weld initially thinks little of his robot helper, nor does his kneejerk Luddite daughter. However, when the former burglar realizes the robot has a knack for things like lock-picking, he has a dramatic change of heart. He also has a perfect target: the oily hipster overseeing the conversion of his beloved library into some sort holographic monstrosity.

Having a purpose seems to do wonders for his mental state. He even starts seriously putting the moves on Jennifer, the librarian he always tentatively flirted with. Needless to say, though, the caper turns out to be a bit more complicated than expected.

Essentially, R&F is an intimate character study with some decidedly gentle SF elements (despite winning the Alfred P. Sloan Award for addressing themes of science and technology in indie film at this year’s Sundance); in other words, neither Frank the character (who is quite well read) nor Schreier is interested in exploring the implications of the singularity, at least not in this film. Yet though Schreier’s style is never all that showy, his restraint serves the material rather well. In fact, a late revelation packs considerable punch precisely because of its understated treatment.

Likewise, Frank Langella never overplays his hand, conveying his namesake’s vulnerabilities and self-doubt in quiet but effective moments. James Marsden does his best work perhaps ever (which is not saying much, with Lurie’s Straw Dogs remake relatively fresh in mind) as the understandably exasperated son. As Jennifer the librarian, Susan Sarandon makes the most of what initially appears to be little more than an extended cameo, but unfolds into something much more significant. Even Liv Tyler is not totally awful as daughter Madison (though “good” would still be pushing it).

Smartly written by Christopher D. Ford, R&F leaves viewers without complete closure, in a way that will ring true for families that have gone through similar experiences as the Welds. A sensitive, only slightly speculative film, Robot & Frank is easily recommended for general audiences (particularly librarians, robotics engineers, and thieves) when it opens this Friday (8/17) in New York at the Angelika Film Center downtown and the Paris Theatre uptown.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on August 14th, 2012 at 10:00am.