'Les Cowboys' Review: A Directorial Debut Influenced By 'The Searchers'
Thomas Bidegain has built a steady career in the last half decade as the narrative collaborator of Jacques Audiard, the celebrated French director behind "A Prophet," "Rust and Bone," and last year’s Palme d’Or winner "Dheepan." While much of the success from these films can be attributed to Audiard’s distinctive and powerful dramatic skills as a director, Bidegain’s subtle hand of crafting palpable drama from the more simple reaches of European society is a true gift. While his written skills need no further proof, his directorial debut "Les Cowboys" provides a strong case for his talents as a director as well.
"Les Cowboys" begins in a small, eastern French subculture that has a fond affection for the cowboys and the American West: their music, their clothing, etc. Alain (François Damiens) is popular amongst the sect and entertains his friends with endearing renditions of country western classics. After a tender delivery of “Tennessee Waltz” at a cowboy festival, he and his family discover their daughter has disappeared, eloping with her Muslim boyfriend to live under Islam. His quest to find her becomes an exhausting intercontinental search that only stiffens his already tough personality and soon, his son (Finnegan Oldfield) becomes deeply involved in continuing the search following the events of 9/11.
"Les Cowboys" may not be a classic like "The Searchers," but it is a solid debut from a talented cinematic author.
The primary influence of director Thomas Bidegain’s debut is John Ford’s seminal western "The Searchers." Or perhaps, influence is too light of a word, as "The Searchers" provides a complete narrative blueprint for "Les Cowboys." It’s a much slower burn than the American classic, which is a great strength of the film, but also one of its faults. The simmering tension enhances the thematic tirelessness and exhaustiveness. It also allows a story so steeped in elements of its cowboy cinema influences, to develop in a very naturalistic sense. The drama doesn’t feel manufactured, it feels authentic. On the other end, however, the film can feel very monotonous. While the “action” does ramp up in the latter half, it can frequently feel awkward.
Unlike many films that explore the tumultuous post-9/11 situation in the Middle East as loud and chaotic, "Les Cowboys" presents it, appropriately, like the American West; it’s quiet, ordered and rather elegant (the rich cinematography is a highlight), but the line of who’s good and bad, right and wrong, is rather unclear. That is the greatest strength of "Les Cowboys" and much of Bidegain’s work – he moves with instinct as opposed to a calculated cinematic narrative. "Les Cowboys" may not be a classic like "The Searchers," but it is a solid debut from a talented cinematic author.
"Les Cowboys" is rated R for a brief violent image and a scene of drug use. 104 minutes. Now playing at Laemmle's Royal Theater in Santa Monica.
Lighter in Tone, 'Alice Through the Looking Glass' is More Disheveled Than Its Predecessor
"Alice in Wonderland" is one of the world’s great “modern” fairy tales. Okay, well, Lewis Carroll’s original novel is nearly 150 years old, so to call it modern would be hardly accurate. But looking at this decade’s affinity for modernizing the classic fables of lore and dressing them up with lots of CGI, dashing them with a cup of angst and coating them in 3D to boost those box office numbers, no movie is more greatly responsible than Tim Burton’s 2010 blockbuster adaptation of "Alice In Wonderland." Six years and nearly a dozen remakes later, "Alice Through the Looking Glass" falls into theaters.
"Alice Through The Looking Glass" is perhaps a misleading title as the story only begins with Alice (Mia Wasikowska) finding her back to Wonderland through a mirror at a luxurious party. Once there, she finds the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp) literally withering away in defeat from his family's disappearance many years ago. After finding a paper hat that he thought his father tossed away, he is convinced they are still alive, and thus, Alice sets out to change history by meeting Time (Sacha Baron Cohen) and see if she can keep the Hatter alive.
The key themes of "Alice Through the Looking Glass" is actually time and history. It is a lofty idea that the film explores with a very adventurous spirit. It's a lighter ride than Tim Burton's characteristically dark original (is that cool to call it the original in this case?). Though its tone may be lighter, however, this entry is a whole lot more complicated. The story unravels as an incoherent mess, attempting to merge upwards of three separate storylines into a cohesive narrative. In the beginning, Alice is frustrated with her place as a woman in high society, instead wanting to be a ship's captain. Then the story becomes the Mad Hatter's tale. Then Time's struggle takes over, only to be thwarted by an origin story about the Queen of Hearts. It's a movie that is both a sequel and a prequel and, really, neither feels very urgent and necessary.
The film then becomes a feat of "set-piece engineering" so to speak, the same kind of storytelling expected on a theme park ride; the narrative threads all loosely connect, but they are secondary to "oh hey, this looks cool!" wonders of production design. And, much like the 2010 original, the design is rather zany in a wonderful way. Rich colors and textures that Lewis Carroll himself would be proud of. Look closely though and the gimmickry shows very clearly, especially in 3D. Sometimes, the effects wizardry is outstanding (i.e. any of Alice's wonderland friends), but there are sequences where the CGI is embarrassing in certain scenes, especially a laughable time-mobile chase between Alice and Time that is reminiscent of a mediocre early 2000's sci-fi television program. In this way, the erratic visual quality of Wonderland becomes rather distracting.
Mia Wasikowska and Sacha Baron Cohen both do their very best and are as magnetic as usual. They cannot save the ship, unfortunately. The film represents a rare misstep for Disney– a studio that has had a rather impressive year for reinventing classic stories with not only technical wizardry but true narrative heft. Unfortunately, this seems to be their weakest film in nearly a decade.
"Alice Through The Looking Glass" is rated PG for fantasy action/peril and some language. Now playing in theaters everywhere.
'Dheepan' Is an Enlightening, Quiet Portrait of Tamil Refugees
With the 69th annual Cannes Film Festival underway, it is a very exciting time for international film. The first glimpses of possibly end-of-the-year and Oscar favorites are keeping the press abuzz. In some ways, it is only fitting that the 2015 winner of the coveted Palme d’Or finally reaches American cinemas."Dheepan", from director Jacques Audiard, has been making its international festival rounds to much fanfare and glowing press, however, it’s North American release comes quietly.
The film follows a soldier who fought as a Tamil in the Sri Lankan Civil War. After the conflict, he is moved to a refugee camp following his defeat. Seeking a way out of the country, he assumes the name Dheepan by using the passport of a fallen man and poses a woman and child whom he does not know as his family. The trio land in a housing project in suburban France, where Dheepan becomes the caretaker, only to find that the project is the base for a host of organized thugs.
The film's central story is one that is particularly enlightening considering the parallels to the current refugee crisis in Europe. The film's deliberate sense of realism and grit heightens not only it’s emotional impact but also provides a greater context for those far removed from the current international strife. What is perhaps most effective, though, is the film’s tendency to focus on greater themes of foreign adjustment, and not just in its cultural relevancy.
Unfortunately, despite fantastic lead performances from Antonythasan Jesuthasan, Kalieaswari Srinivasan and Claudine Vinasithamby, the film’s plotting falters as it goes forth. The film is a rather quiet portrait that slowly becomes a violent thriller in the final act. This is not to say it is not a thrilling switch. Without spoiling too much of the plot, the dissonance between the quiet, affecting first two acts and the loud, conflict zone that the third act introduces is jarring, despite its thematic purpose.
And thus, "Dheepan" is a film that, oddly enough, a lot of action films can learn from. It molds its characters carefully, with a sense of verité. Dheepan and his family are not too far removed from modern society’s anxieties - they feel authentic, not only as refugees but as people. While this gives the film’s rugged edge some heft, "Dheepan" does unfortunately drag. If it stayed away from bombast, it could be quite the motion picture. It is still a relevant narrative worthy of its place in cinemas.
"Dheepan" is rated R for violence, language, and brief sexuality/nudity. Now playing at Laemmle's Royal Theatre.
'High-Rise' Review: Elevated With a Surrealist Style
There is an exciting lot of new genre filmmakers bubbling in the independent world. Englishman Ben Wheatley may be one of the most impressive, building a near-flawless little filmography in the past half decade of movies that shake up characteristics of horror, crime, comedy and drama into a nasty, but highly original little brew of the dark comedic thriller. Adapted from J.G. Ballard’s 1975 novel, "High-Rise" finds him at his best with a very exciting team, and the film itself is perhaps is his most fascinating visually, but storywise feels rather monotonous.
"High-Rise" reintroduces a 70s retro-futurist view of suburban England. Moving into “the high-rise” is its newest resident, physiologist Dr. Robert Laing (Tom Hiddleston). Very quickly, he becomes caught in the middle of the building’s rigid system of class division and the differences between the higher floors and lower floors (the size of their parties, the quality of their utilities, etc.). He acts as a quiet friend and ally to residents throughout the tower. There is the gorgeous, mysterious Charlotte Melville (Sienna Miller) and her young son who live a floor above him, the pregnant Helen (Elisabeth Moss) and her erratic husband Wilder (Luke Evans) - whose knack for causing a ruckus leads to the eventual downfall (not literal) of the tower - live several floors below, and then on the tip-top is The Architect (Jeremy Irons), who has designed the building for social change.
On paper, this class system seems easy enough to understand. However, Wheatley’s direction and script - co-written by his collaborator Amy Jump - do little to really make the differences apparent beyond the fact that residents live on different floors. Henceforth, the entirety of the takedown of the society feels terribly baffling and unexciting. While the themes of class struggle are particularly relevant in our current day and age (see 2013’s "Snowpiercer" for an equally bonkers film, but a superior story), "High-Rise" finds Jump and Wheatley much fonder of style over any substance, adding a full kettle of surrealist cinema to a single cup of political allegory.
But, to shrug it off as an exercise in socioeconomic absurdism is not a worthy excuse, there is, if only, an escalating sense of surrealist anarchy and chaos that arises from the vague grievances of the tower’s residents and continuing power outages. Somewhere in the middle of the panic is the cool and collected Dr. Laing, somehow the story’s connective tissue, but there is very little else to connect the intersecting story elements except his presence, which diminishes to a supporting role as the film trods onward. The ensuing orgy of continuous sex and violence that occurs in the lengthy final act feels frustratingly inconsequential as well.
The actors do their best, though. In fact, there is no bad performances in the lot; they do the absolute best they can with what they are given. Laurie Rose’s cinematography is another specific highlight; production designer Mark Tildesley’s rich color palette and sense of composition may very well be the elements that hold your attention for two otherwise dull hours. Composer Clint Mansell is in top form as well with his orchestrations working close in tandem with a fantastic, diverse 70s soundtrack. It was exciting to see a wildly exciting young filmmaker as Wheatley make the leap to something as big a "High-Rise", but he might be best sticking to his own material from now on. It is quite unfortunate, though, that such wonderful and unique aesthetics lead to such a monotonous motion picture.
"High-Rise" is rated R for violence, disturbing images, strong sexual content/graphic nudity, language and some drug use. Now Playing.
'Captain America: Civil War' Is on the Way to Save the American Blockbuster
A little over a year ago, the earth quaked when storied director Paul Thomas Anderson defended superhero movies. “And what’s wrong with superhero movies, you know? I don’t know. You’re talking to someone that enjoys watching those films,” Anderson said in an interview. “People need to get a life if they’re having that discussion. Those movies get a bad rap.” For a director like Anderson, both a towering cult figure in American independent cinema and a widely-celebrated, Oscar-nominated auteur, to say something like this seems like blasphemy to legions of cinephiles who stick up their noses at the blockbuster genre. Whichever way the film blows, the costumed crusaders are here to stay in our multiplexes for a very long while, so audiences better suit up and get used to it.
Captain America: Civil War is the latest juggernaut in the legion of superhero movies and it’s a doozy. It’s a superhero movie that proves exactly how much a superhero film can actually accomplish with the right team behind the camera. It’s a great freighter ship, yet it moves with the nimble agility of a jackrabbit. It’s popcorn-stuffing action, yet it’s a relevant fable on American politics and our politician's refusal to compromise for the greater good. It’s inconsequential, only a chapter in something much larger and grander, but it’s a spectacle to behold, a tentpole worth rooting for.
The third installment in the Captain America series - or the 13th movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU, as the kids call it) - leads right where last year’s Avengers: Age of Ultron left off. After the successful, but destructive missions in Sokovia (Age of Ultron) and Lagos (the opening scene in Civil War), the United Nations has decided to put a new set of laws called the Sokovia Accords to keep the Avengers in check under global government eye. The agreement creates a rift in the team with Captain America aka Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) not trusting the government’s judgement over his own and Iron Man aka Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) in support of the oversight as he feels a sense of responsibility for the mess in Sokovia and wants to prevent from happening again. After a bombing at the UN, the group becomes further divided as their motivations to find who carried it out become disparate. Eventually, the Avengers find themselves fighting each other rather than those they should band together to stop.
The superhero v. superhero dilemma may be trendy right now with the disappointing mouthful Batman v. Superman: Dawn of Justice only a wee couple months ago, but Civil War benefits from its audiences great knowledge and understanding of these characters from a baker’s dozen of films before. The feeling of watching Civil War is similar to the ecstasy of two recent blockbusters. One is, of course, the original Avengers film in 2012, a how-is-this-going-to-work stunt of blockbuster filmmaking that gave each of its characters their own spotlight while relishing in well-choreographed superhero team-up action. The second is a bit unorthodox. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Pt. 2. Why? Because like that final film in the wizarding saga, Civil War is a film with an ensemble of characters that audiences have come to know rather well over an entire franchise - their powers, their quirks, their ticks, etc. And seeing them in genuine conflict, making genuinely difficult and, a major key here, interesting decisions proves to be an emotional effective practice, even for a superhero movie.
Top that off with some of the best action to ever be shot in recent movie history as well. Remarkably, the directorial team of Anthony and Joe Russo find a way to visually keep the audience in the battle with a keen sense of geography and character communication. The script is quick on its feet as well, as Marvel is beginning to leave much of the corny, fan-service humor behind that littered a lot of its earlier installments. Or maybe that’s still there and that “fan service” isn’t as annoying anymore because, at this point, we are all slowly becoming fans. Like Paul Thomas Anderson said: “What’s wrong with superhero movies?” If Civil War is the dawn of what else Marvel is bringing, things should only get better, not only for superhero movies. Captain America is on his way to saving the American blockbuster.
Captain America: Civil War is rated PG-13. Now playing in theaters everywhere.
'The Family Fang' Cements Jason Bateman's Talent Behind the Camera
It’s been a swift twelve years since Little Miss Sunshine charmed the world with its centerpiece family of misfits and misanthropes. Since their road trip has ended, the dysfunctional family has been a centerpiece of the independent film world. With his second directorial effort, Jason Bateman introduces one of the wackier families to grace the screen in the adaptation of the best-selling novel, The Family Fang.
The titular Family Fang are an oddball unit of performance artists, including parents Caleb (Christopher Walken) and Camille Fang (Maryann Plunkett). Their two children, Annie (Nicole Kidman) and Baxter (Jason Bateman) are the centerpieces of their parents' real-world-set performances on unsuspecting public crowds unaware of their artistic intentions. For example, the opening scene (seen in flashback) features their young son holding up a bank teller with a real gun until she hands over the lollipops she keeps at her desk. Then Caleb Fang, dressed as a cop, runs over to tackle his son "the robber", only to have him “shoot” a nearby woman (aka Camille Fang). It’s all quite bizarre, but it’s part of a greater ruse for the Fang’s art; something Caleb Fang is consistently, if not annoyingly, reminding us.
Flash forward thirty years - Annie (Nicole Kidman) is a successful, if not troubled, actress in Los Angeles and Baxter (Jason Bateman) is a likewise successful, if not troubled, writer. After getting shot with a potato gun while writing an article on the subculture, all four Fang’s reunite at their family home in upstate New York. Soon after Caleb and Camille go ‘missing’ in a bloody roadside crime, Annie and Baxter believe that this is the Fang’s final performance, and they go out in search of their missing parents.
The Family Fang is a wildly original tale. Its density is rather remarkable for what, on the surface, looks like a standard indie dysfunctional family comedy. It is a wonderful look at the definition of art and what it can be, as well as the process of creating it. The film is able to bring more of these ideas across through it’s clever, if not necessary, use of flashback and deftly-woven faux-documentary footage that makes the Fang’s bizarre, artistic nature tangible. The heart of the film lies in its exploration of authenticity, which, as mentioned, can be a little ham-fisted at times, however, there are some revelatory ideas that spring from Annie and Baxter’s pursuit of the truth about their parents. In the end, however, the plot and its weighty ideas get very muddy, leaving the climax to be rather dissatisfying.
What could be most impressive is Jason Bateman’s direction. After his bonkers debut feature, Bad Words, Bateman explores the same themes of struggling to shake an unorthodox childhood. While no masterpiece, The Family Fang cements his talent behind the camera. His keen comedic sensibility is smooth with emotional gravitas. As Baxter, he is also endearing, playing his usual middle-aged downbeat character, but this time with remarkable honesty. He also rounds up a collective of wonderful performances from always great performers Kidman, Walken, and Plunkett for an authentic family unit.
And see, The Family Fang could have drifted down the path of eccentricity for eccentricity’s sake, but there is a weight to that theme of authenticity. The Family Fang finds something true, new and real from the dysfunction that is seen all too often.
The Family Fang is rated R for some language. In theaters (Laemmle Theaters in Santa Monica, Pasadena, North Hollywood and Sundance Sunset Cinemas) today.
'Men & Chicken' Is Absurdist Comedy About the Human Condition
The "men" in Men & Chicken are two brothers, Elias (Mads Mikkelsen) and Gabriel (David Dencik) who learn from a VHS recording their deceased father left for them that they were adopted from a noted geneticist. Setting out to a small (fictional) isle off the coast of Denmark, the two find his residence to be a sanitarium nearly in ruins, but still inhabited by three brothers they had never met - each rather loony and odd-looking - and hundreds of strange chickens. Curiously, however, Elias and Gabriel are not able to meet their father because he is locked up with an infection, thus they begin to dig for more clues in the mansion.
And, get this, it's even more bonkers than it sounds. Director Anders Thomas Jensen really hones in the quirkiness (with a dash of surrealism and gothic horror) for what turns out to be a rather absurdist comedy about the human condition. If Terry Gilliam made a Three Stooges film, Men & Chicken wouldn't be far off. While its grotesque nature may be fascinating, it's rarely ever that funny.
The humor is rather juvenile which, considering the nature of the narrative, works in theory. In practice, though, it becomes repetitive and empty. From the get-go, most of the humor comes from seeing Mads Mikkelsen play so far off type as a screwball, a novelty which rarely wears thin. He does a pretty admirable job to boot. Here's hoping he finds himself in another comedic role or two.
Men & Chicken is now playing in select theaters.
'Tale of Tales' is the Twisted Fairy Tale Fantasy That Cinema Needs Right Now
This review originally ran on November 10th, 2015 during the AFI Film Festival
For the entirety of this decade, studios have been dusting off the storybooks of lore. The myths of beanstalks and glass slippers have been twisted into dark and angsty spectacles for the post-Harry Potter world. The results are quite fantastic visually - and, hey, the box office may very well speak otherwise - however, there has been a lack of merrymaking that make folklore so timeless. Tale of Tales, the English-language debut of celebrated Italian director Matteo Garrone (Gomorrah) is the twisted fairy tale fantasy that cinema needs right now.
Tale of Tales takes three fairy tales of unorthodox royalty from Garrone’s homeland and remarkably reimagines them as stories happening in neighboring kingdoms. There are kings who keep giant pet fleas, princes born from the blood of sea monsters, and witches whose milk turns the elderly young again. It’s dark, twisted and bonkers with a pitch black sense of humor to boot. A far cry from Garron’s more celebrated works, though a welcome addition to this decades affinity with our classic fables.
Tale of Tales opens in select theaters Friday, April 22nd.
Documentary 'Fastball' Explains the Science Behind the Perfect Pitch
About halfway through the documentary Fastball, the phenomenon of the ‘rising fastball,’ is discussed. It’s an occurrence that is just as it sounds - a ball thrown so hard that -- as many hitters claim -- ascends, ever so slightly, as it crosses the plate. While interviewing the former all-time home run king Hank Aaron, director Jonathan Hock asserts that “scientists say it can’t happen.” Before he can even finish, Aaron shakes his head and grins: “I don’t think they ever played baseball.”
Such is the heart of what make baseball such a romantic game. The relationship between the pathos of baseball lore and the logos of its statistic-obsessed present makes it arguably the most fascinating sport in the world. Narrated by baseball film all-star Kevin Costner (for those - pun intended - keeping score, he’s carried out a - pun also intended - triple play with Bull Durham, Field of Dreams, and For the Love of the Game), Fastball explores this increasingly complex dichotomy through one of the most simple, yet terrorizing aspects of the game, the fastball pitch.
Off the bat (pun not intended), director Jonathan Hock levies himself a classicist for the game. The film is mostly populated with 20th-century greats such as Nolan Ryan, Joe Morgan, Rich “Goose” Gossage, Mike Schmidt, Al Kaline, etc., reflecting on the nastiest fastballs they have faced and the pitchers who threw them. Some contemporary stars such as Justin Verlander, David Price and Brandon Phillips appear in the mix as well, giving the film an effective sense of history and continuing significance. It’s close to being baseball’s version of The Aristocrats, the controversial 2005 documentary that featured 100+ comedic legends reminiscing about who delivers the funniest rendition of the infamous titular joke. In a similar fashion, Fastball’s big question is who threw the fastest pitch in baseball history. Using modern science and applying it to the lore of the pre-radar gun days, the film eventually determines who really did throw the fastest pitch in history. For fans, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. But, in a sense, the film could really care less about the answer to that question. The climactic reveal is perhaps one of the tamer moments of the entire runtime. Instead, Hock’s has crafted a series of fascinating - if not very scatterbrained - diversions exploring the mythology of baseball’s more interesting players.
A brief section of Cardinals legend Bob Gibson and his 1968 season - widely considered one of, if not the best, seasons ever on the mound - dives into the psychology of athletic dominance. Both eloquent and honest in his own screen time, he is presented as a complicated figure that deserves his own feature-length documentary. Nolan Ryan, the all-time strikeouts leader, also discusses similar philosophies ever too briefly. This leads to perhaps Fastball’s biggest downside. It’s erratic nature, jumping back and forth through multiple baseball eras, leaves the thought that perhaps it should be expanded into something larger. The question of who really did throw the fastest pitch is an interesting one, but in the end, it is the complicated stories of Gibson, Nolan, Steve Dalkowski - a fastballer who never reached the majors - and other players that stick and deserve more time than the brief chapters they are given here.
Hock does bring in some fascinating science into the film as well. Both cognitive and physics experts add some compelling technical explanations to the psychology of the game. Segment attempting to debunk the aforementioned ‘rising fastball’ phenomenon prove quite interesting and the mathematics used to calculate and adjust the fastest pitches of Walter Johnson, Bob Feller, Nolan Ryan and Aroldis Chapman are equally as neat. While these statistics are engaging, it could feel a little alienating for anybody outside of the ESPN Classic crowd, who is not a deep fan of the intricacies of the sport. Thus, in a roundabout way, Fastball proves that the magic of the game is more than numbers. The sport is perhaps one of the timeless narratives in sport history.
Fastball is now playing in theaters and On Demand.
'Hyena Road': War Drama Told From the Canadian Military
It is easy to forget that the war in Afghanistan is a global mess.
For that reason, Hyena Road is a refreshing look at the war because it tells the story from the perspective of the Canadian military, which leaves out the much of the American sentiments that most Hollywood productions portray.
Hyena Road is the most recent film to tackle the ever-complicated military tangle in the Middle East. The film itself takes place in Kandahar, Afghanistan, at one of the largest bases in the country. Following a series of soldiers in the Canadian military, including a senior officer, on the hunt for an elusive elder in an Afghan village who may or may not be an ally, a sniper finds himself caught in a dilemma about following orders or following the moral high ground among others.
Comparisons to The Hurt Locker, Zero Dark Thirty, and American Sniper are inevitable in its empathetic, near-journalistic focus on those fighting the war rather than the fights that make up a war. Most of the performances reflect this time, diluting the rough and rugged war movie stereotypes for a set of sincere, though rather bland, characters. The veteran intelligence officer is almost too good of a guy to be in a war movie, lacking a hard-nosed bravado that seems almost necessary for the situation. Perhaps even more pedestrian is a half-cooked romantic subplot that is awkwardly stretched through the film.
While there may be a bit too much humility in the characters, the directorial approach to the subject matter is rewarded by it. The lack of heroic proclamations about soldiers overseas is refreshing, especially the choice to often focus on civilian Afghans as allies, not outsiders. This choice is especially applaudable in a time when many American war films have disappointed in their one-dimensional portrayal of local Middle Eastern civilians. Thus, the intentions of Hyena Road are quite admirable and worthy.
Also of note are some of the action sequences. Especially compelling is the opening scene, which sees the snipers deciphering numerous roadblocks - both literal and metaphorical - in the uneasy silence of the Afghan hills. The majority though are shot with the energy of shaky cam's post-Bourne heyday. The scenes can be messy, but also visceral. In fact, this brings an interesting parallel would be Paul Greengrass’ Green Zone - a movie that strived to be a thinking man’s version of a "Call of Duty" film. While Hyena Road is a much more complicated character piece, unfortunately, it cannot rise above the uneven narrative that throws the film’s urgency off just enough to lose momentum all too often.
Hyena Road is now playing in theaters and VOD.
Jasper's Top 10 Films of 2015
What we consider to be the best of this year represents a combination of the movies that had the greatest emotional impact on us, matched with movies that felt innovative or groundbreaking. Here are the films Jasper considers to be this year’s best:
10. Inside Out (d. Pete Doctor)
It could be argued that Inside Out is the best educational movie ever made. It takes the very abstract scientific concept of the human brain and turns it into characters that everybody from ages 2 to 102 can not only understand, but relate to. As complicated as a doctoral dissertation and as fun as a Saturday morning cartoon, Inside Out is a return-to-form for heralded Pixar Animation. Never before has a Pixar film, or perhaps even an animated film, felt so vibrant and surreal. It’s a Technicolor therapy session and an existential adventure film, but it keeps itself impossibly grounded with raw human emotion. Well, that is an unfair advantage for a film about raw human emotion.
9. Brooklyn (d. John Crowley)
The real wonder of Brooklyn is in its simplicity. On paper, it’s a standard love story. Girl moves away. Girl meets guy. Girl falls in love with guy. Girl marries guy. The story goes on becoming a charming fable that asks important questions about home and adulthood, evolving into one of the sweetest and most honest period dramas in, perhaps, a decade. Much of this can be attributed to the two leads Saoirse Ronan and Emory Cohen. Ronan is magnetic and Cohen makes you melt. Their chemistry is, in the best way possible, a little awkward, but oh so endearing - a genuine snapshot of courtship in the 1950s. Their love story is so beautifully photographed with a rich palette of pastels that feels like that oil painting over your grandparents dining table - slightly corny, but wonderfully nostalgic.
8. Bridge of Spies (d. Steven Spielberg)
2015 was quietly a banner year for the spy movie. From reliable blockbuster fare (Mission: Impossible and Spectre) to smart reinventions (Kingsmen and Spy), the genre almost outdid superheroes for box office ubiquity. Bridge of Spies was the spy movie for adults. Perhaps Steven Spielberg’s quietest film in a decade, Bridge of Spies flourishes on an unlikely pairing. With a screenplay from Joel and Ethan Coen, it’s a spy film light on action and heavy on wit and political chatter. Spielberg’s hallmark sense of drama thrives on the Coen’s deadpan conversational tension, which is, in turn, bolstered by a brilliant cast headlined by Tom Hanks and Mark Rylance. It may be rather traditionalist, but it’s refreshing - a taut, political thriller, from a crew of storytelling masters, that would make Frank Capra proud.
7. What We Do in the Shadows (d. Taika Waititi)
For the most part of the last decade, vampires have been defined by Edward Cullen’s brooding angst – morphing this generation’s perspective of the mythic race into something more romantic than fearful. Despite their mysterious sensuality, vampires are pretty fucking goofy though. What We Do in the Shadows exploits this notion to its fullest capacity. Jemaine Clement (coming off a hat trick of a year) and Taika Waititi’s mockumentary romp about the daily go-abouts of a troupe of vampires in New Zealand is a bonkers roast of the undead. The result is the smartest vampire movie since Let the Right One In, perhaps the best farce since Borat and the funniest movie of the year.
6. The End of the Tour (d. James Ponsoldt)
It is not important to know much about David Foster Wallace before The End of the Tour because he feels like an old friend after about 106 minutes. This could be attributed to a lot of elements. Jason Segal disappears into Wallace in an awards-worthy role. Or perhaps it’s Donald Margulies’ wonderful script. Either way the tree shakes, it comes down to the words, the conversations. Whether it be about dogs, television, or Alanis Morissette, everything spoken in The End of the Tour feels like a revelation. Okay maybe, that is a bit much. But in the moment it genuinely does. It’s warm and inviting, existential and melancholic. It’s a movie where nothing particularly happens, but everything rings true. Not because it's a road trip with the supposed ‘voice of the generation,’ but because it is wholly honest.
5. The Revenant (d. Alejandro González Iñárritu)
Among the very many brutal moments in Alejandro González Iñárritu’s mammoth The Revenant, there are few beautiful moments where human breath literally fogs up the screen. Leonardo DiCaprio, in what should be his first Oscar-winning performance, almost disappears behind the cloud of his own breath. It is these moments that prove The Revenant may be the most intimate film of the year. Alongside the great cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, Iñárritu exerts ferocious realism and visual lyricism to craft an immersive, unrelenting portrait of human endurance that stands among greats such as Lawrence of Arabia and Apocalypse Now as a testament to the spirit of filmmaking on the edges of the world.
4. 99 Homes (d. Ramin Bahrani)
The 2008 financial crisis was a very confusing time in America. For specifics on what went down, buy a ticket for Adam McKay’s rousing The Big Short, a high school economics teacher’s dream movie (where you at, Mr. Browning?!) which somehow makes learning about flawed consumerism fun and informative. To really understand the effects of the debacle, 99 Homes is the master class. Bolstered by muscular performances from Andrew Garfield and Michael Shannon, it’s a white-knuckle thrill ride and a piercing character study of American greed. Discerning as a documentary and sensational as a soap opera, 99 Homes is both essential and entertaining insight into the crisis’ effects on American life.
3. Victoria (d. Sebastian Schipper)
It’s better to know up front that Victoria is all shot in one take. Sure, call it a gimmick or a stunt to fill up seats, but that would be ignorant. In fact, it is a marvel. It is only a marvel though because the story and the characters are as equally compelling as the stunt itself. The chemistry feels so organic and uncalculated that you wonder whether director Sebastian Schipper and cinematographer Sturla Brandth Grøvlen just up and decided to follow some twentysomethings in Berlin and watch their night unfold. For that reason, it’s better to not know much else about the Victoria. The concept and the narrative work hand in hand to form a singular cinematic experience that is a refreshing rush of pure adrenaline.
2. Infinitely Polar Bear (d. Maya Forbes)
Talk about the greatest actors of the generation for a moment. Seriously, take a second. It’s a crime that Mark Ruffalo probably only came up because he’s pictured above. In his (Bruce) banner year, his centerpiece performance in Infinitely Polar Bear is the key evidence that he is the most sensitive and versatile actor working. His is a manic showcase and, ironically, for a comedy about bipolar disorder, it is remarkably balanced debut feature for director Maya Forbes that tackles mental health, race and parental roles with rare and necessary authenticity.
1. Grandma (d. Paul Weitz)
Grandma is easily the simplest film on this list. In fact, you could make 83 different Grandma’s with Robert Downey Jr.’s Avengers salary (and I guarantee the world would spin a little smoother). But, what on paper could read as a simple road comedy crackles to life in a way that few films did this year. Sweet, acerbic, and riotously funny, director Paul Weitz has crafted a small, timely and topical triumph with his script. But it is a revelatory Lily Tomlin as the titular matriarch who leads a small, but mighty ensemble on a slight, but brave day trip through the emotional truths of love, aging and learning to move forward.
Honorable Mentions
A list of some other wonderful films to add to the end-of-year festivities
Another wonderful portrait of fatherhood to play alongside Infinitely Polar Bear is James C. Strouse’s People, Places, Things. As previously mentioned, Adam McKay’s The Big Short is a rollicking and rather informative tale of the financial crisis.
Tom McCarthy’s Spotlight illuminated the inner-working of the newspaper business to deft effect.
Brett Morgan’s intimate rock documentary Cobain: Montage of Heck and Bill Pohlad’s complex Brian Wilson biopic Love & Mercy (with impressive dual leads from Paul Dano and John Cusack as, respectively, young and old Wilson) redefined what the music film can be.
The American war on drugs was enlightened with a trio of perspectives in Denis Villeneuve’s narrative thriller Sicario, and two separate documentaries told from separate sides of the border: Matthew Heineman’s immersive Cartel Land on the southern cartels and Bill and Turner Ross’ cinema verité Western from a small town Texan side.
Another impressive documentary about small town America worthy of mention was Michael Beach Nichols and Christopher K. Walker’s harrowing tale of white supremacy in the midwest Welcome to Leith. Speaking of the west (the wild west), Quentin Tarantino’s The Hateful Eight was a rollicking addition to his impressive canon.
Netflix made an impressive first foray into the feature game with Cari Joji Fukunaga’s Beasts of No Nation. The most impressive foreign language film aside from Victoria was Miroslav Slaboshpitsky’s gritty, sign language coming-of-age drama The Tribe.
And, of course, there was the stop-motion genius of Mark Burton and Richard Starzak’s Shaun the Sheep Movie, the latest and zaniest feature from the creative team behind Wallace and Gromit.
Review: 'Don Verdean'
Film has really become the quintessential American art form - arguably our greatest and most influential export to the international market. However, the list of great filmmakers with a sharp eye on the American cultural landscape is slowly shrinking. The Coen Brothers, Paul Thomas Anderson, Alexander Payne, to name some of the greats, have made a career out of plucking stories from the forgotten corners of the Fargos, Nebraskas and the Little Bostons of American lore. To much less acclaim, the Hess family - a rare husband-and-wife writing duo - have quietly been writing stories about the bizarre pockets of this country that make it so fascinating. Their first and most successful feature, Napoleon Dynamite, became a generation-defining dose of suburban Idaho teenage hilarity a short decade ago. They crossed the southern border for their follow-up, the even quirkier Luchador fable Nacho Libre, and the small-town fantasy book farce Gentleman Broncos. Their latest film, Don Verdean, may be their most American film yet.
Don Verdean follows the eponymous archeologist (Sam Rockwell), a has-been, public-access type star who found minor success uncovering ancient Biblical relics. Now, Verdean is forever driving town to town selling books and DVDs of his findings out of his shoddy RV. After a small-town pastor (Danny McBride) agrees to fund a series of expeditions for artifacts such as Goliath’s skull to bring back the congregation he has lost to a new, rival church down the road, Verdean and his motley team begin to get themselves into some controversy.
If there is anything the Hess’ do best, it is creating an American that is stuck in the purgatory of past and present.
The concept of Don Verdean is brilliant. It is wacky in the typical Hessian sense, balancing smart satire and low-brow comedy. The movie never plays out as clever as its concept, unfortunately. As with most of the Hess’ previous films, it is more quirky than it is funny. It lacks a real across-the-board comic inertia to get anywhere significant. It loses a lot of steam in the latter half when the attention is turned away from Verdean’s expeditions abroad and the story putters out in a very weak third act love triangle that loses most sight of what makes the concept so fun in the first place.
Contrary to much of his career, Sam Rockwell is never particularly charismatic in the title role. He, unfortunately, does not have too much to play with that supports his typical manic energy, but luckily his supporting cast gets a little more to play with and carry the weight. Amy Ryan is sweet as ever as Verdean’s research assistant and Danny McBride is perfectly cast as pastor Tony Lazarus. It is Jemaine Clement, though - who has been tiptoeing through a wonderful year following standout performances in What We Do In Shadows and People, Places, Things - who gets the belly of the few audible laughs as Verdean’s Israeli guide, Boaz.
On the flip side, what makes the film rather admirable is its wonderful sense of the folly of religion. The Hess’ refrain from ever-too-obvious jabs and take a more absurd lens to an increasingly absurd institution. Hats off to Hess’ visual sense in creating a world that feels rather odd, though never too far off in time and place. If there is anything the Hess’ do best, it is creating an American that is stuck in the purgatory of past and present. In only that very visual sense, Don Verdean could rival Napoleon Dynamite as perhaps the Hess’ best film. If only it had any laughs to make it timeless.
Don Verdean opens at Laemmle theaters and on VOD this Friday.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Kf1WAcs6gs
Review: 'Trumbo'
The Commies are having a moment in Hollywood. On the heels of the fantastic Bridge of Spies Cold War drama comes Trumbo - an earnest, if not clunky biopic about blacklisted Hollywood screenwriter Dalton Trumbo. It may seem odd that such a foreign concept to many young Americans was a contentious ideological struggle, however, it is one that mirrors a lot of gender and racial politics in the film industry today. Trumbo, the film, almost plays too close to a standard awards-season biopic, though Trumbo, the subject, is an important, if not complicated, figure, that Hollywood can stand to, again, learn from.
The film follows the height of legendary, Academy Award-winning screenwriter Dalton Trumbo’s career. To say ‘height’ of his career may prove oxymoronic. Trumbo and the rest of the Hollywood Ten’s tenure on the Hollywood Blacklist for their Communist ideologies put any communist sympathizers out of work in the business. Soon, Trumbo and his comrades find a route to work writing hundreds of screenplays under pseudonyms for studios tremendous and trashy. He would even win two Academy Awards during this time period under different writer’s credits for Roman Holiday and The Brave One only to be limited to watching the ceremonies from his couch, next to his wife and three children. Soon, Trumbo begins to fight back against the Communist prejudice and work his way back into Hollywood.
Trumbo, the film, almost plays too close to a standard awards-season biopic, though Trumbo, the subject, is an important, if not complicated, figure, that Hollywood can stand to learn from again.
Trumbo is easily director Jay Roach’s “best” film in the most academic sense of the word. It is not nearly as memorable as his decade-defining Meet the Parents and Austin Powers trilogies -- if that is really an appropriate word -- though it is his most refined and carefully crafted. This is in large part due to the very gifted ensemble he has rounded up. Bryan Cranston, for better or for worse, chews up the scenery as Dalton Trumbo in a larger-than-life performance befitting of Trumbo’s towering personality. The performance is quite hammy next to Diane Lane’s subdued portrayal of his wife Cleo or Louis CK’s earnest, though awkward, portrayal of the fictitious Arlen Hird - a character compendium of many of Trumbo’s comrades. Cranston disappears into the role though, leaving us with a better sense of the very complicated man behind the typewriter. Look for reliable standout supporting turns from the always great Michael Stuhlbarg, Helen Mirren, and John Goodman as well.
Despite John McNamara’s quick-witted script, the film slogs along for a picture that clocks in at a bit beyond two hours. The beginning takes off with the light feet of the most harmless made-for-TV movies and the brains of an Oscar player though the pace slows by a significant amount during Trumbo’s blacklisted years. While this is truly the most affecting portion of the film - it becomes rather repetitious, not unlike Trumbo’s career during that time. The history lessons and moral lectures do become a bit cumbersome and things get a bit clunky in the final act, but Trumbo is really too charming of a film to get down on. Sharp, funny and very clean in its craft, it’s classic Hollywood done right - something that Mr. Trumbo himself would be quite pleased with.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=af4Ua6DUpzg
Review: 'Bridge of Spies'
Look closely at that skinny credit font on the Bridge of Spies poster, and there, quietly, lay a legendary tag team listed without ceremony. No, not Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg together for their umpteenth collaboration. It’s Joel and Ethan Coen, the demigods of independent cinema who seem to be making a quiet career out of touching up studio Oscar bait. Last year, their writing touch was far from apparent in the lukewarm and manipulative war drama Unbroken, which they were listed as primary writers. It was a movie that made it apparent that their signature dry wit did not translate to big-budget awards-season drama. Bridge of Spies would, in theory, be an even bigger display a dissonance: the Stony Coens vs. the Spectacle of Spielberg. However, it works better than ever.
Their film - and I say ‘their’ because each provide equal narrative heft - follows the true story of James Donovan (good ole reliable Tom Hanks), a Brooklyn lawyer chosen to represent accused Soviet spy Rudolf Abel (a brilliant Mark Rylance) at the peak of Cold War paranoia in the late '50s. After softening Abel’s sentence, the government nominates Donovan to quietly negotiate the exchange of American pilot Francis Powers for Abel in Berlin after Powers is shot down over Soviet borders.
'Bridge of Spies' thrives on the deadpan conversational tension that has made some of the Coen Brothers best work shine.
To begin, the film may be Spielberg’s quietest film in a decade or so. Like his previous film, the triumphant Lincoln, it’s very light on action and heavy on political chatter. Where Lincoln was interested in bold statements and speeches, Bridge of Spies thrives on the deadpan conversational tension that has made some of the Coen Brothers best work shine. It’s the dry humor that is all-too-often missing from Spielberg’s filmography. And despite his tendency to do as such, he does very little to manipulate the dramatics as he has done so recently. Of course, this is aside from a particularly annoying musical cue during Abel’s shining scene in the film, one of those sequences that the Academy Awards will screen during Rylance’s surefire and well-deserved nomination.
It’s the back and forth between Hanks and Rylance that really sets the tone for the film. Hanks is the joy and Rylance is the melancholy to this Capra-esque thriller. Each knows when to be quiet in place of the other’s voice - a testament to their reigns of the greatest actors of American cinema and British theater. While the film is a touch long, it is a masterclass in political tension and one of the best Cold War films in recent release, if not ever. This, of course, is a testament to the collaboration of Spielberg’s sense of drama and the Coen’s sense of wit. Really, the film is a tribute to this collaboration - like the governments it portrays. Two very opposite sets of filmmakers making a modern near-masterpiece.
Bridge of Spies is now playing everywhere.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-2x3r1m2I4
Review: '7 Chinese Brothers'
Who knew that the drummer of sublimely underrated indie rockers Phantom Planet would become one of the coolest kids in film? If you look at his lineage, it may have been obvious (he is a Coppola kid, after all), but Jason Schwartzman has steadily risen from Rushmore to become one of the great enigmas working on screen today. He’s that kid you knew in high school who you let copy your test in calculus because you thought he could get you into Friday’s party or that wet blanket townie who snuck into an art school party that could talk about one or two Tom Waits albums before he excused himself to bum a smoke from every other person in the room. He’s brash, sharp and simultaneously everything you love and hate. Perhaps this is sounding a bit too much like Schwartzman now - quite bizarre, slightly obnoxious, almost pretentious and a lot like his new film 7 Chinese Brothers.
7 Chinese Brothers, the latest film from veteran Austin filmmaker Bob Byington, follows the misadventures of Larry (Jason Schwartzman), an apathetic prankster in between employment at Buca di Beppo and a local oil lube place. He balances his social time between his French bulldog Arrow (Schwartmen’s own dog Arrow), his elderly grandmother (Olympia Dukakis) and his best friend Major Norwood (TV on the Radio frontman Tunde Adebimpe). Though he finds himself enjoying his new job, he struggles to find love and meaning in life through his cynical life lenses.
Who knew that the drummer of sublimely underrated indie rockers Phantom Planet would become one of the coolest kids in film?
It’s a slacker comedy that nods to fellow Texan filmmakers Wes Anderson and Richard Linklater - a character study of an amiable prick more interested in delivering absurd humor than social normalities. Larry is never particularly funny when he speaks - not much of his dialogue makes much sense to begin with - though he is undeniably charming and it’s easy to run with his - or rather Byington’s - oddball humor. Unfortunately for Larry and the audience, it doesn’t get the character of the movie anywhere. Schwartzman has his moments, though what 7 Chinese Brothers lacks is any real sympathy for Larry - the character feels like a caged zoo animal watching everybody else is his life wander elsewhere.
For this reason, it is rather hard to sit with the film. It’s brisk and light on its feet. There are few great supporting characters (Alex Ross Perry makes a great cameo as “Hats at Cars” - a man whom scolds Larry for, you guessed it, throwing a hat at his car). However, it’s far too formless as a narrative and even as a simple, low-budget character study, it feels all too unmotivated. Not unlike that kid in high school calculus class. 7 Chinese Brothers is quite cool, though in the end, it isn’t going to actually get you anywhere.
But at least it has some good taste in music…..
7 Chinese Brothers opens this Friday at Sundance Sunset Cinemas.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-jPsO_eT1g