"House"

DVD Movie Review

Directed by Nobuhiko Obayashi, running time, 88 minutes, unrated.

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

1960s and '70s Japanese modernist cinema has enjoyed a much-deserved resurgence as of late. Directors such as Ozu, Kurosawa, Suzuki and Oshima have all had major retrospectives within the last year and the Criterion Collection and Janus Films have played an integral part in ensuring that important Japanese cinema is available to audiences nationwide.

The most recent Japanese film de jour, "House (Hausu)," is also enjoying a newfound popularity.

Following a theatrical release, director Nobuhiko Obayashi’s "House" was recently released (with juicy extras) by Criterion. The DVD gives mainstream audiences the chance to see what may be one of the most unique pieces of cinema ever made.

The film tells the story of seven nubile Japanese schoolgirls’ summer visit to a relative’s house. The girls’ visit quickly takes a turn for the crazy as they discover that a spirit haunts the house. Obayashi tries to explain the spirit by showing that it has been cursed ever since the fiancé of its inhabitant (one of the school girls’ aunt) died during WWII. Rhyme and reason take a back seat in this film as the girls one-by-one fall victim to the houses curse. Each death is more ridiculous than the last and leaves you wondering what and who Obayashi’s inspirations could possibly have been (a question thankfully answered in the special features).

Obayashi’s directorial choices are as perplexing as the story itself as his characters traverse various psychedelic painted landscapes on their way to the house. Tangential characters and stories are interspersed throughout and always provide a welcome respite from the craziness taking place in the house. These scenes, which are as perplexing as much of the film, are frequently downright funny and allow Obayashi to do whatever he wants.

That’s not to say the rest of the film is controlled. What’s great about this film is it’s complete lack of touch with cinematic expectations and rules. Obayashi does whatever he wants. The film is part slapstick, part psychedelic, part musical, part pseudo-porn--and that’s all within the first 15 minutes.

The special features are enlightening and interesting. In particular, the interview with Obayashi and his daughter provide details about the film’s conception that should be mandatory for all viewers. House is a roller coaster and we should all thank Obayashi for taking us along for the ride.

Grade: A

"House"

DVD Movie Review

Directed by Nobuhiko Obayashi, running time, 88 minutes, unrated.

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

1960s and '70s Japanese modernist cinema has enjoyed a much-deserved resurgence as of late. Directors such as Ozu, Kurosawa, Suzuki and Oshima have all had major retrospectives within the last year and the Criterion Collection and Janus Films have played an integral part in ensuring that important Japanese cinema is available to audiences nationwide.

The most recent Japanese film de jour, "House (Hausu)," is also enjoying a newfound popularity.

Following a theatrical release, director Nobuhiko Obayashi’s "House" was recently released (with juicy extras) by Criterion. The DVD gives mainstream audiences the chance to see what may be one of the most unique pieces of cinema ever made.

The film tells the story of seven nubile Japanese schoolgirls’ summer visit to a relative’s house. The girls’ visit quickly takes a turn for the crazy as they discover that a spirit haunts the house. Obayashi tries to explain the spirit by showing that it has been cursed ever since the fiancé of its inhabitant (one of the school girls’ aunt) died during WWII. Rhyme and reason take a back seat in this film as the girls one-by-one fall victim to the houses curse. Each death is more ridiculous than the last and leaves you wondering what and who Obayashi’s inspirations could possibly have been (a question thankfully answered in the special features).

Obayashi’s directorial choices are as perplexing as the story itself as his characters traverse various psychedelic painted landscapes on their way to the house. Tangential characters and stories are interspersed throughout and always provide a welcome respite from the craziness taking place in the house. These scenes, which are as perplexing as much of the film, are frequently downright funny and allow Obayashi to do whatever he wants.

That’s not to say the rest of the film is controlled. What’s great about this film is it’s complete lack of touch with cinematic expectations and rules. Obayashi does whatever he wants. The film is part slapstick, part psychedelic, part musical, part pseudo-porn--and that’s all within the first 15 minutes.

The special features are enlightening and interesting. In particular, the interview with Obayashi and his daughter provide details about the film’s conception that should be mandatory for all viewers. House is a roller coaster and we should all thank Obayashi for taking us along for the ride.

Grade: A

"The Secret in Their Eyes"  

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Juan Jose Campanella, Written by Eduardo Sacheri and Campanella, 127 Minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"The Secret in Their Eyes" was the unexpected winner of this year's Oscar for Best Foreign Film, triumphing over the expected shoe-ins "A Prophet" and "The White Ribbon." What can I say--it may have been an upset, but I can't think of stiffer competition than this gem.

The film is an interesting mix of a thriller, romance and detective story, blending these genres to tell a story that spans two decades and concerns the passions and memories of multiple figures surrounding the rape and murder of a young woman in Buenos Aires in 1974.

Twenthy years after the murder, retired federal justice agent Benjamin Esposito (Ricardo Darin) begins writing a novel dramatizing the events he witnessed while investigating the murder, including his secret love for his superior Irene Menendez-Hastings (Soledad Villamil), his rough relationship with his partner Pablo Sandoval (Guillermo Francella), and the ambiguous mystery of who actually committed the crime, the woman's husband Ricardo or her sociopathic childhood friend Gomez. As Benjamin, just returning to Buenos Aires after years working elsewhere, shows his story to the now married Irene, we flashback to the investigation and watch the relationship between the two develop in both timelines.

Technically, the film is an absolute marvel. Makeup and probably some subtle CGI allow the actors to portray their characters in both timelines, avoiding the dilemma films like this tend to have with different actors portraying the same characters and thus emotional connections getting shattered in the process. The film itself is shot beautifully, especially the gorgeous opening scene and one epic-length five minute take where Benjamin and Sandoval chase Gomez through a packed soccer stadium that allegedly took three days to shoot and nine months to edit.

But the film really succeeds through its story, which is perfectly told and which strikes a perfect balance between its multiple characters, styles, and timelines. Telling what is basically a traditional detective story through retrospect is pretty inspired, and it allows the film to tell a flat-out entertaining mystery as well as explore themes of memory and how dwelling on our memories can ruin us. As one character says, "Stop dwelling on memories. You'll start thinking of how things could be different. You'll have a thousand pasts and no future."

Darin, who has worked with director Juan Jose Campanella in his last four films, is fantastic as Esposito, but credit really has to go to the whole cast, who portray their characters (young and old) with immense subtlety and heart. Their performances make it feel almost immediately like we know their characters. And for a film that often focuses on the unspoken truths we can see just in each others gaze, each actor can tell a whole story just with their eyes. When Esposito looks into Irene's eyes, we know he's loved her since he first saw her. When he looks at his partner Sandoval, we see the pity he has for the poor drunk, but also the admiration and respect they share for one another despite their differences. And the absolute terror Gomez can create with one glance is astounding.

I'm not sure I'd say this film definitely deserved the Oscar--it's too tough to really choose when all the nominees were among the best of last year--but I think it definitely earned its place next to such great works as "A Prophet" and "Ajami" and hopefully its win will get it the attention it deserves from audiences.

Grade: A

View the trailer for "The Secret in Their Eyes" below.  What are your thoughts?

"The Secret in Their Eyes"  

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Directed by Juan Jose Campanella, Written by Eduardo Sacheri and Campanella, 127 Minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"The Secret in Their Eyes" was the unexpected winner of this year's Oscar for Best Foreign Film, triumphing over the expected shoe-ins "A Prophet" and "The White Ribbon." What can I say--it may have been an upset, but I can't think of stiffer competition than this gem.

The film is an interesting mix of a thriller, romance and detective story, blending these genres to tell a story that spans two decades and concerns the passions and memories of multiple figures surrounding the rape and murder of a young woman in Buenos Aires in 1974.

Twenthy years after the murder, retired federal justice agent Benjamin Esposito (Ricardo Darin) begins writing a novel dramatizing the events he witnessed while investigating the murder, including his secret love for his superior Irene Menendez-Hastings (Soledad Villamil), his rough relationship with his partner Pablo Sandoval (Guillermo Francella), and the ambiguous mystery of who actually committed the crime, the woman's husband Ricardo or her sociopathic childhood friend Gomez. As Benjamin, just returning to Buenos Aires after years working elsewhere, shows his story to the now married Irene, we flashback to the investigation and watch the relationship between the two develop in both timelines.

Technically, the film is an absolute marvel. Makeup and probably some subtle CGI allow the actors to portray their characters in both timelines, avoiding the dilemma films like this tend to have with different actors portraying the same characters and thus emotional connections getting shattered in the process. The film itself is shot beautifully, especially the gorgeous opening scene and one epic-length five minute take where Benjamin and Sandoval chase Gomez through a packed soccer stadium that allegedly took three days to shoot and nine months to edit.

But the film really succeeds through its story, which is perfectly told and which strikes a perfect balance between its multiple characters, styles, and timelines. Telling what is basically a traditional detective story through retrospect is pretty inspired, and it allows the film to tell a flat-out entertaining mystery as well as explore themes of memory and how dwelling on our memories can ruin us. As one character says, "Stop dwelling on memories. You'll start thinking of how things could be different. You'll have a thousand pasts and no future."

Darin, who has worked with director Juan Jose Campanella in his last four films, is fantastic as Esposito, but credit really has to go to the whole cast, who portray their characters (young and old) with immense subtlety and heart. Their performances make it feel almost immediately like we know their characters. And for a film that often focuses on the unspoken truths we can see just in each others gaze, each actor can tell a whole story just with their eyes. When Esposito looks into Irene's eyes, we know he's loved her since he first saw her. When he looks at his partner Sandoval, we see the pity he has for the poor drunk, but also the admiration and respect they share for one another despite their differences. And the absolute terror Gomez can create with one glance is astounding.

I'm not sure I'd say this film definitely deserved the Oscar--it's too tough to really choose when all the nominees were among the best of last year--but I think it definitely earned its place next to such great works as "A Prophet" and "Ajami" and hopefully its win will get it the attention it deserves from audiences.

Grade: A

View the trailer for "The Secret in Their Eyes" below.  What are your thoughts?

Netflix It!: “The Way Home”

DVD Movie Review

Directed by Lee Jeong-hyang

By our guest blogger, Julie Lam

Feeling pensive on a lazy Sunday afternoon? Take a break from the 3D bonanza and soak up some warm rays from Lee Jung-hyang’s acclaimed South Korean gem. A surprise box-office hit, the film beat out several top-grossing American blockbusters such as "Spiderman," "Oceans Eleven" and "A Beautiful Mind" in the Korean market.

"Dedicated to grandmothers everywhere," “The Way Home” tells how one grandmother’s unwavering selfless love leads to one young boy’s awakening.

We see the brattish Sang-Woo (Yu Seung-ho) aggressively playing his Gameboy as he and his bone-tired mother ride in a ramshackle bus through the Korean countryside. The busgoers annoy Sang-Woo because of their ‘basic-needs’ lifestyle, and we’re already irritated with Sang-Woo. Mom needs to go job-hunting again so she’s leaving Sang-Woo in the hands of her 78-year-old mute, hunchbacked mother (Kim Eul-boon). The grandmother is a paragon of patience and self-sacrifice. Her face is the kind that can only truly be captured by close-up photojournalism.

During the months that ensue, Sang-Woo wreaks havoc among his grandmother’s household. He urinates on his grandmother’s clogs, forcing her to journey barefoot over rocky terrain to retrieve water. He barely looks at her and even calls her a retard.

The grandmother, on the other hand, responds with nothing but unrelenting love. She travels into the village’s heart and undergoes many hardships just so Sang-Woo can have Kentucky Fried Chicken one night--and of course, the meal wasn’t what he expected, so he bawls his eyes out. Sang-Woo is a sourpuss who makes us question his mother's bad parenting. But part of this film’s staying power lies with its audience participation--in this case, our ability to react viscerally with its characters.

When his insolence has us approaching the edge, the director mitigates it by showing Sang-Woo's increments of appreciation for his mute grandmother.  By the end, he cannot bear to leave her.

Aside from reaffirming the "love surpasses language metaphor," “The Way Home” pulls and lulls with great emotional power and speaks with a cultural sensibility that doesn’t alienate as many foreign films do.

Grade: A-

Netflix It!: “The Way Home”

DVD Movie Review

Directed by Lee Jeong-hyang

By our guest blogger, Julie Lam

Feeling pensive on a lazy Sunday afternoon? Take a break from the 3D bonanza and soak up some warm rays from Lee Jung-hyang’s acclaimed South Korean gem. A surprise box-office hit, the film beat out several top-grossing American blockbusters such as "Spiderman," "Oceans Eleven" and "A Beautiful Mind" in the Korean market.

"Dedicated to grandmothers everywhere," “The Way Home” tells how one grandmother’s unwavering selfless love leads to one young boy’s awakening.

We see the brattish Sang-Woo (Yu Seung-ho) aggressively playing his Gameboy as he and his bone-tired mother ride in a ramshackle bus through the Korean countryside. The busgoers annoy Sang-Woo because of their ‘basic-needs’ lifestyle, and we’re already irritated with Sang-Woo. Mom needs to go job-hunting again so she’s leaving Sang-Woo in the hands of her 78-year-old mute, hunchbacked mother (Kim Eul-boon). The grandmother is a paragon of patience and self-sacrifice. Her face is the kind that can only truly be captured by close-up photojournalism.

During the months that ensue, Sang-Woo wreaks havoc among his grandmother’s household. He urinates on his grandmother’s clogs, forcing her to journey barefoot over rocky terrain to retrieve water. He barely looks at her and even calls her a retard.

The grandmother, on the other hand, responds with nothing but unrelenting love. She travels into the village’s heart and undergoes many hardships just so Sang-Woo can have Kentucky Fried Chicken one night--and of course, the meal wasn’t what he expected, so he bawls his eyes out. Sang-Woo is a sourpuss who makes us question his mother's bad parenting. But part of this film’s staying power lies with its audience participation--in this case, our ability to react viscerally with its characters.

When his insolence has us approaching the edge, the director mitigates it by showing Sang-Woo's increments of appreciation for his mute grandmother.  By the end, he cannot bear to leave her.

Aside from reaffirming the "love surpasses language metaphor," “The Way Home” pulls and lulls with great emotional power and speaks with a cultural sensibility that doesn’t alienate as many foreign films do.

Grade: A-

"Close-Up"
Directed by Abbas Kiarostami, written by Abbas Kiarostami, 98 minutes, Unrated.

"The Traveler"
Directed by Abbas Kiarostami, written by Abbas Kiarostami, 74 minutes, Unrated

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

Every film I see I get a curious feeling I’ve seen it before. Narrative structure and the stories filmmakers tell have (for the most part) become so homogenized that no matter what film you see, it feels like déjà vu. Judd Apatow and the Apatowesque films illustrate this perfectly. For the most part if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. They have similar narrative arcs, preoccupations and senses of humor. It’s rare when one has the opportunity to watch something so entirely unique and fresh that it shocks you into submission and holds you captive for every minute. Abbas Kiarostami’s “Close-Up” is so brilliantly conceived and well made that it does just that.

Kiarostami’s film (recently released for the first time by Criterion Collection) seamlessly blends documentary footage and recreations as he tells the true story of Hossain Sabzian, a poor worker at a paper company who tries to pass himself off as a famous movie director. Sabzian’s story (a story that could only be told on film) is as intriguing as it is powerful. An avid film buff, Sabzian tries to pass himself off as Iranian director Mohsen Makhmalbaf as a means of gaining agency and power in an otherwise paralyzing existence. The film revolves around Sabzian’s trial, after the Ahankhah family discovers his deceit.

All of the primary characters in the film play themselves. It leads a real air of authenticity to the film and certainly adds to the suspense surrounding Sabzian’s trial. The trial footage is phenomenal and it’s impossible to not feel lucky that Kiarostami was allowed to film Sabzian in his element. Kiarostami, the judge, and even the Ahankah family give Sabzian the chance to tell his side of the story.

The film has more meta layers then its possible to count. While watching the film one gets sucked into the courtroom and becomes a jury member. It’s difficult to listen to Sabzian’s passion and eloquence and resist making judgements about his motives and intentions. Sabzian, in impersonating Makhmalbaf hoped to gain a voice in society. Kiarostami, in making this film has given Sabzian just that. Sabzian acts as himself in the movie, acts as himself as Makhmalbaf, and of course is present in the documentary footage from his trial. Kiarostami gives Sabzian the opportunity to tell his story on his terms as he sees fit and rarely has there ever been a more engaging, interesting, and provocative subject for a filmmaker. Sabzian is simultaneously confusing, heartwarming, lovable and soul crushing. Sabzian’s desire to tell his story is explicit and palpable and Kiarostami does a phenomenal job stepping back and allowing Sabzian to do so. In many ways Kiarostami’s film is a filmmakers film; a film that illustrates the transformative nature of filmmaking while simultaneously pushing the boundaries of what a film can be.

It’s important to note that the Criterion DVD also includes Kiarostami’s 1974 film “The Traveler.” The film, widely considered to be Kiarostami’s first feature film, is about a young boy who wants to go to Tehran to see a soccer game. It’s a wonderful film as well as a perfect complement to “Close-Up.” Sabzian cites it as the film that inspired him to pursue film (albeit in an inconventional way). At their best, films and filmmakers are capable of giving voices to those that have none. In that way, “Close-Up” and “The Traveler” represent film at its best.

Close-Up: A
The Traveler: B+

"Close-Up"
Directed by Abbas Kiarostami, written by Abbas Kiarostami, 98 minutes, Unrated.

"The Traveler"
Directed by Abbas Kiarostami, written by Abbas Kiarostami, 74 minutes, Unrated

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

Every film I see I get a curious feeling I’ve seen it before. Narrative structure and the stories filmmakers tell have (for the most part) become so homogenized that no matter what film you see, it feels like déjà vu. Judd Apatow and the Apatowesque films illustrate this perfectly. For the most part if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. They have similar narrative arcs, preoccupations and senses of humor. It’s rare when one has the opportunity to watch something so entirely unique and fresh that it shocks you into submission and holds you captive for every minute. Abbas Kiarostami’s “Close-Up” is so brilliantly conceived and well made that it does just that.

Kiarostami’s film (recently released for the first time by Criterion Collection) seamlessly blends documentary footage and recreations as he tells the true story of Hossain Sabzian, a poor worker at a paper company who tries to pass himself off as a famous movie director. Sabzian’s story (a story that could only be told on film) is as intriguing as it is powerful. An avid film buff, Sabzian tries to pass himself off as Iranian director Mohsen Makhmalbaf as a means of gaining agency and power in an otherwise paralyzing existence. The film revolves around Sabzian’s trial, after the Ahankhah family discovers his deceit.

All of the primary characters in the film play themselves. It leads a real air of authenticity to the film and certainly adds to the suspense surrounding Sabzian’s trial. The trial footage is phenomenal and it’s impossible to not feel lucky that Kiarostami was allowed to film Sabzian in his element. Kiarostami, the judge, and even the Ahankah family give Sabzian the chance to tell his side of the story.

The film has more meta layers then its possible to count. While watching the film one gets sucked into the courtroom and becomes a jury member. It’s difficult to listen to Sabzian’s passion and eloquence and resist making judgements about his motives and intentions. Sabzian, in impersonating Makhmalbaf hoped to gain a voice in society. Kiarostami, in making this film has given Sabzian just that. Sabzian acts as himself in the movie, acts as himself as Makhmalbaf, and of course is present in the documentary footage from his trial. Kiarostami gives Sabzian the opportunity to tell his story on his terms as he sees fit and rarely has there ever been a more engaging, interesting, and provocative subject for a filmmaker. Sabzian is simultaneously confusing, heartwarming, lovable and soul crushing. Sabzian’s desire to tell his story is explicit and palpable and Kiarostami does a phenomenal job stepping back and allowing Sabzian to do so. In many ways Kiarostami’s film is a filmmakers film; a film that illustrates the transformative nature of filmmaking while simultaneously pushing the boundaries of what a film can be.

It’s important to note that the Criterion DVD also includes Kiarostami’s 1974 film “The Traveler.” The film, widely considered to be Kiarostami’s first feature film, is about a young boy who wants to go to Tehran to see a soccer game. It’s a wonderful film as well as a perfect complement to “Close-Up.” Sabzian cites it as the film that inspired him to pursue film (albeit in an inconventional way). At their best, films and filmmakers are capable of giving voices to those that have none. In that way, “Close-Up” and “The Traveler” represent film at its best.

Close-Up: A
The Traveler: B+

"Chaw"

Movie Review

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

"Chaw," the South-Korean import by Director Jeong-Won Shin, is as ambitious as it is sloppy.

Shin’s film, about a giant boar that ravages a town, had so much campy potential. I mean, who doesn’t want to see a film where people are killed by something or someone that they helped to create (and a giant boar to boot)?

It’s an age-old formula for an entertaining film. However, Shin seems to have spread himself and his story too thin. The film attempted a lot but didn't achieve much of anything. In the first 15 minutes, we are presented with animal rights documentary footage, a typical horror movie opening sequence, a critique of capitalistic pursuit, and an introduction of police incompetence. Each of these subjects is worthy of a film but Shin struggles to tie them altogether in the film.

The film is also downright silly. Silliness has become an endearing quality in recent South Korean films ("The Host" is the perfect example). However, the characters in "Chaw" are not well developed or likeable enough to make the sillyness endearing. It also undermined the fairly serious undertones that the film tries to explore.

That’s not to say there aren’t a few likeable aspects of the movie. The relationship between the two hunters that are called upon to kill the boar is fairly well developed and smart (albeit a tad clichéd). There also are a few pretty awesome boar rampage sequences. But it wasn't enough to tie the film together. In the end, it seemed as if Shin overreached. In trying to do and say too much, the film doesn’t say much at all.


Grade: C-

"Chaw"

Movie Review

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

"Chaw," the South-Korean import by Director Jeong-Won Shin, is as ambitious as it is sloppy.

Shin’s film, about a giant boar that ravages a town, had so much campy potential. I mean, who doesn’t want to see a film where people are killed by something or someone that they helped to create (and a giant boar to boot)?

It’s an age-old formula for an entertaining film. However, Shin seems to have spread himself and his story too thin. The film attempted a lot but didn't achieve much of anything. In the first 15 minutes, we are presented with animal rights documentary footage, a typical horror movie opening sequence, a critique of capitalistic pursuit, and an introduction of police incompetence. Each of these subjects is worthy of a film but Shin struggles to tie them altogether in the film.

The film is also downright silly. Silliness has become an endearing quality in recent South Korean films ("The Host" is the perfect example). However, the characters in "Chaw" are not well developed or likeable enough to make the sillyness endearing. It also undermined the fairly serious undertones that the film tries to explore.

That’s not to say there aren’t a few likeable aspects of the movie. The relationship between the two hunters that are called upon to kill the boar is fairly well developed and smart (albeit a tad clichéd). There also are a few pretty awesome boar rampage sequences. But it wasn't enough to tie the film together. In the end, it seemed as if Shin overreached. In trying to do and say too much, the film doesn’t say much at all.


Grade: C-

"Cow"

Movie Review

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

Some of the most dynamic, creative and provocative foreign cinema is coming out of Hong Kong. "Cow," which played at the recent New York Asian Film Festival, illustrates why. The film, which was directed by Hu Guan and starred the famous Bo Huang, is one of very few war films that has managed to treat the tragedy of war respectfully while allowing the audience to see the comedy and farce that war can beget.

Guan’s story, which takes place during the Sino-Japanese war, focuses on Niu Er (played thoughtfully by Bo Huang). As the Japanese approach, Niu Er, a farmer, is forced to take responsibility for his village’s prized possession--a foreign cow.

Every wartime calamity imaginable becomes fodder for Guan to explore Niu Er’s relentless focus on protecting the cow (with frequently comic consequences). Niu Er fends off a Japanese regiment, hungry and barbaric refugees, and the elements.

The film, which is beautifully shot, is as touching as it is hilarious. Niu Er seems to understand the vicious side of humanity but never loses faith in his own ability to overcome it. His relationship with the cow, although sometimes silly, is ultimately quite touching. The film’s narrative structure is a little finicky but that does little to diminish the strength of many of the film's scenes. Niu Er, while resilient, is prone to hijinx and mix-ups that offer the viewer a brief respite from the vivid and sometimes graphic war scenes that make up the bulk of the film.

The film works because of the chances that Guan takes. The film’s tone is usually spot on and it’s refreshing to see a war film (if you can call it that) where comedy plays an integral role. It’s an emotional and cinematic roller coaster that successfully imitates the highs and lows of real life.

Grade: B

"Cow"

Movie Review

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

Some of the most dynamic, creative and provocative foreign cinema is coming out of Hong Kong. "Cow," which played at the recent New York Asian Film Festival, illustrates why. The film, which was directed by Hu Guan and starred the famous Bo Huang, is one of very few war films that has managed to treat the tragedy of war respectfully while allowing the audience to see the comedy and farce that war can beget.

Guan’s story, which takes place during the Sino-Japanese war, focuses on Niu Er (played thoughtfully by Bo Huang). As the Japanese approach, Niu Er, a farmer, is forced to take responsibility for his village’s prized possession--a foreign cow.

Every wartime calamity imaginable becomes fodder for Guan to explore Niu Er’s relentless focus on protecting the cow (with frequently comic consequences). Niu Er fends off a Japanese regiment, hungry and barbaric refugees, and the elements.

The film, which is beautifully shot, is as touching as it is hilarious. Niu Er seems to understand the vicious side of humanity but never loses faith in his own ability to overcome it. His relationship with the cow, although sometimes silly, is ultimately quite touching. The film’s narrative structure is a little finicky but that does little to diminish the strength of many of the film's scenes. Niu Er, while resilient, is prone to hijinx and mix-ups that offer the viewer a brief respite from the vivid and sometimes graphic war scenes that make up the bulk of the film.

The film works because of the chances that Guan takes. The film’s tone is usually spot on and it’s refreshing to see a war film (if you can call it that) where comedy plays an integral role. It’s an emotional and cinematic roller coaster that successfully imitates the highs and lows of real life.

Grade: B

"Wild Grass"

Movie Review

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

Alain Resnais’ new film, “Wild Grass,” is a masterpiece that resists all attempts at classification. I consider myself a film fanatic and this is a film fanatic’s film. It is simultaneously experimental, melodramatic, sentimental, laugh-out-loud funny and thrilling. The film’s premise is clichéd and banal, which makes what Resnais has achieved that much more powerful. Resnais’ achievement relies heavily on his own recognition and eventual subversion of the various traits that have made movies so predictable.

In many ways “Wild Grass” is the ultimate cinematic deconstruction.

“Wild Grass,” like countless recent films, is the story of what can happen when a random occurrence causes lives to intersect. Marguerite Muir, a 50ish dentist, has her wallet and bag stolen. Georges Palet, the film’s protagonist and sometimes narrator, finds it.

You can see it now. In the hands of a bad director, this premise becomes "You’ve Got Mail." However, Resnais uses this premise to explore the ways in which film conventions shape the stories we choose to tell in our lives.

Georges wants this chance occurrence to be so much more than it is. He uses this opportunity to engage in a conversation with himself. The film is structured as such. It’s a battle between the Georges we see onscreen and the Georges that narrates the film.

One appears to be a fairly normal, if bored, 50-year-old man in France. Narrator Georges wants everything he’s seen on film to happen to him in real life. He wants this chance occurrence to lead to a torrid love affair. When that becomes untenable, Georges goes the other root--he chooses to become a violent stalker and slashes Marguerite’s tires. In what is probably the best scene in the film, Georges is questioned by police about his actions. He chooses to play the role of psychotic villain and exacerbates the situation with hilarious consequences. Georges’ is not sure who to be because he is not sure what he wants this story to be. Will it be a romance? A thriller? A horror movie? A noir?

If it wasn’t already clear, this film cements Resnais' place as one of today's most dynamic directors. Resnais’ cinematic choices and structure constantly reflect Georges own approach to his story. The music, shots, colors and tones perfectly evolve as Georges’ interest in Marguerite ebbs and flows.

All of which leads to an unpredictable and layered film that warrants multiple viewings.

Grade: A

"Wild Grass"

Movie Review

By our guest blogger, Aidan Thomas

Alain Resnais’ new film, “Wild Grass,” is a masterpiece that resists all attempts at classification. I consider myself a film fanatic and this is a film fanatic’s film. It is simultaneously experimental, melodramatic, sentimental, laugh-out-loud funny and thrilling. The film’s premise is clichéd and banal, which makes what Resnais has achieved that much more powerful. Resnais’ achievement relies heavily on his own recognition and eventual subversion of the various traits that have made movies so predictable.

In many ways “Wild Grass” is the ultimate cinematic deconstruction.

“Wild Grass,” like countless recent films, is the story of what can happen when a random occurrence causes lives to intersect. Marguerite Muir, a 50ish dentist, has her wallet and bag stolen. Georges Palet, the film’s protagonist and sometimes narrator, finds it.

You can see it now. In the hands of a bad director, this premise becomes "You’ve Got Mail." However, Resnais uses this premise to explore the ways in which film conventions shape the stories we choose to tell in our lives.

Georges wants this chance occurrence to be so much more than it is. He uses this opportunity to engage in a conversation with himself. The film is structured as such. It’s a battle between the Georges we see onscreen and the Georges that narrates the film.

One appears to be a fairly normal, if bored, 50-year-old man in France. Narrator Georges wants everything he’s seen on film to happen to him in real life. He wants this chance occurrence to lead to a torrid love affair. When that becomes untenable, Georges goes the other root--he chooses to become a violent stalker and slashes Marguerite’s tires. In what is probably the best scene in the film, Georges is questioned by police about his actions. He chooses to play the role of psychotic villain and exacerbates the situation with hilarious consequences. Georges’ is not sure who to be because he is not sure what he wants this story to be. Will it be a romance? A thriller? A horror movie? A noir?

If it wasn’t already clear, this film cements Resnais' place as one of today's most dynamic directors. Resnais’ cinematic choices and structure constantly reflect Georges own approach to his story. The music, shots, colors and tones perfectly evolve as Georges’ interest in Marguerite ebbs and flows.

All of which leads to an unpredictable and layered film that warrants multiple viewings.

Grade: A

“The White Ribbon”

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Written and directed by Michael Haneke, 145 minutes, rated R.

By Christopher Smith

Michael Haneke’s terrific film, “The White Ribbon,” is unshakably good, particularly at the end, when the disease destroying the core of the story (that would be humanity at its lowest depths of depravity) has gone on to fully reveal its dysfunction, its divisiveness, its backhanded brutality and its overall rotten awfulness.

The film observes the collapse of a small town on the eve of World War I. We’re in Germany. The film is shot in black and white. The images are bleak, cruel and stunning, not unlike the movie itself. Haneke (“Cache”) wrote the script, and just as his fans expect, he works by evasion, leading audiences to a well the reflects nothing back. Instead, we’re offered a deep sink into a bottomless darkness.

“The White Ribbon” is satisfying in its complexity, rich in its ambiguity. It’s a movie that demands you walk around it, circle it, trying to figure out exactly what’s going because there’s no way that Haneke is going to tell you. For those who like their movies spelled out for them, this isn’t for you, in spite of the subtitles. For those who appreciate the grace of a director who employs narrative discretion, this absolutely is for you.

The film opens with a man on a horse racing toward his house. Since the movie is told in flashback by way of the village’s now-elderly schoolteacher (Ernst Jacobi), we know the man is a doctor and that he breaks his arm when his horse trips over a hidden wire somebody strung between two trees. But who strung the wire? And why do they have it in for the doctor? Men show up in an effort to understand what happened, but there are no clues, no answers, and the doctor is taken away to a hospital far away so he can mend. Could somebody have benefited from his absence? Maybe. Maybe not.

To Haneke, it doesn’t matter. Braced against his own coldness, he presses on--there are others to undo in this village of grim-looking people. Look, for instance, at the dead woman ground up at the mill. What happened to her? Or look at young boy with Down’s syndrome who is savagely beaten and left to hang in a forest with a bag on his head. Why? Or the barn that is set ablaze in the middle of the night. Or the pet bird whose throat is slit. Or the doctor’s midwife, housekeeper, receptionist and mistress (Susanne Lothar), who is told by the doctor (Rainer Bock) while she’s masturbating him to stop. Finished with her, he delivers one of the most cutting rebukes caught on film this year.

“Why do you want me to stop?” she asks.

“To be truthful, you disgust me,” he says. “You’re ugly, messy, flabby and have bad breath. Don’t sit there looking like death warmed over. I can’t go on with this. I’ve really tried to think of another woman while making love to you--one who smells good, who’s young, less decrepit than you--buy my imagination can’t manage it. In the end, it’s you again, and then I feel like puking, and am embarrassed at myself. At the hospital, I forgot how tiresome you are. One grows sentimental when in pain.” He glares at her. “Why don’t you just die?”

Death is, in fact, everywhere in this movie--it’s alive and well and swallowing the living whole. People are ridiculed and reduced to nothing. Children are beaten and scorned, particularly the children of the village’s pastor (Burghart Klaussner), two of whom provide the film its title in that they are forced to wear white ribbons of purity until he believes that he can trust them again (just why we’ll leave for the screen). Those children are Klara and Martin (Maria-Victoria Dragus and Leonard Proxauf, each outstanding), and you’ve never seen such a mean-mouthed duo, the lot of which reflects their father’s own rage, which he repeatedly takes out on them.

And what about that? What does such abuse do to a child? Does it carry over to them? In this movie, the children move in marching groups; you’d swear they were a gang if they weren’t so polite to the adults they come upon in town. And yet there’s something about them the film only brushes against--are they the cause for the village’s atrocities? Could children be capable of such violent acts?

As a young man, the schoolteacher (Christian Friedel) questions Klara and Martin when something else happens to the boy with Down’s syndrome. Klara is older and smart and direct--she’s a force. Martin is younger and cagey. The schoolteacher’s questions are relentless, and soon they leach over to the children’s father, the pastor, who preaches God’s word and sips from his cup, but who is one of the most ruthless, unkind people in the movie.

He’s so defensive when the schoolteacher laces him with the same questions that he threatens to have him thrown out of his house and into prison. Could the pastor be responsible for all that has happened, or is he just protecting his children? And how about the doctor, who suddenly has rushed out of town? Why did he run off?

Who knows?

Shot superbly by cinematographer Christian Berger, “The White Ribbon” is stark and haunting, expertly acted and directed, morally corrupt and memorable for all of it. It’s framed as a mystery, but really, Heneke’s sights are on his characters, the evil inherent in people, and how that evil, when organized, has the potential to grow into something more repellent if left uncapped, as it is here. The white ribbons in this movie are meant to signify purity, but what we don’t see in this film is the power of another color--red--and how, years later, it would come to define another generation of Germans in another war waiting to bloom on another horizon.

Grade: A

View the trailer for "The White Ribbon" below. What are your thoughts?

“The White Ribbon”

DVD, Blu-ray Movie Review

Written and directed by Michael Haneke, 145 minutes, rated R.

By Christopher Smith

Michael Haneke’s terrific film, “The White Ribbon,” is unshakably good, particularly at the end, when the disease destroying the core of the story (that would be humanity at its lowest depths of depravity) has gone on to fully reveal its dysfunction, its divisiveness, its backhanded brutality and its overall rotten awfulness.

The film observes the collapse of a small town on the eve of World War I. We’re in Germany. The film is shot in black and white. The images are bleak, cruel and stunning, not unlike the movie itself. Haneke (“Cache”) wrote the script, and just as his fans expect, he works by evasion, leading audiences to a well the reflects nothing back. Instead, we’re offered a deep sink into a bottomless darkness.

“The White Ribbon” is satisfying in its complexity, rich in its ambiguity. It’s a movie that demands you walk around it, circle it, trying to figure out exactly what’s going because there’s no way that Haneke is going to tell you. For those who like their movies spelled out for them, this isn’t for you, in spite of the subtitles. For those who appreciate the grace of a director who employs narrative discretion, this absolutely is for you.

The film opens with a man on a horse racing toward his house. Since the movie is told in flashback by way of the village’s now-elderly schoolteacher (Ernst Jacobi), we know the man is a doctor and that he breaks his arm when his horse trips over a hidden wire somebody strung between two trees. But who strung the wire? And why do they have it in for the doctor? Men show up in an effort to understand what happened, but there are no clues, no answers, and the doctor is taken away to a hospital far away so he can mend. Could somebody have benefited from his absence? Maybe. Maybe not.

To Haneke, it doesn’t matter. Braced against his own coldness, he presses on--there are others to undo in this village of grim-looking people. Look, for instance, at the dead woman ground up at the mill. What happened to her? Or look at young boy with Down’s syndrome who is savagely beaten and left to hang in a forest with a bag on his head. Why? Or the barn that is set ablaze in the middle of the night. Or the pet bird whose throat is slit. Or the doctor’s midwife, housekeeper, receptionist and mistress (Susanne Lothar), who is told by the doctor (Rainer Bock) while she’s masturbating him to stop. Finished with her, he delivers one of the most cutting rebukes caught on film this year.

“Why do you want me to stop?” she asks.

“To be truthful, you disgust me,” he says. “You’re ugly, messy, flabby and have bad breath. Don’t sit there looking like death warmed over. I can’t go on with this. I’ve really tried to think of another woman while making love to you--one who smells good, who’s young, less decrepit than you--buy my imagination can’t manage it. In the end, it’s you again, and then I feel like puking, and am embarrassed at myself. At the hospital, I forgot how tiresome you are. One grows sentimental when in pain.” He glares at her. “Why don’t you just die?”

Death is, in fact, everywhere in this movie--it’s alive and well and swallowing the living whole. People are ridiculed and reduced to nothing. Children are beaten and scorned, particularly the children of the village’s pastor (Burghart Klaussner), two of whom provide the film its title in that they are forced to wear white ribbons of purity until he believes that he can trust them again (just why we’ll leave for the screen). Those children are Klara and Martin (Maria-Victoria Dragus and Leonard Proxauf, each outstanding), and you’ve never seen such a mean-mouthed duo, the lot of which reflects their father’s own rage, which he repeatedly takes out on them.

And what about that? What does such abuse do to a child? Does it carry over to them? In this movie, the children move in marching groups; you’d swear they were a gang if they weren’t so polite to the adults they come upon in town. And yet there’s something about them the film only brushes against--are they the cause for the village’s atrocities? Could children be capable of such violent acts?

As a young man, the schoolteacher (Christian Friedel) questions Klara and Martin when something else happens to the boy with Down’s syndrome. Klara is older and smart and direct--she’s a force. Martin is younger and cagey. The schoolteacher’s questions are relentless, and soon they leach over to the children’s father, the pastor, who preaches God’s word and sips from his cup, but who is one of the most ruthless, unkind people in the movie.

He’s so defensive when the schoolteacher laces him with the same questions that he threatens to have him thrown out of his house and into prison. Could the pastor be responsible for all that has happened, or is he just protecting his children? And how about the doctor, who suddenly has rushed out of town? Why did he run off?

Who knows?

Shot superbly by cinematographer Christian Berger, “The White Ribbon” is stark and haunting, expertly acted and directed, morally corrupt and memorable for all of it. It’s framed as a mystery, but really, Heneke’s sights are on his characters, the evil inherent in people, and how that evil, when organized, has the potential to grow into something more repellent if left uncapped, as it is here. The white ribbons in this movie are meant to signify purity, but what we don’t see in this film is the power of another color--red--and how, years later, it would come to define another generation of Germans in another war waiting to bloom on another horizon.

Grade: A

View the trailer for "The White Ribbon" below. What are your thoughts?

Movie Review

"The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"

Directed by Niels Arden Oplev, Written by Nikolaj Arcel and Rasmus Heisterberg, 146 Minutes, Not Rated

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo," or if translated directly from its original Swedish title, "Men Who Hate Women," has only recently crossed the pond to American cinemas, but it's been a relatively big hit in its native Sweden, as are the "Millenium Trilogy" of novels by Stieg Larsson, the first of which is the basis for this film.

It follows disgraced investigative reporter Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist), who is hired by a wealthy industrialist to uncover the truth behind an unsolved disappearance that happened decades earlier--that of his niece, Harriet. At first in over his head, Mikael eventually enlists the help of a secretive but highly intelligent young computer hacker, Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace). In the process of investigating the missing woman and understanding the truth of the industrialist's mysterious family, the duo become very close and begin fixing their own lives as well.

For a film that became so popular so quickly, it's relatively typical stuff. It's a by-the-book detective story, and it's stretched pretty thin by a lot of exposition and stuff early in the film, before Mikael and Lisbeth team up. Some of it goes to good use--we get a great feel for the characters before the meat of the plot gets going. But then there are moments, such as the scene where Lisbeth is assaulted by her sort-of parole officer. It's like a scene straight of "Irreversible," and despite having a general connection to one of the main points of the film (some men hate women and Lisbeth is opposed to that), it's executed in a way that makes it seem like it was included to be edgy instead of important.

Lisbeth herself is rather aggravating, as well--Rapace's performance is just fine, but the character's punk-goth style comes off as rather silly and the whole hacker thing seems pulled straight out of a bad '90s movie. At the very least, they could have used fake hacking techniques to explain how she was doing what she was doing, but this is movie land, where typing really fast allows you to hack, decrypt, encrypt, etc., whatever you want whenever you want. The fact that the entire trilogy of novels somehow finds a way to revolve around Lisbeth and her past is rather baffling.

That's not to write off the film entirely. It may be by-the-book, but it's a fair bit of fun and it's pretty thrilling. And as mysteries go, the one here manages to work without plot contrivances or retconning while still managing to remain unpredictable. The resolution of the whole thing is especially brilliant.

The direction is also quite solid, and though Niels Arden Oplev eventually backed out of directing the two sequels, he puts forth a lot of effort and style here.

Overall, the film was bound to be overhyped, what with the popular novels and generally Hollywoodized style. It's not unlike "Let the Right One In" in that way. But despite its excessive length and bizarre attempts at "risky" plot devices, it's pretty good entertainment. Well worth the watch, and I can see its sequels (not yet released in the States, but they're on their way) being worth seeing as well.

Grade: B-

View the trailer for "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" below. What are your thoughts of the movie?

Movie Review

"The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"

Directed by Niels Arden Oplev, Written by Nikolaj Arcel and Rasmus Heisterberg, 146 Minutes, Not Rated

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo," or if translated directly from its original Swedish title, "Men Who Hate Women," has only recently crossed the pond to American cinemas, but it's been a relatively big hit in its native Sweden, as are the "Millenium Trilogy" of novels by Stieg Larsson, the first of which is the basis for this film.

It follows disgraced investigative reporter Mikael Blomkvist (Michael Nyqvist), who is hired by a wealthy industrialist to uncover the truth behind an unsolved disappearance that happened decades earlier--that of his niece, Harriet. At first in over his head, Mikael eventually enlists the help of a secretive but highly intelligent young computer hacker, Lisbeth Salander (Noomi Rapace). In the process of investigating the missing woman and understanding the truth of the industrialist's mysterious family, the duo become very close and begin fixing their own lives as well.

For a film that became so popular so quickly, it's relatively typical stuff. It's a by-the-book detective story, and it's stretched pretty thin by a lot of exposition and stuff early in the film, before Mikael and Lisbeth team up. Some of it goes to good use--we get a great feel for the characters before the meat of the plot gets going. But then there are moments, such as the scene where Lisbeth is assaulted by her sort-of parole officer. It's like a scene straight of "Irreversible," and despite having a general connection to one of the main points of the film (some men hate women and Lisbeth is opposed to that), it's executed in a way that makes it seem like it was included to be edgy instead of important.

Lisbeth herself is rather aggravating, as well--Rapace's performance is just fine, but the character's punk-goth style comes off as rather silly and the whole hacker thing seems pulled straight out of a bad '90s movie. At the very least, they could have used fake hacking techniques to explain how she was doing what she was doing, but this is movie land, where typing really fast allows you to hack, decrypt, encrypt, etc., whatever you want whenever you want. The fact that the entire trilogy of novels somehow finds a way to revolve around Lisbeth and her past is rather baffling.

That's not to write off the film entirely. It may be by-the-book, but it's a fair bit of fun and it's pretty thrilling. And as mysteries go, the one here manages to work without plot contrivances or retconning while still managing to remain unpredictable. The resolution of the whole thing is especially brilliant.

The direction is also quite solid, and though Niels Arden Oplev eventually backed out of directing the two sequels, he puts forth a lot of effort and style here.

Overall, the film was bound to be overhyped, what with the popular novels and generally Hollywoodized style. It's not unlike "Let the Right One In" in that way. But despite its excessive length and bizarre attempts at "risky" plot devices, it's pretty good entertainment. Well worth the watch, and I can see its sequels (not yet released in the States, but they're on their way) being worth seeing as well.

Grade: B-

View the trailer for "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" below. What are your thoughts of the movie?

DVD, Blu-ray Review

"Vivre sa Vie"

Directed by Jean-Luc Godard, Written by Godard and Marcel Sacotte, 83 minutes, Not Rated

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

Life is as strange as it is cruel. This is something French New Wave director Jean-Luc Godard seems desperate to convey in nearly every one of his films, especially those in his highly productive '60s period. He started off rather light with "Breathless" and "A Woman is a Woman," but then in 1962, he followed up those films with "Vivre sa Vie" (English translation "My Life to Live"), a fragmented, intriguing, occasionally fun but ultimately tragic look at desperation and the pressures of society.

Subtitled "A Film in Twelve Scenes," "Vivre sa Vie" follows a young Parisian woman named Nana (played by Godard's then wife and ever-present muse Anna Karina) through a dozen vignettes showing her life at various stages following her decision to leave her family and become an actress. The film begins very simply--a scene in a cafe shows us Nana telling her husband she's leaving him, and in that very Godardian way we only watch the backs of their heads as they converse about their relationship, her potential as an actress, or just silly little everyday things. The next vignette shows Nana at her job at a record shop, occasionally asking her co-workers for some spare cash. This sequence is filmed in one shot that follows Karina back and forth across the store.

As the film continues, Nana decides to turn to prostitution to support herself as she attempts to break into acting. Godard's fascination with prostitution and the motivations behind it are prevalent in his later work as well, but it's definitely at the forefront here. Despite Nana's insistence that she has chosen this shady career of her own volition, her poverty and desperation have clearly forced her into it. One of the vignettes works as a sort of "Q&A" session for both Nana and the audience as we learn the various ins and outs of the prostitute's everyday activities.

"Vivre sa Vie" definitely tones down the more wild stylistic decisions of Godard's previous films, dropping the intrusive music and long, elaborate shots in favor of extensive close-ups, minimal music, and a generally serious tone. One vignette early in the film shows Nana going to a theater to see Carl Theodore Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc," and as Godard cuts back and forth from close-ups of Maria Falconetti in that film and Karina, the visual parallels between the two films are made quite literal. The film's visual style clearly had a big effect on Godard, whose obsession with these kind of close-ups would return big time in stuff like "Week End" and "Pierrot le fou."

Godard's biggest problem for me has always been his inability to hold back on excessive political dialogue in almost all of his work, and thankfully, despite this being a film that has more political and social context than a lot of his other films, he holds back on political stuff entirely in favor of almost exclusively naturalistic dialogue. Of course, even at his most naturalistic, Godard's dialogue is very vague and poetic, and it works very well here. Only a couple moments descend into Godard's more maddening and overdrawn philosophical speeches, and when these moments come up, they actually meld very well with the rest of the film (probably due primarily to the distinct 12-scene format).

Overall, "Vivre sa Vie" is probably the earliest entry in Godard's oeuvre that should be called truly great. "Breathless" has its moments and "A Woman is a Woman" is decent fun, but "Vivre sa Vie" is a relatively dense piece of work for a director who at the time was just developing his style, and it's also a far better introduction to the talented and gorgeous Anna Karina than "Woman." Beautiful, entertaining and tragic, this is definitely one of Godard's best of the '60s.

Grade: A

DVD, Blu-ray Review

"Vivre sa Vie"

Directed by Jean-Luc Godard, Written by Godard and Marcel Sacotte, 83 minutes, Not Rated

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

Life is as strange as it is cruel. This is something French New Wave director Jean-Luc Godard seems desperate to convey in nearly every one of his films, especially those in his highly productive '60s period. He started off rather light with "Breathless" and "A Woman is a Woman," but then in 1962, he followed up those films with "Vivre sa Vie" (English translation "My Life to Live"), a fragmented, intriguing, occasionally fun but ultimately tragic look at desperation and the pressures of society.

Subtitled "A Film in Twelve Scenes," "Vivre sa Vie" follows a young Parisian woman named Nana (played by Godard's then wife and ever-present muse Anna Karina) through a dozen vignettes showing her life at various stages following her decision to leave her family and become an actress. The film begins very simply--a scene in a cafe shows us Nana telling her husband she's leaving him, and in that very Godardian way we only watch the backs of their heads as they converse about their relationship, her potential as an actress, or just silly little everyday things. The next vignette shows Nana at her job at a record shop, occasionally asking her co-workers for some spare cash. This sequence is filmed in one shot that follows Karina back and forth across the store.

As the film continues, Nana decides to turn to prostitution to support herself as she attempts to break into acting. Godard's fascination with prostitution and the motivations behind it are prevalent in his later work as well, but it's definitely at the forefront here. Despite Nana's insistence that she has chosen this shady career of her own volition, her poverty and desperation have clearly forced her into it. One of the vignettes works as a sort of "Q&A" session for both Nana and the audience as we learn the various ins and outs of the prostitute's everyday activities.

"Vivre sa Vie" definitely tones down the more wild stylistic decisions of Godard's previous films, dropping the intrusive music and long, elaborate shots in favor of extensive close-ups, minimal music, and a generally serious tone. One vignette early in the film shows Nana going to a theater to see Carl Theodore Dreyer's "The Passion of Joan of Arc," and as Godard cuts back and forth from close-ups of Maria Falconetti in that film and Karina, the visual parallels between the two films are made quite literal. The film's visual style clearly had a big effect on Godard, whose obsession with these kind of close-ups would return big time in stuff like "Week End" and "Pierrot le fou."

Godard's biggest problem for me has always been his inability to hold back on excessive political dialogue in almost all of his work, and thankfully, despite this being a film that has more political and social context than a lot of his other films, he holds back on political stuff entirely in favor of almost exclusively naturalistic dialogue. Of course, even at his most naturalistic, Godard's dialogue is very vague and poetic, and it works very well here. Only a couple moments descend into Godard's more maddening and overdrawn philosophical speeches, and when these moments come up, they actually meld very well with the rest of the film (probably due primarily to the distinct 12-scene format).

Overall, "Vivre sa Vie" is probably the earliest entry in Godard's oeuvre that should be called truly great. "Breathless" has its moments and "A Woman is a Woman" is decent fun, but "Vivre sa Vie" is a relatively dense piece of work for a director who at the time was just developing his style, and it's also a far better introduction to the talented and gorgeous Anna Karina than "Woman." Beautiful, entertaining and tragic, this is definitely one of Godard's best of the '60s.

Grade: A

Movie Review

"The Secret in Their Eyes"

Directed by Juan Jose Campanella, Written by Eduardo Sacheri and Campanella, 127 Minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"The Secret in Their Eyes" was the unexpected winner of this year's Oscar for Best Foreign Film, triumphing over the expected shoe-ins "A Prophet" and "The White Ribbon." What can I say--it may have been an upset, but I can't think of stiffer competition than this gem.

The film is an interesting mix of a thriller, romance and detective story, blending these genres to tell a story that spans two decades and concerns the passions and memories of multiple figures surrounding the rape and murder of a young woman in Buenos Aires in 1974.

Twenthy years after the murder, retired federal justice agent Benjamin Esposito (Ricardo Darin) begins writing a novel dramatizing the events he witnessed while investigating the murder, including his secret love for his superior Irene Menendez-Hastings (Soledad Villamil), his rough relationship with his partner Pablo Sandoval (Guillermo Francella), and the ambiguous mystery of who actually committed the crime, the woman's husband Ricardo or her sociopathic childhood friend Gomez. As Benjamin, just returning to Buenos Aires after years working elsewhere, shows his story to the now married Irene, we flashback to the investigation and watch the relationship between the two develop in both timelines.

Technically, the film is an absolute marvel. Makeup and probably some subtle CGI allow the actors to portray their characters in both timelines, avoiding the dilemma films like this tend to have with different actors portraying the same characters and thus emotional connections getting shattered in the process. The film itself is shot beautifully, especially the gorgeous opening scene and one epic-length five minute take where Benjamin and Sandoval chase Gomez through a packed soccer stadium that allegedly took three days to shoot and nine months to edit.

But the film really succeeds through its story, which is perfectly told and which strikes a perfect balance between its multiple characters, styles, and timelines. Telling what is basically a traditional detective story through retrospect is pretty inspired, and it allows the film to tell a flat-out entertaining mystery as well as explore themes of memory and how dwelling on our memories can ruin us. As one character says, "Stop dwelling on memories. You'll start thinking of how things could be different. You'll have a thousand pasts and no future."

Darin, who has worked with director Juan Jose Campanella in his last four films, is fantastic as Esposito, but credit really has to go to the whole cast, who portray their characters (young and old) with immense subtlety and heart. Their performances make it feel almost immediately like we know their characters. And for a film that often focuses on the unspoken truths we can see just in each others gaze, each actor can tell a whole story just with their eyes. When Esposito looks into Irene's eyes, we know he's loved her since he first saw her. When he looks at his partner Sandoval, we see the pity he has for the poor drunk, but also the admiration and respect they share for one another despite their differences. And the absolute terror Gomez can create with one glance is astounding.

I'm not sure I'd say this film definitely deserved the Oscar--it's too tough to really choose when all the nominees were among the best of last year--but I think it definitely earned its place next to such great works as "A Prophet" and "Ajami" and hopefully its win will get it the attention it deserves from audiences.

Grade: A

View the trailer for "The Secret in Their Eyes" below.  What are your thoughts?

Movie Review

"The Secret in Their Eyes"

Directed by Juan Jose Campanella, Written by Eduardo Sacheri and Campanella, 127 Minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"The Secret in Their Eyes" was the unexpected winner of this year's Oscar for Best Foreign Film, triumphing over the expected shoe-ins "A Prophet" and "The White Ribbon." What can I say--it may have been an upset, but I can't think of stiffer competition than this gem.

The film is an interesting mix of a thriller, romance and detective story, blending these genres to tell a story that spans two decades and concerns the passions and memories of multiple figures surrounding the rape and murder of a young woman in Buenos Aires in 1974.

Twenthy years after the murder, retired federal justice agent Benjamin Esposito (Ricardo Darin) begins writing a novel dramatizing the events he witnessed while investigating the murder, including his secret love for his superior Irene Menendez-Hastings (Soledad Villamil), his rough relationship with his partner Pablo Sandoval (Guillermo Francella), and the ambiguous mystery of who actually committed the crime, the woman's husband Ricardo or her sociopathic childhood friend Gomez. As Benjamin, just returning to Buenos Aires after years working elsewhere, shows his story to the now married Irene, we flashback to the investigation and watch the relationship between the two develop in both timelines.

Technically, the film is an absolute marvel. Makeup and probably some subtle CGI allow the actors to portray their characters in both timelines, avoiding the dilemma films like this tend to have with different actors portraying the same characters and thus emotional connections getting shattered in the process. The film itself is shot beautifully, especially the gorgeous opening scene and one epic-length five minute take where Benjamin and Sandoval chase Gomez through a packed soccer stadium that allegedly took three days to shoot and nine months to edit.

But the film really succeeds through its story, which is perfectly told and which strikes a perfect balance between its multiple characters, styles, and timelines. Telling what is basically a traditional detective story through retrospect is pretty inspired, and it allows the film to tell a flat-out entertaining mystery as well as explore themes of memory and how dwelling on our memories can ruin us. As one character says, "Stop dwelling on memories. You'll start thinking of how things could be different. You'll have a thousand pasts and no future."

Darin, who has worked with director Juan Jose Campanella in his last four films, is fantastic as Esposito, but credit really has to go to the whole cast, who portray their characters (young and old) with immense subtlety and heart. Their performances make it feel almost immediately like we know their characters. And for a film that often focuses on the unspoken truths we can see just in each others gaze, each actor can tell a whole story just with their eyes. When Esposito looks into Irene's eyes, we know he's loved her since he first saw her. When he looks at his partner Sandoval, we see the pity he has for the poor drunk, but also the admiration and respect they share for one another despite their differences. And the absolute terror Gomez can create with one glance is astounding.

I'm not sure I'd say this film definitely deserved the Oscar--it's too tough to really choose when all the nominees were among the best of last year--but I think it definitely earned its place next to such great works as "A Prophet" and "Ajami" and hopefully its win will get it the attention it deserves from audiences.

Grade: A

View the trailer for "The Secret in Their Eyes" below.  What are your thoughts?

Movie Review

"Ajami"

Directed by Scandar Copti and Yaron Shani, Written by Copti and Shani, 120 Minutes, Not Rated

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"Ajami" is certainly a labor of love--it took writer and directors Scandar Copti and Yaron Shani 7 years to make, and every minute of effort shows through in the final product. It's epic, it's thrilling, it's funny, it's romantic, and it packs more of an emotional punch than any contemporary tragedy of at least the last few years.

Through five chapters of interconnected tales, we follow Omar, Malek, Dando and Binjook. Omar is struggling to make money to help pay off a crime clan who want his family murdered after his uncle shot and killed one of their enforcers. Malek, an illegal immigrant, has a mother who will die without surgery and will do anything to help pay for her medical bills. Dando is a police officer dealing with the public's general lack of respect for the police force and whose brother has recently gone missing and is feared dead. Binjook works in the same kitchen as Omar and Malek and wants to move out of his family's home to start his own life with his girlfriend, whose Judaism has alienated some of Binjook's friends.

They live and work in the Tel Aviv-Jaffa neighborhood called Ajami, which literally translates as incapable of speech. Appropriately, this small, impoverished neighborhood houses people of many different cultures, and Copti and Shani employed many real people to portray their characters, which brings a great element of realism to the dialogue. The languages go back and forth from Hebrew to Arabic just as people in Ajami would actually speak.

In terms of plot, the film jumps all over the place in time, reintroducing certain plot elements, showing us different perspectives of crucial moments, and altogether making events we've already seen far more powerful as the film goes along. I suppose "Ajami" is best described as a crime film, and as such, it works extremely well, conveying each characters' motivations quite succinctly and effectively for the evils they're forced to do due to poverty, love, or greed.  Also, the several turning points in the film (mostly where each chapter leads into the next) are incredibly intense and occasionally pretty shocking. The few moments of violence are a testament to the idea that less is more, as they aren't particularly graphic but they are very startling in their realism.

"Ajami" also should get credit for just being a great drama. Even the simple emotional scenes between characters are absolutely perfect, and because we get so much time with each character, we can relate with all of them more than one might expect for a film like this. A place that feels so distinctly foreign really doesn't feel too far from home when the characters' conflicts are so much like those we may encounter ourselves. And it's the time spent with the characters that makes the tragedies some of them face all the more powerful.

"Ajami" was one of the five films nominated for Best Foreign Language film this past March, making it the third film nominated from Israel in as many years. A new wave of creative forces, driven by cultural diversity and a desperate need for personal expression in an impersonal time, is coming from the country, and I have a feeling films like "Ajami," a true masterwork, are just the tip of the iceberg.


Grade: A+

Movie Review

"Ajami"

Directed by Scandar Copti and Yaron Shani, Written by Copti and Shani, 120 Minutes, Not Rated

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"Ajami" is certainly a labor of love--it took writer and directors Scandar Copti and Yaron Shani 7 years to make, and every minute of effort shows through in the final product. It's epic, it's thrilling, it's funny, it's romantic, and it packs more of an emotional punch than any contemporary tragedy of at least the last few years.

Through five chapters of interconnected tales, we follow Omar, Malek, Dando and Binjook. Omar is struggling to make money to help pay off a crime clan who want his family murdered after his uncle shot and killed one of their enforcers. Malek, an illegal immigrant, has a mother who will die without surgery and will do anything to help pay for her medical bills. Dando is a police officer dealing with the public's general lack of respect for the police force and whose brother has recently gone missing and is feared dead. Binjook works in the same kitchen as Omar and Malek and wants to move out of his family's home to start his own life with his girlfriend, whose Judaism has alienated some of Binjook's friends.

They live and work in the Tel Aviv-Jaffa neighborhood called Ajami, which literally translates as incapable of speech. Appropriately, this small, impoverished neighborhood houses people of many different cultures, and Copti and Shani employed many real people to portray their characters, which brings a great element of realism to the dialogue. The languages go back and forth from Hebrew to Arabic just as people in Ajami would actually speak.

In terms of plot, the film jumps all over the place in time, reintroducing certain plot elements, showing us different perspectives of crucial moments, and altogether making events we've already seen far more powerful as the film goes along. I suppose "Ajami" is best described as a crime film, and as such, it works extremely well, conveying each characters' motivations quite succinctly and effectively for the evils they're forced to do due to poverty, love, or greed.  Also, the several turning points in the film (mostly where each chapter leads into the next) are incredibly intense and occasionally pretty shocking. The few moments of violence are a testament to the idea that less is more, as they aren't particularly graphic but they are very startling in their realism.

"Ajami" also should get credit for just being a great drama. Even the simple emotional scenes between characters are absolutely perfect, and because we get so much time with each character, we can relate with all of them more than one might expect for a film like this. A place that feels so distinctly foreign really doesn't feel too far from home when the characters' conflicts are so much like those we may encounter ourselves. And it's the time spent with the characters that makes the tragedies some of them face all the more powerful.

"Ajami" was one of the five films nominated for Best Foreign Language film this past March, making it the third film nominated from Israel in as many years. A new wave of creative forces, driven by cultural diversity and a desperate need for personal expression in an impersonal time, is coming from the country, and I have a feeling films like "Ajami," a true masterwork, are just the tip of the iceberg.


Grade: A+

DVD, Blu-ray Review

"The Baader Meinhof Complex"

Directed by Uli Edel, Written by Edel and Bernd Eichinger, 150 minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

Terrorism has been deep within the public consciousness these past 10 years, so it was only a matter of time before films like Michael Haneke's "The White Ribbon" and Uli Edel's "The Baader Meinhof Complex" started rolling around to explore the world of a terrorist--the root causes, the emotional investments, the sacrifices, and most of all, the inherent flaws and evils of terrorism. Both films also coincidentally take place in Germany and attempt to unravel and examine how every era has its own brand of terrorism. Both were also nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in their respective release years.

"Complex" in particular, unlike "Ribbon," is the true story of the German Red Army Faction (or RAF), a terrorist group that desperately sought to bring political change and worldwide awareness to the evils they believes were being done both in nationally and internationally in the late '60s and '70s. Their primary focus was the Vietnam War, as well as the conflicts in Israel that continue to this day.

Better known as the "Baader-Meinhof Group," the RAF was founded by liberal journalist Ulrike Meinhof (Martina Gedeck), all-around misfit Andreas Baader (Moritz Bliebtreu), and Andreas' girlfriend Gudrun Ensslin (Johanna Wokalek). Together the trio began a reign of fear in Germany, and the public's general ambivalence toward the political systems of the time and the RAF's glamorous appeal to angsty youths resulted in them becoming a specific target for the government to quash.

I can't say I have a comprehensive knowledge of the RAF or German history in general, but whether Edel and co-writer Bernd Eichinger's script is very accurate or not, some of the best "non-fiction" films are fictionalized, as fiction more often than reality is capable of conveying truth and emotion. In film, at the very least. So that said, the film acts as an overall lesson on terrorism--honestly, had they changed the names of every character and set it in a different country, they could've told the same story. The root causes of terrorism are rarely exclusive to nations, race or political ideals, but an ultimate vision of how a certain group of people expect the world to be, and they choose to create that world through fear. Because, as many organizations have found, fear is one of the most effective means of change.

Along with being a study of terrorism, "Complex" also manages to be a compelling thriller, with the cat and mouse between the RAF and the government and the relationships between the members within the group making for some very entertaining and fascinating drama. There are also frequent and shocking sequences of really intense violence that both thrill and disgust--in a way Edel is showing us how powerful the actions of terrorism can be while at the same time showing us quite simply what it really is. Thoughtless, emotionless, pointless violence.

This is where Edel most succeeds--he does not allow the fact that the RAF were glamorous to certain people in their time make the film glamorize them. They prove themselves to be less an army for political change and a new, perfect world and more a paranoid, reckless mess, often finding enemies where there are none and causing the deaths of numerous innocent people despite their "rules" against harming civilians. What separates civilians from an ordinary policeman who joined to enforce justice and is only fighting them because he has a political (and more importantly, moral) ideology all his own?

And one of the greatest roots of conflict within the film (and within any major political movement, to be truthful) is that neither side is willing to negotiate or even empathize with the other--not because one side is particularly unreasonable, but because they cannot allow themselves to appear weak. Nobody can be truly right in a war. That's what makes it war, whether it's in a battlefield or in the middle of a city.

Despite the intriguing premise and generally excellent direction, though, the film does drag a lot in its last act and it goes on far longer than necessary--many scenes late in the film seem arbitrary or repetitive, and the characterization throughout the film (excepting the main trio) leaves a lot to be desired, especially when Edel is so desperate to show us their mindset. Still, the very strong performances make up for this problem more often than not.

Overall, the film isn't perfect, and it doesn't quite match the brilliance of its fictional companion piece "The White Ribbon," but it does do a great deal in helping us understand a threat that will certainly not disappear anytime soon.

Grade: B

View the red-band movie trailer for "The Baader Meinhof Complex" below.  What are your thoughts?

DVD, Blu-ray Review

"The Baader Meinhof Complex"

Directed by Uli Edel, Written by Edel and Bernd Eichinger, 150 minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

Terrorism has been deep within the public consciousness these past 10 years, so it was only a matter of time before films like Michael Haneke's "The White Ribbon" and Uli Edel's "The Baader Meinhof Complex" started rolling around to explore the world of a terrorist--the root causes, the emotional investments, the sacrifices, and most of all, the inherent flaws and evils of terrorism. Both films also coincidentally take place in Germany and attempt to unravel and examine how every era has its own brand of terrorism. Both were also nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in their respective release years.

"Complex" in particular, unlike "Ribbon," is the true story of the German Red Army Faction (or RAF), a terrorist group that desperately sought to bring political change and worldwide awareness to the evils they believes were being done both in nationally and internationally in the late '60s and '70s. Their primary focus was the Vietnam War, as well as the conflicts in Israel that continue to this day.

Better known as the "Baader-Meinhof Group," the RAF was founded by liberal journalist Ulrike Meinhof (Martina Gedeck), all-around misfit Andreas Baader (Moritz Bliebtreu), and Andreas' girlfriend Gudrun Ensslin (Johanna Wokalek). Together the trio began a reign of fear in Germany, and the public's general ambivalence toward the political systems of the time and the RAF's glamorous appeal to angsty youths resulted in them becoming a specific target for the government to quash.

I can't say I have a comprehensive knowledge of the RAF or German history in general, but whether Edel and co-writer Bernd Eichinger's script is very accurate or not, some of the best "non-fiction" films are fictionalized, as fiction more often than reality is capable of conveying truth and emotion. In film, at the very least. So that said, the film acts as an overall lesson on terrorism--honestly, had they changed the names of every character and set it in a different country, they could've told the same story. The root causes of terrorism are rarely exclusive to nations, race or political ideals, but an ultimate vision of how a certain group of people expect the world to be, and they choose to create that world through fear. Because, as many organizations have found, fear is one of the most effective means of change.

Along with being a study of terrorism, "Complex" also manages to be a compelling thriller, with the cat and mouse between the RAF and the government and the relationships between the members within the group making for some very entertaining and fascinating drama. There are also frequent and shocking sequences of really intense violence that both thrill and disgust--in a way Edel is showing us how powerful the actions of terrorism can be while at the same time showing us quite simply what it really is. Thoughtless, emotionless, pointless violence.

This is where Edel most succeeds--he does not allow the fact that the RAF were glamorous to certain people in their time make the film glamorize them. They prove themselves to be less an army for political change and a new, perfect world and more a paranoid, reckless mess, often finding enemies where there are none and causing the deaths of numerous innocent people despite their "rules" against harming civilians. What separates civilians from an ordinary policeman who joined to enforce justice and is only fighting them because he has a political (and more importantly, moral) ideology all his own?

And one of the greatest roots of conflict within the film (and within any major political movement, to be truthful) is that neither side is willing to negotiate or even empathize with the other--not because one side is particularly unreasonable, but because they cannot allow themselves to appear weak. Nobody can be truly right in a war. That's what makes it war, whether it's in a battlefield or in the middle of a city.

Despite the intriguing premise and generally excellent direction, though, the film does drag a lot in its last act and it goes on far longer than necessary--many scenes late in the film seem arbitrary or repetitive, and the characterization throughout the film (excepting the main trio) leaves a lot to be desired, especially when Edel is so desperate to show us their mindset. Still, the very strong performances make up for this problem more often than not.

Overall, the film isn't perfect, and it doesn't quite match the brilliance of its fictional companion piece "The White Ribbon," but it does do a great deal in helping us understand a threat that will certainly not disappear anytime soon.

Grade: B

View the red-band movie trailer for "The Baader Meinhof Complex" below.  What are your thoughts?

Movie Review

"A Prophet" (Un Prophete)

Directed by Jacques Audiard, Written by Audiard, Thomas Bidegain, Abdel Raouf Dafri, and Nicolas Peufaillit, 150 minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"A Prophet" is a story that could be very simplistic and typical were it not for its extremely well-drawn characters, who are so real and interesting that this small-scale story is made into a true epic, just as powerful as its predecessors, such as "The Godfather" and "Goodfellas."

Malik El Djebena (Tahar Rahim), a French Arab, is illiterate and without friends or family when he is sentenced to six years in prison. Not quite accepted by the Arabs because he's not a Muslim and discrimated against by most other groups, he's manipulated by Corsican Mafioso Cesar Luciani (Niels Arestrup) into doing grunt work in exchange for protection. Trapped and more alone than ever, Malik finds himself in a downward spiral of violence and prejudice, until he befriends a prisoner-turned-teacher Ryad (Adel Bencherif) and starts making his own money and connections. Before long, Luciani realizes Malik may be a force he shouldn't have reckoned with.

Director Jacques Audiard made the film with the intention of representing French Arabs, which he felt had no previous place in French cinema. "A Prophet" definitely works on that level, and the discrimination felt between Arabs and the rest of the ethnic groups is portrayed subtly and effectively. But this is definitely more of a personal story than a political one, and the rise of Malik El Djebena is the strongest crime character study since "The Godfather: Part II." This is especially due to Rahim's incredible performance, which also is his first major role.

Though there are segments that take place outside of prison, we view the majority of Malik's life from inside, and throughout the film we get very used to the environent. The world of a prison cell is less depressing or terrifying as it is often conveyed and more an inspiration for Malik to rise above those around him and escape, and it's less a literal escape and more a symolic one. He lives six long years in that cell, but by triumphing over the criminals he lives among, he can make himself better than them. Often we see prison as a terrible place where rehabilitation is more a pipe dream than a possibility, but here we see one man truly transcend the filth and build a better life for himself.

Audiard definitely takes some cues from Scorsese and Coppola with his style, especially in his use of strong violence in overtly stylistic ways, but the film is never excessive or glorifying. However, this story is definitely a much different kind of story than the crime films of Scorsese and the like. Where many modern filmmakers use the crime genre as a means to explore the tragic side of ambition ("Blow," both "Godfather" films) this film is more like "City of God" in its portrayal of a man using crime as a means to an end, not as an easy way out. As Malik says at one point in the film when asked who he works for, "I work for no one. I work for myself." He doesn't answer to corrupt crime bosses or petty drug dealers. He cares about his friends, and he has a moral compass those he lives among clearly don't.

"A Prophet" is one of the five nominees for this year's Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, and if it didn't have such stiff competition in Michael Haneke's "The White Ribbon," I'd say it's the definite winner. It's by far one of the best crime films of the past decade, and one of the most powerful films to come out of 2009.

Grade: A

View the movie trailer for "A Prophet" below. What are your thoughts?

Movie Review

"A Prophet" (Un Prophete)

Directed by Jacques Audiard, Written by Audiard, Thomas Bidegain, Abdel Raouf Dafri, and Nicolas Peufaillit, 150 minutes, Rated R

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"A Prophet" is a story that could be very simplistic and typical were it not for its extremely well-drawn characters, who are so real and interesting that this small-scale story is made into a true epic, just as powerful as its predecessors, such as "The Godfather" and "Goodfellas."

Malik El Djebena (Tahar Rahim), a French Arab, is illiterate and without friends or family when he is sentenced to six years in prison. Not quite accepted by the Arabs because he's not a Muslim and discrimated against by most other groups, he's manipulated by Corsican Mafioso Cesar Luciani (Niels Arestrup) into doing grunt work in exchange for protection. Trapped and more alone than ever, Malik finds himself in a downward spiral of violence and prejudice, until he befriends a prisoner-turned-teacher Ryad (Adel Bencherif) and starts making his own money and connections. Before long, Luciani realizes Malik may be a force he shouldn't have reckoned with.

Director Jacques Audiard made the film with the intention of representing French Arabs, which he felt had no previous place in French cinema. "A Prophet" definitely works on that level, and the discrimination felt between Arabs and the rest of the ethnic groups is portrayed subtly and effectively. But this is definitely more of a personal story than a political one, and the rise of Malik El Djebena is the strongest crime character study since "The Godfather: Part II." This is especially due to Rahim's incredible performance, which also is his first major role.

Though there are segments that take place outside of prison, we view the majority of Malik's life from inside, and throughout the film we get very used to the environent. The world of a prison cell is less depressing or terrifying as it is often conveyed and more an inspiration for Malik to rise above those around him and escape, and it's less a literal escape and more a symolic one. He lives six long years in that cell, but by triumphing over the criminals he lives among, he can make himself better than them. Often we see prison as a terrible place where rehabilitation is more a pipe dream than a possibility, but here we see one man truly transcend the filth and build a better life for himself.

Audiard definitely takes some cues from Scorsese and Coppola with his style, especially in his use of strong violence in overtly stylistic ways, but the film is never excessive or glorifying. However, this story is definitely a much different kind of story than the crime films of Scorsese and the like. Where many modern filmmakers use the crime genre as a means to explore the tragic side of ambition ("Blow," both "Godfather" films) this film is more like "City of God" in its portrayal of a man using crime as a means to an end, not as an easy way out. As Malik says at one point in the film when asked who he works for, "I work for no one. I work for myself." He doesn't answer to corrupt crime bosses or petty drug dealers. He cares about his friends, and he has a moral compass those he lives among clearly don't.

"A Prophet" is one of the five nominees for this year's Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film, and if it didn't have such stiff competition in Michael Haneke's "The White Ribbon," I'd say it's the definite winner. It's by far one of the best crime films of the past decade, and one of the most powerful films to come out of 2009.

Grade: A

View the movie trailer for "A Prophet" below. What are your thoughts?

DVD, Blu-ray Review

"Revanche"

Directed by Gotz Spielmann, Written by Spielmann, 120 minutes, Rated R.

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"Revanche" opens with a shot of a deep forest reflected in a pond. Something suddenly falls and breaks the surface, with the ensuing splash sending ripples in all directions. Such a small splash can change so many things without notice.

The film follows several days in the lives of Alex (Johannes Krisch) and Robert (Andreas Lust). Alex works for Konecny, a man who owns and runs a brothel in Vienna, and who is unaware of a secret relationship between Alex and Tamara, an illegal Ukrainian immigrant working as a prostitute for Konecny. She is deeply in debt and fears she will never be able to leave her sorry life. Alex takes trips to a small village on the outskirts of the village every so often to take care of his ill grandfather (Johannes Thanheiser) and his farm.

Robert lives in a large house neighboring the farm, and he works as a policeman in Vienna. His wife has recently had a miscarriage and Robert learns he may now be infertile. He fears his wife, parents and colleagues have no faith in him.

One day Alex comes up with a scheme to rob a local bank. Everything goes according to plan and he goes in and out without trouble. But life is unpredictable. As Alex flees with Tamara in their getaway car to find a new life, Robert happens upon them and fires at their car. Tamara is accidentally shot and killed.

The film explores the aftermath of this failed heist, and, like life, the film never goes where you quite expect it. A lot of time is spent developing the psychology of the two men, so much so that every action before and after the heist feels completely believable. Alex's immediate reaction is to seek revenge on Robert, who he expects feels no remorse for his actions--little does he know that the guilt tears him apart, but he only wonders why the masked bank robber had his girlfriend with him in the first place. Neither of the two realize what the other is going through, and this one tragic moment spreads to their friends and families as well.

"Revanche" is a term that means retaliation or revenge, but it also means to regain lost territory or standing. This is no simple revenge or heist film. The characters struggle to get back the life they had before everything was put in upheaval. You may think you know what the characters are going to do in certain moments, but like life and like the seemingly perfectly planned heist, the film simply isn't predictable. Because people aren't predictable. Robert and Alex both think that they can understand what the other feels or plans to do, but the actions of the mind just cannot be so easily guessed.

The film is beautifully directed by Gotz Spielmann, who really made a splash himself when the film premiered in 2008. It opened to critical acclaim and went on to receive an Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Film last year, and it's pretty easy to say it earned it. The film could go in so many wrong directions, but it surprises you at every turn with how truthful it is, both in character and theme.

"Revanche" is a deeply effective and soulful work, and there's no film from the last few years about struggles with guilt I could recommend more highly.

Grade: A

View the Red Band international trailer for "Revanche" below. What are your thoughts?

DVD, Blu-ray Review

"Revanche"

Directed by Gotz Spielmann, Written by Spielmann, 120 minutes, Rated R.

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

"Revanche" opens with a shot of a deep forest reflected in a pond. Something suddenly falls and breaks the surface, with the ensuing splash sending ripples in all directions. Such a small splash can change so many things without notice.

The film follows several days in the lives of Alex (Johannes Krisch) and Robert (Andreas Lust). Alex works for Konecny, a man who owns and runs a brothel in Vienna, and who is unaware of a secret relationship between Alex and Tamara, an illegal Ukrainian immigrant working as a prostitute for Konecny. She is deeply in debt and fears she will never be able to leave her sorry life. Alex takes trips to a small village on the outskirts of the village every so often to take care of his ill grandfather (Johannes Thanheiser) and his farm.

Robert lives in a large house neighboring the farm, and he works as a policeman in Vienna. His wife has recently had a miscarriage and Robert learns he may now be infertile. He fears his wife, parents and colleagues have no faith in him.

One day Alex comes up with a scheme to rob a local bank. Everything goes according to plan and he goes in and out without trouble. But life is unpredictable. As Alex flees with Tamara in their getaway car to find a new life, Robert happens upon them and fires at their car. Tamara is accidentally shot and killed.

The film explores the aftermath of this failed heist, and, like life, the film never goes where you quite expect it. A lot of time is spent developing the psychology of the two men, so much so that every action before and after the heist feels completely believable. Alex's immediate reaction is to seek revenge on Robert, who he expects feels no remorse for his actions--little does he know that the guilt tears him apart, but he only wonders why the masked bank robber had his girlfriend with him in the first place. Neither of the two realize what the other is going through, and this one tragic moment spreads to their friends and families as well.

"Revanche" is a term that means retaliation or revenge, but it also means to regain lost territory or standing. This is no simple revenge or heist film. The characters struggle to get back the life they had before everything was put in upheaval. You may think you know what the characters are going to do in certain moments, but like life and like the seemingly perfectly planned heist, the film simply isn't predictable. Because people aren't predictable. Robert and Alex both think that they can understand what the other feels or plans to do, but the actions of the mind just cannot be so easily guessed.

The film is beautifully directed by Gotz Spielmann, who really made a splash himself when the film premiered in 2008. It opened to critical acclaim and went on to receive an Academy Award nomination for Best Foreign Film last year, and it's pretty easy to say it earned it. The film could go in so many wrong directions, but it surprises you at every turn with how truthful it is, both in character and theme.

"Revanche" is a deeply effective and soulful work, and there's no film from the last few years about struggles with guilt I could recommend more highly.

Grade: A

View the Red Band international trailer for "Revanche" below. What are your thoughts?

The Mirror (1975)

Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky, written by Tarkovsky and Aleksandr Misharin, featuring poetry by Arseni Tarkovsky, 108 minutes, not rated.

By our guest blogger, Kicia Sears

There is much to be said about Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky’s 1975 film "The Mirror," but none of the praise would be for the taught plot arc and distinctive characters. The film is loosely based on the director’s childhood and offers nearly two hours of interwoven dream sequences, memories and footage from World War I.

There is no overarching plot structure. Basically, the movie takes place in a few general time periods in Tarkovsky’s life--when Aleksei (based on the director) was a young boy living in the country with his mother Maroussia; an older Aleksei and his interactions with his wife Natalya, his son Ignat, and his mother; and finally, the war. Tarkovsky likes to use symbolism, dreams and unconventional storytelling techniques to produce different effects on the audience. It would appear that the intended effect behind "The Mirror" is to confuse. Not only because the plot is a patchwork, but also because most of the major characters are played by the same actors or otherwise look very similar.

Margarita Terekhova and Ignat Daniltsev play two characters each (Maroussia/Natalya, and Aleksei/Ignat, respectively). If that doesn’t make it confusing enough, each set of characters has the same relationship--mother-son. Terekhova does an incredible job while faced with a difficult task, setting up subtle differences between two characters that gradually build, though it’s still tough to keep track of who’s who.

Once you figure that out, there’s the problem of what happens. We find out immediately that Aleksei’s father is out of the picture. Later, an adult, Aleksei finds himself clinging to his 13-year-old son Ignat, though it would appear that the tension between Natalya and Aleksei after divorcing has left Ignat with some bitterness toward his father.

At one point, Aleksei has a dream that his mother is washing her hair when it starts raining inside the room. It’s a beautiful sequence, and Tarkovsky is known for using rain/running water juxtaposed against fire, as in another scene (a memory) in which the family barn burns down. There also are memory scenes involving Aleksei’s mother at her job as a copy editor, where her mental state is revealed as very fragile. The war hits Russia, and the audience is shown grim footage featuring children crying and the chilling failure of the CCCP-1 stratospheric balloon launch. Though the film is supposed to be somewhat of an autobiography, it lacks the intimacy of such by refusing to give the audience Aleksei’s true point of view. At the end of the day, it’s muddled and confusing despite its admirable unorthodoxy.

Unfortunately, the area in which the film suffers most for non-Russian speaking viewers are the subtitles. They are done in thin, white lettering and whenever they appear on something that is lightly colored or white, which happens about 50 percent of the time in a black and white film, it is impossible to read the dialogue or poetry. This is incredibly distracting and the film suffers from even more obscurity for English speaking audiences because of it.

However, one is able to collect a few moments of clarity that trickle out of the obtuse. It is clear that Aleksei’s father left when he was a child, and he grew up loving and resenting his mother. Later, perhaps in an attempt to make up for his fractured relationship with his mother, he married a girl who looked like her, only to find out how different the two women really are. The film seems hopeless, as if at the end Tarkovsky realized that he couldn’t make up for lost time.

Some say that before a person dies, their life flashes before their eyes--and this film very well could be what flashes before Aleksei’s (Tarkovsky’s) eyes on his deathbed. It’s a collection of memories mixed with dreams until they can’t be separated, sobering wartime experiences, and attempts to understand his mother and his ex-wife better than he had before. It is placed against a somber score of classical music, and the cinematography is beautiful. The Mirror is enjoyable to watch, and even if at the end you can’t tell mother from girl and boy from man, there is the feeling that sometimes Tarkovsky couldn’t either.


Grade: B-

The Mirror (1975)

Directed by Andrei Tarkovsky, written by Tarkovsky and Aleksandr Misharin, featuring poetry by Arseni Tarkovsky, 108 minutes, not rated.

By our guest blogger, Kicia Sears

There is much to be said about Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky’s 1975 film "The Mirror," but none of the praise would be for the taught plot arc and distinctive characters. The film is loosely based on the director’s childhood and offers nearly two hours of interwoven dream sequences, memories and footage from World War I.

There is no overarching plot structure. Basically, the movie takes place in a few general time periods in Tarkovsky’s life--when Aleksei (based on the director) was a young boy living in the country with his mother Maroussia; an older Aleksei and his interactions with his wife Natalya, his son Ignat, and his mother; and finally, the war. Tarkovsky likes to use symbolism, dreams and unconventional storytelling techniques to produce different effects on the audience. It would appear that the intended effect behind "The Mirror" is to confuse. Not only because the plot is a patchwork, but also because most of the major characters are played by the same actors or otherwise look very similar.

Margarita Terekhova and Ignat Daniltsev play two characters each (Maroussia/Natalya, and Aleksei/Ignat, respectively). If that doesn’t make it confusing enough, each set of characters has the same relationship--mother-son. Terekhova does an incredible job while faced with a difficult task, setting up subtle differences between two characters that gradually build, though it’s still tough to keep track of who’s who.

Once you figure that out, there’s the problem of what happens. We find out immediately that Aleksei’s father is out of the picture. Later, an adult, Aleksei finds himself clinging to his 13-year-old son Ignat, though it would appear that the tension between Natalya and Aleksei after divorcing has left Ignat with some bitterness toward his father.

At one point, Aleksei has a dream that his mother is washing her hair when it starts raining inside the room. It’s a beautiful sequence, and Tarkovsky is known for using rain/running water juxtaposed against fire, as in another scene (a memory) in which the family barn burns down. There also are memory scenes involving Aleksei’s mother at her job as a copy editor, where her mental state is revealed as very fragile. The war hits Russia, and the audience is shown grim footage featuring children crying and the chilling failure of the CCCP-1 stratospheric balloon launch. Though the film is supposed to be somewhat of an autobiography, it lacks the intimacy of such by refusing to give the audience Aleksei’s true point of view. At the end of the day, it’s muddled and confusing despite its admirable unorthodoxy.

Unfortunately, the area in which the film suffers most for non-Russian speaking viewers are the subtitles. They are done in thin, white lettering and whenever they appear on something that is lightly colored or white, which happens about 50 percent of the time in a black and white film, it is impossible to read the dialogue or poetry. This is incredibly distracting and the film suffers from even more obscurity for English speaking audiences because of it.

However, one is able to collect a few moments of clarity that trickle out of the obtuse. It is clear that Aleksei’s father left when he was a child, and he grew up loving and resenting his mother. Later, perhaps in an attempt to make up for his fractured relationship with his mother, he married a girl who looked like her, only to find out how different the two women really are. The film seems hopeless, as if at the end Tarkovsky realized that he couldn’t make up for lost time.

Some say that before a person dies, their life flashes before their eyes--and this film very well could be what flashes before Aleksei’s (Tarkovsky’s) eyes on his deathbed. It’s a collection of memories mixed with dreams until they can’t be separated, sobering wartime experiences, and attempts to understand his mother and his ex-wife better than he had before. It is placed against a somber score of classical music, and the cinematography is beautiful. The Mirror is enjoyable to watch, and even if at the end you can’t tell mother from girl and boy from man, there is the feeling that sometimes Tarkovsky couldn’t either.


Grade: B-

Movie Review

"Fish Tank"

Directed by Andrea Arnold, Written by Arnold, 123 minutes, Not Rated.

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

Life for a teenager can be rough--so many changes, so much unbridled anger, resentment and depression. It's only made worse if you're in a trying financial situation, your friends have all deserted you, and you're trapped somewhere you cannot express yourself.

"Fish Tank," the sophomore film from British "Red Road" director Andrea Arnold, stars newcomer Katie Jarvis as such a youth, 15-year-old Mia, raised by a mother too drunk or apathetic to take care of her in a trashy neighborhood in Essex, England. She has no friends and doesn't go to school, but she gets through her day with her love of urban dancing. She escapes to an abandoned apartment in her complex, cranks up the volume, and just goes wild. It is her life.

One day her mother brings home a new boyfriend, Connor (Michael Fassbender of "Hunger" and "Inglourious Basterds"). He's not much like Mia's mother. He's charming, kind, and he actually respects Mia. He encourages her dancing and attempts to bring the family together. Things don't quite work out that way, however, especially once Mia and Connor's relationship becomes a little more than flirtatious.

This a really wonderful little film, a combination of your everyday coming-of-age feature and a stark and realistic depiction of lower-class life in England. Like its main character Mia, the film has a very tough and harsh exterior but truthfully has a lot of heart, and this especially becomes apparent in these little moments where Mia opens up and shows her true emotions. She's confused and full of rage, but she's just another kid, she doesn't know quite what she wants and the film follows her as she finally comes to term with her maturity.

The visuals are often great, with these picturesque locales and gorgeous sunsets captured in a very tight aspect ratio and closed-in framing (presumably to convey Mia's claustrophobic existence, as if she were in, appropriately, a fish tank). It's a pleasure for what is in most ways a minimal film to contain such beautiful photography.

Katie Jarvis carries the entire film, though. It's her first film role (ever, not just in a major film or anything--she was literally found by the producers in a train station and she was hired), but she does an extraordinary job and she captures the attitude and spirit of someone of Mia's age and standing very well. She's complemented fairly well by Michael Fassbender, who has that easy charm and coolness that made him so likable in his brief but crucial role in "Basterds" and to a lesser extent "300." The two have incredible chemistry, which makes their budding and highly inappropriate relationship feel a lot more real.

"Fish Tank" has proven to be quite a critical darling, both at Cannes Film Festival and upon its earlier release in the United Kingdom, and the acclaim is mostly well-deserved. It loses a bit of momentum in the last act, but it manages to pick itself back up by the end, and Mia's character is one you can really enjoy spending the whole film with, despite her occasionally cold nature. And, of course, any sucker for a coming-of-age drama will almost definitely enjoy this film. I think Jarvis has got a great career ahead of her, and I'm equally looking forward to what Andrea Arnold comes up with next.

Grade: B+

View the trailer for "Fish Tank" below.  What are your thoughts?

Movie Review

"Fish Tank"

Directed by Andrea Arnold, Written by Arnold, 123 minutes, Not Rated.

By our guest blogger, Rob Stammitti

Life for a teenager can be rough--so many changes, so much unbridled anger, resentment and depression. It's only made worse if you're in a trying financial situation, your friends have all deserted you, and you're trapped somewhere you cannot express yourself.

"Fish Tank," the sophomore film from British "Red Road" director Andrea Arnold, stars newcomer Katie Jarvis as such a youth, 15-year-old Mia, raised by a mother too drunk or apathetic to take care of her in a trashy neighborhood in Essex, England. She has no friends and doesn't go to school, but she gets through her day with her love of urban dancing. She escapes to an abandoned apartment in her complex, cranks up the volume, and just goes wild. It is her life.

One day her mother brings home a new boyfriend, Connor (Michael Fassbender of "Hunger" and "Inglourious Basterds"). He's not much like Mia's mother. He's charming, kind, and he actually respects Mia. He encourages her dancing and attempts to bring the family together. Things don't quite work out that way, however, especially once Mia and Connor's relationship becomes a little more than flirtatious.

This a really wonderful little film, a combination of your everyday coming-of-age feature and a stark and realistic depiction of lower-class life in England. Like its main character Mia, the film has a very tough and harsh exterior but truthfully has a lot of heart, and this especially becomes apparent in these little moments where Mia opens up and shows her true emotions. She's confused and full of rage, but she's just another kid, she doesn't know quite what she wants and the film follows her as she finally comes to term with her maturity.

The visuals are often great, with these picturesque locales and gorgeous sunsets captured in a very tight aspect ratio and closed-in framing (presumably to convey Mia's claustrophobic existence, as if she were in, appropriately, a fish tank). It's a pleasure for what is in most ways a minimal film to contain such beautiful photography.

Katie Jarvis carries the entire film, though. It's her first film role (ever, not just in a major film or anything--she was literally found by the producers in a train station and she was hired), but she does an extraordinary job and she captures the attitude and spirit of someone of Mia's age and standing very well. She's complemented fairly well by Michael Fassbender, who has that easy charm and coolness that made him so likable in his brief but crucial role in "Basterds" and to a lesser extent "300." The two have incredible chemistry, which makes their budding and highly inappropriate relationship feel a lot more real.

"Fish Tank" has proven to be quite a critical darling, both at Cannes Film Festival and upon its earlier release in the United Kingdom, and the acclaim is mostly well-deserved. It loses a bit of momentum in the last act, but it manages to pick itself back up by the end, and Mia's character is one you can really enjoy spending the whole film with, despite her occasionally cold nature. And, of course, any sucker for a coming-of-age drama will almost definitely enjoy this film. I think Jarvis has got a great career ahead of her, and I'm equally looking forward to what Andrea Arnold comes up with next.

Grade: B+

View the trailer for "Fish Tank" below.  What are your thoughts?

Movie Review

"35 Shots of Rum"

Directed by Claire Denis, written by Denis and Jean-Pol Fargeau, 100 minutes, not rated.

By our guest blogger, Kicia Sears

While watching "35 Rhums (35 Shots of Rum)," it may help to have a good command of French. If you rely on English alone, figuring out what's going on will be difficult. Things happen somewhat at random and other events are left unexplained. Perhaps it’s the translation. However, there are many things that contribute to a film’s success or failure, and blaming the subtitles doesn’t erase the other gaps in the story. Though director Claire Denis takes pride in using mystery and subtlety, the plot is confusing and frustrating.

Sometimes, subtle simply means weak.

The story revolves around train conductor Lionel and his college-student daughter, Josephine. We meet Gabrielle and Noé, two neighbors who spend a lot of time with Lionel and Jo. It becomes apparent that Gabrielle and Lionel have a romantic history. We follow their daily lives, and after they visit a café where Noé reveals feelings for Jo, she and Lionel decide to take a trip. Working with this narrative is another arc about one of Lionel’s colleagues, René, who retires. A 35-shot tradition is introduced at his retirement party, but Lionel refuses to take them, saying that one only does this once in his life and that the time has to be right. Upon their return there is a wedding, and Lionel takes his 35 shots of rum.

At the end of the film, there are many things left to guessing. For example, some might wonder why anyone want to take 35 shots of rum? Why is this a tradition? Is this some kind of French thing that never made it to the States? The answer is simple--who knows? In an interview, Denis states that she made up the 35-shot “tradition” and that the number 35 is arbitrary. OK, so why as an audience do we care? You’d think that, because it is such a specific number and somewhat addressed in the film--it is, after all, the title of the movie--that Denis is trying to make some kind of symbolic statement. To know that she made it up seems unfair, as if we were dragged through the plot and at the end of the rainbow (and a pretty bleak rainbow at that), there is no pot of gold.

Then there are the rice cookers. Jo and Lionel both bought them the same day, but Jo hides hers when Lionel brings one home. Lionel finds Jo’s rice cooker.   The final shot in the film is of both cookers. They could be material objects standing in for Lionel and Jo…but it's unclear. When asked if they stand for change, Denis affirms but refuses to elaborate. This, like the rum, is another example of an obscure symbol that doesn’t deliver.

But it isn't all bad. As characters, Lionel and Josephine are likable. They have a bond that's expressed not only through words and affection, but through the way their movements are synchronized. They achieve chemistry that shines through the muddled plot and spotty dialogue. That takes a kind of brilliance, all due to Mati Diop and Alex Descas, who play Jo and Lionel, respectively. However, Noé is tiring and Gabrielle is squirm-inducing in her awkwardness. She calls the four of them a “family” when it is pretty clear that Jo doesn’t feel that way and Lionel isn’t interested. She seems to invite herself along, and her constant knocking on the door talking about how great it was when she would babysit Jo is just creepy. I’m still not buying Lionel’s supposed interest (according to Denis) in Gabrielle--even his nonverbal cues signaled nothing but annoyance at her constant badgering about the old days and one thing to remember is that while he’s being nice to her at the end of the movie, he is also 30 shots into his 35 shots of rum. At that point, he’d probably have an engrossing conversation with a houseplant.

Compositionally, the film is average peppered with a few very nice shots. One interesting thing about Denis’ cinematography is that during shot-reverse-shot sequences, she allows the camera to linger a moment before the reverse. This serves to magnify the tension and delicacy of Jo and Lionel’s relationship, and how it is being affected by their relationships. Denis also enjoys shooting on location, which gives each of her films a distinctly gritty, real look.

So, the bottom line.  "35 Shots of Rum" is about a half hour too long, and too confusing to be intimate. The plot simply doesn’t deliver a coherent message on its own. It’d be too easy to say that American audiences aren’t advanced enough to understand French cinema, what with our "Die Hard" epics and chick flicks, but when the characters aren’t compelling enough to maintain interest, that’s something that can’t be blamed on the language barrier.

Should you watch the movie with someone who speaks French, perhaps the experience is different, though even they can’t help make visual cues more coherent or Gabrielle less creepy.

Grade: C

View the trailer for "35 Shots of Rum" below. What are your thoughts?

Movie Review

"35 Shots of Rum"

Directed by Claire Denis, written by Denis and Jean-Pol Fargeau, 100 minutes, not rated.

By our guest blogger, Kicia Sears

While watching "35 Rhums (35 Shots of Rum)," it may help to have a good command of French. If you rely on English alone, figuring out what's going on will be difficult. Things happen somewhat at random and other events are left unexplained. Perhaps it’s the translation. However, there are many things that contribute to a film’s success or failure, and blaming the subtitles doesn’t erase the other gaps in the story. Though director Claire Denis takes pride in using mystery and subtlety, the plot is confusing and frustrating.

Sometimes, subtle simply means weak.

The story revolves around train conductor Lionel and his college-student daughter, Josephine. We meet Gabrielle and Noé, two neighbors who spend a lot of time with Lionel and Jo. It becomes apparent that Gabrielle and Lionel have a romantic history. We follow their daily lives, and after they visit a café where Noé reveals feelings for Jo, she and Lionel decide to take a trip. Working with this narrative is another arc about one of Lionel’s colleagues, René, who retires. A 35-shot tradition is introduced at his retirement party, but Lionel refuses to take them, saying that one only does this once in his life and that the time has to be right. Upon their return there is a wedding, and Lionel takes his 35 shots of rum.

At the end of the film, there are many things left to guessing. For example, some might wonder why anyone want to take 35 shots of rum? Why is this a tradition? Is this some kind of French thing that never made it to the States? The answer is simple--who knows? In an interview, Denis states that she made up the 35-shot “tradition” and that the number 35 is arbitrary. OK, so why as an audience do we care? You’d think that, because it is such a specific number and somewhat addressed in the film--it is, after all, the title of the movie--that Denis is trying to make some kind of symbolic statement. To know that she made it up seems unfair, as if we were dragged through the plot and at the end of the rainbow (and a pretty bleak rainbow at that), there is no pot of gold.

Then there are the rice cookers. Jo and Lionel both bought them the same day, but Jo hides hers when Lionel brings one home. Lionel finds Jo’s rice cooker.   The final shot in the film is of both cookers. They could be material objects standing in for Lionel and Jo…but it's unclear. When asked if they stand for change, Denis affirms but refuses to elaborate. This, like the rum, is another example of an obscure symbol that doesn’t deliver.

But it isn't all bad. As characters, Lionel and Josephine are likable. They have a bond that's expressed not only through words and affection, but through the way their movements are synchronized. They achieve chemistry that shines through the muddled plot and spotty dialogue. That takes a kind of brilliance, all due to Mati Diop and Alex Descas, who play Jo and Lionel, respectively. However, Noé is tiring and Gabrielle is squirm-inducing in her awkwardness. She calls the four of them a “family” when it is pretty clear that Jo doesn’t feel that way and Lionel isn’t interested. She seems to invite herself along, and her constant knocking on the door talking about how great it was when she would babysit Jo is just creepy. I’m still not buying Lionel’s supposed interest (according to Denis) in Gabrielle--even his nonverbal cues signaled nothing but annoyance at her constant badgering about the old days and one thing to remember is that while he’s being nice to her at the end of the movie, he is also 30 shots into his 35 shots of rum. At that point, he’d probably have an engrossing conversation with a houseplant.

Compositionally, the film is average peppered with a few very nice shots. One interesting thing about Denis’ cinematography is that during shot-reverse-shot sequences, she allows the camera to linger a moment before the reverse. This serves to magnify the tension and delicacy of Jo and Lionel’s relationship, and how it is being affected by their relationships. Denis also enjoys shooting on location, which gives each of her films a distinctly gritty, real look.

So, the bottom line.  "35 Shots of Rum" is about a half hour too long, and too confusing to be intimate. The plot simply doesn’t deliver a coherent message on its own. It’d be too easy to say that American audiences aren’t advanced enough to understand French cinema, what with our "Die Hard" epics and chick flicks, but when the characters aren’t compelling enough to maintain interest, that’s something that can’t be blamed on the language barrier.

Should you watch the movie with someone who speaks French, perhaps the experience is different, though even they can’t help make visual cues more coherent or Gabrielle less creepy.

Grade: C

View the trailer for "35 Shots of Rum" below. What are your thoughts?

Movie, DVD Review

"Loves a Blonde" (1965)

Directed by Milos Forman, 84 minutes.

By our guest blogger, Eva Medoff

There is a stereotype that Czechs are notoriously reserved (41 years of Communist rule will do that to you). There is one thing, however, they are not reserved about in the slightest, and that is love. Like most Europeans, Czechs are far more open about sex than Americans--today, scenes witnessed on a Czech metro wouldn’t even be tolerated on a hormonal CW show in the US. Then again, years of repression by the Soviet Union, Nazi Germany and the Austrio-Hungarian Empire before them took its artistic toll on this tiny country in Central Europe. Which is why, circa 1965, it was all the more surprising when Czechoslovakia experienced its own revolution in film--the Czech New Wave.

Of its cinematic achievements, Miloš Forman’s “Loves of a Blonde” is required viewing for anyone interested in '60s film.

“Loves of a Blonde” (also known as “A Blonde in Love”), tells the story of Andula (Hana Brejchová), a young factory worker living in the old mill town of Zruč. Our heroine is a Czech Brigitte Bardot, complete with volumized blonde hair and heavy eyeliner. In Zruč, the factories are all women, the females outnumber the males to an alarming degree, and there’s little else to do but daydream about ways to make a better life. Czechoslovakia was a nation imprisoned, and Andula was a girl imprisoned by her gender and class.

It’s little wonder Andula tends to fall for any attractive guy that looks her way. Attaching herself to a man is her only means of escape. When the film opens, Andula whispers to a friend underneath the covers in her girls dormitory (yes, this was 1965, not the Lowell mills of the 19th century, though the similarities are striking) about her current beau, who gave her an engagement ring and promptly disappeared. Although Andula doesn’t admit this fact to her friend, she seems to have moved on when a train full of soldiers descends on the town for a dance.

The manager of the factory is determined to provide some entertainment for the girls, so arranges for the night of comingling. “They work eight hours a day,” he says, and when they go home they have no one to “caress them.” Even this guy is concerned with the girls’ sex lives.

The Czech New Wave was characterized by long, improvised dialogue and the use of nonprofessional actors. This can be seen in the dance sequence, the longest stretch of the film. Forman handles the flirtation ritual with hilarity and warmth, showing a group of unattractive, nervous soldiers debate whether to approach Andula and her friends, and on the flip side, Andula and her friends panicking about the unattractive soldiers looking their way.

Despite all this, Andula ends the night chatting with a handsome pianist, Milda (Vladimír Pucholt) who unabashedly attempts to lure her to his dormitory. His coercion from stairwell to room, doorway to bed, and sweater to bare back is borderline criminal, and certainly unethical. However, the shot of Milda and Andula lying draped on each other in bed is worth any murky moral conundrums, especially when Milda utters the most famous line of the film. He calls Andula angular, explaining that all women look like guitars. “And you, you look like a guitar too," he says, "but one painted by Picasso.”

Andula mistakes their night of passion for true love and decides to follow Milda back to his parent’s house in Prague. The debacle caused by her unexpected arrival leads to more comical streams of dialogue, but I’ll stop short of describing the ending.

“Loves of a Blonde” is a snap shot to a different time and a different place. Not surprisingly, it was made during a period of relatively lax control of media, which reached its climax in 1968 during the Prague Spring. This movement toward freedom was swiftly crushed, and Forman made his way to New York and to five Academy Awards with “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” If that film focused on a man imprisoned, “Loves of a Blonde” is about a girl encaged in a moment before a legendary director broke free of his own political confines.

Movie, DVD Review

"Loves a Blonde" (1965)

Directed by Milos Forman, 84 minutes.

By our guest blogger, Eva Medoff

There is a stereotype that Czechs are notoriously reserved (41 years of Communist rule will do that to you). There is one thing, however, they are not reserved about in the slightest, and that is love. Like most Europeans, Czechs are far more open about sex than Americans--today, scenes witnessed on a Czech metro wouldn’t even be tolerated on a hormonal CW show in the US. Then again, years of repression by the Soviet Union, Nazi Germany and the Austrio-Hungarian Empire before them took its artistic toll on this tiny country in Central Europe. Which is why, circa 1965, it was all the more surprising when Czechoslovakia experienced its own revolution in film--the Czech New Wave.

Of its cinematic achievements, Miloš Forman’s “Loves of a Blonde” is required viewing for anyone interested in '60s film.

“Loves of a Blonde” (also known as “A Blonde in Love”), tells the story of Andula (Hana Brejchová), a young factory worker living in the old mill town of Zruč. Our heroine is a Czech Brigitte Bardot, complete with volumized blonde hair and heavy eyeliner. In Zruč, the factories are all women, the females outnumber the males to an alarming degree, and there’s little else to do but daydream about ways to make a better life. Czechoslovakia was a nation imprisoned, and Andula was a girl imprisoned by her gender and class.

It’s little wonder Andula tends to fall for any attractive guy that looks her way. Attaching herself to a man is her only means of escape. When the film opens, Andula whispers to a friend underneath the covers in her girls dormitory (yes, this was 1965, not the Lowell mills of the 19th century, though the similarities are striking) about her current beau, who gave her an engagement ring and promptly disappeared. Although Andula doesn’t admit this fact to her friend, she seems to have moved on when a train full of soldiers descends on the town for a dance.

The manager of the factory is determined to provide some entertainment for the girls, so arranges for the night of comingling. “They work eight hours a day,” he says, and when they go home they have no one to “caress them.” Even this guy is concerned with the girls’ sex lives.

The Czech New Wave was characterized by long, improvised dialogue and the use of nonprofessional actors. This can be seen in the dance sequence, the longest stretch of the film. Forman handles the flirtation ritual with hilarity and warmth, showing a group of unattractive, nervous soldiers debate whether to approach Andula and her friends, and on the flip side, Andula and her friends panicking about the unattractive soldiers looking their way.

Despite all this, Andula ends the night chatting with a handsome pianist, Milda (Vladimír Pucholt) who unabashedly attempts to lure her to his dormitory. His coercion from stairwell to room, doorway to bed, and sweater to bare back is borderline criminal, and certainly unethical. However, the shot of Milda and Andula lying draped on each other in bed is worth any murky moral conundrums, especially when Milda utters the most famous line of the film. He calls Andula angular, explaining that all women look like guitars. “And you, you look like a guitar too," he says, "but one painted by Picasso.”

Andula mistakes their night of passion for true love and decides to follow Milda back to his parent’s house in Prague. The debacle caused by her unexpected arrival leads to more comical streams of dialogue, but I’ll stop short of describing the ending.

“Loves of a Blonde” is a snap shot to a different time and a different place. Not surprisingly, it was made during a period of relatively lax control of media, which reached its climax in 1968 during the Prague Spring. This movement toward freedom was swiftly crushed, and Forman made his way to New York and to five Academy Awards with “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.” If that film focused on a man imprisoned, “Loves of a Blonde” is about a girl encaged in a moment before a legendary director broke free of his own political confines.

Movie Review

"Lake Tahoe"

Directed by Fernando Eimbcke, written by Eimbcke and Paula Markovich, 89 minutes.

By our guest blogger, Kicia Sears

The opening sequence of “Lake Tahoe” sets the tone for the rest of the film with its simple soundtrack and slow cutting between static shots. Unlike many independent films of its genre, it doesn’t try too hard to pound out a message. It places the responsibility for understanding the film in the audience’s hands as it leads the observer through a day with Juan (Diego Catano, excellent in the role), which emphasizes both the mundanity and the oddity of everyday life.

The plot follows Juan--a teenage boy who crashed his car into a pole--as he tries to get the car fixed before his mother finds out. He first meets Don Heber (Hector Herrera), a reclusive old man whose only companion is a dog. Don tries to help him fix his car but doesn’t have the right part to do so. Next, Juan meets Lucia (Daniela Valentine), a young mother who works in an auto shop along with David (Juan Carlos Lara II), a kung fu obsessed teenage mechanic. Amid the antics involved in finding and replacing the car part, we are given glimpses into Juan’s home life. There, Juan’s interactions with his younger brother Joaquin and his mother allude to a recent family tragedy. The film balances the seriousness of the family’s situation with the bizarre and obscure happenings of a day in Juan’s life in ways in which neither overshadows the other.

The cinematography is striking. Many scenes consist of a lovely static shot that, for a moment, seems like a photograph. While the camera lingers, characters come into a scene and leave it, which posits Juan and company as the intruders in the shot. This helps to communicate the feeling of being in a foreign country and/or not in control of one’s surroundings, which is similar to what Juan feels in the film. Cinematographer Alexis Zabe also chooses to cut to black in an effort to show the passage of time, which is funny in some scenes, but which becomes a little tedious, as does the repetition of the static shot.

For the most part, the shots are beautifully framed--the audience is allowed to let their eyes wander to notice details. In the scene in which David’s mother is lecturing Juan over the breakfast table, David’s passivity in the left side of the shot is hilariously juxtaposed with Juan’s uneasiness. Unlike other movies, being able to simultaneously communicate different perspectives in a scene is something done well here.

Though it is difficult to analyze a script through subtitles since translation can complicate the interpretation of dialogue, the plot overall is touching and poignant. Watching Joaquin and the boys’ mother need Juan grounds the story and makes Juan’s actions seem at once selfish and understandable.

The movie's only real disappointment is the disclosure of what its title refers to (it won’t be revealed here.) Also, instead of offering something deeper, the use of a Wellesian “Rosebud” symbol doesn't reinforce the movie so much as it takes some of its power away from it. Though the point of using an arbitrary symbol may have been to reiterate the randomness of life, what could have been a clean, tight climax ends up being a disappointment.

That said, Yemil Sefani is endearing as Joaquin, and the David and Don Heber characters give an almost "Napoleon Dynamite" feel to a film that leaves its audience wanting to know more about Juan and his family.

Movie Review

"Lake Tahoe"

Directed by Fernando Eimbcke, written by Eimbcke and Paula Markovich, 89 minutes.

By our guest blogger, Kicia Sears

The opening sequence of “Lake Tahoe” sets the tone for the rest of the film with its simple soundtrack and slow cutting between static shots. Unlike many independent films of its genre, it doesn’t try too hard to pound out a message. It places the responsibility for understanding the film in the audience’s hands as it leads the observer through a day with Juan (Diego Catano, excellent in the role), which emphasizes both the mundanity and the oddity of everyday life.

The plot follows Juan--a teenage boy who crashed his car into a pole--as he tries to get the car fixed before his mother finds out. He first meets Don Heber (Hector Herrera), a reclusive old man whose only companion is a dog. Don tries to help him fix his car but doesn’t have the right part to do so. Next, Juan meets Lucia (Daniela Valentine), a young mother who works in an auto shop along with David (Juan Carlos Lara II), a kung fu obsessed teenage mechanic. Amid the antics involved in finding and replacing the car part, we are given glimpses into Juan’s home life. There, Juan’s interactions with his younger brother Joaquin and his mother allude to a recent family tragedy. The film balances the seriousness of the family’s situation with the bizarre and obscure happenings of a day in Juan’s life in ways in which neither overshadows the other.

The cinematography is striking. Many scenes consist of a lovely static shot that, for a moment, seems like a photograph. While the camera lingers, characters come into a scene and leave it, which posits Juan and company as the intruders in the shot. This helps to communicate the feeling of being in a foreign country and/or not in control of one’s surroundings, which is similar to what Juan feels in the film. Cinematographer Alexis Zabe also chooses to cut to black in an effort to show the passage of time, which is funny in some scenes, but which becomes a little tedious, as does the repetition of the static shot.

For the most part, the shots are beautifully framed--the audience is allowed to let their eyes wander to notice details. In the scene in which David’s mother is lecturing Juan over the breakfast table, David’s passivity in the left side of the shot is hilariously juxtaposed with Juan’s uneasiness. Unlike other movies, being able to simultaneously communicate different perspectives in a scene is something done well here.

Though it is difficult to analyze a script through subtitles since translation can complicate the interpretation of dialogue, the plot overall is touching and poignant. Watching Joaquin and the boys’ mother need Juan grounds the story and makes Juan’s actions seem at once selfish and understandable.

The movie's only real disappointment is the disclosure of what its title refers to (it won’t be revealed here.) Also, instead of offering something deeper, the use of a Wellesian “Rosebud” symbol doesn't reinforce the movie so much as it takes some of its power away from it. Though the point of using an arbitrary symbol may have been to reiterate the randomness of life, what could have been a clean, tight climax ends up being a disappointment.

That said, Yemil Sefani is endearing as Joaquin, and the David and Don Heber characters give an almost "Napoleon Dynamite" feel to a film that leaves its audience wanting to know more about Juan and his family.