LFM Reviews The Shaman @ Tribeca 2015

By Joe Bendel. Imagine the Terminator franchise, but with metaphysics replacing artificial technology. In the year 2204, humanity has been in a state of constant war for seventy-three years. Not content simply developing the latest lethal hardware, the warring factions have also weaponized shamanism. Great battles are joined in the Netherworld, where shamans try to convert or kill the souls of machines existing in our plane of reality. One such spiritual intermediary will face his most dangerous mission yet in Marco Kalantari’s epic short film The Shaman, which screened at the 2015 Tribeca Film Festival (as part of the Interference programming block).

It might be a short film, but it is long on concept. Clearly, writer-director-producer-editor Kalantari can only establish the basic essentials of this shamanistic dystopia in the film’s mere eighteen minutes. Through the help of sympathetic musical accompaniment, shamans like our unnamed titular character are able to cross over to the realm where the souls of machines exist in corporal form, at least for the duration of the tune. The Shaman’s target is the soul of the Colossus, a devastating new Death Star-like battle droid. Unfortunately, the Colossus seems to be expecting him. Nevertheless, the Shaman insists on an unusually short composition, perhaps out of respect for Kalantari’s budget.

Frankly, a short film with this level of special effects would have been unimaginable ten years ago. Kalantari creates a sinister futuristic landscape of enormous scope that is initially maybe a bit reminiscent of the Terminator, but he takes it in a wholly original direction. If this short was produced in the hope it will lead to an expanded feature, it is likely to win the requisite backing, because in this case, seeing is believing.

The very idea of a massive space battles also being waged on the subconscious level and within the soul is heady stuff and even a little disturbing. It is a rich vein Kalantari should be able to profitably mine over multiple films. Hopefully, he will bring back Susanne Wuest, because she is terrific as the Soul of Colossus. He also gets a key assist from cinematographer Thomas Kiennast (who also lensed the moody strudel western Dark Valley). He gives this universe a darkly distinctive look, while Kalantari blends the trappings of science fiction and fantasy quite effectively.

Minute for minute, The Shaman has considerably more ideas than most big budget genre movies. Easily the best science fiction at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival, it is prime candidate for later genre fests like Fantasia. Highly recommended, indie sf fans should definitely keep an eye out for it.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on May 6th, 2015 at 9:55pm.

LFM Reviews Peggy Guggenheim—Art Addict @ Tribeca 2015

By Joe Bendel. Without Peggy Guggenheim, there would be no Jackson Pollock, at least not as the modernist icon as we have come to know him. Dozens of important Twentieth Century artists were supported and nurtured by Guggenheim. She was the preeminent American gallerist before the term came into vogue and amassed a personal collection that would rival the Barnes. Her passionate career is chronicled in Lisa Immordino Vreeland’s Peggy Guggenheim—Art Addict, which had its world premiere at the 2015 Tribeca Film Festival.

Amy Madigan played Guggenheim in Ed Harris’s Pollock bio-picture, so you know it had to be an important role. By Gilded Age standards, her branch of the Guggenheims was not so fabulously wealthy, but it would be a gross understatement to call them “comfortable.” Her family life was somewhat problematic, considering her father perished on the Titanic, but his mistress survived. Awkward, right? Supposedly not exactly a great beauty, Guggenheim never looked for high society validation, but she had a keen interest in grubby intellectuals and a true eye for beautiful and/or provocative art.

In addition to Pollock, Guggenheim was an important early collector and exhibitor of artists like Clyfford Still and Robert De Niro, Sr. (and ever so coincidentally, her documentary screened at Tribeca). At one point, she was married to Max Ernst, but their union sounds like a bit of a train wreck. Regardless, she fortuitously collected early works from towering figures of modern art, much like Albert Barnes. Frankly, it would be prohibitively expensive to amass equivalent collections in today’s market.

It is just jaw-dropping to see the collected pieces now ensconced in the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, idyllically located in Venice. Originally, it was not affiliated with the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum on 89th Street, but a joining of forces would launch the Guggenheim as perhaps the first truly multinational museum. Plus, she reportedly took scores of lovers, which Vreeland’s experts allude to, without getting excessively gossipy.

Art Addict is an appropriately classy package that moves along at a brisk pace. J. Ralph’s upbeat soundtrack also keeps the energy up, sometimes evoking the spirit of the Hot Club era. After watching the film, audiences just have to give Guggenheim credit for doing it her way and snagging the best pieces. Not to belabor the point, but Vreeland (granddaughter-in-law and documentarian of Diana Vreeland) clearly understands the social eco-system in which Guggenheim rebelled and thrived. The result is a well-balanced, nicely contextualized portrait. Highly recommended for art lovers, Peggy Guggenheim—Art Addict screens next month at the Nantucket Film Festival (exact dates tk), after premiering at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on May 2nd, 2015 at 11:38am.

LFM Reviews Over Your Dead Body @ The 2015 Stanley Film Festival

By Joe Bendel. If you are playing the part of an unfaithful lover who meets a grisly supernatural end opposite your real life lover, it is bad karma to betray her off-stage, especially if she arranged the gig for you. Unfortunately, Kousuke Hasegawa is exactly that sort of cad. Life will duly imitate art in Takashi Miike’s Over Your Dead Body, which screens during the 2015 Stanley Film Festival.

Hasegawa and Miyuki Goto have the leads in the classical macabre kabuki drama Yotsuya Kaidan, adapted for the screen many times, including as Nobou Nakagawa’s pretty awesome The Ghost Story of Yotsuya. As the cast rehearses, a great deal as meta-ness unfolds backstage. Like his character, the sociopathic ronin Tamiya Iemon, Hasegawa is cheating on Goto (cast as the tragically trusting Iwa) with the younger actress playing her younger on-stage rival, Ume.

Iemon will do cruel and evil things to destroy Iwa to be with Ume. In ostensive real life, Hasegawa is maybe not as proactively duplicitous, but he clearly has no regard for Goto’s feelings. However, there are ominous portents of a malevolent force afoot. Eventually, even Hasegawa starts to pick up on the bad vibes.

Despite the bring-it-on title, OYDB is a remarkably restrained horror film, especially from a master of mayhem like Miike. In truth, it represents a return to the austere elegance displayed in his moody Jidaigeki tragedy Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai. That might disappoint the faithful at the Stanley, but it certainly constitutes distinctive filmmaking.

From "Over Your Dead Body."

Indeed, the play within the film would be well worth seeing in its own right. Watching the massive sets created by co-art directors Yuji Hayashida and Eri Sakushima rotating on and off the stage is quite an impressive sight. There is also a really creepy doll used as a surrogate for the play’s infant. Frankly, it is surprisingly easy to get caught up in Iwa and Iemon’s story.

Kô Shibasaki scores a knockout punch as Goto, coming undone like Glen Close in Fatal Attraction, but with far greater subtlety. Likewise, well-regarded kabuki actor Ebizô Ichikawa is appropriately reptilian as Hasegawa and Hasegawa in the role of Iemon. There is a cast of dozens on the set within the film. Yet, only Miho Nakanishi gets much screen time of substance, but when her entitled Ume gets caught up in Iwa’s wrath, it is a great scene.

Miike has probably already made ten films since wrapping OYDB, but it would be an awful shame if it was lost in the shuffle. It is one of the most darkly sophisticated life-parallels-art films you will see, easily putting to shame Polanski’s overhyped Venus in Fur and the very odd but well-intentioned 1915. Highly recommended, Over Your Dead Body screens tomorrow (5/2) and Sunday (5/3) as part of this year’s Stanley Film Festival.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on May 2nd, 2015 11:38am.

LFM Reviews Ladies of the House; Now on VOD

By Joe Bendel. These strippers really enjoy serving their customers—preferably with some melted butter and a side of potatoes. Yes, Damon Knight’s pun is still zingy sixty-five years later. However, these exotic dancers are not aliens. They are as earthy as it gets. Usually, they have to lure men (who really ought to be more suspicious) back to their (charnel) house, but this time dinner will unexpectedly delivery itself in John Stuart Wildman’s Ladies of the House, which releases today on VOD.

A relatively nice guy like Jacob never should have taken his slightly addled brother Kai to a strip club for his birthday, but their obnoxious friend Derek always has to get his way. When the club scene turns sour for them, Derek decides to follow home (i.e. stalk) one of the dancers. That would be Ginger, Lin’s newest housemate. There are rules to living in her house. Dinner rituals are a big deal, but Ginger has not fully acclimated. When the three lads try to invite themselves in she unwisely agrees. After a lot of boozing, the three amigos find themselves in a sticky Very Bad Things situation.

At this point, Ginger’s housemates arrive, locking in the intruders rather than calling five-o. They are pretty much done for, especially if Getty, Lin’s lover with anger management issues, gets a hold of them. Things are going to get ugly for the intruding trio, but at least their experiences will help kids learn proper strip club etiquette.

Known for his Utilitarian concept of filmmaking, John Stuart Wildman also happens to be a film publicist for some of New York’s more prestigious screening events, whom we all know and like quite a bit, so you can now consider yourself fully informed. However, House delivers the kind of grindhouse love any cult film fan can appreciate. Yet, this feels like an intensely personal film, almost like Blue is the Warmest Color, but with more cannibalism.

Shrewdly, Wildman and co-writer Justina Walford follow the EC Comics playbook, meting out gory payback for the appalling displays of loutish behavior. By the time we get to the third act, absolutely no one will want to see Derek the pond scum walk out of the house under his own steam. Indeed, Samrat Chakrabarti clearly enjoys playing that kind of a jerkweed character, which helps make House so subversive.

Still, Gabriel Horn’s Jacob is convincingly contrite enough to keep our loyalties divided between cannibals and the meat for their grinder. Farah White and Melodie Sisk convey a strangely legit sense of long-term couplehood, leaving us intrigued for more back story. Michelle Sinclair also comes across appropriately down-to-earth and slightly naïve as Ginger. Evidently, she has a lot of fans who know her for her work under the name “Belladonna,” but surely nobody here knows what that might be.

Frankly, it has been a while since we’ve had a good lesbian cannibal movie, so House arrives just in the nick of time. Wildman has a knack staging the blood-and-guts business of Lin’s food preparation without making the audience feel gross on a personal level (unlike a nasty piece of gristle like Butcher Boys, for instance). Not afraid of its exploitation elements, Ladies of the House is easily recommended for retro genre fans, now that it is available via iTunes and VOD platforms.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on May 2nd, 2015 at 11:38am.

LFM Reviews Reality

By Joe Bendel. Something about Philip Glass’s Music with Changing Parts brings to mind Torgo’s theme from Manos: the Hands of Fate. That is not a criticism. In fact, it is another reason why it works so well as the soundtrack to Quentin Dupieux’s latest mind-trip. Reality with get twisted up and bent over double in Dupieux’s ironically titled Reality, which opens tomorrow at the IFC Center.

Her name is “Reality” and her hunter father just bagged a wild boar. Nobody believes her, but she knows she saw a blue VHS tape pop out of its stomach while her Pops was removing the entrails. She will duly retrieve that tape, but the director filming her story will take his sweet time before he lets us watch it. His name is Zog and he is driving his French producer Bob Marshall to distraction with his cost-overruns. Marshall is the decisive type. He is fully willing to fund Jason Tantra’s horror movie if he can produce the perfect groan of misery to express its essence.

In between his groan sessions, Tantra works his day job as a camera man for a cooking show hosted by a man in a rat costume suffering from phantom eczema. All that scratching is starting to turn viewers against him. Frankly, the viewing experience can be trying in Reality, as when Tantra accidentally takes his wife to see his film before he starts making it. Rather upset with the sound mix, he tries to stop the screening, so he can fix it in the future. Then things start getting strange.

As weird as Dupieux’s first act undeniably is, it is nothing compared to the lunacy that follows. Dreams and films will interrupt and fold back into each other, as each strange subplot doubles back and refers to itself. Edited by Dupieux (a.k.a. Mr. Ozio), Reality has an extremely complex structure mere mortals could not even begin to diagram.

Granted, Reality lacks the warmth and sweetness that made Wrong such an unexpected pleasure, but it is still a blast to watch Dupieux juggle an infinite number of balls in the air. Each new reverse is a thing of beauty onto itself. It is easy for actors to get overwhelmed in such an auteurist spectacle, but John Glover gives one for the ages as the supremely confident Zog. Alain Chabat’s Tantra is like an everyman from an alternate universe (and maybe he is), while Napoleon Dynamite’s Jon Heder really looks like he is suffering from a nasty rash in that rat suit.

By now, you really should know within a 99.99 degree of certainty whether Reality is your cup of tea or not. If you’re not sure, go anyway, because part of Reality’s subversive fun is watching other audience members getting confused and upset. Highly recommended for Dupieux fans and connoisseurs of cult cinema, Reality opens tomorrow (5/1) in New York, at the IFC Center.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on April 30th, 2015 at 4:49pm.

LFM Reviews Hungry Hearts @ Tribeca 2015

By Joe Bendel. It is based on an Italian novel, but echoes of the notorious Atlanta vegan baby starvation case ring throughout Saverio Costanzo’s mostly English language drama. A new Italian mother parents too much with her intuitive feelings, ignoring conventional pediatric nutrition and medicine in Costanzo’s Hungry Hearts, which had its U.S. premiere at the 2015 Tribeca Film Festival, with a screening at the Montclair Film Festival soon to follow.

Jude, an Upper Westside engineer, and Mina, a PR flack for the Italian consul, meet-cute, under slightly gross circumstances. Enjoy the scatological humor while it lasts, because there will be major friction in their married lives. There are ominous portents of trouble to come during her difficult pregnancy, but Mina’s manic New Aginess really starts to manifest in highly problematic ways when she starts imposing a strict vegan diet on the infant.

At first, Jude is more worried about his underweight son’s persistent cold-like symptoms. However, when he finally sneaks the crib monster to a doctor, he is told the sniffles are “the least of his concern.” The boy is so malnourished, he simply isn’t growing. However, whenever Jude questions Mina’s dietary decisions, she takes it as a personal attack on her legitimacy as a mother and a person. Yet, some things should be said before it is too late.

Hungry paints an alarming portrait of everyday extremism and the slow but steady evolution of conventional vegetarianism to reckless child endangerment. It springs some abrupt course corrections on viewers, but there are reasons for the sharp tonal shifts. While the jokey prelude seems like it belongs in a different film, it helps explain why Jude defers to Mina for so long. There is always love there, but it turns into something very dark and ultimately dangerous.

Ordinarily, the nebbish Adam Driver and the pixyish Alba Rohrwacher would never look like a convincing couple, but cinematographer Fabio Cianchetti’s lens serves as a harsh leveler, ruthlessly focusing on and magnifying the imperfections of their skin. Frankly, in the case of Rohrwacher (who steamed up the screen in Soldini’s Come Undone) this is a much more complicated process, but she compellingly portrays Mina’s physical and emotional decline as she starts to shun direct sunlight and protein. It is a seriously scary transformation.

From "Hungry Hearts."

In contrast, Driver’s Jude always seems to be a step behind the beat, for no good reason. Just for the record, Mina never says to him: “Hey Jude, don’t let me down,” which seems like an obvious oversight. Regardless, they often seem to nurse special resentments only possible through intimate familiarity. There are also brief but pitch perfect supporting turns from Medium co-star Jake Weber as the calm but concerned pediatrician and Roberta Maxwell as Jude’s concerned but not necessarily calm mother.

Hungry is an honest and direct film, but the nearly two hour running time starts to feel punishing after ninety minutes or so. It is like the film is holding us hostage until we pledge to feed our future children healthy slabs of meat. Still, you can’t say it isn’t convincing on that score. Meat is good. The film is also quite good, despite a few stylistic excesses here and there. Recommended for fans of Italian cinema (in exile), Hungry Hearts screens this Sunday (5/3) at Montclair, but the Tribeca Film Festival had it first.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on April 30th, 2015 at 4:48pm.