LFM Reviews Night Will Fall on HBO

By Joe Bendel. It was a case of one legendary director replacing another. Billy Wilder was in and Alfred Hitchcock was out, but the project was not a suspense-thriller, like Double Indemnity. It was a Holocaust documentary that was to incorporate devastating footage shot by Allied film crews during the liberation of National Socialist concentration camps. Only years later would a partial, incomplete cut see any sort of meaningful exhibition. However, the British Imperial War Museums have recently reconstructed and restored the intended director’s cut of the bureaucratically titled German Concentration Camps Factual Survey. Yet, there is still more to the story that is finally told in Andre Singer’s documentary, Night Will Fall, which premieres this coming Monday on HBO.

Some Hitchcock completists will be familiar with what was retitled Memory of the Camps when it aired on PBS, but the print was decidedly rough and the final reel was missing. Technically, it had never been completed (a problem the restoration team rectified using the surviving screenplay and cue lists). While it was generally known Hitchcock was more of an advisor than a hands-on director, Singer and company actually make a compelling case his vision largely guided the direction and aesthetic of the planned documentary.

While Hitchcock researchers really should consider it part of his filmography, producer Sidney Bernstein was the man most responsible for its day-to-day production and editing. Unfortunately, he would not see it to completion. With signs of the Cold War already surfacing during the early days of the Occupation of Berlin, the Allies essentially put the project in turnaround. The Americans still wanted a picture to convince Germans of their national guilt, so they recruited Wilder to recut some excerpts into the documentary short subject Death Mills.

As fascinating as the story is, Hitchcock fans will be disappointed he does not factor into Night to a greater extent, but he was only assigned to the project for a month. Nevertheless, they will gain a considerable appreciation for Bernstein, his team of editors, and the brave military cameramen who recorded the nightmarish footage in the first place. Ultimately, it is a tribute to their work, which in many cases left deep psychological and spiritual scars.

There are some dramatic interviews with surviving veterans and the excerpts from the finally finished film are truly horrific. Night also supplies a good deal of explanatory context that ought to be quite familiar to most viewers, but sadly is probably necessary given the declining level of historical awareness among younger generations and the precipitous rise of anti-Semitism abroad. If you have seen the work of Lanzmann and Ophüls, you should already know full well the bigger truths, but there are still telling details to be found throughout.

At just seventy-nine minutes, Night is brisk but surprisingly comprehensive. It also further burnishes Hitchcock’s reputation and gives Bernstein his long overdue acknowledgment. One can imagine it works best screening in conjunction with the restored Factual Survey (as it did at last year’s Berlinale), but it easily stands alone (as it will on HBO). Highly recommended for general audiences and particularly for students of history and cinema, Night Will Fall debuts this Monday (1/26) and repeats on various arms of HBO over the following days and weeks.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on January 23rd, 2014 at 4:05pm.

LFM Reviews Angels of Revolution @ The New York Jewish Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. As envisioned by Alexey Fedorchenko, the real life Polina Schneider is something like the mythical heroines of the French Resistance. She is an action figure and an artist, who can juggle legions of lovers while remaining faithful to her leftist ideology. Unfortunately, her latest assignment will end badly when she tries to win over the indigenous people of western Siberia with avant-garde Soviet art and theater in Fedorchenko’s Angels of Revolution, which screens during this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival.

Schneider has the dash of Amelia Earhart, the crack marksmanship of Lara Croft, and the politicized artistic soul of Simone Weil. Her Soviet masters are confident she can stem the discontent brewing among the Khanty people and perhaps spilling over into the neighboring Nenet. In his infinite generosity, Stalin has built the town of Kazym, complete with a boarding school, where indigenous children forcibly attend classes, but are forbidden from using their native tongues.

To reach their hearts and minds, Schneider and her four male colleagues will build atheist monuments and stage ridiculous pageants. While their revolutionary spirits are willing, it seems their artistic talents are inadequate for the task at hand. If you think you know where this is all heading, you are probably right, but Fedorchenko keeps the bloodshed not wholly off-screen, but mostly confined to the far corner of the field of vision.

It also hardly helps that he does everything possible to chop and dice his narrative, incorporating needlessly whimsical intertitles and injecting highly stylized interludes. This is a fascinating yet under-reported historical incident that would be better served by a more straight forward approach. Still, despite its rather scattershot nature, Angels represents a considerable rebound for Fedorchenko after his excessively sketchy and overly precious Celestial Wives of the Meadow Mari. In contrast, Angels has a pointed perspective and it very definitely builds to something significant. Rather than one powerful indictment of the Stalinist era, it is more like a half dozen little nibbling critiques.

Regardless, with his largely sympathetic treatment of the Khanty and Nenet, Fedorchenko has established himself as the leading cinematic chronicler of Russia’s ethnic minorities, following his earthy but lightweight ode to the Mari and the austere but surprisingly moving Silent Souls, featuring the Merjan Russians. Fedorchenko and his co-art director Artem Khabibulin also brilliantly recreate the Soviet constructivist madness of the era.

When Angels works, it is absolutely inspired, but when it gets bogged in its own affectations, it can get stuck noodling about for a while. Consequently, it is dramatically uneven (featuring intentionally stiff, ironically intentional propaganda-like performances), but its ambition, historical honesty, and ironic sensibility pulls it through. Recommended with mild aesthetic reservations, Angels of Revolution screens twice this coming Tuesday (1/27) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of the 2015 NYJFF.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on January 23rd, 2014 at 5:03pm.

Strong Faith and Hard Fists: LFM Reviews Manny

By Joe Bendel. Manny Pacquiao is hardly the world’s preeminent boxer-politician. Even if his first term in the Philippines’ congress had not been a bit of a “learning experience,” incumbent Kiev Mayor and Maidan supporter Vitali Klitschko would still easily hold that honor (maybe Sebastian Dehnhardt should consider a follow-up doc, soon). However, Pacquiao has become a Horatio Algerish icon for his countrymen, with good reason. Pacquiao’s remarkable success in the ring and his indomitable faith are chronicled in Leon Gast & Ryan Moore’s Manny, which opens this Friday in New York.

Pacquiao’s childhood was everything you would expect, except even more desperately poor. When children his age should have been in elementary school, he worked what jobs he could find and went without meals, so his mother and sisters could eat. Somehow fate delivered him into a boxing ring, where the scrawny kid ploughed through the considerably larger competition. Soon, the only place left for him to find fights was America. Again fate guided him to Freddie Roach’s gym, where the trainer and pugilist immediately clicked. He was not so fortunate with his early management, but that has to be the oldest story in boxing.

Presumably, it would take something special to get Gast to return to the ring, having already won an Oscar for When We Were Kings, considered by many the definitive boxing doc (though we’re obviously still partial to Klitschko), but it is easy to see what drew him to Pacquiao. The boxing congressman had at least two fights in 2011 worthy of Rocky II, one that he won but probably should have lost, and one that he lost but really should have won. Naturally, these bouts constitute a good portion of the film’s third act.

Such times would try many a man’s soul, but the glue holding together Pacquiao and his documentary profile is his devout Catholic faith. His sincerity comes through clearly and it is impressive. It might not be on their radar, but Manny is a film Catholic and evangelical audiences should adopt.

Of course, there are lighter moments too, including clips from Pacquiao’s grade Z Filipino action films. For some reason Jeremy Piven is one of several celebrity talking heads paying tribute to the fighter, but the choice of Liam Neeson to narrate makes considerably more sense. Frankly, he has the perfect voice for the job—sensitive, but undeniably badass. Hopefully, he also gave Pacquiao tips on choosing film projects, like say a thriller in which he is searching for a kidnapped loved one.

It almost feels like Manny ends before the big climatic pay-off, but it is still a compelling story of a rousing underdog life. There is good boxing material here, but it is just as much about faith and family. Recommended for sports fans and Christian viewers, Manny opens this Friday (1/23) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on January 20th, 2014 at 9:47pm.

LFM Reviews Son of a Gun

By Joe Bendel. There is a long cinematic tradition of gangsters and gunmen who were short of stature, but long on presence. Scottish Ewan McGregor follows in the footsteps of less than towering giants like Edward G. Robinson as hardboiled Australian lifer Brendan Lynch, delivering a batch of rather charismatic villainy in Julius Avery’s Son of a Gun, which opens this Friday in New York.

It is unclear whether J.R. and his feeble excuse for a moustache will survive prison, but his roommate is a certain goner. Attracting the unwelcomed attention of a hirsute biker rape gang, J.R. makes a deal for protection from Lynch and his associates. In return, once he is paroled, the kid will arrange the details of Lynch’s escape and serve as his management trainee assistant thereafter. Frankly, J.R. could use some direction, so this arrangement is win-win for him. Then he gets an eyeful of Tasha, one of the Russian women “kept” by Lennox, the Euro crime-boss, who finances Lynch’s operations.

Naturally, Lennox has a job for Lynch once he is at-large: an honest to gosh gold mine. The logistics will be a mess, but Lynch and his cronies need the money and are itching for action. After all, what could go wrong, aside from that thing with Tasha and Lynch’s generally erratic nature?

Son is a pretty entertaining little shoot ‘em up, almost entirely thanks to McGregor. Grizzled but wiry, he has the presence of a coiled spring, ready to launch at any moment. He seriously projects a sense of potential danger, making up for his lifeless appearance in Ossage County. Unfortunately, Brenton Thwaites could not possibly be any duller, truly fading into the background as the dumb and inexperienced J.R. Frankly, it is still unclear whether Alicia Viklander will really crossover. She seems uncomfortable vamping it up as a femme fatale, but her Tasha has enough intelligence and poise to totally out-class Thwaites.

Regardless, when Avery is getting down to criminal business, Son works pretty well. The escape sequence is impressively mounted and might just give other potential accomplices ideas. Likewise, the big heist also qualifies as well staged bedlam. However, during quieter times, the film is conspicuously over-written. Avery drives a bit about chimps and bonobo monkeys (decide which best represents your nature, padawan) so deeply into the ground, you’d think he was drilling for oil.

Son is never really surprising, per se, but it executes its crosses and double-crosses with admirable energy. Nobody is slacking off here, except maybe Thwaites’ facial hair, but McGregor truly takes possession of the film. We really haven’t seen him stretch out in this direction before, but he pulls it off. Recommended overall for fans of prison-heist-noir hybrids, Son of a Gun opens this Friday (1/23) in New York at the Quad Cinema.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on January 20th, 2014 at 9:47pm.

LFM Reviews 20 Once Again

By Joe Bendel. Meng Li Jun is determined to bring back the Jackie-O bob and the spirit of sugary early 1960s pop. She might be cute enough to do it. Of course, she stills remembers when they were popular the first time around, when she was known as Shen Meng Jun. Shen will get a second chance at youth and the things that come with it in Leste Chen’s 20 Once Again, which opens this Friday in New York.

It is a mystical photo studio that spurs her youthful regeneration instead of a fortune telling machine, but you get the picture. She had wandered in to have her eventual funeral photo taken. Yes, she is in a martyring mood, but rather the opposite happens. Restored to the peak of her beauty, Shen still has all memories, including her loving favoritism for her would-be rocker grandson, Xiang Qian Jin. While she keeps her true identity secret, she does the only thing she can to help realize his dreams, joining the band as his girl-singer.

Naturally, he is quite taken with Meng/Shen, which is awkward, especially when their young media patron takes a shine to her. Further complicating matters, Shen’s old loyal companion-never-quite-lover is determined to woo the beauty he fell in love with decades ago.

From "20 Once Again."

If 20OA sounds familiar, beyond the obvious Big-18 Again comparisons, than you probably really know your Korean cinema. It is in fact a Mandarin language, Korean-Chinese co-produced re-conception of last year’s Korean monster hit, Miss Granny, helmed by the Taiwanese Chen, co-starring Luhan, a Chinese-born member of the K-pop boy band EXO. (His fans will probably dig his work here, but the rest of us innocent bystanders will be underwhelmed).

There are a lot of upbeat songs and candy colors in 20 2.0, but it is not all rainbows and buttercups. Naturally, it also indulges in a fair spot of sentiment. Yet, as on-guard as we should be for its heartstring pulling, Zhao Lixin delivers a doozey of a speech as Shen’s grown college professor son that will still kind of get to even relatively jaded viewers.

Nevertheless, it is Yang Zishan, the breakout star of Vicki Zhao Wei’s So Young, who is really running this show. Despite her flirty, pixie-like presence, she still projects Shen’s old, traditional soul. She honestly feels far older than she looks.

Whether you have seen Miss Granny or not, you should have a general idea where 20OA is headed. In addition to its cheesy songs, it has some nice moments celebrating the importance of family and an oddly effective lead performance from Yang Zishan. It is a modest yet manipulative film, but somehow still rather endearing nonetheless. Recommended for fans of light romantic fantasy and K-pop, 20 Once Again opens this Friday (1/16) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on January 16th, 2015 at 12:58pm.

LFM Reviews I Touched All Your Stuff @ First Look 2015

By Joe Bendel. Strictly speaking, Christopher Kirk was not catfished or anything of the like. He knew the woman he called V. in the flesh, but she still played him for a sap. Truth is a slippery notion when it comes to their odd tale. One murky thing lead to another, resulting in a Brazilian prison sentence for Kirk. It is there María Bühler & Matias Mariani interviewed him for their documentary investigation-meditation I Touched All Your Stuff, which screens during the Museum of the Moving Image’s 2015 First Look (this year’s coverage is brought to you by the letter “I”).

Blame Pablo Escobar or maybe Keith Olbermann. Even if they are not directly at fault, they make the story even weirder. Kirk had done a number of interviews with media types like Olbermann after a house-sitting friend wrapped everything in his apartment with aluminum foil (leaving a note with the titular taunt). Kirk had already grown weary of the rat race (seriously, as an IT guy in Olympia, Washington?), so on a half-planned whim, he set off to visit a buddy in Colombia and see Pablo Escobar’s hippos. As the last remnant of the drug lord’s private wildlife park, the transplanted hippopotamus colony has grown and thrived in their new Colombian climate. At least things turned out well for them.

Kirk lost interest in the hippos when he met V., a more demur and studious acquaintance of his buddy’s party girl friends. Half Japanese and half Colombian, she is by all accountants quite stunning, but viewers will not know for certain, because every surviving picture of her is blurrier than the average Big Foot photo. Of course, that is also part of the film’s intrigue.

For a while Kirk and V maintained a pretty heavy long-distance relationship. Yet, in retrospect, Kirk identifies odd little moments he should have paid more attention to. Regardless, he could not ignore the suspicious circumstances when he started meeting her dodgy friends. Still, she kept him on the hook, because of obvious reasons.

Kirk is a natural born story teller and Bühler & Mariani have a keen sense of the film’s narrative structure, allowing the strangeness to steadily escalate. However, viewers should be cautioned not to emotionally invest in Kirk as a tragic protagonist. After all, he is in prison for something.

Stuff is the darnedest doc. Bühler & Mariani do not exactly connect every dot in V and Kirk’s mysterious lives, but the combination of what they know for sure and their working assumptions feels like ninety percent of the truth. Of course, that confounding ten percent is what fascinates and nags at the viewer.

There are probably a few too many scenes of skype and IM chats in Stuff, but its inherent mysteries and general attitude are quite compelling. Consider it a post-modern excursion into true crime or a documented urban legend. All that’s missing is a man with a hook. Highly recommended, I Touched All Your Stuff screens this Friday (1/16), as part of this year’s First Look at MoMI in Astoria, Queens.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on January 16th, 2015 at 12:58pm.