Sweet Jesus!
Now Playing: KINGS AND QUEEN (2004, Arnaud Desplechin) [seen in theatre]
24 hours later, and I'm still trying to sort out my thoughts about this, the most exciting new film I've seen in ages. It's been a long time since I was able to completely surrender myself to a film, to allow it to carry me away on its shoulders so that I would forget that my moviewatching butt was planted in a seat, so it was no small feat that the film left me, quite frankly, gasping. I credit Desplechin's direction fully for this- his command of the medium here is staggering, and he's able to carry the audience in the palm of his hand even while careening through the ever-shifting tone of the film. It's these tonal fluctuations that are at the heart of KINGS AND QUEEN, which pulls off much more successfully what Woody Allen attempted with MELINDA TIMES TWO- comedy and tragedy, side by side, each playing off the other. Here, rather than attempting to unfold one premise in two different ways as Woody did, Desplechin introduces two very different characters and allows their personalities to dictate the tone of their respective storylines. Where Nora (Emmanuelle Devos), a single mother whose life has been touched numerous times by death- her first husband, and now her father, who has been diagnosed with cancer- has a tendency to bottle up her emotions to maintain the appearance of dignified strength, her second husband Ismael (Matthieu Amalric) has (in spite of being somewhat nuts) had a relatively good life, in that most of the unfortunate business that has occurred has been of his own doing. The two storylines exist largely independent of the other, intersecting only when Nora, worried about her own mortality, goes to convince Ismael to adopt her son in case she dies. Desplechin cuts back and forth between the heavy dealings in Nora's life and the more rambunctious action of Ismael's to shocking effect, subverting conventional emotional trajectories in favor of keeping the audience on edge, and it's breathtaking to behold- one minute, we bear witness to a heartbreaking scene involving Nora and her dying father (the skeletal Maurice Garrel), the next we see Ismael, slightly unhinged but resilient all the same, once again getting into ornery misadventures at the mental hospital. The film sails into the stratosphere, however, in the extended epilogue, in which (not to give too much away) Matthieu imparts some hard-earned wisdom to Nora's son- this sequence got me choked up, not least because Matthieu could just as easily have been talking to me when I was the boy's age. KINGS AND QUEEN is sure to have its detractors (any film that so stubbornly refuses to coddle the audience is bound to), but to my mind, it's alive in a way too films are anymore, and I'm excited to familiarize myself with the rest of Desplechin's work. So yeah, it's a masterpiece.

Rating: ****. Awwwwwwww yeahhhh boyeeeeeeee.

P.S.: In my excitement, I completely neglected to mention two points. First is the rating, which I've added above. Second, and more importantly, Catherine Deneuve, only my favorite actress EVER, has a supporting role as a shrink at the hospital where Amalric is being held. She only has a few scenes, but at least one of them- the one where he declares that "women have no soul"- is pretty classic.

24 1/2 Hours That Rocked My World
Now Playing: MILLIONS, KUNG FU HUSTLE, and DOWNFALL (all 2004)
It can be a frustrating life, the life of a film nerd. One sees one movie after another, observing those around him enjoying the action onscreen, only to be the killjoy when it's over when he proclaims "it was OK, but..." or something like that. Still, the true believers press on, and occasionally are rewarded by an unlikely run of awesomeness, which reaffirms their faith even while serving as the exception that proves the rule (the rule being that most movies aren't all that good). Well, let me say that this happened to me over the course of the last day or so- three films that ranged in quality from wonderful to astounding, leaving me (pardon the pun) reeling.

It began last night, at the end of a rough day in which I was sick to my stomach and spent most of my time in bed. Finally feeling better, I decided to catch Danny Boyle's MILLIONS, which was playing a few blocks from my house. The film ended up being exactly what I needed, a refreshing tonic to cutesy children's fare from a filmmaker generally associated with more adult-oriented work. MILLIONS is a lovely film about youthful idealism untainted by the compromises and pragmatic decisions that adults have to make. Damien (Alex Etel) is a good kid who idolizes the saints much like his classmates look up to football stars (he knows their dates of birth and death, as well as what they're the patron saints of), and when a bag of money falls seemingly from the sky, he takes this as a sign that God intends for him to work miracles. Some of the film's plot elements feel a little off-the-rack (such as the robber subplot) but the film is effective and moving as the portrait of a boy whose innocence and innate goodness are at odds with the world around him. Boyle's direction is stellar here, with some creative sequences (the building of the house sticks out in my mind), and the cinematography by the sinner Anthony Dod Mantle is shimmering, a 180-degree turn from his work with Lars Von Trier.

Now get this- of the films I've seen since last night, MILLIONS is my LEAST favorite.

This morning I had the pleasure of screening Stephen Chow's KUNG FU HUSTLE, an uproarious martial arts comedy that's leaps and bounds over Chow's last work, the diverting but somewhat uninspired SHAOLIN SOCCER. With KUNG FU HUSTLE, Chow pulls off an extremely delicate balancing act- he manages to make a film that pokes fun at the martial arts genre while also working as an exciting kickass action flick. That it works is all the more startling since the film is basically a live-action cartoon- the action scenes are heavily augmented with CGI to the point where the kung fu "masters" onscreen are capable of anatomically and physically impossible feats. The story begins as a war between an all-powerful gang and a slum ruled by martial arts masters in hiding, but it quickly becomes a riff on the "tournament" films like Bruce Lee made, in which great martial artists from all around face off for ever-rising stakes. Chow gives himself less of a central role this time out, and his direction here is a revelation, turning on a dime from broad parody to minute plot-oriented detail at the edge of the frame, sometimes within the same shot (for example, during the scene where he rescues "The Beast"). I won't say much more, since this film is best experienced without knowing much beforehand, but let me say this- about half an hour in, after the coolie, the noodle maker, and the sissy tailor fight off the gang, I thought there was no way the movie could get any better. And oh man, was I wrong.

The last awesome movie I caught couldn't be more different from KUNG FU HUSTLE. That film was DOWNFALL, a harrowing re-creation of the final days of the Third Reich. The film is anchored by a tour de force performance by Bruno Ganz, who plays- nay, embodies- Adolf Hitler with such conviction and skill that he disappears completely into the role (he's the first actor that I've seen who didn't play the role as a stunt). Ganz's Hitler is a man at the end of his tether, alcoholic, delusional, screaming at his officers, and the characters in the film can be divided into two camps- those who abandon Hitler to save their own hide, and the true believers in National Socialism, who stick by their leader and would commit suicide rather than betray him. The story is seen largely through the eyes of Hitler's personal secretary Traudl Junge (Alexandra Maria Lara), and director Oliver Hirschbiegel uses her and several other supporting characters as audience surrogates in order to navigate through the chaotic surroundings- a seemingly endless parade of advisors and generals, an ever growing number of soldiers getting drunk off the Fuhrer's booze, and various other characters who appear on the scene and disappear almost as quickly. It's an incredibly ambitious work, and a stunning achievement, with a number of scenes that linger in the memory- Hitler pinning medals on a group of heroic soldiers comprised largely of middle-school-aged teens, Speer's admission of disobeying orders, Hitler's divulging of his final plans to the soldier guarding his bedroom, and many more. Who knows what cinematic marvels tomorrow might bring?

Ratings:
MILLIONS: ***.
KUNG FU HUSTLE: ***1/2.
DOWNFALL: ***1/2.

Gah!!!
Now Playing: ...Catch-up on my reviewing duties
FEVER PITCH (2005, Peter and Bobby Farelly)- Amiable but slightly disappointing offering from the Farelly brothers, who get to indulge their love for the Sox and all things New England. I hate to be the kind of churl who takes the guys to task for making a movie that's "not funny enough," but right now I gotta be that churl- sure, the film's message that couples have to compromise and find room for each other's passions is a worthwhile one, but their previous film, STUCK ON YOU, was able to more adeptly balance warm observation and laugh-out-loud scenes of bizarre comedy. Also, this might have worked better at greater length, since the feeling of the year dragging on for the principal characters didn't really come across in the film at its present duration. Still, Fallon proves surprisingly charming, and Drew less surprisingly does her thing well. Rating: **1/2.

SAHARA (2005, Breck Eisner)- pretty stupid in spots, but with a real laid-back charm, inspired no doubt by the presence of McConaughey. Also, it's hard to hate a movie that twists itself in knots just to (SPOILER) pit a small army (tanks, choppers, etc.) against a Civil War-era cannon in the climactic scene (c'mon, you had to see that coming). Time for a moratorium on French villains played by Lambert Wilson though. Rating: **.

THE UPSIDE OF ANGER (2005, Mike Binder)- highly entertaining throughout, but also quite perceptive about its characters, even the most pathetic ones (as when Binder's lecherous deejay gets a chance to explain his preference for young ladies). Allen can play this character in her sleep, but she does it well, and Costner plays it loose to great effect. I loved the un-rushed way in which individual scenes were permitted to play out at their own pace, quite a contrast to most Hollywood offerings, which plow through the story to get to the end. And speaking of the end, I won't give it away except to say that it worked for me because of how it cast Terri's anger in a different light by removing the primary reason behind it. Rating: ***.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE'S THE MERCHANT OF VENICE (2004, Michael Radford)- Radford doesn't so much avoid the troubling racial politics of the play as simply explains them in terms of their historical context. This, combined with Pacino's Shylock, which is a sympathetic portrayal largely because of the actor's innate fierceness, is why the film (mostly) works- up until the unavoidable climactic courtroom scene, in which Shylock either gets what's coming to him (the prevailing view in Shakespeare's time) or is made the victim of racial persecution (more likely to be the prevailing view now). Either way, the lightly comic follow-up sequence involving a pair of rings feels anticlimatic and unsatisfying nowadays. Rating: **1/2.

FEAR AND LOATHING IN LAS VEGAS (1998, Terry Gilliam)- the more I watch this film, the less I enjoy it in a traditional sense, and the more I realize that I'm not really supposed to. It's best that the book couldn't get made into a film until decades later, in retrospect, since this film uses hindsight to posit the story as a portrait of a time when the idealism of the 60s had fully disintegrated (hence the San Francisco flashback) but the fallout from the tumultuous times (distrust of youth, the ever-impending culture wars) had just begun to spread. Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo's over-the-top attempts at hedonism are largely joyless, and purposely so- they can't keep the spirit alive, much as they try, when the rest of the world (particularly Vegas, which traffics in hedonism of a much more red-state stripe) refuses to join in. Rating: ***.

Also, I just saw a Sierra Mist Free commercial with Fred Willard and Michael McKean. Calling Christopher Guest! These guys need something better to do with their time.

Time Warp
Now Playing: The 2005 Sci-Fi Marathon
Due to an irregularity in numbering, no one could agree whether this was the 15th or the 22nd annual 24 Hour Science Fiction Marathon that transpired this weekend at the Drexel Grandview theatre. Personally, it was my fourth, and that there were people there who have been going for much longer than I have is enough explanation for me. The marathon kicked off, as usual, with DUCK DODGERS IN THE 24 1/2 CENTURY, which of course needs no introduction.

The first feature on the program was the original MOTHRA, which I enjoyed a little less than I should have probably because I saw the original GODZILLA on Friday night. Still, I was entertained by it, particularly by director Ishiro Honda's critique of America's plundering of world culture, as manifested in the film's Caucasian-looking villain, who steals two "tiny beauties" from a Pacific island and forces them to sing for big crowds, incurring the wrath of the title creature. Rating: **1/2.

PRIMER was the marathon's second feature and, to my mind, easily the best I saw there. In fact, I'd go so far as to call it the best sci-fi in years, in no small part because the science of it is completely convincing, in its own way. The film's storytelling is a little unclear in spots, but that's the point of the film, since the main characters (who essentially tie time in knots) are never quite clear about what's going on either. All I can say is that I was captivated throughout, and I'll write more on the film when I see it again, which will be as soon as possible. Rating: ***1/2.

STEAMBOY was the first disappointment of the day, an ambitious animated adventure that failed to sustain my interest. I enjoyed Otomo's AKIRA, but here he bites off too much, lavishing all his attention on re-creating a Victorian England in which some scientists might have considered steam a viable alternative to coal-burning, but bogging down the images in a plot that drags on and on. Also, points deducted for the supremely annoying supporting character of a young rich girl who always manages to pop up at inopportune moments. Rating: *1/2.

In the dubious tradition of ROBOT MONSTER comes FIRE MAIDENS FROM OUTER SPACE, a bargain-basement adventure story about a group of astronauts landing on a planet peopled by escapees from Atlantis, all of but one them attractive young women. The film doesn't even try to disguise its male fantasy aspects (an early scene pauses the action to follow a female secretary walking out of the room) or its no-budget production values (some of the insert shots are still photographs), but while it's not as awful as ROBOT MONSTER, it's nowhere near as bizarrely memorable either. Rating: *.

Next came the classic fiasco THE APPLE, a kind of death-of-disco-era FAUST set in 1994. What begins as a crazed extravaganza in the vein of XANADA turns out to be a disco-sucks movie, in which pop success comes from selling one's soul to a diabolical super-agent, and the protagonists end up finding salvation by hiding out with hippies. The songs are awful, the direction is terrible, and the performances generally range from forgettable to shrill, but the film is memorable as a warped Euro-trash vision of American pop culture. Rating: *1/2.

Michael Winterbottom's CODE 46 was a decidedly audience-unfriendly choice for a middle-of-the-night spot, not just because it's only slightly less action-packed than PRIMER but also because it's a fairly mediocre film. Tim Robbins and Samantha Morton are pretty good as a professional empath and the document-forger he loves, and Winterbottom's vision of a more culturally-integrated future world is certainly thought-provoking. However, the film doesn't really take off from the promise of its performances and setting, and the affair between the two principal characters (complete with a gratuitous closeup of Morton's genitalia) isn't particularly compelling. File this under "missed opportunity." Rating: **.

Due to print problems, the marathon's scheduled screening of the original ROLLERBALL was cancelled, and the last-minute surprise replacement was THE ABYSS. Thankfully, I like THE ABYSS and it's been a while since I watched it, so I didn't mind too much. In some respect, THE ABYSS is James Cameron's most mature work, utilizing Michael Biehn's crazed Navy SEAL villain as a critique of Cameron's tendency towards type-A macho action heroes. At the same time, the "NTIs" in the film feel like a manifestation of Cameron's own scientific curiosity, the hoped-for outcome of his undersea exploration and the stint on MIR that he hopes to take in the future. Also, Ed Harris' performance holds up very well. Rating: ***.

AT THE EARTH'S CORE was the final film I stayed for, although I nodded off in a few parts so I can't give a full assessment. What I saw was pretty uninspired, with hero Doug McClure and sidekick Peter Cushing burrowing down in the Earth and finding a civilization of humans enslaved by pterodactyl-like captors. Pretty much your basic paint-by-numbers adventure, with McClure uniting the warring tribes, fighting laughable-looking monsters, falling in love with a beautiful princess, and generally saving the day.

I left about ten minutes into the MATRIX spoof THE HELIX LOADED, a dirt-cheap parody full of stoner humor that didn't generate a single laugh from me the whole time I watched it. Still to come were SKY CAPTAIN AND THE WORLD OF TOMORROW, which I've seen, and FIRST MEN IN THE MOON, which didn't sound interesting enough to make me stick around.

All in all, a pretty good marathon, but with a bit too much schlock and not enough real classic sci-fi to balance it out. Still, the only real disappointment for me was that they couldn't show the marathon favorite GRAVITY. Ah well, I've seen it enough, I suppose.

Sin City - **1/2
Now Playing: (2005, Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller) [seen in theatre]
Having read one of the storylines- THAT YELLOW BASTARD- that the filmmakers use in this film, I can attest to Rodriguez's fidelity to the source material. Every image and every line hearkens back to its corresponding frame in the original, no doubt much to the delight of Miller, who was so afraid of having his vision tainted by filmmakers. However, whether this faithfulness makes for a good film is a somewhat tougher call. It's certainly great eye candy (the black-and-white DV is often gorgeous), and fans of the graphic novels will have ample opportunities to geek out, but I was left a little cold by the cinematic "translation." Rodriguez's commitment to Miller's original works is certainly admirable, but in the execution it feels more than a little sterile, with attention to images taking precedence over their impact here. The mean streets of Basin City and the archetypal characters that prowl them (by night, naturally) take on a rough poetry on the page, but most of the flesh-and-blood actors of the film play these characters superficially, doing little to hint at their no doubt hard-luck backstories. The major exception is comeback kid Mickey Rourke as Marv, a hood whose fate was imprinted on his hardened face- Rourke's performance is easily the film's most touching, as he finds himself driven to avenge the death of the only woman who ever treated him with kindness, if only for one night. Rodriguez is obviously jazzed about filmmaking in general, and about SIN CITY in particular, and so it's a shame that he's not quite filmmaker enough to elicit that same excitement in audiences.

WHOA! You just passed the best scrapple in Penna. Back 500 Yards
Now Playing: Films viewed recently
I said I'd write when I felt like it, so here I am again. Not a lot to say on recent releases, but a little more to say about a certain wicked-awesome 80s classic referenced in the title of this post. More on that later...

MISS CONGENIALITY 2: ARMED AND FABULOUS (2005, Josh Pasquin)- Yuck. A colossal miscalculation all around, a vanity project (Sandra Bullock stars, produces, exec-produces the SOUNDTRACK ALBUM, and entrusts her pet screenwriter to give her just about all the would-be funny bits) that somehow manages to be completely off the mark when it comes to the star's persona. She's not a glamorpuss, she'll never be a glamorpuss, and so the entire first two-thirds of the movie where she pretends to be one are just a waste of time. But then, so's the final third, just not for the same reason. And speaking of waste, Regina King deserves better than this. Rating: *.

GUERRILLA: THE TAKING OF PATTY HEARST (2004, Robert Stone)- a serviceable telling of a curious chapter in 20th century American history, but limited by the small number of viewpoints that actually provide some insight into the Hearst circus. Not nearly as compelling as 2002's THE WEATHER UNDERGROUND, which admittedly provided more of an inside look, and focused on a legitimately ambitious band of militants rather than a group that was pretty much a one-hit wonder. Although the SLA was referenced in "Judy Is a Punk," so that's something. Rating: **.

REMORQUES (1940, Jean Gremillon)- atmosphere and plenty of it, with a reliably cool Jean Gabin lead performance and some good cinematography. However, pretty minor compared to some of the star's classics. Rating: **1/2.

LA NUIT FANTASTIQUE (1941, Marcel l'Herbier)- An innocuous rom-com about a man who confuses his dream life with his waking life. I was tired and the opening minutes weren't doing much for me, so when my eyes drifted shut I didn't fight it, dreaming that I was watching a better movie instead. What I saw after waking up was mildly diverting, nothing more.

SOMETHING WILD (1986, Jonathan Demme)- I remember liking this back in the day when I first saw it, but years later I find that it's pretty damned amazing. Demme and screenwriter E. Max Frye tell their story with gusto, plunging almost instantaneously into a whirlwind plot, as Audrey (Melanie Griffith, before she got annoying) forces Charlie (Jeff Daniels) far outside his comfort zone. Reminded me this time of one of my favorite films (scroll down to #60), not just for their similar tendency to shift directions narratively and tonally, but also for their amused but not condescending looks at small-town America. Both Herzog and Demme are able to marvel at the small wonders of "flyover country" without lampooning it, and SOMETHING WILD is full of priceless touches- the roadside sign with the message you see in this post's title, the gas station/gift shop where Jeff Daniels purchases a cheap "Virginia Is For Lovers" t-shirt, and so on. Demme also has a special fondness for bruised characters, both literally and figuratively, and Audrey and Charlie are two of his best. Also, Ray Liotta rules in this, coming out of nowhere to introduce darkness to the film just when it needs it most. Rating: ***1/2.

French DVD double feature of the week
Now Playing: RED LIGHTS and NOT ON THE LIPS
As much as I love the Wexner Center, it's tough basically being Columbus' one-stop shop for real art movies (or the ones released by distributors not affiliated with the big studios anyway), so they inevitably miss some good titles. So I caught up with two recent French films that didn't make it to town, one that wasn't widely released in the US, and the other that wasn't released here at all. The first one I saw was RED LIGHTS (2004, Cedric Kahn), a suspense film adapted from a Georges Simenon novel. As in Patrice Leconte's masterful MONSIEUR HIRE (1989), also based on a Simenon novel, RED LIGHTS has an unconventional and highly flawed protagonist, in this case Antoine Dunan, a shlubby insurance man played by Jean-Pierre Darroussin. Antoine, after twelve years of marriage to Helene (Carole Bouquet), is a mess of insecurities, and the first third of the film is effective as a portrait of a marriage gone stagnant- she seems to be more successful at her job than he is at his, he has a poor tendency to drink when he's idle, and she knows exactly what buttons to press to rile him up. While on a road trip to pick up their two children at camp, Antoine is driving drunk, and he stops for another whisky she threatens to leave him behind, and when he comes back to the car she's gone. From that point the suspense kicks in, first as Antoine races from train station to train station trying to catch her (to no avail) and then as he picks up precisely the last hitch-hiker he should allow in his car. The film's third act hinges on a coincidence that is a bit of a stretch, but Kahn manages to pull it off nicely. Kahn's directing chops really reveal themselves in his editing here, as in a montage of Antoine downing one beer after another near the beginning of the film, along with an extended series of telephone calls in the third act (there's also one very memorable shock cut at a key point in the film). Darroussin's performance is among the best of 2004- unlike many actors, he actually manages to underplay the character's drunken state, pinpointing Antoine's lack of precision and sluggishness instead of indulging in scenery-guzzling histrionics, and turning Antoine into a festering wound of a man, an anti-action hero. Rating: ***.

Even better is NOT ON THE LIPS (2003, Alain Resnais), a delightful and surprisingly substantial musical farce that, for some odd reason, never got a U.S. theatrical release. J. Ro seems to think that the reason for this has to do with the film's one American character, a tight-assed businessman named Eric Thomson (Lambert Wilson), but seeing as he was one of my favorite characters in the film, I can't say for sure (perhaps it has something to do with how humorless many Americans tend to be when it comes to our country). Wilson's performance in the film is a small gem- an actor who has lately specialized in Eurotrash villains (SAHARA, CATWOMAN, the MATRIX sequels), he relishes the chance to turn the tables, overdoing the cartoonish American accent for Francophone audiences and sounding less like an average Chicago native than a constipated James Coburn. But I digress... NOT ON THE LIPS is enchanting from the get-go, with opening credits read over silhouettes of the performers, and once the story begins (with bit players ceding the stage to the principals) I was pretty much hooked. The story is classic farce- Gilberte (Sabine Azema) was once married to Eric (Wilson) while in the U.S., and due to a technicality the marriage isn't recognized by the French government, leaving Gilberte's second husband Georges (Pierre Arditi) with the impression that his wife is the paragon of virtue, and when Georges brings home an American with whom he's negotiating a deal, he turns out, of course, to be Eric. This is merely the central thread of the action, which also includes Gilberte's spinster sister Arlette (Isabelle Nanty, who's great here), young artist Charly (Jalil Lespert), marriage-minded ingenue Huguette (Audrey Tautou), aging bachelor Faradel (Daniel Prevost), and, in the third act, snooping landlady Madame Foin (Darry Cowl). As is the case with many farces, the film's narrative serves to underline how messy life can get when everyone's needs and desires are piled on top of each other. Resnais' direction is lovely, sometimes opting for extended takes (particularly during the songs) but also capable of witty cinematic flourishes- characters dissolving as they exit, an instance of shot-reverse-shot used to move the characters between rooms abruptly, and (in the climactic scene) a closeup of a woman's feet slowly walking and then suddenly rising up into the air (you'll know why when you see the film). NOT ON THE LIPS is a real gem, and I regret that I may never have the chance to see it as Resnais intended, on the silver screen. Rating: ***1/2.

Burnout Blues
Now Playing: Hands... getting... heavy...
So I've gotten pretty burned out lately from writing about just about everything I see, even if I stick to informal 300-word posts. I understand that some other online folks have no problem doing this, but right now I'm just not feeling it anymore. So to all my regular readers (Jason, Chris, Jim, Kevin, Matt, Mike, Erik- anybody else, if I've forgotten you, sorry), I'd like to announce that I'm going to be cutting back again for the time being. I'll try to write tiny little pieces on the new stuff, and anything else when the mood strikes me, but I'm not the proverbial tube of toothpaste and it's getting harder and harder to squeeze out reviews. If I feel like writing something longer, I will. If I don't feel like writing about a film, don't take it personally- it'll still show up (with a rating) on my screening log.

On this note... some films I've viewed recently:

THE RING TWO (2005, Hideo[us] Nakata)- sparing no expense to create weird imagery is not the same as crafting a creepy movie. Largely missing in the atmosphere that made its Hollywood predecessor a semi-pleasant surprise; Nakata is clearly no Gore Verbinski. Naomi Watts gives her least interesting performance since her pre-MULHOLLAND days- she was lousy in 21 GRAMS, yes, but over-the-top beats listless any day. Studios, if you're going to make a sequel, try coming up with an interesting title instead of just "HIT MOVIE 2" so we can pretend it's not just for money. Rating: *.

AFTER DARK, MY SWEET (1990, James Foley)- a cracking good example of what I call Sucker Noir- a poor sucker backs into a situation that spins out of control, despite (or sometimes because of) his efforts. The filmmakers trust the story enough to take their time letting it unfold, and when it all comes tumbling down on Collie (Jason Patric) it's all the more effective for being understated. Both Patric and Foley remains sadly undervalued by Hollywood due to some subpar work, but when they get something meaty they're both great. Rating went up half a star during the film's final five minutes, which are wonderfully tense. Rating: ***1/2.

BAD EDUCATION (2004, Pedro Almodovar)- Pedro's noir-inflected latest film isn't quite as awesome as TALK TO HER, but still highly enjoyable. The director's usual knack for strange set pieces is kept largely in check here, but this isn't really that kind of film anyway- with narratives within narratives, a "Shrinking Lover"-style detour would most likely be too much for most people. In what amounts to a triple role, Gael Garcia Bernal hasn't been this good since, like, ever, with bonus points for actually looking pretty hot in drag (a little like Julia Roberts, but less equine). Alberto Iglesias' Herrmann-inflected score is a standout. One petty gripe: not enough Javier Camara. Rating: ***.

MODEL SHOP (1969, Jacques Demy)- Demy's Hollywood excursion (and the latest Secret Cinema selection) is the third in a sort of trilogy with LOLA and THE UMBRELLAS OF CHERBOURG- while CHERBOURG found LOLA's sad-faced romantic Roland some years down the line, MODEL SHOP discovers Lola herself, now living in Los Angeles. The opening shot, another of Demy's patented long pullbacks (see also: BAY OF ANGELS) reeled me in instantly, but what really got to me was the deliberately non-naturalistic dialogue (for example, "I'm afraid of death, I just realized that now"), which just as easily could have been song lyrics in another Demy film. The dynamic between Lola/Cecile (Anouk Aimee again) and George (Gary Lockwood) is a quintessentially Demy-esque setup, two people who find each other but who know it can't last; George is deep down a romantic and he's just been drafted, Lola has been burned by her man in the big Cadillac and isn't looking for love, particularly on the eve of her move back to France. Also an awesome L.A. film, with lots of driving around and listening to music, a kind of warts'n'all valentine to the City of Angels ("lots of people hate L.A., but I love it"). In a way, the film that the movie-drunk Demy was working toward all through his sixties work. Rating: ***1/2.

Films by Peter Lynch
Now Playing: Wexner Center retrospective
Strange, witty and very Canadian, the work of Peter Lynch tends to focus on obsessive men who pit themselves against the forces of nature. In his most famous film, the cult hit PROJECT GRIZZLY (1996), Lynch trains his camera on Troy Hurtubise, a blue-collar worker who has designed a special suit that will (hopefully) engage a grizzly bear in hand-to-hand combat. The film shows Hurtubise testing out the unwieldy-looking suit, the sixth attempt to date, using such techniques as ramming it with a 400-pound swinging log and a 3000-pound truck (both with Troy inside) and shooting it with arrows and bullets (thankfully, without him inside). However, when Troy finally gets his chance to actually use the suit, he discovers that it's nearly impossible to move in the bear's natural habitat, so it's back to the drawing board. The film contains a number of laughs (many of the disbelieving variety), and Troy Hurtubise proves an engaging subject, though I'm sure not all would agree.

Lynch's subsequent film, THE HERD (1998), is less comedic in tone, focusing instead on a forgotten incident in Canadian history. In 1929, the Canadian government organized a project to move several thousand reindeer from northern Alaska to Canada's Mackenzie Valley. The expedition was headed by experienced "reindeer man" Andy Bahr, then in his early sixties, with the mission scheduled to take roughly a year and a half. Instead, faced with bitter cold, harsh winds, plummeting morale and deserting deer, the move took six years to complete, and at various points the film cuts away from re-enactments of the drive itself to actors playing various figures who had stakes in the project, including Colm Feore as a biologist who questions Bahr's methods and Don McKellar as a clerk who keeps track of project setbacks in the comfy confined of an office. Bahr's first-person accounts are read by Graham Greene, and the narration is prone at many points to poetic flourishes, the most memorable of which is:

Big fleas have little fleas
Upon their backs to bite 'em,
And smaller fleas have lesser fleas,
And so ad infinitum.

Lynch's most recent film A WHALE OF A TALE (2004) finds the director himself at the center of the story. While doing some background work for a project involving a buried bone found in a city, he stumbled on a real-life incident similar to the one he was writing about, which inspired this film. Lynch is infinitely curious about this bone (the vertebra of a whale of some kind), and his quest takes him all over, from the Eastern seaboard to a paleontologist in St. Louis, even briefly to the West coast. During the film, the director floats a number of compelling theories as to the bone's origin- a missing piece from a dead whale discarded from a circus, to name one example- and when the professionals prove to be of little help he takes the bone to various self-anointed "whale experts," who even without degrees have devoted a great deal of time to piecing together whale skeletons. When Lynch finally gets a semi-definite answer to the nature of the bone, it's much less exciting to him than the stories he had conjured in his mind.

Due to shipping problems, the Wex was only able to screen the first hour of CYBERMAN (2000), Lynch's film about a man who augments his perception of the world using computers. However, what I saw was certainly of a piece with Lynch's other films. The film's protagonist, Steve Mann, is so singlemindedly committed to his "better living through cybernetics" lifestyle that he is less concerned with practical science than with his own pet obsessions. I also thorougly enjoyed two of Lynch's early shorts, ARROWHEAD and ST. BRUNO, MY EYES AS A STRANGER (both 1993). ARROWHEAD is a hilarious short that features Don McKellar as a kind of man-child leading a camera crew on a tour of his childhood home, ostensibly to discuss his finding of a mastodon on the complex. The hero of ST. BRUNO is a man who takes photographs of his family, friends and neighbors in Toronto's Little Italy, and the film is effective as a reflection of how one man sees the community in which he grew up.

Ratings:
Project Grizzly and The Herd: ***.
A Whale of a Tale: **1/2.

Jason, please don't read this...
Now Playing: Seriously dude, you've been warned...
BRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2004, Gurinder Chadha)- having seen (and enjoyed) a number of Bollywood films, I held out some hope that this might be a good facsimile, a kind of entry point for American audiences curious as to what the hubbub is about. Alas, it wasn't to be- the film lacks the color and energy that characterize the best Bollywood cinema has to offer. Rather than playing up the distinctive elements of Bombay studio filmmaking (outrageous musical numbers, unabashed melodrama, heaving-bosom romance, etc.), Chadha opts to make a film from the American rom-com template (the plot's "inspired" by Austen, which is like saying that veggie burgers were inspired by a cow), with some Indian flavor added for spice. Mostly, Chadha isn't director enough to pull off the material- the energy she brings to the film is of the pre-fab TV-friendly variety, rather than the cranked-up gusto it takes to make a good Bollywood entertainment. Aishwarya Rai is a natural at this kind of role, that of the outspoken and independent-minded daughter, and she's pretty good in her first English-language turn as Lalita, but what's with Martin Henderson as her love interest? His surfer-dude looks and vanilla acting are all wrong for the character, who should seem like he's holding something in reserve for most of the film to be brought out by Lalita. As played by Henderson, he's pretty bland, a pushover compared to his strong-willed costar. As for the musical numbers, I was unimpressed. The colors looked strangely muted, Chadha's camera movements prosaic, and the songs themselves forgettable at best. Or maybe the fact that they were in English just underlined how insipid some of the lyrics were, while when real Bollywood songs get silly I can just concentrate on how pretty the words sound. On a positive note, BRIDE AND PREJUDICE is roughly half the length of the usual Bollywood fare, which was good, since I don't think I could've taken much more than I did. Rating: *1/2.

BORN INTO BROTHELS (2004, Zana Briski and Ross Kaufmann)- This one's more problematic, since on the one hand life in the Calcutta red light districts ("the worst place on Earth," according to Lars Von Trier) is something that cries out to be seen by Western audiences, as an example of the difficult conditions in which some people are living. Yet the film itself doesn't quite work, and it's a little hard to pinpoint why. Some of it probably has to do with the limitations imposed on the filmmakers- the adults living and working in the brothels didn't trust the Westerners in their midst, so Briski and Kaufmann instead focus on the children, who use the cameras the filmmakers give them to chronicle their way of life. So while we see some of the conditions in which they live, we aren't shown or told enough to really make us feel the hardship of their lives. The filmmakers don't seem to be very sure whether they want the children to TELL the story or to BE the story, so the film becomes a kind of mishmash- we see their photographs, and by extension their world, but this is intercut with scenes in which they're taken on various day trips so that they can take snapshots. Eventually the photography aspect of the film overwhelms everything else, as the film begins to focus largely on the filmmakers' aesthetic appreciation for the kids' work, and Briski attempts to use the photographs to get the children into boarding schools and out of the red light district. Which, granted, is a worthy cause- Lord knows these kids could benefit from a good education and environment- but too much of the focus is thrown on this Western woman (who isn't shown to have much of a personality) in her noble quest to better the lives of third-world kids (I smell Oscar-bait!). Even in interviews with the children, they are shown talking less about how hard their lives are than about photography and the importance of a good education, which means (a) the kids just didn't talk about the unpleasant stuff, or (b) the filmmakers steered the conversations away from this or just cut it out of the film (this option seems more likely). Ultimately, when the film is over, and audience learns that some of the kids have escaped their cruel fates and others have not, the film hadn't really hammered home what was at stake, leaving Briski to tell us how bad it is in the brothels and how important it is for them to escape. As such, the important story of Calcutta's red light district remains largely untouched by Western filmmakers, lying in wait until a bolder filmmaker- perhaps one who feels less connected to the cute kids- feels prepared to tackle it. Rating: **.