Category: Watch Movies!

By Joe Bendel. Those wondering just how much Jackie Chan has shifted his focus from Hong Kong to the Mainland need only look at the evolution of his hit Police Story franchise. What started as comedic action romp revolving around Chan’s Royal Hong Kong Inspector Chan Ka-kui is now a moody thriller-morality play that might just break its anti-hero-ish Beijing Police Captain Zhong Wen. Chan is older and wearier, but it is still nearly impossible to keep the old cat down in Ding Sheng’s Police Story: Lockdown, which opens this Friday in San Francisco.

Old Zhong is already nearly done in when meets his daughter Miao Miao at a hipster night club. Their relationship has been strained since her mother died. Frankly, this get-together is not even her idea. She agreed to set-up the meeting to humor her older pseudo-lover, the club owner Wu Jiang. In retrospect, that was a mistake.

When he comes to, Zhong learns in no uncertain terms he and his daughter, along with twenty-some other patrons and employees are hostages in Wu’s concrete fortified club. Thanks to his modifications, it will be hard for Zhong’s colleagues to shoot their way in. Instead of ransom, Wu offers a baffling ultimatum, demanding small time criminal Wei Xiaofu be brought to the club. Zhong was the responding officer who arrested Wei, so this case is clearly personal, especially since several witnesses to the incident (in which a young girl died) are among Wu’s other captives.

Frankly, Zhong blames himself so much, he just might be the only cop Bill de Blasio would approve of. Needless to say, the events of that fateful night are considerably murkier than Wu realizes, but rightly or wrongly, Zhong still carries around a mountain of guilt. Lockdown is a drastic departure from its predecessors (arguably, this is more of a title appropriation than a reboot), but it is still a reasonably effective showcase for Chan’s mature acting chops. Yes, there is still more spring in his step than most fifty-nine year olds, but the centerpiece action sequence mostly involves him getting pounded by Wu’s Filipino henchman.

While Chan and Jing Tian forge some respectable father-daughter chemistry, the latter is never given a chance to exercise the monster action skills she displayed in Special I.D., which is a most unfortunate lost opportunity. It is a real shame, because most genre fans would be totally psyched to watch the extremely telegenic newcomer fighting side-by-side with the old rubber-boned veteran.

Although Liu Ye was impressively fierce as the Emperor in The Last Supper, he is frustratingly bland as the tortured and tormenting Wu. Despite their diverse nationalities, none of the secondary villains are distinctive to any appreciable degree either. However, Zhou Xiaoou adds a surprising potent element of pathos as the sad sack Wei.

Everyone will duly note Lockdown’s “Die Hard in a night club” concept, with liberal elements of Lethal Weapon’s Sgt. “Too Old For This” Murtaugh thrown in for good measure, but its borrowings were maybe not be so conspicuous in its target market. That is fair enough, considering Hollywood’s magpie tendencies. In fact, it is a slick looking production, thanks to the metallic neon set design and Yu Ding’s noir-ish cinematography. The weak bad guys are a drawback, but action fans will still enjoy watching a new and largely credible outing from Chan. Recommended for his fans, Police Story: Lockdown opens this Friday (6/5) in San Francisco at the 4-Star Theatre and in Los Angeles at the Arena Cinema.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on June 3rd, 2015 at 2:47pm.

By Joe Bendel. To celebrate the opening of his life story’s big screen treatment, Brian Wilson recorded a new rendition of the title song with a group of school children to benefit the music education nonprofit, Little Kids Rock. Happily, Wilson is now in a position to give back. It was not always so. This was not due to a lack of willingness, but more fundamental mental health issues and the unscrupulous psycho-therapist who swooped in to exploit him. Both Wilson’s struggle to re-establish control over his own life and his musical virtuosity are dramatized in Bill Pohlad’s Love & Mercy, which opens this Friday in New York.

Unfortunately, reports that Wilson stayed in bed for two or three years were more or less true. He had very real (but treatable) mental health challenges, including depression and schizophrenia. Of course, that made it considerably easier for a charlatan like Dr. Eugene Landy to dominate every aspect of his existence. Utilizing a split time line, Pohlad cuts back a forth between the initially heady days of the Pet Sounds studio sessions and the tightly regimented Landy years. It is not hard to spot at least one of the root causes of Wilson’s depression. That would be his domineering and dismissive father Murry.

To its credit, L&M is not all about the Landy scandals and a pat triumph over adversity. The best scenes of the film—by far—follow Wilson recording Pet Sounds’ instrumental tracks with the Wrecking Crew session players. Frankly, it is cool to see those often uncredited veteran sidemen get their due in a film besides their own wildly entertaining documentary. In a lovely little supporting performance as legendary drummer Hal Blaine, Johnny Sneed becomes a personable, drily witty Obi-Wan figure for Wilson. Clearly, Pohlad and screenwriters Oren Moverman and Michael A. Lerner get the significance of everyone involved in those sessions.

In a strange way, Paul Giamatti’s Landy is much like Vladimir Chertkov, the Svengali like historical figure he played in Michael Hoffman’s Tolstoy drama, The Last Station. Having had the practice, he can portray a sinister manipulator better than anyone. Both Paul Dano and John Cusack come across like emotionally stunted man-children as the younger and older Wilson, respectively, but they are duly reflecting reality. Bill Camp also takes a decidedly villainous turn as Murry Wilson, but he stops well short of eye-rolling Mommie Dearest-Ossage County territory. As the spirited girlfriend determined to rescue Wilson, Elizabeth Banks also brings notable energy to an underwritten role, making many somewhat clichéd moments admirably watchable.

Frankly, the entire film is a good deal better than the tabloid-driven TV movie it might sound like. Not everyone in the Beach Boys’ world will appreciate it, most likely including Mike Love, who as played by Jake Abel, comes across as a real hit-craving jerkweed—but that’s his business. As a film about musicians and the debilitating effects of mental illness, it is quite smart and honestly rendered. Recommended for fans of Brian Wilson, the Wrecking Crew and Cusack (in his most presentable film in years), Love & Mercy opens this Friday (6/5) in New York, at the Chelsea Bowtie and the AMC Village 7.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on June 2nd, 2015 at 1:05pm.

By Joe Bendel. Last year’s Cannes Film Festival was rough for Tim Roth. First Grace of Monaco was roundly booed when it opened the festival and then FIFA’s self-funded film was even more harshly received. The timing for what has been universally described as a “propaganda film” continues to be so awkwardly bad, you have to wonder if a higher power is out to sabotage it. Mere days after fourteen high-ranking FIFA officials were indicted, Frédéric Auburtin’s United Passions opens this Friday in New York.

It all started innocently enough. A group of European football association presidents joined forces, in hopes of codifying standardized rules for international matches. Much to their regret, the mean old English initially refused to join out of elitist snobbery, or so Auburtin suggests. At least for a few years, it was run without controversy by first president Robert Guérin and general secretary Carl Hirschmann, but the fast and loose dealings commenced with the election of Jules Rimet. Uruguay had pledged to spend liberally on the inaugural World Cup, and ever so conveniently the member associations voted accordingly.

To an extent, United Passions (a title that sounds like it was the ill-conceived product of a marketing brainstorming session) throws long time FIFA president João Havelange under the bus. He is constantly apologizing to his long suffering general secretary Sepp Blatter for mistakes that were made and the mysterious emptiness of FIFA’s coffers, but the film never explains what’s, why’s, or how’s. Instead, the altruistic Blatter simply cuts a personal check to cover FIFA’s payroll.

There is a certain degree of irony whenever Russia’s favorite son, Gérard Depardieu appears in a sports film, but that is the least of Passions’ problems. In fact, he is perfectly presentable as the reportedly not so athletic Rimet. On the other hand, Sam Neill would probably prefer to forget the baffling, vaguely South African accent he uncorks for the Brazilian Havelange. Looking visibly embarrassed, poor Tim Roth tries to call as little attention to himself as possible as Blatter, the unassuming crusader against corruption. At one point, St. Sepp (who Havelange praises for “being good at finding money”) stands accused of his predecessor’s misdeeds, but defends himself with what must be the dullest, drabbest climatic speech in the history of cinema. It doesn’t matter, the fix was in.

Passions commits enormous sins of omission, but its worst oversight is the lack of dramatic development. We see little more than vignettes illustrating “great” moments in FIFA history, interspersed with World Cup montages and hackneyed scenes of a pick-up game in some racially balanced third world slum designed to clumsily illustrate the game’s unifying global significance. However, there is not a lot in terms of character or plot for viewers to sink their teeth into. Instead, we hear Blatter identify a problem, which he then presumably solves since we hear nothing about it four years later.

As if the weak narrative and conspicuous white-washing of FIFA’s corruption were not bad enough, the film displays an outrageous bias against the English, time and again featuring British characters making ridiculously racist statements. This simply is not a film that deserves to be taken seriously on any level. However, it is precisely the big screen treatment Blatter and FIFA deserve. Hopefully, they are happy with it, since they paid for it.

Indeed, this is truly a Blatter production. It is a staggeringly arrogant, insular, and tone-deaf work that assumes the rest of the world is stupid. Compared to Passions, See You in Montevideo and Montevideo—Taste of a Dream, the unapologetically sentimental, patriotic, and generally pleasant Serbian films about the first Yugoslavian World Cup teams are like the best of Rocky, Bull Durham, and Chariots of Fire all rolled together. Not recommended, United Passions opens this Friday (6/5) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: F

Posted on June 2nd, 2015 at 1:05pm.

By Joe Bendel. Human life gets cheap in a hurry for those who treat people like cargo and charge by the head. For some considerable time, a trafficking ring has operated with de facto impunity ferrying desperate clients across Slovenia’s alpine border with Italy. Not all of their customers make it safely across. An honest Slovenian cop and an unknown subject with a grudge aim to stop the gang in Claudio Noce’s The Ice Forest, which screens as part of Open Roads: New Italian Cinema 2015.

As the early 1990s prologue makes clear, the human trafficking ring operating out of the high mountain power plant will ruthlessly kill to serve its interests. Another body has just turned up in the present day. Unfortunately, the powers that be are not especially concerned about a dead Libyan asylum seeker, so Lana, a Slovenia detective, only has a matter of days to conduct her undercover investigation, posing as a zoologist tracking bears. She is not the only stranger in town. Pietro “the Grease Monkey” has been dispatched to fix the town’s frequently malfunctioning generator.

Most of Pietro’s down time will be spent with the Brazil-obsessed Lorenzo, the brother of the intense looking Secondo, who clearly runs the hardscrabble community in an unofficial godfather kind of way. Lorenzo promises to take Lana up to the power station, so she can snoop around closer to the source. Unfortunately, he will not be able to keep their date, or any others, ever again.

It is easy to forget Italy and Slovenia share a border, since we rarely think of the former in a Balkan context. However, familiarity with the Balkan War and the subsequent uneasy peace will help the audience better understand some of the tragic events that unfold. The fact that some characters are Serbian and some are Bosnian is probably not accidental.

Of course, any thriller fan will appreciate the grandly cinematic Kolovrat Range. Unfortunately, Noce and co-screenwriters Francesca Manieri and Elisa Amoruso are not exactly the cleverest suspense plotters to come down the mountain. Astute viewers should be able to figure out the big reveal just by doing some quick math in their heads. However, the understated nature of the film’s twists and turns is somewhat distinctive. This is especially so of the big action centerpiece, in which Lana’s cable car is stranded in the middle of nowhere, so she matter-of-factly starts shimmying down an emergency cable, as you do.

Russian actress Kseniya Rappoport, looking world weary and appropriately wary is about as glamorous as Ice gets, which is not very. Regardless, she is easy to buy into as a resourceful and principled copper. Domenico Diele somewhat stands out as the only cast member not buried under a rat’s nest of facial hair, but he creates some real heat with Rappoport. Controversial Serbian filmmaker Emir Kusturica chews plenty of scenery as Secondo while Adriano Giannini gives the film a taste of eccentricity as the hard to pigeon-hole Lorenzo.

Technically, Ice is a first class noir that looks great and sounds somewhat unnerving thanks to Michele D’Attanasio’s strikingly severe cinematography and Ratchev & Carratello’s western-influenced score. Arguably, it is only really Noce who needs to work on his thriller mechanics. Notable for its immersive sense of place and keen awareness of recent history, Ice Forest screens this Thursday (6/4) and Sunday (6/7), at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s Opens Roads.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on June 2nd, 2015 at 1:04pm.

SuperBob teaser #1 from Grain Media on Vimeo.

By Joe Bendel. He is sort of like a British Ralph Hinkley (The Greatest American Hero), except Robert Kenner has a much better handle on his powers and much less of a life. Maybe, just maybe, he can have a reasonably grown-up date with a bombshell fan on his day off, if politics and international crises do not preempt him in Jon Drever’s SuperBob, which screens during the eighteenth Dances With Films, in Hollywood, California.

Kenner (a.k.a. SuperBob) is not really a superhero. He is a civil servant, supervised by a new division of the British defense ministry. Sure, he does superhero stuff, but he has to have everyone he saves fill out annoying paperwork afterward. His handler Theresa Ford keeps poor Kenner on a short leash, but it is not like the Peckham resident has much going on in his life. Just ask Dorris, his dismissive part-time Colombian housekeeper.

The documentary film crew following Kenner will give her plenty of opportunities to dish on her socially awkward boss (but wisely, Drever is not slavishly faithful to the mockumentary format). However, as she helps Kenner prepare for his date with a librarian hottie who would be way out of his league if it were not for his flying and invulnerability, sparks will start to fly between them. Unfortunately, both potential romances will have to be put on hold when Kenner is summoned for a high powered summit with an American senator concerned about unregulated super-heroism.

SuperBob is endearingly amusing when it focuses on Bob’s romantic ineptitude and the things that plague him which we all can relate to, such as reams of government paperwork. However, it falls flat when it tries to score wider satirical points. Everyone knows Americans love superheroes, so the notion of a senator (who oh so coincidentally bears a strong resemblance to Pres. George W. Bush) trying to demonize SuperBob never rings remotely true. At its best, satire takes readily identifiable aspects of reality and twists them for comedic purposes. Arguably, the depiction of Sen. Jackson only really expresses the preconceptions and biases Drever and co-screenwriters William Bridges and Brett Goldstein have tried to project on their straw man.

The clunky political score settling is unfortunate, because it interrupts some rather endearing rom-com chemistry developed between Goldstein and Natlia Tena. After years of Marvel’s more everyman approach to super-heroics and William Katt’s comedic caped-crusading, viewers are well attuned to the private side of superheroes. Nevertheless, there is something decidedly charming about Kenner’s frustrated devotion to his mother, his shyness around girls, and his pride in his Peckham neighborhood. Frankly, it is a shame they didn’t have him around during the 2011 riots.

Featuring Doctor Who’s Catherine Tate as Ford and Laura Haddock from Da Vinci’s Demons as June the librarian, SuperBob should be able to count on heavy geek interest. In fact, it is quite enjoyable when it is not trying to make statements. Recommended for fans of slightly rough-around-the-edges superhero comedies, SuperBob screens tomorrow (6/3) as part DWF18.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on June 2nd, 2015 at 1:03pm.

By Joe Bendel. Let’s face it, the terrorists are way more unified than we are. When there is an opportunity to strike a blow against the ever-tolerant West, they will put aside doctrinal differences to make it happen. In contrast, our intelligence and law enforcement agencies are much more concerned about politics, turf management, and general career CYA-ing. At least that is the timely picture that emerges in James McTeigue’s Survivor, which opens today in New York.

Kate Abbott has only been stationed in London for five months or so, but it is clear the Foreign Service security specialist is really good at her job—too good, in fact. When she discovers Bill Talbot, the head of the visa department, has personally intervened to admit several dubious chemical specialists into the country, he quickly arranges to have her killed in a bombing, along with the rest of the visa section. Naturally fate dictates she will be away from the table at the critical moment. That means the assassin, a veteran terrorist known simply as “the Watchmaker” will have to finish her off personally, spy-versus-spy style.

Of course, suspicion immediately falls on Abbott, with the American ambassador and Inspector Paul Anderson, the Scotland Yard point man, being especially obtuse about it all. Only Sam Parker, the senior political officer, believes in her glaringly obvious innocence. Unfortunately, as the Yanks and the Brits chase Abbott, the Watchmaker and his allies have an open field to finish the last stages of their grand WMD conspiracy.

Having helmed the radical favorite V for Vendetta, it is rather odd to see McTeigue associated with a film that considers the mass murder of innocent civilians a bad thing—one to be avoided if at all possible. The credit is probably due to screenwriter Philip Shelby, who co-wrote the second novel in Robert Ludlum’s Covert One series. There are some flashes of inspiration to be found within, particularly with respects to the disturbing but seemingly unrelated prologue, but the film soon settles into a by-the-numbers “Wrong Man” style thriller. It is also disappointing to see Survivor wimping out in terms of the ultimate villains, who are mere schemers hoping to make a fortune selling short.

However, as Abbott, Milla Jovovich is a surprisingly credible presence. After ten or twelve Resident Evil films, we know she has action chops, but she is also convincing playing a smart, reserved character. A Lindsay Lohan or a Megan Fox just couldn’t carry it off. Strangely though, the film does not fully capitalize on her hardnosed potential, forcing her to be a little damsel-in-distress-y at times.

Of course, Pierce Brosnan is no stranger to international intrigue, but he cruises through Survivor on auto-pilot. It is hard to forget how much better he was as a ruthless assassin opposite Michael Caine in The Fourth Protocol. Still, Robert Forster is reliable as ever humanizing the treasonous Talbot (he has his tragic reasons), but James D’Arcy’s unintuitive Inspector seems to be hinting at every repressed, twittish cliché about British public school civil servants.

To its credit, Shelby’s screenplay acknowledges some important realities, such as the events of September 11^th, which were Abbott’s motivation for her current line of work. Survivor makes a strong case Jovovich has been grossly underemployed by Hollywood, but as a big picture thriller, it is rather routine. Perhaps worth a look streaming or on cable, Survivor opens today (5/29) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: C

Posted on May 29th, 2015 at 9:25pm.