Category: Narrative

By Joe Bendel. As a former firefighter, Jeon-mo was briefly famous for saving a group of children. Even though he now runs a florist shop, he still likes to think of himself as one of the good guys. However, when his daughter is abducted, her captor’s ominous demands will push him to his breaking point and fundamentally shake his comfortable self-image. Instead of ransom, Jeon-mo is instructed to kidnap another child to exchange for her in Yoo Won-sang’s Guardian, which screens this Tuesday as part of the free Korean Movie Night series at New York’s Asia Society.

Jeon-mo and his wife are generally happy managing their shop and running a singing telegram business on the side. He dotes on his bratty young son and frets over his older sister as she approaches middle school years. Initially, a strange caller claims to have snatched their son, but it turns out the cruel game-player actually has their daughter. After stringing Jeon-mo along on a ransom drop that never happens, the kidnapper final reveals his real demand. Jeon-mo is to take a very specific little boy who will be at an appointed place at a certain time and wait to swap him for his daughter.

Given no choice by the kidnapper, Jeon-mo is forced to take the frightened boy to his home for the night. He was already feeling profoundly guilty, but matters get even more complicated when his son recognizes the boy as one of his classmates. However, Yoo has an even more sinister twist in store for viewers.

Kidnapping thrillers tend be rather murky affairs, but Guardian takes its long dark night of the soul to new levels of blackness. Characters in the film do some truly awful things, but it is difficult to pass judgement, given their circumstances. Perhaps most disturbing is what happens when they try to do the right thing. Still, Yoo does not leave the audience completely bereft of consolation, but he hardly ties the film up a neat sentimental bow.

It is pretty unsettling to watch Jeon-mo fall from a position of domestic tranquility and rectitude to utter desperation and self-loathing, but Kim Su-hyeon makes every step believable and painfully compelling. Likewise, Lee Joon-hyeok is quietly forceful as another player caught up in the game. However, the genuinely terrified-looking performances from Yoo Hae-jeong and No Kang-min as the young respective victims are what will really disturb viewers.

Guardian is a tough film with a decidedly dim view of human nature, but it reflects an uncompromising aesthetic vision from Yoo in his impressive feature directorial debut. He grabs the viewers by the lapels and drags them through the film at breakneck speed. Still, his decision to hint at but never fully explain the kidnapper’s motive is a mistake. After what he puts us through, he owes us some answers. Nevertheless, those who can digest a thriller marinated in bile will be impressed with his chops. Recommended for emotionally strong fans of Korean cinema, Guardian screens (for free) at the New York Asia Society this Tuesday (3/31), co-presented by the Korean Cultural Service.

Posted on March 31st, 2015 at 3:33pm.

By Joe Bendel. It was one of the worst cases of mass murder and ethnic cleansing in recorded history, yet the world never demanded the guilty be held to account. At least 590,000 Estonians, Lithuanians, and Latvians met a premature death as a result of the Soviet WWII era occupation of the Baltics and the resulting mass deportations to Siberia. While many would prefer to ignore the Communist crimes against humanity for ideological reasons, the testimony of survivors like Erna Nagel were an inconvenient indictment of the socialist system. To commemorate the victims, Martti Helde has adapted Nagel’s Siberian diary (written in the form of letters to her beloved husband Heldur) as the extraordinary cinematic hybrid In the Crosswind, which screened during the 18th Annual European Union Film Festival in Chicago.

Nagel’s domestic life with Heldur and their six-year-old daughter Eliide was so blissful, it blinded her to the mounting Soviet danger. Tragically, when the Red Army arrives, Heldur Nagel is one of the first to be rounded up, since he is a member of the Estonian Defense League. He and his colleagues will be sent directly to a gulag, where they will be tortured for months and then executed without trial. Erna and Eliide will be sent to a work camp in Siberia, where Estonian women are forced to perform slave labor. Food rations are meager and only given to adults who meet their quotas. Estonian children like Eliide get nothing (so much for “each according to his need”). Having already contracted dysentery in the over-crowded cattle car that took them east, Eliide will slowly expire from disease and starvation, while Nagel is helpless to comfort her.

Nagel’s own words will tell her story through Laura Peterson’s sensitive voiceovers, but during her period of Siberian exile, they are accompanied by a series of thirteen black-and-white frozen tableaux, in which Helde suspends time for his cast, amid their snarls and cowering. Realized in excruciating detail, cinematographer Erik Pőllumaa slowly surveys each living picture, often revealing greater horrors as his perspective changes. These are not freeze frames, because the wind and elements, as well as ambient noise and background chatter waft through Helde’s carefully composed images. It is a bold aesthetic strategy, but Crosswind cannot be called non-narrative filmmaking, because Nagel’s entire life unfolds through the narration.

While Nagel’s before and after scenes in Estonia are more conventionally live action in their execution, the tableau vivants constitute the guts of the film. Eerily effective, they preclude any possible melodramatic excesses, distilling the essence of the terror and dehumanization of the Communist prison camps and collectives. As Nagel, Peterson does more than hold her poses. Her deeply expressive face speaks volumes and her voiceovers reach into the soul.

There are not a lot of precedents for Crosswind. In some ways, its vibe is somewhat akin to that of German’s Hard to be a God or Majewski’s The Mill and the Cross, but Helde’s film hits viewers on a deeper, more primal level. It is also more urgently topical, given Russian imperialist expansionism in Georgia and Ukraine. This is an exceptional work of cinematic craftsmanship that is viscerally chilling and hauntingly arresting. Very highly recommended, In the Crosswind screened at the Siskel Film Center as part of this year’s Chicago edition of the EUFF.

LFM GRADE: A+

Posted on March 30th, 2015 at 11:00pm.

By Joe Bendel. One problem with off-the-books building projects is they make it dashed difficult to come clean when trouble goes down. The same is doubly true of secret affairs. A hot shot real estate developer, his fiancée, and his somewhat estranged best friend will learn these truths first hand over the course of a long fateful night of the soul in Ozan Açiktan’s Consequences, which screened during the 2015 New York Turkish Film Festival.

Cenk was once deeply involved with Ece, but he hasn’t seen her since his stints in rehab and trying to find himself in America. He thought he could handle seeing her again, but evidently not. She is now engaged to his old pal Faruk, who is putting up the architectural designer in a building he is illegally renovating in the gentrifying neighborhood of Karaköy. After an awkward meeting at Faruk’s party, Cenk beats a hasty retreat, but Ece soon follows. It does not take long for things to get hot and heavy, before they are inconveniently interrupted by a pair of intruders, who turn out to be two of Faruk’s undocumented laborers. One thing leads to another, resulting in the older man tumbling down the stairs and cracking his head.

To protect Ece, Cenk sends her off into the night, facing Faruk by himself. The developer and his lawyer Merve quickly take charge of the situation, hoping to minimize everyone’s exposure. It seems Faruk does not have the required permits or even a clear title to the property. Merve also smells something fishy about Cenk’s story, but she doesn’t have much time to worry about it. Unfortunately, the situation escalates precipitously when the man’s companion returns with about a dozen of his belligerent colleagues.

Açiktan and his co-writers, Cem Akas and Faruk, Ozerton, do a nice job keeping one darned thing happening after another. Reportedly, the noir thriller is under-represented in Turkish cinema, especially those that are sexually charged to any extent, but they have crafted a distinctly stylish one. It is also rather intriguing to speculate about its beyond-the-screen meaning in an increasingly Islamist and less secular Turkey. On one hand, faithlessness holds potentially dire consequences, so to speak, for the characters. Yet, we sort of get the sense the film regrets Cenk and Ece were not able to get more sinning in before the situation started spiraling out of control. The film also resists class conscious interpretations, depicting the outraged workers in unflattering, thuggish terms.

Ilker Kaleli and Nehir Erdoğan are all kinds of angsty as Cenk and Ece, respectively, but Tardu Flordun really steals the show as the roguish Faruk. He might be insufferably arrogant and a corrupting influence on everyone around him, but it is hard to root against such a colorful figure. Likewise, Esra Bezen Bilgin matches him step for step as the shrewd and cynical Merve. It is nice to see a Turkish film that features a woman as its smartest character, by far.

Ahmet Sesigürgil’s noir cinematography looks terrific and Açiktan perfectly captures the sketchy urban after hours vibe. Everything about this film screams that it will end badly, but it is still entertaining watching matters plummet from bad to worse. Recommended for fans of assignations-gone-wrong thrillers in the Fatal Attraction tradition, Consequences screened at the SVA Theatre as part of this year’s NY Turkish Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on March 30th, 2015 at 10:59pm.

By Joe Bendel. Dental issues are an occupational hazard for trumpeters. That’s why Louis Armstrong always recommended they develop a singing voice—to save on the chops. Unfortunately, David Johnson has more than his share of health concerns. Just when he starts booking gigs as a bandleader, his resurgent epilepsy threatens to permanently end his career in Neil Creque Williams’ short film David’s Reverie, which screened as part of the shorts program at BAM’s 2015 New Voices in Black Cinema.

During the first big club date Johnson books for his band, he collapses on stage. He thought his childhood surgery was supposed to prevent such seizures, but apparently it was not as successful as he hoped. Of course, the attending physician prescribes some medication, but Johnson fears the side effects that dulled his spectacular technique in the past. How much can he risk for the music—and will it be worth it?

Clocking in at about twenty minutes, Reverie is a real jazz drama rather than a narrative that uses jazz trappings for seasoning. Johnson’s arguments with his father about the relative importance of technique versus “feeling” really cuts to the core of jazz. Johnson has tons of Marsalis school chops, but he has yet to find his uniquely expressive voice. Williams has a strong, holistic understanding of the issues and challenges surrounding the music. You have to wonder if he is somehow related to Neal (with an “a”) Creque, the soul jazz organist and keyboard player. Regardless, it is always a good sign when a film has a jazz consultant (Supa Lowery Brothers in this case).

Brandon Fobbs (a former regular on The Wire) is terrific as Johnson. He has the sharp, Wynton-esque “Young Lions” look down cold, but also connects on a deeper level, expressing Johnson’s insecurities and resentments. His scenes with Mark E. Ridley as his musician father and Channing Godfrey Peoples as the band’s saxophonist are as good as anything you’ll see in any award-trolling feature.

Reverie will resonate for anyone who knows someone struggling to make it on the jazz scene. It is a very human and humane film that once again reminds us life is not fair. Highly recommended, David’s Reverie screened at BAM, as part of the New Voices in Black Cinema short film program.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on March 30th, 2015 at 10:59pm.

By Joe Bendel. The UniverSong competition is like Pop Idol, but more nationalistic. Israel has never placed highly, despite their assiduous but counterproductive efforts. However, this year they might have an outside chance when six Tel Aviv neighborhood friends are unexpectedly tapped to represent their country—provided they stay true to their own voices in Eytan Fox’s Cupcakes, which opened last Friday in New York.

Based on the Eurovision Song Contest (which Israel has participated in since 1973), UniverSong is a big deal to for Anat, the bakery owner (care to speculate as to what her specialty might be?). Unfortunately, her husband’s sudden decision to abscond to Thailand puts a damper on her viewing party. The massive egg laid by Israel’s contestant does not help either. To cheer her up, five neighbors sing her an improvised “Sun Will Come Up Tomorrow” style ditty. It actually sounds pretty good thanks to her friends’ heart and the acoustic guitar accompaniment of lesbian alt-rocker Efrat.

In fact, it sounds so good, out-and-proud school teacher Ofer submits his cell phone video to the UniverSong equivalent of the Israeli Olympic committee, who decide to think outside the box and select the amateurs. The presence of former beauty queen turned business woman Yael probably did not hurt. Of course, everyone but Ofer is initially reluctant to participate for their own reasons, but eventually all but Dana, the press secretary to the Orthodox minister of culture, comes around. Even Keren, the shy blogger (is there really such a thing?) signs on for the contest. Unfortunately, the national organizers are determined to make them as cheesy as Israel’s last crash-and-burn competitor.

If you enjoy compulsively upbeat Israeli pop, your film has arrived. It is all very poppy and peppy and candy-colored, but audiences will be hard pressed to remember much by the time the closing credits stop rolling. Yet, Cupcakes is significant in one respect. It paints a vibrant portrait of Israel’s diversity and tolerance.

Everyone knows Ofer and Efrat are gay and lesbian, but that does not stop anyone from rooting for him. Ofer is matter-of-factly entrusted with the nation’s young skulls full of mush, frequently putting on drag shows for his appreciative charges—with no protests. Even his difficult romance with the closeted son of the Israeli UniverSong sponsor is a decidedly low stakes issue. One of the Israeli UniverSong organizers says “we are proud of our proud contestants,” lamenting they did not have an Arab member, as well. Of course, that is hardly likely to happen given said gay and lesbian band-mates.

The cast convincingly come across like comfortable friends with years of shared history together. Their casual moments together feel right. Actress-model Yael Bar-Zohar brings surprisingly rich subtlety and maturity to her ex-Miss Israel namesake, whereas Ofer Shechter over indulgences in shtick as his flamboyant namesake. Separately, Dana Igvy, Keren Berger, and Anat Waxman are a bit dull as their namesakes, but they click as an ensemble.

Fox and co-writer Eli Bijaoui manage to sidestep the worst possible clichés in the third act, but they are not afraid of a little sentimentality either. It is a pleasant but hardly essentially look at contemporary Israel’s inclusiveness. Recommended for fans of Fox’s previous box office hits and Babydaddy from Scissor Sisters (who wrote the “Song for Anat”), Cupcakes opened last Friday (3/27) in New York, at the Quad Cinema.

LFM GRADE: C+

Posted on March 30th, 2015 at 10:13pm.

By Joe Bendel. He was born into a Maronite Catholic family and wrote his best known work in English, but Kahlil Gibran was subsequently embraced as a symbol of Arab culture. Without question, his best known work is The Prophet, arguably the original break-out New Age bestseller, whose celebrity admirers include Elvis Presley, John Lennon, and Salma Hayek. Her regard for the instantly recognizable Knopf title was such that she produced a big screen animated adaptation of the book few would have thought adaptable. The ambition and animation are definitely impressive, but the source material remains unwieldy in Roger Allers’ Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, which screened during this year’s New York International Children’s Film Festival.

In order to give the film a central storyline, Allers took some liberties with the framing device. The exiled prophet Mustafa (here more of a hipster painter and poet) is indeed bidding a fond farewell to the citizens of Orphalese, but he will not simply hop on the tall ship and sail off into the sunset. The oppressive Pasha and his thuggish police sergeant are planning permanent measures to halt his progressive influence before they let him go anywhere. The resulting narrative is like a weird passion play, with the assorted peasants in the countryside and merchants in town celebrating his presumed release with much feasting and drinking. At each stop along the way, Mustafa gives the crowd a pithy bit of prose poetry wisdom impressionistically rendered by a diverse roster of animators.

No longer is Almitra a seer. She is now the rebellious mute daughter of Kamila, the widowed housekeeper hired to tidy up the prophet’s exile cottage. Sharing a connection with the island’s seagulls, she is the first to suspect the fate awaiting Mustafa. Presumably, these liberties taken with the text pass muster with the Gibran establishment, given their active role in the production.

Regardless, the film as a whole is necessarily uneven, since Allers and Hayek-Pinault (as she is billed here) deliberately embrace its episodic structure. Not surprisingly, the best sequences are “On Love” animated by Tomm Moore (Song of the Sea) and “On Marriage” crafted by Joann Sfar (The Rabbi’s Cat). The abstract nature of the texts are also particularly well suited to the styles of Nina Paley (Sita Sings the Blues) and Bill Plympton (Cheatin’). However, the other four parables largely blend together.

Following in the footsteps of Richard Harris’s Arif Mardin-produced musical interpretation of The Prophet, Liam Neeson continues the Irish Gibran tradition as the voice of Mustafa. To be fair, his husky, reassuring tones are rather well suited to the film. Hayek-Pinault is perfectly serviceable as Kamila. (Since she is once again playing a mother facing difficult circumstances, Prophet should really be considered a companion film to Everly and the two should be screened together whenever possible). Quvenzhané Wallis gets precious little actual dialogue as Almitra (but perhaps that is just as well), while Alfred Molina does his best to keep up with the slapstick humor directed at his pompous Sergeant.

Whatever you do, always observe the authorial possessive in the title, like “Bram Stoker’s Dracula.” Although the film’s cultish impetus is a little creepy, it is intriguing to see such a high profile attempt at impressionistic, non-narrative animated filmmaking. Unfortunately, some of the contributing filmmakers are better suited to the task than others. A strange hybrid, Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet is recommended for animation enthusiasts who want to see something a little outside the norm (whereas younger viewers will probably find it indulgently lecture-y) when it screened as the closing film of the 2015 NYICFF.

LFM GRADE: C+

Posted on March 27th, 2015 at 12:48am.