Category: Documentary

By Joe Bendel. She changed the way George Balanchine thought about ballerinas. Essentially, that means she changed ballet. Tanaquil Le Clercq’s life took a unfortunate turn worthy of her tragic characters, but she would have a third act. Nancy Buirski surveys her entire life and art in Afternoon of a Faun: Tanaquil le Clercq, which screens during the 51st New York Film Festival.

A cosmopolitan prodigy, Le Clercq was discovered by Balanchine while she was a difficult student at School of American Ballet. According to her friends, the legendary choreographer first encountering her sulking about the halls after her teacher ejected her from class. Her sophisticated looks certainly caught his eye. Although her height and long limbs were unusual for dancers at that time, Balanchine started tailoring his ballets to her strengths. Soon she was his featured dancer and wife. Then disaster struck.

Ironically, Le Clercq had danced in a special polio-themed March of Dimes fundraiser performance shortly before she was stricken with the disease herself. She would never dance or even walk again. However, she would eventually re-emerge as a teacher at Dance Theatre of Harlem. As for her relationship with Balanchine—it was complicated.

Frankly, it would have been easy for Buirski to cast Balanchine in a villainous light, but Faun is rather remarkable for its evenhanded and forgiving treatment of the dance titan. Taking its lead from Le Clercq’s closest friends, Faun gives him credit for supporting her when she most needed help and eventually re-starting some sort of intimate relationship with his former muse. It was indeed complicated, but maybe not so much for Jerome Robbins, her fair weather ambiguously romantic friend.

Buirski’s sympathetic depiction of Balanchine reflects the humane spirit of film as a whole. While it is eventually destined for American Masters, the elegant and often elegiac dance footage elevates its cinematic-ness. Buirski calls on a relatively small cast of talking heads, but they each clearly knew Le Clercq very well. Perhaps most moving are the remembrances of Jacques d’Amboise, Le Clercq’s partner for many of her defining performances.

Viewers will be surprised at the emotional punch Faun packs. Granted, Buirski follows the tried-and-true documentary filmmaking approach, but she marshals all her elements with considerable style and understanding. The participation of co-producer Ric Burns and project advisor Martin Scorsese should further reassure film snobs. A satisfying viewing experience, Afternoon of a Faun is recommended for dance connoisseurs and anyone with a taste for cultural documentaries. It screens this coming Monday (9/30) at the Walter Reade, as well as the 11th and 13th, as part of the Motion Portraits section of the 2013 NYFF.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on September 27th, 2013 at 3:09pm.

Harry Dean Stanton: Partly Fiction Official Trailer from Adopt Films on Vimeo.

By Joe Bendel. He has some of the coolest credits ever, including Alien, Escape from New York, Red Dawn, Repo Man, and Wild at Heart. However, appearing as himself is a role he is not so comfortable with. As a result, Sophie Huber’s documentary treatment, Harry Dean Stanton: Partly Fiction is a rather impressionistic portrait that opens this Wednesday in New York.

Stanton is not the sort of fellow to sit down in front of a camera and commence name-dropping, but Huber, his friend and colleague, knew that coming in. Foregoing the conventional approach, she scored at least one coup. Up until now, Stanton declined offers to record his traditional vocals and harmonica playing, but she was able to capture many of his intimate performances. Frankly, that alone should constitute a respectable cinematic legacy for Huber.

Indeed, Stanton’s voice is truly mesmerizing on old time favorites like “Blue Bayou,” “Blue Moon,” “Just a Closer Walk With Thee,” and the positively eerie closing rendition of “Danny Boy.” Stanton’s clear affinity for songs of loneliness and loss marries up perfectly with Huber’s portrait of a haunted backwoods Zen master.

Unfortunately, the scenes without music lack the same quiet power. At times, Huber merely tries of soak up the ambiance of Stanton’s life, which gets a bit snoozy. The lack of any standard biographical treatment also occasionally leads to frustration, as when Stanton off-handedly comments on the unforgettable wildness of his years living with Jack Nicholson and hanging with Marlon Brando. Right, we can only imagine.

Huber incorporates some commentary from Stanton’s famous friends, perhaps most notably David Lynch, whom we see visiting with his chum. She also includes some film clips, relying heavily on Wim Wenders’ Paris, Texas, openly inviting audiences to conflate Stanton with his pseudo breakout role.

There are few outright scoops in Fiction, aside from Stanton’s disclosure (now widely remarked upon) that he once dated Rebecca De Mornay, before she made Risky Business and got involved with Hollywood’s favorite Scientologist. Who knew? One gets a sense Stanton guards a treasure trove of such revelations, but Huber never tries to dig them out. Still, the film has a stylishly evocative look, thanks to cinematographer Seamus MacGarvey’s striking black and white sequences.

Huber might leave many of Stanton’s fans scratching their heads, but at least they will know their man can sing. Periodically beautiful, Harry Dean Stanton: Partly Fiction is for diehard fans of Stanton and those who appreciate Americana folk songs when it inexplicably opens this Wednesday (9/11, probably the last date anyone would want to go to the movies) in New York at the Village East.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on September 10th, 2013 at 12:34pm.

By Joe Bendel. Over 300 so-called “Pipeline Babies” have become the new face of Putin’s Russia. Often special needs children, they had already met and begun forming relationships with their presumptive American parents. However, as they waited for the paperwork to be finalized, the Putin regime banned American adoption as the latest salvo in his neo-Cold War. With no realistic prospects of Russian adoption, it is the children who will suffer the most as a result, but looking after the weak and the vulnerable was never the Russian strong man’s priority.

Admirably, the filmmakers behind a new film documenting the complicated adjustment process for three of the final (as of now) Russian orphans adopted by an American family are using the Toronto premiere of their film to shine a spotlight on the Pipeline Baby issue. Masha, Marcel, and Vadim are not Pipeline children, but the Diazes might sometimes wish they were during the rocky course of The Dark Matter of Love, which screens during the 2013 Toronto International Film Festival.

Adopting one child is a considerable undertaking. Taking on three at once is rather daunting. Recognizing the potential challenges (at least on an intellectual level), the Diaz family enlisted scientific help. Dr. Robert Marvin and his associate Nicole Millirin will monitor and counsel the family, reviewing video footage that would become part of this film. Masha is a classic case of the emotionally guarded orphan who erects nearly impenetrable protective walls around herself. In contrast, the younger twins, Marcel and Vadim, indulge in the sort of histrionic acting out also commonly observed in recently adopted children. Altogether, they are quite a handful, leaving the Diaz parents little time for their biological teenage daughter, Cami.

Throughout much of the second act, viewers will be reminded of what they say about good intentions. Nonetheless, Marvin and Millirin offer the family some very constructive feedback. The authoritative Marvin also provides the audience a lucid thumbnail sketch of the evolution of developmental psychology over the last fifty-some years. Looking a bit like Max von Sydow’s sensitive younger brother, Marvin is a reassuring presence who adds quite a bit to the film.

Frankly, the documentary might have benefited from a bit more of Marvin and Millirin. While the Diazes are clearly good people with strong values, ninety-three screening minutes is a long time to spend with them. Indeed, Dark Matter could easily be whittled down to an hour for a later PBS broadcast.

Despite some painful moments, Dark Matter will leave viewers largely optimistic regarding the Diaz children’s future. It certainly never offers any inadvertent justification for Putin’s iron-fisted American adoption ban. Considering Masha and the twins were adopted just before the decree was passed, it is perfectly logical and appropriate for McCarthy and her colleagues to take up the Pipeline Baby cause as part of their awareness campaign. Millirin has even sacrificed some privacy by announcing she happens to be a lesbian adoptive mother, in protest of both the Russian government’s adoption ban and their harsh new anti-gay laws. It is rather incredible how much there is to be alarmed by in Putin’s Russia, such as the continuing persecution of dissenting activists, like Pussy Riot. What a perfect spot to hold the Olympics.

Recommended for those interested in its family development issues, The Dark Matter of Love screens again today (9/9) and Friday (9/13) as part o this year’s TIFF. Concerned viewers can also sign an online petition on behalf of the over 300 affected children here.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on September 9th, 2013 at 3:38pm.

By Joe Bendel. There will be no movie adaptations of The Catcher in the Rye. The terms of J.D. Salinger’s literary trust are quite clear on that score. However, the eagerly anticipated documentary profile of Holden Caulfield’s creator might be the next closest thing, considering how legions of admirers often intimately intertwine the character with Salinger. Shane Salerno takes a remarkably even-handed look at the reclusive author and the events that shaped his life in the simply titled Salinger, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Essentially, most of what you have heard is true. Salinger did not stop writing in 1965. In conjunction with the documentary’s publicity campaign, news of five new Salinger works to be published beginning in 2015 has already been released. Yes, readers might recognize some of the characters, but there is still more to Salinger the man and the film than that.

There are two main threads to Salerno’s years-in-the-making documentary. One explores Salinger the recluse, arguing the author knowingly fueled the mystique that surrounded his withdrawal from public life. Concurrently, Salerno also documents Salinger’s life, including his formative years spent in the army during WWII. Experiencing D-Day, the liberation of Dachau, and the de-nazification campaign, Salinger saw real horrors that he never shook off.

To his credit, Salerno never seeks to defend or condemn Salinger. He simply explains. Given the context of his military experience and painful early romances, viewers can better understand how Salinger became such a figure of thorny complexity. By the same token, Salerno never excuses Salinger’s more problematic behavior, such as his history of pursuing highly impressionable and considerably younger women (girls, really), only to treat them with cool detachment once they commenced a relationship.

Despite the paucity of Salinger photos and video, Salerno constructs a fully balanced, multi-dimensional portrait of the author. He incorporates scores of talking head interviews, but most participants are heard from only briefly. However, Salinger’s former companions (or what have you) Joyce Meynard and Jean Miller have sufficient time to tell their very personal stories. Yet, perhaps the best sequences involve Salinger’s army buddies, with whom he remained on good terms throughout his life.

There are some over stylized flourishes to Salinger, but the early caper-like sequences capturing the attempts of both fans and journalists to track down the elusive writer effectively establish a mysterious mood, thereby setting the stage for the revelations to follow. Always highly watchable, Salerno’s Salinger never feels like it is trying to lead viewers to make any sort of conclusion regarding its subject. Informative and entertaining, Salinger is recommended both for fans of the author and those who appreciative a real life literary tale with a few twists. It opens tomorrow (9/6) in New York at the Angelika Film Center.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on September 5th, 2013 at 9:15pm.

By Joe Bendel. Hallmark ought to start making Manager’s Day cards. The dealings between big name entertainers and their managers are often complex. Saul Holiff was a difficult father, but he managed Johnny Cash’s career with fierce dedication, until the day he tendered his resignation. Discovering his father’s archive, Jonathan Holiff would gain tremendous insight into his father’s relationships with his legendary client as well as himself. Holiff draws upon that trove of primary sources for his documentary, My Father and the Man in Black, which opens this Friday in New York.

As a father, Saul Holiff was often dismissive and demeaning. As a result, his son’s response to his suicide was rather confused. Sometime later, his father’s storage locker came to light. There the younger Holiff would hear his father tell his story, in his own words, left for posterity on his reel-to-reel diary. A born salesman, Saul Holiff fell into promoting concerts in his native Canada. That was how he met the young and relatively unknown Johnny Cash.

Holiff was there, trying his best to cover Cash’s back during the worst of his years of drug-fueled chaos. He was also the one who brought Cash together with June Carter when Holiff recruited a female vocalist for a package tour. However, Cash’s embrace of Evangelical Christianity in the 1970’s clearly chafed Holiff on some level. Still, he did his duty, even appearing as Pontius Pilate in Cash’s Gospel Road, sort of a precursor to Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. (This could be a moving experience for those who watch it start to finish, but the clips Holiff includes suggest it ought to be playing at midnight screenings for lubricated heathens.)

While Holiff the filmmaking son obviously did not set out to burnish Cash’s image, his intimate examination of the Cash-Holiff dynamic might still interest the singer’s fans. To an extent, the doc functions as the revisionist alternative to Walk the Line, but in terms of filmmaking, it is a wildly mixed bag, featuring dubious dramatic re-enactments and far too much of Holiff fils.

Nonetheless, despite the stylistic and editorial missteps, there is an awful lot to engage with throughout My Father. Holiff addresses big picture themes – like paternal legacy, the significance of Judaism for secular Jews such as his father, and the nature of show business – with considerable time and insight.

Eventually, Holiff the filmmaker comes to general terms with Holiff the father. While it is not exactly a rosebud moment, it ends the film in a forgiving spirit. In fact, the film’s messy humanistic vibe is unexpectedly potent. As a film more for documentary watchers than music fans, it might have trouble finding a natural audience, but it has a bit of staying power. Recommended more for those concerned with its issues of family and identity than backstage revelations, My Father and the Man in Black opens this Friday (9/6) in New York at the Quad Cinema.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on September 3rd, 2013 at 12:17pm.

By Joe Bendel. They love their kaiju monster movies in Japan. Perhaps that has prepared Tokyo to live with the aggressive, non-indigenous Jungle Crows that have made themselves at home there in recent years amongst the tall buildings. Japan’s Buddhist and Shinto traditions also help residents find a balance with their winged neighbors. The mega-city’s people and crows inspire John Haptas & Kristine Samuelson’s docu-essay Tokyo Waka, which opens today at New York’s Film Forum.

Crows have long played a role in Japanese culture. Evidently, loud speakers still broadcast a time-honored tune at 5:00, warning children at play it is time to go home with the crows. A recurring figure in art and legend, a crow is even the mascot of the national football (soccer) team. However, these transplants are a crow of a different order. Known to whisk away small mammals, they have forced Tokyo zookeepers to erect protective barriers for their prairie dogs (seriously). They have even been known to take a peck at humans whom they don’t like the looks of.

Although Waka is generally meditative in tone, some of the crow footage is kind of creepy. Haptas and Samuelson speak to residents of all walks of life, who are forced to interact with the black birds. Not surprisingly, some of the most insightful comments come from a Buddhist priest, whose temple goldfish fell victim to one of the brazen crows. He never begrudges them for following their nature. After all, it is all part of the great cycle of life.

We also hear from zoologists, city bureaucrats charged with crow population control, and students who have survived crow attacks. Together they piece together a mosaic of Tokyo. Even with the risk of angry crows, it is an attractively cinematic picture (lovely shot by Haptas and Samuelson), incorporating Shinto shrines and the giant commercial neon signs. The homeless woman representing tent dwellers in the park is a good case in point. While surely there are unfortunate economic reasons for her situation, she seems to have partly embraced the Bohemian aspects of it. Indeed, making the most of a difficult situation is arguably quite compatible with Buddhist and Japanese values.

Quiet and thoughtful, Tokyo Waka is still rather peppier than one might expect. Co-directors-producers-cinematographers-editors Haptas and Samuelson capture some striking images of the city and its crows. Stylistically, it is not unlike Jessica Oreck’s Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo, though it does not have quite the same charm. Running just a tad over an hour, it is certainly easy to digest. Recommended for students of Japanese culture and bird watchers, Tokyo Waka opens today (8/28) at Film Forum, programmed with the bonus short film, Catcam.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on August 28th, 2013 at 12:46pm.