The best films I saw in 2008, w/ one comment

01 In Bruges
02 Cloverfield
03 The Dark Knight

04 Noriko's Dinner Table (Noriko no Shokutaku, 2005)
Sion Sono's second facet to his yet to be realized Suicide Circle Trilogy is a masterwork in its own right and a film that speaks of life being as perfect as one makes it — as well as finding solace in those terrific choices, and discovering that escape is just as easily realized walking away single-handed than bounding forward holding hands.

05 Frozen River
06 Snow Angels (2007)
07 Ils (2006)
08 Let The Right One In (Låt den rätte komma in)
09 The Strangers (2008)
10 Be Kind, Rewind
11 Wall•E
12 Tell No One (Ne le dis à personne, 2006)

Merry Christmas everyone!

Here are my Top 5 Xmas songs/video links. Gotta like some of these classics.

#. Carol Of The Bells by Trans Siberian Orchestra (Choral version, MTC)


#. Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes


#. Winter Wonderland by Johnny Mathis


#. All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey (whew)




#. Blue Christmas by Elvis Presley (sort of cheesy and dated, really)


Happy Holidays, all!

"Live" in my iTunes: Best of the live recordings.

+ The Beatles' Can't Buy Me Love live at The Hollywood Bowl August 30, 1965

The crowd's reaction throughout this entire track conveys the fever which Beatles-mania elicited when they broke on the scene in the United States. Insofar as this recording goes, and amazingly enough, it seems twelve years of on/off again production was necessary to perfect the audio and give birth to a recording worthy of release. Who knew.



+ The White Stripes covering Bob Dylan's One More Cup of Coffee

In the city of Detroit, in July of 1998, Jack and Meg took to an unnamed stage and produced what is widely considered to be the first live recording of The White Stripes in existence. Not to disparage them, but I think if I had been watching this duo at The Turf Club or The Uptown (a couple of local stages), truth be told, I may have walked out. I like to think I've grown a bit since then.



+ Not three months after Queens of the Stone Age released the instant classic Songs For The Deaf was released onto the public, Josh Homme and Co. dropped in on Bern, Switzerland to play a "secret" acoustic show for a select crowd lucky enough to squeeze into the venue. One track of note, Go with the Flow (the 4th song of performed — the 8th on the album) already has the force and passion usually reserved for mid-tour dates. I've heard local artists (punk, rock, and folk alike) whose impromptu acoustic sets blow away most "normal" performances. If you're a fan of the genre, this is one set you must hear.



+ Britney Spears' ...Baby One More Time acoustically performed as 'Hit Me Baby One More Time' by Travis. One of the cleanest and funniest versions of this song ever done — that includes Blink 182's, and Tori Amos' version. The crowd reacts appropriately to what is a genuine cover attempt. No joke, this works!



+ During Good Riddance's final live show (final performance ever, in actuality) they dperform "Without Anger" with such force you'd think they were playing for their very existence...and in a way they are. Here they're eulogizing, in a sense. But this is of their choosing, and the show is one for the record books. Fat Wreck recorded and released the 2007 show on limited edition (1100 copies), hand-numbered, 2x colored wax this year.




+ Lagwagon's Live At A Dive release gave us a killer, sped up version of "Razor Burn" that is both hilarious and truist. Lyrics:

"Here's another little sing-along for you all,
this goes out to all the people who just quit shaving. I think
you know what I'm talkin' about."

She broke up with me two days later
I think she met Don Juan in Italy
She has a new man, I have a new mustache
Now all my friends are gonna call me 'mountain man'
And everyone will think that I'm a stupid drifter
I'll walk the earth alone, and never shave again
On the night she left me, facial hair grew miraculously
I dressed in black like Johnny Cash and grew this beard of shame
I've heard it said she looks a lot like Sherilyn Fenn
And sometimes I'm mistaken for, Billy Gibbons
I may appear wise, but I'm an idiot
It's over, she left me, and she will soon forget me
She found out I was lame, I grew a beard of shame
'sing it Hollywood!'
Come all ye faithful, joyful and triumphant
I am a new man, I have a beard of shame

+ A list wouldn't be complete without a Me First And The Gimme Gimmes track, and Blondie's "Heart Of Glass" will do just fine. Performed live at "little" Jonny Wixen's bar mitzvah, a sauced punk super group and a room full of skeptical parents (you should see the pics/video snippets) make for an unforgettable experience for both audience and listener. And do not all Blondie songs make for awesome punk covers anyway?



+ Kreator's 2003 live album, a meld of stadium shows in Sao Paolo and Seoul, South Korea, has proven that the faint remembrance of the band's mojo for the MTV release/video for Betrayer (when MTV was a music channel...ugh) wasn't a fluke and Kreator hasn't lost a single beat since. Speed and precision are their modus operandi, and they deliver. I've heard a majority of the 2-disc work, and even as it does get a bit stale, taken one track at a time it can't miss.




+ Before Sessions At West 54th went off the air, I had the opportunity to catch Tom Waits' Nighthawks At The Diner almost in its entirety during a special hour-long edition which featured much of the originally un-aired portions. Waits has a gigantic following in Minneapolis, which is maybe the reason for the full show (and multiple airings, as I discovered). From Intros 1 & 2, to Eggs And Sausage In A Cadillac With Susan Michelson, and the witty Emotional Weather Report, this is a soulful romp that's good for a listen, in full or on occasion; whether it's at home on the stereo or during a 4 1/2 hour drive to the Minnesota-Canadian border.




+ And finally, nearing the height of his power, Mason Jennings recorded a solo acoustic version of Rebecca DeVille at the studios of KUOM for Stuck On AM 2 (from the wildly popular Stuck On AM series) and subsequently cemented the release as king of the series, with a little help from Buffalo Daughter, Lifter Puller, and yet "blown up" Minneapolis urban troubadours Eyedea and Atmosphere. But the addition of Mason's epic was the keystone to a highly successful album to be sure, and it received generous airplay on Radio K.

Quantum of Solace: The 22nd Bond

Bond and Vesper in a 'warm' embrace.

I don't quite understand the criticisms that Quantum of Solace isn't Bond enough; on the contrary, it's more Bond than Bond. Let us see for ourselves: awesome cars you would sell your mother to own, — Check. Intense car and foot chases, — Check. Exotic locales, both salacious and bad-ass ladies, — Check and Check.

In this installment we return to a more worldly and manly 007 (read: more Connery than Brosnan), as well as a return to the Cold War type of plot which splits retarded and apropos right down the middle. Unlike the pure cartoon of yesterday's Bond. Throw in a borderline ridiculous über-villian bent on some sort of diabolical master plan ad one couldn't ask for anything more! The contention that this installment's lack of "gadgets" makes it any less enjoyable is a farce. Seriously, the gadget thing has been nearly exhausted.

That being said, a noticeable amount of the realism that Martin Campbell brought to 2006's Casino Royale disappeared with this, Marc Forster's installment. Sure Royale featured borderline unreal action, but Solace's brand of action comes across far too transparent. And its abrupt style seemed to call for spinning Batman-like logos between scenes. I hate to pile on, but this is mid-tier Bond all the way down to the unbalanced title track courtesy Jack White w/Alicia Keys. Oh it's cool, just not as charming as a Bond theme should be. Sue me.

So to sum it all up, yes indeed critics, this is quintessential Bond. In the case of this installment: if only it were slightly more.

The Legend of God's Gun (2007)

Four criminals are wanted dead or alive, the chase is on and a dopey bounty hunter has dollar signs in his eyes when he catches up to the now horseless band near the town of Playa Diablo, an 1880's ghost town in the making, helmed by a corrupt sheriff (writer/director Mike Bruce) and his libertine (and hot) wife make way when a Man With No Name-ish vengeful preacher and a prosaic psycho-outlaw named El Sobero (played by the other mastermind behind this grinding, acid-colored Western, Kirpatrick Thomas) cross paths in the midst of town.

The Legend of God's Gun, known by its creators as "gravel grindhouse", is ultimately a film nearly anyone with imagination and several friends could make, and that's why it kicks so much ass, but you'd be hard-pressed to come close to this one-of-a-kind, three-years-in-the-making homage to the Spaghetti Western. That being said, the bad news is God's Gun is erratic and masturbatory even as the story is always moving forward (one minor flashback aside); I recall a 4-minute "movie" from high school A/V which we thought was the next Deer Hunter... Reality check. Back to God's Gun, some of the film noise gets out of hand in the early scenes, and maybe the strongest criticism of all, at 80 minutes it might be 20 minutes too long. However, it's loaded with solid music (Thomas' band Spindrift appeared on another grind house film's soundtrack, namely Hell Ride.) and supports the pace well and is a perfect accompaniment to the many showdown scenes, culminating with Gram Rabbit's "Devil's Playground" played over the end credits, with video!

Catching up: Four films which couldn't be more different.

Salo, or The 120 Days of Sodom - All I care to say about the vaunted film, simply known as Salò, is that director Pier Paolo Pasolini seems to relish in this, his sadistic, grotesque swan song — it's paced like he wishes us to savor what he made while he smugly watches from the periphery. It's also at least thirty minutes too long. Disgusting and illicit to the core, yet ultimately boring. Decide for yourself.

Blood Simple - A recommendation from a supplier to where I work. The Coens' simplistic cheatin' tale isn't always logical (one major gaff took me completely out of the movie for some moments) but it does own that parable-like signature that the tandem perfected and employed on No Country For Old Men some 20 years later. And in typical neo-noir fashion, it plays a tad on the surreal side to its benefit.

Shiver (Eskalofrío) - Director Isidro Ortiz of Fausto 5.0 fame (a film I thoroughly liked), has made a well-produced movie that is being sold as a combo-platter of The Orphanage meets The Devil's Backbone (if memory serves...I dropped the dvd off already) and it doesn't really disappoint if that's the guide you follow. As I think about it, it's almost a 50/50 split of the two with its own flavor sprinkled atop. Good, not great.

Snow Angels - Not only does it remind me, to some extent, of my own early small town existence (not entirely rural, mind you), but Snow Angels goes beyond simple comfort to tell a devastating story firmly rooted to the human experience. Though the film approaches the melodramatic fringe at a couple points, all is not lost as the swift retreat brings on the uncompromising emotions surrounding life and loss. Now it is a film from 2007, but don't be surprised if it finds its way onto my 2008 Best Of list.

Where is the "Saw" I used to love?

So David Hackl moves to the big chair for Saw V and proceeds to produce a plodding interruption in a series that appeared to be gaining strength; a real disservice. What we got was a warming–over of established plot points (in spades) and incoherent "trials" that did little to build on the respective momentum that the underrated Saw III and Saw IV began — Saw IV, easily the strongest installment since the original so many Halloweens ago. What, I ask, were we to take away from part V in terms of story advancement?

Maybe this is that inevitable episode in a horror series where enough key characters have either been killed off or have simply abandoned the series so that it becomes a different beast on its face. Yes, there are a couple of holdovers mixed among the fresh faces: Jigsaw's apprentice Amanda (Shawnee Smith) and obsessed FBI agent Hoffman (Costas Mandylor) anchor the episode, but these two characters seem to function on a different plane here. They toil in a vacuum of flashbacks and near misses for a majority of the film's 90 minutes, while a band of moral midgets are set to be delivered. Among these fated newcomers is Dexter co-star Julie Benz,  but her staggered contribution and questionable fate makes me wonder why producers insisted on a recognizable actress at all. All for the best, I guess, yet she should be coaxed to return in order to return a semblance of depth and progress to the series. In any event, I cannot imagine the series concludes on this sour of a note.

Saw 5 promotional poster

Bob Le Flambeur (1956)

Bob Le Flambeur ("Bob the Gambler" or "Bob the High Roller") tells the tale of a life-long gambler who has his ups & downs (more "downs" as of late) with the cards, but keeps as steady a pace as his modest means can afford him. He lives in a semi-posh neighborhood in Paris, but spends a majority of his time ducking in and out of small card clubs and dive bars to catch his next gamble. Bob is also a mentor to a younger, hipper guy named Paulo who aims to be Bob personified. Bob's (and everyone's) troubles begin when he befriends Anne, a fresh-faced street-walker, who takes Bob for just another well-off guy who wants to lavish the young Lolita with gifts for sex, but is genuinely curious about her motivations in life.

The whole relationship (if you could call it one) is very light and platonic, with Bob giving her a place to stay (she had just been hopping from bed to bed) while he stays out all day gambling. He introduces Anne to Paulo and he falls for her, of course. She could care less about who she's with as long as they spoil her, but Paulo is young and foolish and confides in her one night in bed about a fantastic heist Bob has planned on a regional casino, despite Bob's friendly warning.The next night, Anne has too much to drink and relays Paulo's bombastic promise to spoil her after the heist to a local pimp named Marc she's about to sleep with. Marc's plan to utilize his strong pimp hand on Anne is put on the back burner, as he needs to give this new-found information to the police in order to keep himself out of jail for beating up his own wife (who he's also pimping out). Everything falls on one long night, laying in wait to pull the heist.

Although Bob Le Flambeur isn't as gripping as the aforementioned heist films, it does paint a brilliant picture. Bob's quid pro quo with Inspector Ledru could very well be the inspiration for the modern heist classic Heat's DeNiro-Pacino tête-à-tête. And Criterion sure makes a damn fine looking DVD.

I have some catching up to do in the 'review' department.

Morvern Callar

Transsiberian (director Brad Anderson) didn't quite captivate as a thriller/mystery adventure; I tried to believe what I was seeing but it all seemed a bit superficial in the character department. I expected Anderson at some point to pick whether he wanted the plot to drive the film or allow the distinguishable cast to dictate the action — his indecision, or bullish intentions, left Transsiberian somewhere in between Christopher Nolan's Insomnia (which I liked) and Alfred Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train (which put me to sleep).

Greenhorn filmmaker Courtney Hunt, on the other hand, spins an engrossing yarn with Frozen River's confluence of single-parent family issues, immigration, human trafficking, isolation (small town life, segregation, borders, personal footing, and more) that although it's meant to give auds something to think on, is more soft-thriller than finger-waving drama. Melissa Leo, in a role not so far removed from her Marianne Jordan character in 2003's 21 Grams, is an outright force. Almost co-star Misty Upham plays a bingo greeter turned human smuggler who smoothly ropes Leo's character into assisting on a "run" across the US/Canadian border. This is definitely Leo's film, yet each and every role is a concrete as the one it succeeds. Could be the freshness of the direction that facilitates this sense, but I couldn't imagine that as a flaw.

Watched Lolita '62 & '97 (Stanley Kubrick and Adrian Lyne respectively) and was bored stupid for nearly 5 hours. Kubrick's Lolita has an air of respectability due to its play-like execution and the fact it doesn't revel in letting auds watch a grown man having a twelve year old for 2+ hours — a world of difference between the two films. Dominique Swain was actually 15, if it matters - Sue Lyon was 16. As an aside, both Lolitas suffered a professional curse of sorts for their troubles. Reading a few chapters into the Nabokov source material some time ago had me thinking this, not Burroughs’ much referenced Naked Lunch, should elicit conversations of unfilmability. I think Lolita's motivations would have made for a superior essay for what it's worth. Anyway, read the book, if you're so inclined.

I revisited What's Eating Gilbert Grape (Lasse Hallström, 1993) a few weeks ago and continue to be blown away by the Becky character. Juliette Lewis manifests one of the most refreshing and prudent, yet wholly empathetic, characters in all of film.

A movie I pulled from Scott Tobias' 'New Cult Canon', Morvern Callar, was a genuine surprise despite its morose first third act. A pre-Precog Samantha Morton is poised to shed the yoke and boredom of small town life upon her boyfriend's Christmas Day suicide with the aid of his recently finished novel and explicit directions to shop the book to a prepared list of publishers. She chooses to hide the suicide from everybody, including her very best friend Lana, while she attempts to rationalize the suicide — from the latter to maintain the friendship. She moves ahead with her boyfriend's wishes, all the while moving on with the next part of her life. This movie has a River's Edge meets The Ice Storm temperament that I like - grounded and sober, almost stark, and unavoidable despite their contents.

Alive (2002)

Alive begins an prisoner Tenshu Yashiro (Hideo Sakaki; Battlefield Baseball, Versus) is led into a vaulted room where 3 men stand watch from an observation window high above a massive electric chair. Tenshu is about to die for murdering a group of men that raped his girlfriend, and also for ultimately murdering her. After he's locked into the chair and the voltage courses through his body, the two guards who led him in unlock the restraints and Tenshu opens his eyes. The director of this "prison facility", Kojima (Jun Kunimura; Vital, Audition, Ichi The Killer) informs him that he's been selected to participate in an experiment of sorts. He agrees and later awakens in an observation room with another "saved" prisoner named Matsuda (Shun Sugata); who's entire life has been a felony. Both are treated like royalty for several days. They're treated to wine & steak dinners, trendy clothing and for Matsuda, gallons of alcohol. All the while, a heard, but yet unseen group have been subtly (and not so subtly) manipulating the room's environment to prepare the inmates to a larger stimuli. After several more days of behavioral testing, with the two nearly killing each other at various points, a large door opens at the far end of the room and an attractive woman stands alone behind a thick, transparent wall. She explains to the men that she's a witch and, to Matsuda in particular, that if one kills the other, he can enter her room. Do the math. What the two prisoners don't know is that the prison is using them as bait to coax a mysterious force called "Isomer" from the woman. The movie progresses into a battle between the group conducting the experiments, the prisoners, the woman, and an outside government agency interested in capturing the "Isomer" for more nefarious purposes.

Kudos to director Ryuhei Kitamura (Versus, Azumi) for his tight, controlled portrayal of part of Tsutomu Takahashi manga series Sky High. I haven't read or seen said manga, but it's apparent that Kitamura had the original work in mind at all times. Highly stylized costumes, action that's purposely and abruptly stopped in careful poses, perfect symmetry in nearly every frame, and deliberate lighting. Hallmarks of the craft. For me, I still prefer the anime cyberpunk to the live-action kind, if any. Alive's themes will be familiar to those who have seen greater works on the arrogance of man or man's folly or attempts to manipulate nature such as Akira and Ghost In The Shell. In the end, Alive neither reaches the same level of intensity nor employs the same kind of vision the others do. It's just too obtuse, to be honest.

Alive is (needlessly?) broken up by chapter markers, such as "Day 3", "Day 9", "The Confrontation", "The Edge", and "Isomer", (to name a few) and takes place almost entirely in a bleak, industrial facility. Watching did became a bit tiresome. Dull and dark, blues, grays and blacks dominate the scenery. Bolster that backdrop with an almost constant techno-ish soundtrack pulsing in the background (at varying volumes) and the ambiance began to wear on me, if not border on annoying. But again, fans of the style with completely get off on those qualities. That's just my take. The final third, as Tenshu nears his fate, is filled with decent special effects, but falls flat with mediocre fight scenes and long-winded explanations of the plot. In fact, Kitamura utilizes these diatribes (almost exclusively) to further a story that would otherwise be too ridiculous or confusing to perpetuate itself. Alive's attraction will ultimately be it's Matrix-esque effects and posturing, outmoded kung-fu action but certainly not it's supposed take on a nihilistic future. For a true dystopian fix, try Blade Runner, Chiaki Konaka's Serial Experiments: Lain, or page thru a book of H. R. Giger's artwork while Godflesh's "Streetcleaner" fills your ears.

Another thing that really bugged me about the entire production was the lack of effort (besides the special effects) that seemed to go into Alive. For the level of quality, there was an endless supply of bonus material on the DVD (2-disc) and the subtitles appeared to have been tacked on as an afterthought. The subtitle thing bothered me the most, as the pacing was way off. Sloppy work indeed. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't be surprised to find that a third party handled them. A brief scene or two on relationships and the power of forgiveness also seem out of place, and carries all the conviction of a cheesy telenovela.

Alice (Neco z Alenky, 1988)

Needless to say, Guillermo del Toro's El Laberinto del Fauno doesn't quite corner the market when it comes to adolescent escapism; it's simply the latest of such films which portray (usually little girls, for some reason) retreating into their own mind to escape some unpleasantness in reality. One might think of this as a sort of daydream? In any event, a tale which predates Pan's Labyrinth by some 140 years sparked the creative genius of surrealist Czech filmmaker Jan Svankmajer in the form of 1988's Alice, a retelling of Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

Svankmajer utilizes, bear with me, a mixture of live action and stop-motion animation to spin the sometimes bizarre interpretation. Alice's adventure begins in an innocently enough scene where Alice (played by one-and-done dough-eyed actress Kristýna Kohoutová) is throwing stones into a pond while sitting beside her mother, who reads from a large, untitled book. The tone turns suspicious when Alice is slapped for fondling the pages of said book and she (and we) are transported to Alice's room where she sits beside two dolls while tossing pebbles into a cup & saucer of tea; a taxidermy white rabbit in the corner of her room is brought to life. The chase begins.

Interpretations of Svankmajer's visionary redux span the gamut; from a child's response to severe discipline (scenes of continuously locked doors culminate in Alice being shut in her home's pantry and the King & Queen of Hearts demanding an confectionery confession at Alice's trial), to the phantasmagorical decor Alice resides in predisposing her to fantastic fantasies. A product of her environment, per se. All of this can be put aside, of course, and it can be enjoyed a skillfully organic vision. Be relieved that most of the iconic characters are included in one form or another. Most note-worthy, a symbiosis between character-puppets Mad Hatter and Doormouse, who shift from chair to chair in order to make use of a "clean cup", of which is eventually licked clean again by a fox pelt. And that's a hundredth of Alice's treats! Camilla Power provides the minimal English voice-over work. A must see.

The Eel (Unagi, 1997)

One of my favorite actors is Koji Yakusho. He has a way of melting into his characters and becoming them in a very basic, natural manner. I hadn't realized he was in Unagi, (or had forgotten), so I was pleasantly surprised to witness another brilliant yet subdued performance on his part. Brilliant in 1997's Cure, acclaimed for his role in 1999's Charisma, 2000's Korei, his brief appearance in 2001's horror masterpiece Kairo, a Jeremy Irons-like duplicitous role in 2003's Doppelganger, his resume is one of the best. This was the first non-horror film I've seen of his. In Unagi, he plays Takuro, a white-collar salaryman who works in the city and resides in a small countryside village with his beautiful wife named Emiko. He has a long commute to and from his job and a seemingly dull or uneventful job (although we only get a minimal glimpse of it at the very beginning of the film). On a regular basis, he joins friends, acquaintances and perhaps colleagues to fish the sea on a pier outside of the close-knit village.

Takuro squeezes onto the same train everyday, probably in the same car... well, you get the idea of a regimented lifestyle, but one Takuro seems to willingly get by with. One particular day on the trip home, he pulls an anonymous note from his pocket and reads that his wife has been having an affair, usually whilst he is fishing. I wondered why the movie didn't set the affair to coincide with him being at work, but it makes more sense when you see it. He makes his walk down the narrow road to his home and greets his smiling wife. He ditches his suit , accepts a prepared, boxed dinner (lovingly wrapped) and leaves per usual for much fishing. It's eerie to hear Emiko ask "How long will you be gone?" as a viewer because we obviously know what's happening. Takuro doesn't miss a beat and responds that he'll 'be gone as long as usual'. Takuro spends a shorter time at the pier tan usual and bids the others farewell. On the way, he reminisces about the anonymous note; it also mentions what type and color the man arrived in. When he arrives to his home, he does find a white sedan parked and half-covered with brush next to the house. He sneaks around the house to a window and peeks through the window. What follows is the reason he's sent to prison, where (at another unknown point) he catches and begins to confide in an eel (he's lost all trust in people) which he keeps in a prison fountain with help from a few guards. The guards allow him to keep the eel when his parole officer assumes custody of Takuro upon his release. Takuro begins to reestablish himself by purchasing a rundown barber shop in a tiny coastal town full of interesting characters and soon a mysterious woman enters the town. She brings a mix of disruption, controversy and maybe hope to the residents of the small coastal town and Takuro himself.

To Unagi's benefit (or not), the story is told with an array of styles. It doesn't stray form it's intention to take Takuros plight seriously, but at times, it seemed to go off on a tangent concerning other characters. I believe this was detrimental to bringing Takuro's redemption to fruition. I'm not saying that developing the other characters is a mistake, I'm just saying that in this case it worked against a complete resolution. Hell, for all I know, that could of been the objective all along; for the ending to remain open-ended and unresolved fully. With characters like Akira Emoto's character Tamotsu (Maborosi, Doppelganger) as Takuro's level-headed, wise, father figure-type new friend, could conceivably live on past the ending. The film as a whole has that sort of natural feel to it and an uncanny sense of taking place in two different eras. Add a touch of hilarity now and then to ease the dramatic air and this turns out to be a surprisingly great movie.

Piano Man (1996)

Boy, how do you say "train wreck" in Korean? What began with the makings of a good detective thriller, turned sour on a dime within the first half-hour of the movie. Piano Man begins with detectives ducking in & out of the inky folds of a rain-soaked night. They gather, under a canopy of umbrellas, beside a makeshift grave in a vacant gravel pit to study a horribly disfigured corpse. The detectives argue about who will take the lead in the case and whether or not they should wait for the forensics team, shouting at one another for their general incompetence or for ignoring the benefits a parallel investigation with the other departments will have for the case in hand. (Chaos during an investigation being a reoccurring theme in Korean Detective Thrillers.) When the body arrives at the morgue, the detectives discover that the killer left very little in the way of clues by scalding the face, yanking any dental work, skinning the fingertips and last but not least, stitching the victim's eyelids to it's forehead so they could watch! The investigation seemingly abandons any effort to I.D. the body and turns to a small, elegant, toy player-piano shoved into the chest cavity, where the heart had been ripped out. The killer initiates contact with one Detective Mi-ran (Seung-yeon Lee; eight years before starring in 3-Iron) to, for whatever reason, give her clues to help catch him. She receives that victim's heart wrapped as a gift, with a short note simply signed "PM". Yep, you guessed it; Piano Man. The lead on the case, Detective Yang, joins forces with Mi-ran on the case. But he has to battle his wanna-be detective son Jin-woo's interest, nay fascination with the case, his own alcoholism and a younger crop of detectives that balk at Yang's "old world" techniques.

The best way to describe Piano Man is as a crashing bore. The momentum and intrigue those first few scenes built came crumbling down due to mind-numbingly long scenes of little importance. For example, a 25 minute scene concerning the killer's method of procuring black-market license plates. Whatever momentum it managed to recoup, dissolved away again by similar inane, superfluous story-lines. The most egregious error of the movie is the fact that we're given Piano Man's (Min-su Choi) identity within that first half-hour. We then sit through two long, painful lounge acts from a character that comes from nowhere and goes nowhere, and to top it off, she's accompanied by the killer on piano, but, as I've already pointed out, by now we know he's the killer. I also can't not mention Piano Man's sudden, inexplicable obsession with Billie Holiday, or obvious plot/set similarities with the story of The Phantom Of The Opera. But in the end, the less we knew about his motivations, the better it would have been. Sadly, his all to hackneyed motivations come into play later on in the film, which is yet another lesson in tedium. But even then, as he continues to keep Detective Mi-ran informed of his "work", those motivations are completely abandoned for wildly inconsistent or at the very least, unconvincing ones. Called a "mildly entertaining time-waster" in another review, Piano Man I'll agree, is just that.

Besides the very opening scenes, there's quite honestly very little to be positive about here. Yu's message concerning police ineffectiveness is a competent, well worn one. He also takes a Freudian look at parent-child relationships early on in the film and comes back to it later, which does add a touch of credibility to the movie as a whole. I'd recommend skipping Piano Man altogether and tracking down infinitely better Korean crime-thrillers such as Tell Me Something and Memories Of Murder.

Noriko's Dinner Table (Noriko no Shokutaku, 2005)

Sion Sono's 2½ hour tour-de-force follow-up to Suicide Circle (Club), Noriko's Dinner Table, might be a touch overwrought at times but I think every ounce is completely necessary for what Sono intends to accomplish. Both bracketing and running concurrent the events in Suicide Circle, Dinner Table (a story that nearly defies a written portrayal), is about 17 year–old Noriko Shimabara finding solice from her tired, small town home/existence in Haikyo.com's community forums as poster "Mitsuko", culminating in her running away from home in the midst of an electrical blackout; opportunity arrives in many forms. Noriko meets with forum mod Ueno54, a.k.a Kumiko, and without a place to go, is adopted into her family. As her storyline progresses, Sono then turns to Noriko's sister Yuka Shimabara's attempts to rationalize and discover the whys of Noriko's departure, which leads her to Tokyo as well. Maybe for the same reasons. Sono then turns to their father, then Kumiko for two more facets.

I've been vague not only because it would require spoilers (although I could argue there are no spoilers) but the film is told from different perspectives and gets a bit meta, lending to lengthy connections and reasons/motivations for everything that happens to the girls and their parents. Midnight Eye's review doesn't even attempt to parse the film; Mandiapple gives it a go. I'm doing this over lunch, at work, so time is an issue for me. In the end, I'm thoroughly satisfied with both it's originality and the connections with Suicide Circle. Yet, this is more a film among itself; think Miike's Black Society Trilogy.

I had reservations about the amount of Noriko's (sometimes third-person; unreliable?) voice-over narration, there's a lot, but those were allayed as Sono carried the essential narration into the other characters' contributions. Sono packs a hell of a lot into this film, including a few, not false mind you, semi-conclusions that honestly deepen his story with each progression. I dare say this could be Sono's masterpiece. We'll see.

You wanna know how I got these scars?

Not being a comic book fan has its advantages, but when it came to Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight I've come to think it wouldn't have hurt to have been privy to some back-story. Then again the brilliance of Nolan's Kierkegaardian passage in the Batman Series is in its perceived contemporary tenets; rather, from what I'm told, the movie's deviation from source. I don't find fault here for obvious reasons. Dark Knight comes off a bit skittish, as if a dose of pedestrian might shatter the film's surface tension (it's no No Country), but once again it is comic book material. Where I soaked in every gallon of this movie can be found expressly in the wherewithal of Christian Bale, Heath Ledger (his first film called "Clowning Around"...you have to be kidding me), Aaron Eckhart, Gary Oldman, et al (peripheral characters included; with the possible exception of an ill-cast Maggie Gyllenhaal) insomuch as their respective gravities influence rather than dominate. Kudos to Nolan regular John Papsidera. A cast this good (and scrapped content?) might have warranted a run time closer to 3-hours. I'm thinking the next episode will be Joker-free... How could they...?

Other films have successfully posited the as bad as bad can get themes (J'ai pas sommeil/I Can't Sleep being the first that I thought of; and the aforementioned 'No Country') with a search for peace and/or escape, but none so mainstream, none so forceful (maybe a tad transparent), and none as controversial as The Dark Knight is turning out to be. For laypeople and aficionados alike. And this is where I saw it, btw.

A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)

Without putting the adaptation into historical context, (because I haven't researched the movie's history or the play itself), I have to say A Streetcar Named Desire seems one of the most realistic and honest acted (by all involved) films around. Brando himself seems to disappear into the role of the down-to-earth Stanley. Stanley and Stella make the quintessential Orleanian couple, for their time, as they live foot-loose but deeply in love with each other, and they know each of the other is the only one for them. They quarrel now & again but the fights are usually either rooted in fun or serve as foreplay. Things change for them when Stella's hoity-toity sister Blanche shows herself and begins living with the couple.

Stanley clearly doesn't enjoy Blanche's elitist attitude and how it's beginning to rub off on Stella; or maybe more precisely awaken Stella as she may have been before her time with Stanely. It would be interesting to know the time when Stanley and Stella met. I can imagine Stella being just as aggravated if one of Stanley's relatives suddenly began staying in the apartment with no prospects and no plan to leave anytime soon, but in this case, Stanley is at his wits end when Blanche's story (of the past several years before showing up) doesn't check out and Stanley exposes Blanche's past. Let's just say it's a sorted past and whatever the road she traveled to get to the point where she hopped from hotel to motel, depending on the kindness of strangers , she's a bit used and a little lost in the mind to say the least.

We do know some of her story about Stella leaving Blanche in a troubled situation at home as kids for New Orleans, but it comes off as patronizing Stella and more than a little selfish...the very thing Blanche believes of Stella! As a matter of fact, I can identify with Stella somewhat in that respect. Blanche meets a would-be gentleman and the entire situation blows up in many areas; with Stella & Stanley, Stella & Blanche, Stanley & Mitch, Blanche & Mitch...it's a regular royal rumble of sorts. Throw in some card playing buddies and a close-knit, cheeky neighborhood and 'Streetcar' stands as maybe the best adaptation from a play out there (with Glengarry Glen Ross way up there also).

Wall-E & Hancock (2008)

Had the chance to see Wall·E (director Andrew Stanton) this weekend, and I acted. Wall·E is one of probably thousands of trash-compacting bots bent on rearranging a planet choked of post-consumer flotsam and jetsam for Man's eventual (or supposed) return from 700 years of planetary exile; so choked is the plant, that not a single organic remains on the surface. We've all seen the trailers, so I'll keep this brief. The storyline itself is fairly simple, honest, and loaded with that special type of Disney iconography and unobtrusive symbolism; i.e. when the first specimen of organic life is discovered by EVE (or ee-vuh, as Wall·E pronounces it), it's held inside EVE's stomach, then, a light is produced at the left-chest. Like I said, it's a straightforward movie. Never mind the comparisons to E.T., I guess. Mix in some Playskool environmentalism and a few gags on human detachment and rife obesity and there we have it. It's been said a thousand times that the animation is amazing, but especially incredible is the opening Earth scenes, about the first 20 minutes; the remainder wears more cartoonish. The only other thing, and it is a petty criticism, is the Dislovian dialogue (Disney + Pavlovian, if you'll indulge me) between the two bots which is nothing but repetitive waahl-ee's and ee-vuuh's sprinkled with emotion. I wouldn't say it irritating, but a hundred times later it approached my tolerance level. I genuinely expected the many children in the theater to begin parroting at any moment. To my surprise not a single one did.

Also saw Will Smith, Charlize Theron, Jason Bateman, et al in Peter Berg's Hancock but I have no real thoughts on this one, probably because it's terrible. I'll simply paraphrase a chunk of my Paradise Villa (Park Jong Won, '02) review from nearly 3 years ago to the day:

The main problem is that it's just there. It takes itself too seriously to be considered a comedy; too dry to be camp (where it might have had a fighting chance); too base to be considered drama. It just doesn't have a home, so I was left detached and unconvinced in any case.

Had a great 4th of July extended weekend. Lots of fireworks, a few adult beverages, a bit of grilling, perfect weather; couldn't ask for more. Hope everyone did the same

301, 302 (aka 301/302, 1995)

301, 302 begins as a Columbo-esque detective knocks on a lovely woman's door. Why is he there? Because the woman in Apartment 301 was, presumably, the last person to see her neighbor alive. He asks several questions about who her neighbor, in Apartment 302, is and how she, "301", came to know "302". Naturally, as a new resident of the building, she doesn't really know anyone in the building at all. Naturally.

The woman in Apartment 302 is sort of a recluse, in a sense. She goes about her business, but seems, for all intensive purposes, to prefer the confines of her home. "302" is a lithe, almost gaunt, creature in her mid-30's who writes for a living. "301" (Eun-jin Bang) has only just moved into the space across the hall from "302" and immediately began renovating the smallish apartment to suit her immense love of cooking. Much to the chagrin of "302", who get to put up with the noise of reconstruction. Soon after, "301" invites herself into her new neighbor's apartment to become friend's and to share with her some fine cooking. "301" becomes tremendously adventurous with her cooking when she realizes that "302" (Sin-Hye Hwang) refuses even the simplest of dishes, and flat out refuses to eat dishes containing meat. "301" figures she can help her neighbor out with that. She disguises meals in order to trick "302" into eating some pretty exotic stuff, but only after some brief unpleasantness. Both woman soon become friendly with one another and quickly feel compelled to share stories of brutal childhoods and passionless marriages.

"301" also speculates (while talking with the detective as they both browse around "302"'s apartment) that "302" is sexually repressed because she won't enjoy the great food she cooks and brings her. This is mainly because "301" admittedly places her passion for the culinary arts and her carnal passions in the same category; which she does consciously and is partly the reason she is where she is. "302" dismisses that, but goes on to tell her story of a traumatic childhood that may shed light on the problem "301" desperately wants to remedy using food.

301/302 isn't exactly a thriller, as billed. Made in 1994 or '95 or'96 (depending on where you look), it probably shocked it's share of viewers. There are a few pretty graphic sex scenes (some tasteful; some not) and some brilliantly shot cooking scenes. The camera gets right in the pots and pans, blenders and colanders. It also gets mighty close to the people's mouths, at a few points, to graphically illustrate "301"'s succulent eats being enjoyed. A major theme I came away with was that a woman (like "301", for instance) shouldn't be taken for granted. Part of "301"'s story, as told to "302" through several well done flashback sequences, is how the life and passions of her marriage were wasted on an ungrateful, selfish husband. But that's not all of her story. The middle third is. almost exclusively. a brilliant and moving account of "301"'s trials and tribulations that surround her cooking; along how it mirrors and, at times, commands her life.

Along with all of this, there's humor (albeit black) sprinkled in to set up the movie's touted ending; which some may see coming fairly early. That shouldn't take away from a well written film. I suspect 301, 302 is a hidden gem that many have either overlooked or have never came across. I highly recommend it, in any case.

Drag Me to Hell (2009)

A cash out refi would have solved a lot of problems here.

The first impression Drag Me to Hell made on me was that this could be the the most creative horror film in quite some time, let alone stateside horror — the second was that there is some sinister groundwork behind the Raimi Bros' (Sam Raimi and Ivan Raimi) screenplay. I'm not talking about the demonic character called Lamia, or the crazy seance, or even the curse itself, I'm talking about the Christine character and her specific personal tribulations. Sure, in all likelihood the story is just a wild throwback to late 70s/early 80s cult horror like Phantasm, Psychomania, and House — or even earlier thrillers such as The Horror of Party Beach; but strip away the sizzling effects and colorful dialogue, and buried somewhere inside is some ominous kernel that set this script in motion.

The basis of Drag Me to Hell is as confounding as any that have ever propelled a film; a public shaming. To wit: an Eastern European gypsy (is there any other) is reduced to begging upstart mortgage officer Christine Brown (Alison Lohman) for a third, or was it a fourth, extension on her home loan — but with the pressures of the market and Christine currently angling for the newly vacant managerial desk, she regrettably denies the extension. Now enraged from having to humiliate herself, Sylvia The Georgian Gypsy Ganush becomes unhinged, launching into not so veiled threats which lead to Ganush ambushing Christine in the bank's parking garage — culminate in Grandmother Ganush placing a curse on Christine.

The mortgage device is as ham-handed as it is relevant, but more importantly it is just innocuous and pervasive enough to pass as passing motivation without a second thought. The remainder touches on every canon in B-horror film-dom, giving us everything from possessed handkerchief and a possessed dessert to foul-mouthed goat and the very act of being physically pulled directly into hell somehow all comes off as worthy.

As for the underlying nature of Drag Me, I' m sure that the Christine Brown arc is rooted in reality's soils — if only so much as to be based on the generic small town girl in the big city character, with a less-than desirable experiences abound. But all human tragedy and supposition aside, Raimi's film is most definitely a breath of fresh air for American comedy-horror, and for any fan who craves an accessible and excitable theater experience.

Kadokawa Mystery & Horror Tales Volume 2 (2005)

Kadokawa Mystery & Horror Tales Volume 2 (2003) features three more short films from Global Fright Cinema and Kadokawa Pictures.

I have to admit, this installment in the Kadokawa series is somewhat better, and dare I say more intriguing than the previous volume. Could it be due to a larger budget? Or a superior effort in the writing department? I'd say the latter, for the most part. Stronger premises, unique twists, along with tried and true elements that are used to bring the stories as a whole together. Director Sato Takayuki makes his debut in the series (Last Day as a Teenager & Regeneration). Kenji Nakanishi makes a valiant return form Volume 1 (Desire To Kill) to direct Wooden Clogs With The Red Straps, which is my favorite of these three. The look remains low-budget indeed, but the substance takes a step up. A tad more star-power and tighter camerawork make the films more approachable also. This is truly a case of "it won't blow you away, but it's worth a look". If not for a pleasant surprise in the storytelling department, then give it a shot to see what some up-and-coming directors have to offer.

The Wooden Clogs With The Red Straps / d. Kenji Nakanishi / 37 min

This short film, simply called Wooden Clogs on the DVD, features Chiaki Kuriyama (Kill Bill's Gogo Yubari, as if I had to clarify) as Yoshie, a young, beautiful, yet reclusive daughter of a rural family that's visited by a research graduate from Tokyo (played by Naoto Ogata). While he's only there for post-graduate studies, he stumbles quite accidentally into Yoshie and forms a bond of sorts. It takes some time for the two to start a dialogue and for Yoshie to feel comfortable around the "big city house guest", as her drunken, boorish father calls him. Her physical infliction plays a large role in her self-confidence also. When the family notices that their guest has observed Yoshie stealing away to a grand Shinto temple on the property, they advise, and ultimately warn him that he is not to follow her into the temple. But one night, he can't shake his curiosity and does follow her down the wide dirt path, through a grand, wooden torii gate and ultimately up the stairs, past the geta sandals with the the red cloth straps into the dark hall of the temple where he learns a deeper, sadder family secret.

Regeneration / d. Sato Takayuki / 36 min

Regeneration is a story about a college student named Yui (played by Tsugumi; Long Dream) who introduces herself to a former college professor (Tohru Kazama) she sees sitting with head in hands in a hospital waiting area. The reason he's there, he explains, is to get help for his alcoholism and mental depression. They begin to see each other regularly and she soon moves into his apartment. The irony for him is that he realizes rather quickly that she's not the fun, easy-going woman she appeared to be, she turns out to be a self-abusing alcoholic and admitted sexual veteran; for which he's alternately repulsed and tantalized. They seem to be made for each other until "professor" and Yui (as she insists on calling him, much to his chagrin) begin to talk marriage. Yui admittedly feels the same, but she awkwardly delays because of an unbelievable series of tales she knows she has to tell him. The film opens with the professor lying on a sofa, clutching a bottle of whisky in a drunken stupor. As the scene widens, Yui sits quietly in a chair opposite him...with no head! Regeneration brings the story back to the beginning to show how they got there, and then progresses past that room for a shocking conclusion.

Last Day as a Teenager / d. Sato Takayuki / 28 min

The final "episode" is called Last Day as a Teenager. And quite literally, it tells a tale of a college student named Tomoya, who is trying to escape a curse put on him by a pint-sized Angel of Death; three years prior, that will culminate the day he turns 20 years old. He's in such a position due to making a deal with the child-wraith to save the life of his childhood friend, now quasi-girlfriend, Koko (Aki Maeda; Battle Royale 1 & Battle Royale 2) who was pulled from the water by Tomoya to save her from drowning. As he performs CPR, he begs into the air for some sort of divine help. Koko begins to breathe again when Tomoya cuts a deal with the Angel of Death where he will give his life to the wraith in exchange for saving Koko. But as you might expect, he shouldn't trust the wraith to be honest about the deal.

Kadokawa: Mystery & Horror Tales: Volume 1 (2005)

A collection of 3 short Japanese Horror films. Volume 1 DVD of a Region 1, 3-part series from Global Fright Cinema and Kadokawa Pictures.

Meinichi / d. Tomoyuki Akashi / 40 min.

A good-looking family of four approaches their new house and is met by a family friend (or maybe the real estate agent?). Everyone seems happy to be moving into the new house, which will be a welcome breathe of fresh air from the hectic Tokyo home they left. But the main reason seems to be for the benefit of one of the family's two daughter health. That daughter, Minako, had a complete breakdown after her boyfriend is killed, and seems to wonder through life in some sort of comatose, hazy daze. With a twisted grin. Her sister, Yukio (Asami Mizukawa; Dark Water, Shibuya Kaidan), begs her sister to go on with her life but the morose Minako is visited by the ghost of a young girl who used to live in that house. What stands out immediately, from the first images that appear, is the camerawork. Most of the shots are in frame, but the ones that aren't are badly out. The action and the actors are shot far too close also. That's not saying the video is poor, on the contrary, the definition is crystal clear; so much so that I felt as if I could reach right into the movie to grab a banister or push a door open. Those positive attributes aren't nearly enough to save this amateur escapade. I'll try not to mention that almost nothing is explained in this "episode" and only the most superficial motives are apparent. Combine that with lack-luster, cheesy special effects, and you have an almost entirely forgettable experience.

Cruel Kidnapping / d. Tomoyuki Akashi / 32 min.

Laughably bad in every way. A dim-witted, bumbling, former big-shot money-man gets himself embroiled in a kidnapping plot that involves not only his own child, but the child of a well-to-do acquaintance. In order to get his baby back safely, he must come up with 30 million Yen (just over $250,000 USD & $300,000 Canadian -- [edit] at the time I wrote this, that is). But his "brilliant", spur-of-the-moment strategy to find the funds puts him into a very bad position. The story is easy enough to follow, although it's barely worth doing so. A few comical scenes and takes from the Toshio character.

Desire to Kill / d. Kenji Nakanishi / 33 min

The best of the three in this volume. It follows a middle-aged woman, Rei, who lives in a cramped apartment building. Her immediate next-door neighbor is constantly lording over the other tenants and poking her nose into their lives; seemingly waiting for the other tenants to do something "wrong" or hounding them inexplicably. One day, Rei refuses to throw out a bag of trash because her old, bitter neighbor is seen rifling through people trash. She wants to time the service pick-up just right so she can avoid the old lady's interest. Alone at home, (her husband is out of town on business), she grabs an umbrella and rushes into the stormy night to pitch her garbage and gets pushed back into the apartment by a dark stranger, no sooner had she opened the door. With just her sleeping son with her, she has to make it through a tense night with a young man who has killed once already that night. A fairly good "episode", all told, but suffers from the same level of tedium as the previous two "episodes". It's only redeeming element is the hint of a genuine story and a mild Twilight Zone-ish ending.

The Double Life of Veronique (La double vie de Véronique, 1991)

The Double Life of Véronique (with a mesmerizing performance from Irene Jacob), is quite possibly the story of separated-at-birth identical twins. At least that's premise I'm working under. Véronique is a music teacher in France, and her doppelganger Weronika, a budding vocal soloist in Krakow, Poland. Neither knowing the other exists. When Weronika suddenly dies, Véronique is greatly moved by a sudden, ethereal sadness. Determined to put these emotions on the back burner, Véronique moves on with her life but suffers an epiphany which draws her to an author/puppeteer, and ultimately towards the film's realization.

Kieslowski's documentarian roots no doubt play an huge part in the way The Double Life of Véronique holds onto it's linear progression, while the film tends to want to obfuscate and metamorphosize. Similarities to other existentialist directors/films have been thrown around as in works from Luis Buñuel (That Obscure Object of Desire) and David Lynch (Lost Highway); I tend to believe Kieslowski's work is more in line with Buñuel than with Lynch for the simple fact that the two directors, specifically with the two aforementioned films, are more obvious in with their intentions. That is to say, whatever obfuscation that arises is wholly on the viewer; like a musical "phantom beat" or a veritable optical illusion. Veronique's doppelganger can also signal Kieslowski's intention to portray Véronique's struggle to remain an individual as she grows. Weronika is a bit childish in comparison to Véronique. The doppelganger (a phenomenon faithfully constructed in film's of Kiyoshi Kurosawa) generally causes confusion and usually foretell a character's demise or downfall. Is there something more sinister and malicious going on with Kieslowski's story? A major cinematic tool Kieslowski utilizes in "The Double Life" are mirror images of and reflection on Véronique; Weronika isn't treated equally in that respect and since doppelgangers are thought to have none we might draw conclusion on Kieslowski's focus (i.e. allowing us to come to a conclusion that the two women are one in the same). What's creates a more mysterious circumstance is, and is in line with doppelganger folklore, Weronika does indeed die soon after seeing hers. So as one can see, interpreting The Double Life of Véronique can go way beyond it's literal story. But all of this is speculation of course and isn't vital to enjoy a simply fantastic story.

To wrap this up, a hearty nod goes to The Criterion Collection and their treatment of the Kieslowski & Krzysztof Piesiewicz written, Slawomir Idziak photographed film. With newly translated dialogue, a brilliant edition in every respect. An interesting enough note from IMdB had b-movie staple Andie MacDowell on the short-list for the part of Véronique/Weronika... Insert congratulations on Kieslowski's good fortune for Irene Jacob here.

Repulsion (1965)

Not as terrifying as expected (read: as advertised) all told. Save for Catherine Deneuve's more-than-effective take, as one Carole Ledoux, on the paralyzing of the mind. Polanski's tone, cast upon Deneuve, of religion vs. lost innocence and abandonment of redemption is heavy-lifting at times. In the face of her sister/roommate's adulterous comings-and-goings, Carole's tormented, severe prude-ism becomes and is in utter control of her life; that is to say, her every action manifests itself in terms of the view she holds of her sister's life-choices. When her sister chooses to leave on holiday with an older married man, Carole becomes unhinged mentally.

One could look upon Polanski's Repulsion as an indictment on the male species, or as the catch-22 of society, in it's entirety, has become. Carole's "boyfriend" is failing to reach her, her job falls apart, and it's apparent she's long grown weary of random advances from men she meets in the course of her daily life. What may come off a snobbish or elitism to these people is sadly an ever-tightening, already claustrophobic, mind which is steadily grinding into madness. Relationships be damned? Who knows. Carole seemed to never of had a chance....

A mix of randomness and plenty of symbolism fills out Repulsion's world very nicely.

Ils / Revolver

Watched Guy Ritchie's Revolver. Not too much to say on this one, really. The entire experience seemed a tad self-involved. I guess that was the point? Jason Statham is his same 'ol character acting self as Jake Green; Ray Liotta is comically sinister as Dorothy Macha, but ultimately his predictable self; Vincent Pastore is good, although his screen time-to-dialogue ratio is heinously out of proportion; André Benjamin (André 3000) is perfectly cast as the enigma-mouthed Avi — last but not least, Guy Ritchie's chose an impeccable soundtrack, one arranged and immaculately utilized. Case in point, Emmanuel Santarromana's "Opera" lends itself in an oddly collected scene where character Lord John (Tom Wu), flanked by a sizzling succubus and bathed in the rich, demonic red glow, sends his regards to Liotta's Macha. I efforted a clip, but none are readily available besides his MySpace page. All in all, Revolver has Lock, Stock and Snatch -like aspirations, but it's parts tend to outshine the film as a whole. Worth a look though.


Oh how I waited to see Ils. Check. Writer/director tandem David Moreau and Xavier Palud generate a truly living film — one which celebrates both the innocence and repugnance in our world. Pretty much a siege film, "Them" drops in on a transplanted schoolteacher named Clementine (Olivia Bonamy) and her writer husband Lucas (Michael Cohen) in the beginnings of a somewhat Arcadian life on a simple and sequestered estate outside of Bucharest. It's not France, but it will do. As the (true?) story goes, Clem and Lucas' bliss is broken in the span of one night — first by the irksome ringing of their telephone, then compounded by the spraying of car headlights. This is simply the beginning of a horrific night for our proto-couple.

Days of Heaven & Dostoevsky or: What I happen to be consuming at the time.

So I finally watched Terrence Malick's Days of Heaven and enjoyed it tremendously. The film is most certainly is an experience. The sprawling Texas, 'erra, Canadian, expanse lends itself to an expressed womb, of sorts, vitalizing and comforting our senses yet concealing the imminent. Why this guy doesn't make more films is a question to be asked/answered. Well worth the rental and probably a future purchase. No, I won't be rushing out to see The New World... sorry. Without spoiling anything, the film's parting line (in part): "I was hopin' things would work out for her. She was a good friend of mine" is as powerful a piece of summation as is in all of filmdom.

On the literary front, I finally dove into Dostoevsky's The Double: A Petersburg Poem (part of a split release with his own The Gambler) after some months and it's turning out to an absorbing little thriller where a diminutive, paper-pushing bureaucrat is traumatized during a office soiree held at a superior's home. The nature of this trauma is that he...

...come now, you didn't believe I'd launch into one of the story's most impressive scenes did you? I'm two-thirds into this little gem, this my third Dostoevsky; Crime & Punishment and Demons being the others. All translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky. I make mention of the decoders (if you will) simply to champion the profoundly preferable translations by this husband and wife team.  I compared several passages in The Brothers Karamazov, Anna Karenina (which I have read in full), The Master and Margarita, the all three of the aforementioned Dostoevsky novels, as well as Gogol's Dead Souls only to be blown away by the lucidity and fluidity of the Pevear/Volokhonsky editions. If these translations haven't replaced the Constance Garnett translations as the editions of reference, particularly in schools, someone has dropped the proverbial ball. Trust me.

My Kid Could Paint That (2007)

Marla Olmstead "at work".

Jumping straight into my My Kid Could Paint That analysis: While director Amir Bar-Lev sat face to face with little "prodigy" Marla Olmstead's parents, Laura and Mike, to unequivocally requested to film her creating one of her masterpieces, the look on Mark's face was a fatigued one — Laura face was already handing Bar-Lev excuses even before her mouth opened. What followed was all the evidence needed to bring the whole "prodigy" debate into perspective. After much debate (more off camera, to be sure) and permission in hand, cameras were concealed which showed little Marla displaying absolutely none of the endurance, deliberation, or reflection necessary to paint these canvases — some which commanded many thousands of dollars from devotees online as well as at several gallery events.

There is zero doubt in my mind. More believable is that Mike Olmstead, an accomplished hyper-realist painter in his own right, either drew inspiration from Marla's ham-handed floundering for his own creations. Or, went as far as to assist or "finished" what Marla has begun and quickly became bored with, as evidenced by the video of her almost immediately abandoning most canvases she began. I could also entertain the idea that Mark's own painting style (in terms of sophistication and restraint) is such that he might consider "Marla's" abstract expressionism as a joke, and these finished paintings are simply a giant middle finger to the art community which fails to embrace his own. This latter theory would no doubt exist on the fringes of this film's debate. I any case, again, I see little or no evidence that would lead me to believe Marla has anything at all to do with these paintings. Oh, and the comparisons to Jackson Pollock (who's work I honestly find boring) and Picasso are so far removed from reason to be laughable. But again that's me talking.


The documentary itself is very well put together and furnishes a couple of revelation points where sentiment is pulled to and fro, a la Errol Morris' The Thin Blue Line, containing similar ebbs and flows that lend to intrigue. And at a swift 80-some minutes, it's a perfect afternoon watch while enjoying a nice lunch. Just no toast points this time please.

Terror's Advocate (2007)

I'll simply start off by saying that Terror's Advocate (L'Avocat de la terreur) isn't so much as fascinating or intriguing as I had heard and read. Quite frankly, I found it a somewhat boring. First and foremost there's next to zero courtroom action involving the litany of despots, tyrants, terrorists, and dictatorial murderers one Jacques Verges, defense attorney to the indefensible.

Whether he insisted on, or was chosen to, represent. this caliber of client is debatable, he began his career like many "freedom fighting" militants, slashing and burning, plotting and sneak attacking, striking when it's convenient for him — all of this culminated in a marriage to an Algerian terrorist (self-described) soon after the country's independence from France. At the time the upwardly mobile, now attorney, settled for clientele consisting of low-rent petty criminals and thugs, but combined with this caliber of clientele, his unsavory courtroom tactics, and the fact he held on to his radical political stances, his services fell out of favor. For a time, that is.

A large part of Barbet Schroeder's documentary revolves around Verges' 10 years of self-imposed exile following the deterioration, as it were, of his client base. Historian, private detective, and journalist testimony assemble a virtual puzzle of Verges' activities during this period of hiding as he was thought to travel frequently between France and Algeria. This turns out to be a less than fascinating, and shallowly explored angle to his story. The interest piques when he begins to plumb the theories revolving around Jacques Verges' stay inside Cambodia and his affiliation with The Khmer Rouge. The documentary plays connect-the-dots with a phalanx of German, Palestinian, French, Algerian, Spanish, and Iranian terrorist bombings, plots, affiliations, and the like, which constituted the violent geopolitical landscape of that time.

Mr. Untouchable (2007)

What Ridley Scott, et al, might have hoped and dreamed for American Gangster, writer/director Marc Levin realizes with his 2007 documentary Mr. Untouchable. What Frank “Superfly” Lucas wished he had been, Leroy “Nicky (The Godfather of Harlem)” Barnes was. A mash of gritty and loathsome street footage and interviews, “Mr. Untouchable” relives, if not somewhat romanticizes, the reign of "Nicky" Barnes (now under the protection of WITSEC) and his “Council (of Seven)” during the New York heroin boom — a boom The Council themselves were largely responsible for and one which they proctored from the nightclubs and posh exurban homes. In a span of just a few years, Barnes rose from common street thug and junkie to the most revered man in black culture — a tenuous post no doubt, as those who held Barnes in the highest regard were the very people he was climbing over as he ascended to the top of the New York drug trade.

Ironically, Barnes would once again play the junkie thug, with the added bonus of being a snitch, when the heat bore down on his enterprise. In terms of the ‘American Gangster’ compare/contrast, this documentary illuminates, with sober precision, the very facts which ‘American Gangster’ writer Steve Zaillian (and whatever researchers he may or may not have employed) chose to co-opt for his film; something which became very clear after its release. Yet I don’t want to make this a hit-piece.

Set to a grinning retro best-beat soundtrack including several clever and original tracks, Mr. Untouchable is a largely even-keeled exploration of a group of friends who revolutionized the drug trade on the east coast of the United States, became veritable kings in the process, then were “shitted on” by Barnes (now known in certain circles as "Snitchy" Barnes) when his back was against the wall. This group included Barnes' own wife, Thelma Grant. While Barnes remains unapologetic on every level, his words do sometimes take on a more somber tone when he talks about what he did to families and individuals alike by making an unending quantity of drugs available, yet in true gangster fashion he always winds up shrugging it off and simply business. Keep it real.