Category: Narrative

By Joe Bendel. For centuries of human history, more battles have been fought over water than probably any other natural resource. Apparently, Gwyneth Paltrow’s brother only recently discovered the strategic value of water, but he is duly impressed. Unfortunately, viewers will find an entertainment drought in Jake Paltrow’s Young Ones, which opened Friday in New York.

Ernest Holm was once a farmer, but his parched land is almost as arid as the characters he encounters. Following some sort of vaguely defined environmental disaster, Holm and his socially underdeveloped son Jerome eke out a modest living selling supplies to the knuckle-draggers working for the corrupt water works in the mountains. Flem Lever (a name everyone says with a straight face, to their estimable credit) covets Holm’s trading business and his eternally distant daughter, Mary. Despite Holm’s rugged manliness, the pretty boy Lever still manages to kill him in the desert, framing his new pack mule android for the murder most foul.

Of course, it takes Jerome quite a while to suspect Lever, because intuition hardly runs in the family. Ironically, Lever is much better suited to reversing the family’s fortunes, given his devious nature and ruthless follow-through. Nevertheless, little Jerome will get himself some payback when the time is right.

Ernest Holm is the sort of role Michael Shannon was born to play, but sadly that is the only bit of casting that makes sense in Young Ones. A slow burning brooder like Shannon should be counterbalanced with someone who can project and maybe even chew a bit of scenery. Instead, for Holm’s sort of grown children, Paltrow calls on Kodi Smit-McPhee and Elle Fanning, two of the mousiest screen thesps you will ever come across. Watching them shuffle around the farm makes the films of Bela Tarr look like madcap romps.

Without question, Young Ones’ MVP is cinematographer Giles Nuttgens, who also lensed Perfect Sense, an infinitely superior apocalyptic allegory. He gives the parched vistas the proper John Ford treatment, but unfortunately he does not have much else to shoot in terms of narrative or characters. Unremittingly dull, yet also pretentious, Young Ones is a would-be futuristic western genre-bender that completely melts down. Not recommended for anyone, it opened Friday (10/17) in New York at the Village East.

LFM GRADE: D-

Posted on October 20th, 2014 at 9:21pm.

By Joe Bendel. Sherman tanks such as the one Sgt. Don “Wardaddy” Collier commands were like portable Alamos. During WWII, American tank crews suffered staggering losses to Germany’s superior armored forces, but they could still do a lot of damage before their number came up. Essentially, that was also the strategy of the fanatical German remnants, who refused to recognize National Socialism’s imminent defeat. Instead of a march to victory, a new post-Normandy addition to Collier’s crew will have the mother of all fiery baptisms in David Ayer’s Fury, which opens tomorrow nationwide.

For years, Collier has beat the odds, somehow bringing his men safely through each battle. Unfortunately, his luck, or at least his machine-gunner’s, has just run out. For a replacement, he is stuck with Norman Ellison, a transfer from clerical services, who could not possibly be anymore naïve. In contrast, the German-speaking Collier has no illusions about the nature of war or the enemy they face. His tank, “Fury,” is indeed aptly named, reflecting his general attitude, particularly when it comes to the SS.

Of course, Ellison will take plenty of not-so good-natured ribbing from his new brothers-in-arms: Boyd “Bible” Swan, the token fundamentalist, Trini “Gordo” Garcia, the token Hispanic, and Grady “Coon-Ass” Travis, the token sociopathic jerkweed. When the rookie Ellison makes a mistake that leads to the death of another crew, Fury becomes an even more tense and awkward place to be. However, Collier is determined to make a stone cold killer out of Ellison, one way or another. The process might even involve a fair amount of climatic heroics.

Frankly, Fury’s first act is a tonal traffic accident, designed to shock us out of our supposed “jingoism” and rub our noses in the war crimes committed by the Greatest Generation. We see a lot of Collier dispatching surrendered Germans, until some script editor apparently noticed the film was making the Nazis look sympathetic. As a result, the second act is a sort of war crimes poker game played out between Collier and the SS, in which battlefield executions are called and raised with strafed civilians.

It is a darned shame Ayer wastes so much time trying to be hip and revisionary, because when Fury gets down to the a-man’s-gotta-do-what-a-man’s-gotta-do action, it is pretty spectacular. The early battle scenes are certainly tense and brutal, but they also clearly and dramatically establish the mechanics and dynamics of armored combat. They are all well staged, but the big centerpiece showdown-conflagration is an instant classic. (Sensitive viewers should be warned: there are graphic scenes of limbs severed by all manner of projectiles and explosives.)

Without question, Fury features the best tank-fighting sequences ever staged on film. Unfortunately, the further they get from the Sherman M4, the shakier the film gets. As a case in point, an overly long sequence in which Swan, Travis, and Garcia crash a quiet moment Collier and Ellison are trying to have with two German women makes no sense within the film’s dramatic context.  They are supposed to fear and revere Collier, but they are acting like knuckle-dragging savages, just to make the audience hate them.

Nevertheless, Brad Pitt gets down to business quite effectively and efficiently as Collier. He is one of the few contemporary American screen actors with genuine movie star presence, but he is still completely credible playing a grizzled hardnose. Shia LaBeouf is also surprisingly flinty as Swan, so his reported self-mutilation did not go to waste. As Ellison, Logan Lerman also brings more grit and substance to the table than one might expect. Conversely, Jon Bernthal’s Travis is all bug-eyed shtick, while Michael Peña’s Garcia has really no distinguishing personality traits whatsoever.

There is a real disconnect between the extraordinary armored combat scenes and Ayer’s problematically erratic screenplay. Flirting with moral equivalency, he keeps telling us war is Hell when he is not blowing stuff up real good. Still, Pitt and the awesome warfighting scenes are just enough to carry the day. Recommended for fans of war movies, Fury opens wide tomorrow (10/17), including the AMC Loews Lincoln Square in New York.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on October 16th, 2014 at 2:40pm.

By Joe Bendel. It is a quite a story of social mobility, especially for Tenth Century Japan. Of course, it is a folktale, but it is considered Japan’s oldest surviving narrative (even predating The Tale of Genji). It inspired adaptations from the likes of Kon Ichikawa, but the lush, budgets-be-damned Studio Ghibli treatment may very well come to be recognized as the definitive big screen production of “The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter.” Representing most likely the penultimate release from the storied studio, Isao Takahata’s The Tale of Princess Kaguya opens this Friday in New York at the IFC Center.

One day, Okina, the stout-hearted bamboo cutter, discovered a miniature princess dressed up in regal finery within one of the shoots he had chopped. Taking her home to his wife Ona, the precious princess transforms into the infant they never had. Miraculously, Ona discovers she is still able to nurse the baby they presume to be heaven-sent. “Princess,” as Okina simply calls her, grows up quickly, soon maturing to the level of the nearest children, who affectionately call her “Bamboo.” She loves the simple pleasures of nature and the company of her rambunctious friends. However, Okina believes his faith in her royal destiny is vindicated when he discovers miraculous caches of gold and silk in yet more fateful bamboo shoots.

Okina uses the gold to build a palatial estate in the capitol, buying his way into elite society. Unfortunately, his worldly ideas of happiness are at odds with her more spiritual conceptions. Despite her love for her adopted parents, Princes Kaguya, as she has been officially dubbed, consistently foils his plans to codify her royal status. Eventually, her ensuing unhappiness will have cosmic repercussions.

It is hard to imagine another animated film prominently featuring a princess that is as likely to frustrate young Frozen fans as Princess K surely will. It is an extraordinarily elegant, visually arresting film, but it is also exquisitely tragic, unabashedly literate, and rich with symbolic texture. It additionally represents some of accomplished Japanese film composer Joe Hisaishi’s most distinctive work, but the entire film is probably too sophisticated, in an almost rarified way, to garner much Oscar love in any category.

Regardless, Princess K is a stunning example that animation can truly be a work of art. Takahata’s hand-drawn animation evokes the austere beauty of traditional Japanese watercolor, but the resolution and color palate shift to reflect Kaguya’s emotional state. Dramatically, it is a disciplined slow-builder, earning every tear it jerks down the stretch, fair and square.

Frankly, it is easy to get stuck on the ethereal beauty of Princess K, but there is an awful lot going on beneath the surface. Kaguya represents a refreshingly independent-minded and psychologically complex princess, particularly during the Heian era. Arguably, it is also the first science fiction story ever, taking into account Kaguya’s full origin, which is only revealed late in the third act. It is easily the best new animated film of the year, unless you also count Hayao Miyazaki’s Studio Ghibli release, The Wind Rises (which had a brief Oscar qualifying run late last year). Very highly recommended for mainstream audiences as well as animation enthusiasts, The Tale of Princess Kaguya opens this Friday (10/17) at the IFC Center, with special preview screenings scheduled for tonight and tomorrow night.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on October 15th, 2014 at 9:10pm.

By Joe Bendel. During WWII, Sweden’s official neutrality was not always pretty. Yet, despite the calculated concessions granted by their government, some Swedish diplomats became heroes for their courage and compassion. For his efforts rescuing tens of thousands of Jewish Hungarians, Raoul Wallenberg vanished to the world while in the custody of the Red Army. However, Raoul Nordling was awarded the Croix de Guerre for convincing Gen. Dietrich von Choltitz not to raze the city of Paris as he withdrew his forces. Some historians question that narrative, but Cyril Gely chose to print the legend in the stage play he and Volker Schlöndorff have now adapted for the screen. A very French drama plays out between the Swedish diplomat and the German officer in Schlöndorff’s Diplomacy, which opens this Wednesday at Film Forum.

Choltitz was one of the few old school Prussian officers not fatally embroiled in the Valkyrie Plot against Hitler. Although he often had profound misgivings, he always followed his orders, at least thus far. With the Allies rapidly approaching, Choltitiz is supposed to blow up key points of infrastructure, leaving the city in smoking wreckage. All the charges are set, but Swedish Consul Nordling has furtively slipped into Choltitz’s converted headquarters in a luxury hotel, using a secret passageway designed for Royal assignations. Before morning breaks, Nordling will try to convince and cajole Choltitz to disregard his orders, allowing Paris’s great cultural and architectural treasures to survive the war.

Essentially, Diplomacy is a one-set two-hander (with a few subordinate offers and a shanghaied engineer walking through from time to time), but the stakes could not be higher. It is a great chess match premise, but even though the narrative is completely stacked in Nordling’s favor it is Choltitz who emerges as the far more compelling dramatic figure.

As played by the ever reliable André Dussollier, Nordling is the suave diplomat arguing on the side of the angels. In contrast, Choltitz is a pricklier individual. Although he remains an inspirational figure for his rank-and-file, he is clearly troubled by the atrocities he duly participated in. Redemption always makes good movie fodder, but there are pressing reasons for Choltitz to acquiesce to madness dictated from above, which he will eventually reveal to Nordling.

Dussollier plays the diplomat with instantly credible intelligence and sophistication. Nonetheless, Niels Arestrup does all the heavy lifting and should earn the majority of critical laurels for his work as Choltitz. While he is a rough bull of a man, he conveys the multitude of internal conflicts roiling inside him.

The maybe-not-quite-as-leftwing-as-he-used-to-be-Merkel-supporting Schlöndorff opens up the film as best he can, but a certain amount of staginess is unavoidable—and perhaps even desirable for such a claustrophobic one-on-one. He maintains a good deal of tension, treating both the concerns of history and his main characters quite fairly. It is a good, solid film that makes one wonder why his thematically related Calm at Sea has yet to land an American distributor. Recommended for patrons of French cinema, Diplomacy opens this Wednesday (10/15) at New York’s Film Forum.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on October 14th, 2014 at 7:46pm.

By Joe Bendel. Even in laidback Australia, cops are still cops. It’s not like they’re issued a Fosters along with their gun and badge. A drunken driving incident could cost a good copper like Det. Mal Toohey everything, but the subsequent cover-up will have even greater implications in Matthew Saville’s Felony, which opens this Friday in New York.

Toohey’s long planned drug raid was a spectacular success. The only wrinkle was the slug he took in the vest. Hailed as a hero, he spent the night celebrating with his colleagues. Unfortunately, he clips a cyclist on the way home. As a decent person, Toohey immediately calls it in, but plays the role of witness rather than an involved party. As it happens, veteran detective Carl Summer and his goody-two-shoes new partner Jim Melic are on patrol nearby. After a quick private caucus with Toohey, Summer molds his story into something that will fit the scene.

Obviously, this is not an incident Summer wants to revisit, but Melic cannot let it go, in part due to his attraction to the comatose boy’s Indian mother. While Summer ought to be able to bluff and bully him into line, Toohey starts complicating matters with his inconvenient guilt-tripping.

Written by co-star Joel Edgerton (the future Uncle Owen in the next batch of Stars Wars prequels), Felony is a cop story long on angst and short on firearms discharge. It is a good vehicle for Edgerton’s brooding chops, but Tom Wilkinson really steals the show as Summer, the darkly complex veteran. He is truly one of the best in the business. Wisely, as Toohey and Melic, Edgerton and Jai Courtney go the quiet, understated route, rather than try to compete with the wonderfully acerbic persona Wilkinson creates. In contrast, the women in Felony do not have much to do, but at least Melissa George gets one good scene as Toohey’s concerned wife.

Saville skillfully contrasts the nocturnal noir vibe of the detectives’ world with the disorienting sunshine of regular life. Felony’s themes and conflicts are not exactly undiscovered territory, but they provide plenty of grist for the talented co-stars to dig into. It is a solid cop morality play that gets a further boost from Wilkinson’s crafty presence. Recommended for fans of the cast and supporters of Australian cinema, Felony opens this Friday (10/17) in New York at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on October 14th, 2014 at 7:46pm.

By Joe Bendel. Xiao Hong became a patron literary saint for Chinese leftists, but she was often done wrong by her comrades, particularly those she was romantically involved with. She was one of the first to give voice to China’s peasantry, but her later work became increasingly less political, despite the wars ravaging Republican China. Her short life and problematic loves are dramatized in Ann Hui’s intimate epic The Golden Era, which opens this Friday in New York.

Xiao never had an easy existence, despite being born into a land-owning family. Her mother died at an early age, leaving her and her protective grandfather at the mercy of her physically and emotionally abusive father. Rebelling against an arranged marriage, Xiao tried to elope with the man she thought she loved, only to find herself abandoned in a financial lurch. This pattern will repeat itself, but with subtle variations.

Soon, Xiao takes up with her colleague and savior Xiao Jun, who is initially quite taken with her beauty and talent. Yet, the latter becomes an issue when she is recognized as the superior writer. They will come together and break apart several times, while great macro-geopolitical forces sweep across China.

Like most of their milieu, the unrelated but profoundly linked Xiaos are drawn to Mao’s Reds, but for different reasons. Xiao Jun seeks to compensate for his literary failings as a revolutionary, whereas Xiao Hong feels personal loyalties to comrades such as the thoroughly radicalized Ding Ling. Of course, since Xiao announces her ultimate death right at the start of the film, her ever declining health obviously portends a suitably tragic end, but she will experience the Japanese invasion and yet another ill-fated love affair first.

Considering the politicization of Xiao’s legacy, the ideological agnosticism of Hui’s film is rather remarkable. In fact, it comes at a particularly interesting time, with students and capitalists alike taking to Hong Kong’s streets to protest for genuine democracy. Nevertheless, it has been chosen as Hong Kong’s official Academy submission for foreign language film (appropriately it will also screen next month as part of the San Francisco Film Society’s annual Hong Kong Cinema series).

More than anything, Golden Era is a deeply personal woman’s story that happens to be set against a sweeping historical backdrop. In many ways, it is reminiscent of Stanley Kwan’s Center Stage, covering a similar time period and periodically using characters as third wall-breaking commentators. The film even takes on further meta-significance with the casting of Tang Wei as the “scandalous” Xiao, given the Chinese film authorities’ rumored obstructions to her career in the wake of her controversial sex scenes in Ang Lee’s Lust, Caution.

Regardless, Tang perfectly balances Xiao’s delicate sensitivity and pseudo-proletarian grit. There are plenty of screen actresses who could supply her beauty, but she also credibly conveys Xiao’s intelligence. It is her film and she makes it work from start to finish. Still, Feng Shaofeng delivers some of his best work yet, bringing out real human dimensions in Xiao Jun, rather than playing him as a simple cad or a revolutionary stock figure. However, amongst the large cast of supporting characters, only Ding Jiali stands out as their stately literary benefactor, Lu Xun.

Clocking in sixty seconds under the three hour mark, Golden Era could arguably stand a bit of a trim, yet the third act still feels a bit rushed. Frankly, it just seems like the dramatic spark dims when Xiao and Xiao separate. Nevertheless, they supply the guts of the film and they are definitely worth seeing. Recommended for fans of historical dramas, The Golden Era opens this Friday (10/17) in New York at the AMC Empire, via China Lion.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on October 14th, 2014 at 7:45pm.