Category: Trailers

By Joe Bendel. It turns out there really are little grey aliens out there. The X-Files had them perfectly pegged physically, but the rest of their nature has yet to be determined. They are coming, though. A motley assortment of Italians await their anticipated arrival during the planet’s final pre-contact days in Gian Alfonso Pacinotti’s deceptively spoilerishly titled The Last Man on Earth, which screens as part of the 2012 Seattle International Film Festival.

Luca Bertacci is a miserable man leading a depressing life. The anti-social bingo parlor waiter has issues with women, but he is not too fond of men, either. Perhaps logically, his only friend (strictly platonic) is a transvestite prostitute. Still, there are understandable reasons for his emotional deep freeze. Despite his long nurtured resentments, he finds himself pining for Anna Luini, a pretty neighbor across the street.

Unlike the rest of the world, Bertacci tries not to think about the aliens, so he is rather surprised to find his elderly father cohabitating with an early arriver. It seems to be a chaste relationship, but her presence invigorates the old man. Bertacci even starts talking to Luini. It isn’t pretty, but it is a beginning. Unfortunately, mistakes in their private lives might have rather cosmic implications as first contact approaches.

Bertacci is hardly a typical sci-fi action protagonist. Rather than I Am Legend, think of him more like the guy in the “if you were the last man on Earth” expression. Still, the aliens really are coming, which serves as an amusing Rorschach for various characters’ neuroses. During the opening credits, one radio talk show caller even expresses concern for the impact on small market football teams. In a way, Last is like two (or perhaps one and a half) decidedly oddball love stories, connected by unrestrained existential dread.

Hardly kid-friendly space opera, Last lurches into some pretty ominous places, but Gabriele Spinelli solidly anchors it all as Bertacci. While sympathetic, there is clearly something off about the waiter that is never fixed with a neat psychological contrivance. Frankly, it is pretty engrossing just watching the dysfunctional gears turning in his head. Though she only has one really heavy scene, Anna Bellato is a dynamic presence as her namesake, while the makeup obscured Sara Rosa Losilla’s weirdly awkward body language perfectly suits the alien.

A distinctive work of cerebral social science fiction, Last would make a good double feature with Nacho Vigalondo’s Extraterrestrial, which also screens at SIFF this year. Of course, Pacinotti’s film would definitely be the darker half. Yet the comic artist (a.k.a. Gipi) turned director never allows the angst to overwhelm the story. Recommended for discerning genre fans, Last Man on Earth screens this Thursday (5/31) during SIFF.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on May 29th, 2012 at 2:21pm.

By Joe Bendel. Technically, there is only one bat monster in Francis Gordon’s latest B-movie, but it would hardly be the first time the zero-budget mogul delivered slightly less than promised. It will certainly attack though, rest assured. By hook or by crook, his cast and crew will pound out his next drive-in programmer in Attack of the Bat Monsters!, Graham Kelly Greene’s affectionate love letter to campy late 1950’s and early 1960’s monster movie-making, an alumni selection returning to officially open the 2012 Dances with Films this Thursday.

Attack is not about Roger Corman per se, but it would not have been made without his example. Gordon is definitely a grindhouse showman in the Corman mold. He is convinced he can fix anything in the editing room as long as they follow his cardinal rule: “when the monster’s dead, the movie is over.” Paralleling the genesis of Corman’s Little Shop of Horrors, Gordon wrapped production on his latest film early, but he still has three paid-up days in the southern California rock quarry he does not intend to waste.

Suddenly, AD Chuck Grayson is rushing about lining up a screenwriter (the least important part), a pseudo-star, and a new monster (that would be the biggie). The beatnik poet Bobby Barnstone and his Barnstone method of Benzedrine-fueled stream-of-consciousness screenwriting looks like the best bet for generating fast pages. They don’t have to be good, after all. Larry “The Cat Creature” Meeker, Jr. seems to have fallen on hard enough times that he would consider a Francis Gordon movie; plus, a former creature-making colleague has just been fired by a major studio. However, he still harbors bad feelings over The Snake Woman, a Gordon production so notorious, the mere mention of the title sucks the air out of rooms.

All the Corman motifs are present and accounted for, including spaced-out beatniks, a jazzy soundtrack, and a ridiculously cheesy monster. What sets Attack apart from thematically similar B-movie pastiches is Greene’s confidence in the behind-the-scenes story. There will be no real life monsters or aliens invading their set, just the union goon extras from a studio gladiator movie sent to run the crew out of the quarry ahead of schedule.

Attack had its world premiere at DWF back in 2000. Frankly, the fact that the film has yet to develop its own cult following is downright mystifying, because it really delivers the goods. Greene knows the Corman lore inside-out and his cast of not exactly household names is way funnier than you would expect. There is also a real edge to his dialogue, as when Gordon indignantly defends his honor by declaring he always pays his taxes and pays-off his unions. Indeed, what more could one ask of a good Hollywood citizen?

There are some hilarious supporting assists here, particularly Robert Bassetti as Barnstone and Douglas Taylor as Meeker, Jr. Fred Ballard is also pitch-perfect as the prickly Gordon, while Michael Dalmon gamely holds the madness together as the put-upon Grayson.

Without question, Attack is generously stocked with goofy humor, but it can also be quite sly. Yet there is a real heart beneath the bedlam that cares about its characters, precisely because on some level they also care about the B-movies they are churning out, despite being fully aware of their schlockiness. A completely satisfying, all-around good show, Attack of the Bat Monsters is ripe for re/discovery when it opens this year’s Dances with Films this coming Thursday night (5/31) in Hollywood, USA.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on May 29th, 2012 at 2:02pm.

By Joe Bendel. Two twelve year-old runaways would like to remake the generic sounding Mile 3.25 Tidal Inlet into a New England version of the Blue Lagoon, but they aim to maintain the cultural trappings of 1965 middle class America, as they relate to it, in the process. Unfortunately, the adult world keeps intruding on their private moments in Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom, the opening night film of this year’s Cannes Film Festival, which bows theatrically in New York tomorrow (Friday, 5/25).

Sam Shakusky is a terrible Khaki Scout. Actually, his skills are not that bad, but he does not fit in socially with Scout Master Ward’s troupe. Unbeknownst to Ward, Shakusky is an orphan, about to get the heave-ho from his foster family. However, the sensitive scout has successfully wooed Suzy Bishop, the eldest child of two self-absorbed yet profoundly unhappy attorneys.

When Shakusky fails to appear at revile one fateful morning, it sets off a manhunt throughout New Penzance Island, taxing the meager resources of Captain Sharp, Mrs. Bishop’s recently dumped lover. Chastely dedicated to each other, the two fugitives would like to permanently retreat from reality at the prosaically named inlet they duly redub “Moonrise Kingdom.” Instead, they will repeat a cycle of chase, apprehension, and escape, as a historic storm approaches New Penzance, as it always happens in an island-bound story.

It takes about ten seconds for Moonrise Kingdom to announce itself as a Wes Anderson film, through his constantly panning camera and the richly detailed vintage sets. Indeed, the attention to detail extends down to the covers of the chapter-books Bishop reads aloud to Shakusky. Yet, rather than detracting from his fable-like story, Anderson’s signature style is perfectly suited to the innocence of young love. Focusing on young POV characters is actually quite a shrewd strategy on his part, giving him the license to incorporate all kinds of nostalgic eccentricity (nod to Norman Rockwell? Check.) while staying faithful to their precocious worldview. Frankly, this is the sort of film a visual stylist like Tim Burton ought to be making, instead of aimless tent-poles like Dark Shadows.

As Mr. Bishop, Anderson mainstay Bill Murray once again plays a middle-aged depressive with deep-seated relationship woes. Fellow alumnus Jason Schwartzman is also back for more, getting some of Moonrise’s best comedy scenes as Cousin Ben, a slick operating senior Khaki Scout. Indeed, the film boasts several notably colorful supporting turns, including by Bruce Willis, acting his age and playing against his action hero persona as the put-upon Captain Sharp. Tilda Swinton also absolutely plays to the hilt the personification of bureaucracy known simply as “Social Services,” while the mere sight of Bob Balban’s “Narrator” in his bright crimson wardrobe generates laughter. Still, the dramatic load largely falls on the young newcomers, Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward, who are quite emotionally engaging leads, playing their scenes together scrupulously straight.

Essentially, Moonrise is a children’s movie for adults. Robert Yeoman’s cinematography gives it all a sensitive period sheen, while the soundtrack (dominated by the unlikely combination of Benjamin Britten and Hank Williams recordings, more than Alexandre Desplat’s original themes) effectively underscores the wistful vibe. Altogether, it is very Wes Anderson – but its gentle, humane spirit is quite winning. Recommended surprisingly highly (well beyond Anderson’s established circle of admirers), Moonrise opens tomorrow (5/25) in New York at the AMC Lincoln Square and Regal Union Square.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on May 24th, 2012 at 1:08pm.

By Joe Bendel. One of the twentieth century’s bloodiest assaults on religious freedom happened in the western hemisphere. It was perpetrated by “revolutionary” Mexican socialist president Plutarco Calles, whose iron-fisted anti-clerical policies inspired a real grassroots revolution. By the 1930’s an uneasy and imperfect peace had been brokered, but scattered bands of Cristero resistance fighters held out as best they could. One of the final squads grapples with their destiny in Matías Meyer’s The Last Christeros, which screens during the 2012 Seattle International Film Festival.

Mexico is still a land of wide vistas John Ford could love, but it is steadily closing in on the Cristero remnants. Pursued by a company of Federales, Col. Florencio Estrada’s troops are running low on everything, including bullets. Word reaches them of an amnesty, which some of the men are willing to consider. However, Estrada has been down that road before. Calles had violated the terms of truces before, and the period of his unelected “Maximato” was still underway. Though he misses his wife and daughters, Estrada has long since realized he will meet his end through this war, one way or another.

To establish the stakes of the Cristero revolution, Meyer opens the film with the 1969 oral history recording of Francisco Campos, who very well may have been the last Cristero. However, that is about as deeply as the film delves into the political, historical, and religious significance of the civil war. Instead, Last Christeros (for some reason, the international title carries the Anglicized “h,” while most references to the Cristeros maintain the original spelling) is an impressionistic depiction of the trying conditions endured by the weary freedom fighters. Theirs is not an existential life, though. Rather, they live for a purpose.

Though the ensemble consists largely of neophyte actors, they all look convincingly gaunt and weathered. Alejandro Limon is particularly haunting as the dedicated (and/or resigned to his fate) Estrada. Yet the picture’s defining work is that of cinematographer Gerardo Barroso, who creates painterly-like tableau of the rugged terrain and hardscrabble villages the Cristeros silently trudge through. Galo Duran’s evocative soundtrack also helps set an appropriately wistful mood.

For those thinking the Cristero revolt would also readily lend itself to a more traditional historical drama take heart—Andy Garcia rides into theaters with For Greater Glory on June 8th. This mini-boomlet of interest in the Cristeros is actually quite timely. In an election year, it reminds us of the price many have paid for liberty. If not exactly a work of advocacy cinema, Meyer certainly respects the Cristeros’ sacrifices. Recommended for open minded cineastes, The Last Christeros screens again next Wednesday following (5/30) as part of this year’s Seattle International Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on May 24th, 2012 at 1:08pm.