LFM: Libertas Film Magazine

By Joe Bendel. In the post-apocalyptic future, two technicians will wrestle with some thorny issues of lifeboat ethics. They happen to be in charge of lifeboat maintenance, but they are not as stable as you might hope. Complications will most definitely arise in Christian Cantamessa’s AIR, the first theatrical release from Walking Dead creator Robert Kirkman’s Skybound shingle, which opens this Friday in New York.

Due to war, pestilence, and plague, the Earth’s surface atmosphere has become toxic. An elite lucky few were sent into suspended animation in deep subterranean bunkers. In each lifeboat-like shelter, two not so lucky technicians are roused every six months to run diagnostics and check the sleepers’ vitals. They only have one hour and fifty nine minutes to get back in their pods before all the oxygen is sucked out of the bunker and back into the tanks.

Unfortunately, both Bauer and Cartwright are showing signs of stress. The former is becoming increasingly aggressive, while the latter is seeing visions of one of the suspended scientists he clearly fancies. However, his mental projection of Abby often manages to give him rather timely advice. He will need it when his personal pod suffers a malfunction.

The apocalypse is usually more compelling on a personal level than on a big macro plane—and AIR is a good case in point. There is something very effectively old school about the one set (albeit a rather complex one, impressively rendered by Brian Kane’s production team) and its two or three character dynamic, depending one’s point-of-view. Cantamessa has a firm handle on close-quarters action, dexterously slamming airlocks and sending Bauer and Cartwright shimmying through air-ducts. Despite its claustrophobic nature, AIR is still quite cinematic looking.

No stranger to Kirkman or playing twitchy survivors, Walking Dead’s Norman Reedus has instant credibility as Bauer, yet he still manages to keep the audience off balance with his erratic behavior. Djimon Hounsou is also well cast as Cartwright, the strong, silent, hallucinating type. Although nobody could really sink their teeth into a role like the apparitional Abby, Sandrine Holt still has the perfectly cerebral yet sensitive presence to memorably haunt Cartwright and the film.

AIR is another fine example of how inventive filmmakers can make tight, tense, relatively action-oriented science fiction with hardly any visual effects to speak of. Granted, it is small in scope, but frankly that is rather refreshing in such an overly bloated genre. Recommended pretty enthusiastically for fans of Kirkman and post-apocalyptic SF, AIR opens this Friday (8/14) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on August 12th, 2015 10:08pm.

By Joe Bendel. Probably no sport has had a rougher decade than pro-cycling. With most of its recent champions disgraced by doping scandals, there should at least be opportunities for young emerging cyclists. Unfortunately, three former teammates cannot all be champions. However, the sport itself should definitely benefit from the treatment it gets from Hong Kong action auteur Dante Lam in To the Fore, which Magnum Films just released in New York.

Chiu Ming has power. Qiu Tian is a plugger who can climb. Together they are perfectly matched “lead-outs” who should be able to guide the Taiwanese Team Radiant’s star Korean sprinter Ji-won to victory. Unfortunately, just when they start gelling as a team, their sponsor leaves their owner-manager high and dry. Suddenly free agents, they each sign on as sprinters for competing teams. Ji-won is already on the verge of advancing to next professional class, but Qiu is physically unsuited to his new role, while Chiu has trouble controlling his emotions. In between some spectacularly cinematic races, Chiu and Qiu will also compete for the affections of Shiyao, a Mainland indoor track racer recovering from a pulmonary embolism.

If you enjoy cycling, Lam brings the goods with authority. Although there is no fighting per se, his action chops still serve the racing sequences remarkably well. Lam makes it easy to follow the team strategy as it unfolds, while cinematographer Pakie Chan captures the in-race events with remarkable clarity. Lam and co-screenwriter Silver Lam Fung also shrewdly vary the competitions, making their way through the streets of Kaohsiung City, the Italian Alps, a mobbed-up betting track in Busan, and the Tengger Desert. Naturally, each course has its particular challenges.

Somehow, Lam and company manage to steer clear of most of the moldiest sports movies clichés. The interpersonal stuff is still fairly workaday stuff, but Wang Luodan elevates the material as the reserved but engaging Shiyao. Eddie Peng does his cocky Taiwanese Tom Cruise thing as Chiu, but it fits the part. Choi Si-won has the least room to stretch as Ji-won, the Iceman to Peng’s Maverick, but he certainly has the appropriately cool look. However, Shawn Dou manages to scrape out a rather impressive character development arc as Qiu.

Regardless, To the Fore is really all about the cycling. Despite the potential repetitiveness, Lam keeps the energy level cranked up and establishes meaningful stakes for each and every race. It is a great looking film that fully capitalizes on its diverse panoramic locales. Recommended for fans of cycling and sports films in general, To the Fore is now playing in New York at the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on August 12th, 2015 at 10:07pm.

By Joe Bendel. The term “practical effects” could soon become the equivalent of “shade-grown organic” for genre film connoisseurs. It denotes authenticity in an era of CGI fakeness. It usually also means a few cast-members got slimed for real. That certainly seems to be the case in special effects artist Alec Gillis’s Harbinger Down, which opens today in Westchester.

To stretch her pompous professor’s research budget, Sadie has booked their whale tracking expedition passage on her grandfather’s crab trawler, the Harbinger. Old Graff runs a tight ship, but Sadie comes from a long line of seafarers, including her late parents. Therefore, the crew immediately takes a liking to her and resents her prima donna professor. When she finds an old, hitherto unreported Soviet space capsule through her whale scans, her prof. swoops in hoping to claim the glory for himself.

Of course, dredging the long frozen pod may not be the best of ideas. It is immediately suspicious since it was apparently shot up at a time when the Soviets were supposedly not launching Moon missions. It is also clear the cosmonaut did not burn up. It turns out he was killed by a lethal parasite that is now fully thawed and mutating like mad. At least the Professor will be the first one infected.

When the slimy extraterrestrial entity starts wreaking havoc on the icebound ship (which happens quickly), you can see the delight Gillis and his special effects partner-producer Tom Woodruff, Jr take in creating nasty, slithering things. Harbinger is definitely an old school throwback to the 1980s creature horror of The Thing, Gremlins, and Aliens, with Lance Henriksen giving it extra added legitimacy as salty old Graff. His genre movie authority remains undiminished. If you were stranded on a rusted crabber with an alien parasite running amok, you would want a skipper like him.

In fact, the supporting characters are unusual well-drawn for a set-up-the-pins-and-knock-them-down horror film. Naturally, Henriksen does his thing, but Winston James Francis and Milla Bjorn are terrific playing off each other as the mismatched crew members, Big G and Svet, respectively. As the professor, Matt Winston (son of special effects legend Stan Winston) also makes a satisfyingly detestable villain, so his cosmic payback is rather enjoyable to watch, even though it means big trouble for the rest of the Harbinger crew.

The space parasite is the central monster in Harbinger, but the Soviets of the 1980s and the neo-Soviet Russian government of right now are also part of the problem, which makes the film more geopolitically astute than ninety-nine percent of recent genre releases. It is also decidedly slime-obsessed. It understands what creature feature patrons want and can’t wait to give it to them. Recommended for fans of Henriksen and practical effects, Harbinger Down opens today (8/7) at the Picturehouse in Pelham.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on August 7th, 2015 at 2:53pm.

By Joe Bendel. Gansu lies in the crossroads between the countries of Tibet, Mongolia, and Mainland China’s Muslim provinces. You will find more spiritualism than commercialism there. Like many young Chinese citizens, Ga Gui left home in search of greener economic pastures in the city. However, a premonition of her father’s death brings her home in Chai Chunya’s hallucinatory Four Ways to Die in My Hometown, which screens as part of Cinema on the Edge, a retrospective tribute to the Beijing Independent Film Festival now playing in New York at Anthology Film Archives.

Despite Ga Gui’s sudden sense of urgency, her father has been dying for years—and he certainly has not been graceful about it. Increasingly senile, the old man raves against the world from the apparent comfort of his coffin, which he has not left for seven years. Understandably, her little sister is delighted to see Ga Gui, especially since she has just had her own encounter with some sort of holy fool in the mountains.

Although she lives in the city, Ga Gui is highly attuned to nature and animals. She can whisper sense into the family’s errant camel, but her powers are earthly in nature. Seeing the spirit world is the purview of others, who have much around them to see. This village is profoundly haunted, by ghosts of both the supernatural and metaphorical kind. Two old puppeteers are determined to exercise some of the latter through a performance, but their third colleague refuses to participate, perhaps because they were never very good at their craft. They started performing during the Cultural Revolution, after the fevered state had rounded up all the great masters.

Hometown is inspired by the four Tibetan elements, but Chai is not exactly slavish about underscoring the given themes in each part of his tetraptych. In fact, the narrative is definitely rather loose, safely fitting under the experimental rubric. Instead of delving into melodrama or teachable moments, Hometown serves as the ghost at the banquet—the gibbering reminder of all the dark secrets China has chained up in its rural attics. Sometimes it really makes no sense, but it is always primal.

Fortunately, Chai has a painter’s eye for visual composition, because he does not give the audience much else to latch onto. Granted, the soundtrack is truly hypnotic, but the trance-like state it helps induce is almost counter-productive. This is a deliberately disorienting film that is in no hurry to reveal its deeper meanings. Yet, there are moments here and there that resonate with clarity. Chai’s casting instincts are also rock solid, starting with the earthy yet otherworldly Ga Gui.

The sprits are angry in Hometown, but fortunately they are also tired. They too are not immune from the film’s lulling effect. Nevertheless, Hometown is densely packed with folkloric references. Indeed, it is the sort of film that cries out for thesis treatment, but there is still no getting around the laborious pacing. Recommended for experienced patrons of avant-garde cinema only, Four Ways to Die in My Hometown screens tomorrow (7/8) and next Wednesday (7/12) as part of Cinema on the Edge at Anthology Film Archives.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on August 7th, 2015 at 2:53pm.

By Joe Bendel. Judging from Ahn Okyun’s experiences, the Korean resistance was a lot like the French underground. Traitors from within were a far greater threat than efforts to root them out. In fact, the greatest threat to her mission comes from the turncoat who recruited her in the first place in Choi Dong-hoon’s Assassination, which opens this Friday in New York.

Ahn was born in Korea, but she never lived there. Her nanny managed to save her when her collaborating dog of a father had her loyalist mother killed. She grew up as part of the free Korean diaspora, becoming a sniper in the Korean Independence Army, despite her spectacles. In contrast, her twin sister lived a life of luxury bought and paid for with blood money. Never really knowing her father, she has no reservations about assassinating him. Hopefully, she will also be able to take out Kawaguchi, the local Japanese commander, who happens to be responsible for the death of her adopted mother.

To complicate matters, Captain Yem, the supposed hero of the provisional government is actually working with the Japanese to undermine the plot he was ordered to launch. Initially, he entrusts the job to a notorious outlaw known as Hawaii Pistol, but the gun-for-hire is about to have his Casablanca moment. Remember that bit about Ahn being a twin? It will be significant.

Fifty-one different flavors of vintage firearms were used in the making of Assassination, which should instill confidence in its action scenes—and rightly so. Even though Choi’s screenplay is chocked full of Shakespearean elements—betrayal, grudges, twins separated by circumstances—the action quota and body count are closer to old school John Woo. It is sort of like Melville’s Army of Night, but with all the existential angst replaced with adrenaline-charged shootouts.

Action director Yu Sang-seop pulls out all the stops down the stretch, delivering a centerpiece spectacle that is truly a thing of beautiful carnage. The entire third act is a non-stop ballet of gunfire, but Choi ends it with some stone cold operatic payback. This is the kind of film that turns fans onto Asian action movies in the first place.

Lee Jung-jae is terrifically loathsome as Yem and Ha Jung-woo’s Hawaii Pistol certainly holds up his end during the action sequences, but Gianna Jun commands the film from start to finish. She was great in Choi’s The Thieves, but this is another level up for her as an action lead. She looks like a natural firing the Mosin-Nagant sniper rifle, but she also expresses the sort emotional turmoil you would expect from an orphan, whose family relationships are about to get considerably more complicated.

Assassination somehow runs a robust one hundred thirty-nine minutes, but they are a lean, mean one hundred thirty-nine minutes. It feels drastically shorter, because most of the time is devoted to action and the relatively quiet moments are used for some pretty effective intrigue. For action fans, this is the good stuff. Very highly recommended, Assassination opens this Friday (8/7) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on August 6th, 2015 at 5:38pm.