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Over Your Cities Grass Will Grow
In 1993, painter-sculptor Anselm Kiefer left his native Germany for the backwoods of Barjac, France. Transforming an abandoned silk factory into an artistic Mecca -- a compound/studio located on 35 hectares of heavily forested hills -- the world-renowned artist began an artistic journey to turn his laboratory and surrounding terrain into a site-specific piece of art. Seven years later, Keifer hired bulldozers and a team of creative accomplices to fashion a subterranean labyrinth. The world below ascends up flights of stairs into domed interiors. A dilapidated world of industrial metal and concrete comes alive. And Sophia Fiennes's documentary Over Your City Grass Will Grow captures it all.
Given no context for these incongruous images -- are these industrial relics part of an abandoned rural village? -- Fiennes deliberately wants us to observe the art without pretense in its natural aesthetic; finally after twenty minutes, we learn that these fixtures were created by Kiefer. The former art enthusiast/student and now documentary filmmaker, clearly enraptured by Kiefer's landscapes, chooses not to probe too deeply into the creative mind; rather, Fiennes takes an observational, fly-on-the-wall approach. In filming Kiefer's process, she enacts an impressively photographed exhibition of site-specific artwork accompanied by a bombastic and portentous score. The opening of her documentary, intending to transfix, merely baffles. And perhaps that's the point, but the movie only begins to take form once we see Kiefer at work sculpting, usually in long takes. He is either at work in his studio, or, in the film's final sequence, playing architect ordering crane operators to erect free-standing totem poles of tiny, concrete shacks.
All the while, an enamored art historian questions the distracted artist. Kiefer responds abstrusely, speaking of biblical inspirations like the tale of Babel and alluding to its relation with the modern age -- how society is veering ever closer to the apocalyptic. Even when Fiennes interrupts the film and forces Kiefer to sit across the curious art historian, the bespectacled artist mostly speaks of his influences in tangential tidbits; for instance, he particularly is intrigued by how all humanity derives from the ocean; and furthermore, by the interrelationship between biblical and scientific narratives. But any conscious observer can already deduce that from Kiefer's work, and getting the artist to elaborate in-depth proves to be difficult and, for the audience, immensely frustrating.
Not sure whether to simply examine the splendorous artwork, the artist, or the artistic process, Fiennes does all -- superficially. Over Your City Grass Will Grow is an inviting exercise, outstaying its welcome at an exhaustive one hundred five minutes.
However, the documentary is not without merit. Vaguely reminiscent of German filmmaker Werner Herzog's canon (Grizzly Man, for example), Fiennes's documentary attempts to examine a man at odds with nature and society -- a philosopher who has resigned himself from the modern world in order to comment on the horrors and atrocities humanity, and particularly his native Germany, has exacted. Whereas Herzog is relentlessly interrogatory and so often speaks as a skeptical conduit for the audience, Fiennes remains faceless. What we are left with are impressions of a larger story: why has Kiefer really secluded himself from society?
Sycophancy in a documentary filmmaker is the kiss of death. Demanding unpleasant truth comes with the job title. There's a lingering poetic quality to Kiefer and his work, but he is a man left uninvestigated as Fiennes fails to detach herself from the position of glossy-eyed admirer.
What the Right Soundtrack Does for a Movie Like "The Help"
Such is the case in The Help, the new movie about a young white would-be author in early-'60s Mississippi and the African-American maids whose stories she wants to tell.
Based on the bestselling novel by Kathryn Stockett, the movie stars Emma Stone (Easy A, Zombieland) as Skeeter, an ambitious college grad whose mother just wants her to find a nice man and settle down; Viola Davis (Doubt, Traffic) as Aibileen, the long-suffering maid who raises countless white children but has a crisis of identity after losing her own son; and Octavia Spencer (Seven Pounds, Ugly Betty) as the irrepressible maid Minny, whose tongue gets her in trouble with her employers.
It's about a moment that represented a crossroads for both race relations and political activism in the U.S. Music, of course, played a vital role in that struggle, both as nostalgia and as an agent for change.
The soundtrack for The Help tells the story in song, with choices that represent the disparate currents of the time. Here's the full track listing:
1. "The Living Proof," Mary J. Blige
2. "Jackson," Johnny Cash and June Carter
3. "Sherry," Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons
4. "I Ain't Never," Webb Pierce
5. "Victory Is Mine," Dorothy Norwood
6. "Road Runner," Bo Diddley
7. "Hallelujah I Love Her So," Ray Charles
8. "The Wah-Watusi," The Orlons
9. "Personality," Lloyd Price
10. "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right," Bob Dylan
11. "Let's Twist Again," Chubby Checker
12. "Don't Knock," Mavis Staples
Other than the theme by Mary J. Blige (who has said that she was inspired by her aunt, "one of those women," when writing "The Living Proof" for the movie) and the legendary Mavis Staples' "Don't Knock" (which came out in 2010), all of the songs are time capsules from the era.
There's the late-'50s honky-tonk of Webb Pierce's "I Ain't Never" alongside dance crazes ("The Wah-Watusi" and "Let's Twist Again"). There's inspirational gospel ("Victory Is Mine," in addition to Staples' "Don't Knock") and country royalty ("Jackson," by Johnny Cash and June Carter). Bo Diddley, who is often credited with making the shift from blues to rock & roll, and soul legend Ray Charles are both featured, along with "Mr. Personality" Lloyd Price. And of course "Don't Think Twice, It's All Right," by Bob Dylan, whose songs famously fomented social upheaval.
Just as the different threads of American culture butted heads, overlapped and ultimately inextricably wove together, so did the music of the time. As do the songs on the soundtrack for The Help.
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Don't Miss The Help by Jason McKiernan Rise of the Planet of the Apes by Bill Gibron Cold Fish by Bill Gibron The Guard by Chris Barsanti movie reviews coming soon Fright Night (2011) Director: Craig Gillespie, Starring: Christopher Mintz-Plasse, Imogen Poots, David Tennant, Dave Franco, Toni Collette, Anton Yelchin, Colin Farrell, Reid Ewing, Sandra Vergara, Emily Montague, Chelsea Tavares, Tina Borek, Will Denton, Grace Phipps, more... read more Amigo 50/50 See more movie reviews coming soon More from AMC Sites AMC Blogs AMC Movie Guide Filmsite Banana Republic's Mad Men Casting Call Starts Today! Enter to Win a Walk-on Role in Season 5 What You're Saying About the Jon Hamm and Mad Men Wins at the TCA Awards Andy Kaufman and Richard Pryor Will Make You Laugh Until You Cry (and Then Just Cry) Donnie Brasco Trivia Game What You're Saying About Hank's Investigation Best Picture Winners Joe Pesci's Best Movies Bryan Cranston's Best Movies Brian De Palma's Best Movies Batman Movies
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The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D
The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D is a must-have single player Action-Adventure game for the Nintendo 3DS. A reimagining of the original Nintendo 64 classic, the game features the full original game graphically overhauled in the glasses-free 3D made possible by the Nintendo 3DS. Along with this, the game includes all-new new challenges unique to this release, including a master quest, a new Boss Challenge mode that allows for flexibility in how you face bosses and in-game video segments.
A N64 Classic Returns in 3D
The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D takes the best-reviewed game of all-time for a brand-new experience. Now in 3D, all of the graphic textures and colors have been vastly improved, taking advantage of the considerable graphic power of the Nintendo 3DS system. This game tells the epic story of Hyrule and Link, Zelda, and Ganondorf in remarkable depth and gives context to the many tales of their struggles. As such, this title represents a perfect entry point for players new to the Zelda franchise.
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Phenomenally Improved Graphics
Beyond even the incredible 3D effect, every graphic texture and character model has been lovingly built from the ground up to create the most dynamic and vivid vision of Zelda's kingdom yet. This is Hyrule as you've always imagined it.
Playing the Ocarina
Link needs to play the eponymous Ocarina of Time many, many times over the course of the game. This involves a specific series of button presses to play one of the twelve songs in the game. In the original title, you would need to assign the ocarina to an item slot, then likely review the button prompts to your song, then play them from memory. The Nintendo 3DS version has the ocarina constantly available on the Touch Screen, and playing with the button prompts for each song right in front of you.
Enhanced Gameplay
While the greatest care has been taken to preserve the classic gameplay and story, a number of new features make this the definitive version of this extraordinary game:
- Touch-screen Accessibility - With a revamped interface designed to take advantage of the Nintendo 3DS system's dual screens, navigating menus and switching items is amazingly fast and intuitive.
- Motion Control - New feature for first-person mode is that, in addition to using the Circle Pad to look around, you can also physically move your Nintendo 3DS system around. This makes aiming much faster and more responsive, since adjustments are made as fast as you can move. With Link, aiming your slingshot or bow is much faster and more accurate.
- Hint Movies - New to the game and great for new players will welcome the hint-movie system, which will give them a glimpse of the future and how they need to proceed in order to see all of the game's action and story.
- Boss Challenge - After beating each boss, you can relive that fight and try to improve your time. Once you defeat all eight bosses, you can choose to run a gauntlet of them all and try to survive.
- Master Quest - Once you've completed the game, you gain access to the Master Quest, a challenge for even the most dedicated player. The world has been mirror-flipped, and the dungeon puzzles are all different.
About Nintendo 3DS
Nintendo 3DS is a groundbreaking hardware release that brings 3D gaming to the handheld market for the first time. The fourth major release in the DS product line, the Nintendo 3DS utilizes 3D Slider functionality and an improved top LCD display to present a glasses-free 3D effect in compatible games, while giving players the option to moderate the effect as they see fit. Taken together with additional features including full analog control in 3D game environments, motion and gyro sensors that transfer the movements of the handheld into the game, 3D camera functionality, an adjustable stylus and full backwards compatibility to all Nintendo DS games and you have not only a must-have system, but a revolution in handheld gaming.
Additional Screenshots *
Original analog control scheme. View larger. | Gyro sensor shooting controls. View larger. | Original game + a master quest. View larger. | Equip Link easily with a stylus. View larger. |
* To enjoy the 3D effect of Nintendo 3DS software, you must experience it from the system itself. All screenshots and videos on this website have been captured in 2D mode.
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Autoerotic
There's something about the classic Hollywood sex scene that is just...well...sexy: A-list actors teaming up, flesh glistening in the dim lights and much of their outer beauty exposed, with only the most glamorous and glorious moments of their lovemaking appearing in the final cut...
Autoerotic, by contrast, is the cinematic equivalent to farting during sex. It's a turnoff in the highest degree. It feels like a bitter, resentful statement against those glorified Hollywood sex scenes. If these filmmakers set out to make sex as unappealing as humanly possible, they have succeeded.
The film, directed by Joe Swanberg and Adam Wingard, seeks to make public the private, intimate lives of America's urbanites. It chronicles four interconnected vignettes about Chicago-based couples exploring the boundaries of self-pleasure and sexual exploration.
Although the movie's ambitions are undeniable -- examining a less glamorous, more real and private side of sexuality -- the results are anything but insightful. What could have been an audacious journey, pushing boundaries and arousing (pun intended) audience discussion instead comes off as vile and offensive. These characters are utterly repulsive in their motives and selfish desires. The audience doesn't feel empathy for any of them.
For example, one of the film's segments focuses on an earnest man with a small penis who begins taking enlargement medication, only to become a philandering asshole with a dick the size of a yardstick. Gross. If you don't find the moral of the story disgusting, then the sight of the man caressing his yardstick dick should do the trick.
Another scenario has a very pregnant woman struggling to reach orgasm through the efforts made by her baby's daddy. When she wants to give another woman a shot at bringing her to orgasmic bliss, her husband gleefully agrees and secretly watches from the nearby room, masturbating. Again, given the film's candid approach, the sight of this process is disgusting.
Autoerotic mistakenly uses comedy as the medium to portray these stories, and it just doesn't work. Its approach to these characters is strangely downbeat and condescending, so the comic material -- which usually results from extreme situations--isn't effective in the least.
The film's comedy should have come from irony and self-discovery...but it doesn't. It evolves from abhorrent, nauseating behavior. That might work in a John Waters movie...but Autoerotic never finds a similar, gleeful slapstick tone. It's sour and mean-spirited.
It's hard to make sex revolting, but Autoerotic does just that. Perhaps they could use this film to assist those considering a celibate life in the priesthood. If the subject has second thoughts about giving up sexual activity, Autoerotic could help turn them off and take the leap.
An Oscar for Andy Serkis
As you are obviously aware, each year your organization gives out the Academy Awards, the most prestigious film awards in the world, across several categories. It also gives out honorary Academy Awards, which celebrate achievements in film and the film industry that are not covered by a specific category of award.
While these days these honorary Oscars tend to go to older actors and filmmakers to celebrate their body of work (last year's recipients, for example: actor Eli Wallach and director Jean-Luc Godard), they have historically also been awarded to active filmmakers for exceptional effort in specialized fields. In 1968, for example, makeup artist John Chambers was given an honorary Oscar "for his outstanding makeup achievement for Planet of the Apes."
In this latter vein, allow me to suggest to you a person for whom an Honorary Academy Award is amply deserved: Andy Serkis. For what? For his outstanding achievement as an actor in the field of motion capture. And here is why:
1. Because his motion capture roles are integral to his films. It is literally inconceivable to imagine the Lord of the Rings series without Gollum, Peter Jackson's 2005 King Kong without its great ape, or this year's Rise of the Planet of the Apes without Ceasar. These are not lead performances, but they are critical performances, and the success of each of these films to a very large extent rests on how well Serkis acts the role.Make no mistake: In each case, Serkis' performance is heavily mediated by effects. But also in each case, it's Serkis' initial live-action performance that gives his effects crews the foundation to build on. No amount of special effects will save a bad performance. Which brings us to the second point:
2. Because Serkis' motion capture work is already award-winning. These performances have already garnered significant critical praise and also a few awards: The Toronto Film Critics Association tipped him in 2005 for his motion-capture work on King Kong. In 2003, he won the Best Supporting Actor Saturn Award (a specialty science fiction and fantasy film award) for his work as Gollum in The Two Towers, as well as a Critics Choice Award for Best Digital Acting Performance. His work as Gollum in The Return of the King won him an Empire Award (given by the UK's top film magazine) for Best British Actor. And Serkis, in conjunction with his animation team, won two Visual Effects Society Awards for his work in Return and Kong, and a third for The Two Towers (shared with Elijah Wood and Sean Astin).
3. And so is his non-motion capture work. Serkis' best-known and most influential work has been done as a motion capture actor, and that shouldn't be discounted -- it is its own discipline, and a highly specialized one at that. But Serkis wouldn't be a great motion capture actor if he were not a good actor. Serkis' chops as a live action actor were most recently shown in the 2010 film Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll, in which he played Ian Dury, a seminal figure in the British New Wave movement. For the performance, he was nominated for the Best Actor award by BAFTA (the UK's equivalent of the Academy), the British Independent Film Awards and the London Critics Circle Film Awards, and won the category at the Evening Standard British Film Awards. Serkis has also been nominated for an Emmy (in 2008, for his supporting role in Little Dorrit, which aired on PBS), and a Golden Globe (in 2006, for his supporting role in the television biopic Longford). The guy can act, whether he's covered in motion capture dots or not.
But when he is covered in motion capture dots...
4. Serkis gets snubbed -- but everyone else involved in his performance isn't. Which is to say, the visual effects teams that animated the characters of Gollum and King Kong -- or, at the very least, the team leaders -- walked away with Academy Awards, in the category of Best Achievement in Visual Effects. It seems likely the visual effects crew on Rise of the Planet of the Apes will get at least a nod (although The Adventures of Tintin, the upcoming motion capture animated film in which Serkis plays Captain Haddock, won't get a Best Animated Feature nod because of new rules against motion capture films in the category). But Serkis' performances have been nowhere to be seen in the Academy Awards acting slates -- motivated, one suspects, at least partially by an atavistic fear that CGI characters will one day replace live-action actors.
That's a debate for another time, but what isn't a debate is whether Serkis, for a decade of work exploring and expanding the possibilities of motion capture performance, deserves official recognition for his role in the technology, and for his roles as an actor. He does. As the governors of the Academy, you have it in your power to recognize a man who is in his way one of the most significant filmmakers of the last decade. You should consider doing so.
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The Boy Mir: Ten Years in Afghanistan
On March, 2001, they were gone -- ordered destroyed by Mullah Mohammed Omar, leader of the Taliban, who saw them as "idols" that posed a threat to his uncivilized dogma. Needless to say, most of the rest of the world was shocked and appalled.
In 2004 one man, a documentarian, was moved by this tragedy to go to the site to better understand the loss from the perspective of Afghans who resided in the very caves once occupied by the statues' sculptors.
Though it was the destruction of the Buddhas that brought him to the high altitudes of the Bamyan valley of central Afghanistan, 143 miles northwest of Kabul, British director Phil Grabsky (Muhammad Ali: Through the Eyes of the World) knew that his film needed a compelling central figure -- a local person who would consider attention from an outsider with a camera a favorable novelty, and who would be willing to endure the demands of being the subject of a film. This person would, ideally, have a bit of a ham in his or her bones. And it would be through the perspective of such a person that a story would unfold.
It didn't take StarSearch to find that person. As Grabsky was filming a general view of the area, who poked his face into the frame but an impudent eight-year old boy named Mir. The central figure of the film that would become The Boy Who Plays on the Buddhas of Bamiyan had thus volunteered for a great deal of camera attention, which pleased him as much as it did the filmmaker.
That serendipitous moment got the first part of the story off to a start, and is reprised in this sequel and ten-year followup. The Boy Mir, contains the new film star's maturation from rash eight-year-old with a gleam in his eye to young adult of eighteen and the conflicting impulses that guide him into manhood.
Throughout the footage, a mutuality of dedication to the project is evident between the man behind the camera and his subjects as their difficult lives evolve. Never is there a question of intrusion. Rather, there's an earnestness that suggests the pride Mir and his family take in being the ones chosen for the endeavor. Relating the details of their lives, ordinary and consequential, has become a unique way for an Afghan family of little opportunity to share their triumphs and sufferings with the larger world.
A major family concern throughout the film is Mir's schooling versus a destiny of manual labor in the local coal mines, gathering wood or driving livestock. Both Mir's father Abdul, who suffered a mining accident that ended his days of physical labor, and Mir's older brother Khushdel, the family's essential breadwinner, express the desire to see the boy become more than they ever did. Dad's feelings about his son's schooling wavers as immediate needs pressure him, while big brother remains steadfast in his support of the youngster's betterment.
Growing up, Mir himself is torn by conflicting impulses. He understands the value of school and study, and understands what it could mean for him and his family, but maintaining status among his peers is an opposing force that is very compelling. He spends a portion of his meager income for a bicycle (which his excellent brother helps buy) and, when that's destroyed, a motorcycle. Do we judge this as squandering a family's resources or a poor teenager's need for gratification?
The filmmaker captures the universality of such behavior in a country we think of as being too corrupt and fanatical to break out of the chains of its violent history and dysfunctional government. The predominantly secular village of the Bamiyan valley, fortunately left in freedom during a period when the Taliban are elsewhere preoccupied turns this film into a study of generalized human experience.
Grabsky's mosaic of village life shows us glimpses of an overburdened school; of Mir as one of ten young men shoveling a load of coal into a company truck for his cut of $400 a day; of a wealthy man sponsoring races for the young men of the village and paying the winners and runner-ups. We see the extraordinary case of the village residents who, having no taxing authority, chip in for an electric generator and Mir's subsequent delight when he is able to watch TV with his friends and neighbors. We witness the mutual fear between villagers and a two-vehicle military unit on a goodwill patrol, leaving behind a gift of notepads that does little more than provoke cynicism for such inept gestures. High country landscapes through changing seasons are used to bridge Grabsky's many visits.
The footage of family and community is assembled by editor Phil Reynolds to provide continuity in the ten years of the project, mirroring the physical growth and increasing awareness of the title subject. Mir and brother Khushdel's articulation in the interviews grow in confidence and sense of participation even as they recount frustrations and disappointments in their lives.
There's no happy ending in this slice of life. What this glimpse of a young man's destiny of hardship affords us is the unveiling of realities in a distant place. The impressions it makes are plain and unalloyed, private, intimate, and free of a censor's scissors or a publicist's hype.
The operative word is "free." In a land so endangered by war, religious fundamentalism, and corruption, Mir and his brethren are, at least, free. And we can take to heart the commonalities we share with the most disparate societies on the planet. This documentary may be less than polished, but in conveying an understanding of Afghan culture better than anything we've seen yet, it's well worth its ninety minute screen time, and a lot more.
Aka, O mikros Mir - Deka hronia sto Afghanistan (in the Dari language)
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New on DVD: "Paul" and "Super" -- August 9, 2011
Paul
After taking on the zombie film and action-flick genres in Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, writers Simon Pegg and Nick Frost aim for the nerd contingent in this comedy about two British fanboys (played by Pegg and Frost) heading to Comic-Con who pick up a short pothead alien named Paul (Seth Rogen), who's on the lam from the government. Although the film has a smart, knowing take on its geeky subculture, for our critic it never quite took off: "It is fun and clever, but it doesn't push into the next dimension."
Super
James Gunn's ultra-low-budget comedy stars Rainn Wilson as a normal middle-aged guy with nothing special about him who decides to become a superhero named the Crimson Bolt. He's armed with a big wrench, a comic-book-knowledgeable sidekick named Boltie (Ellen Page), and the unerring belief that he is destined to dispense justice however he sees fit. Reality has other ideas, of course, and it's in the uneasy interplay between the hero's vision of his superherodom and how it violently plays out in the real world that our critic thought that the half-ingenious Super was most successful, though admitting that it "still plays like the comic-book version of this material."
Your Highness
Just about what you would expect when the director of the pot-comedy/action flick-satire Pineapple Express decided to take on the fantasy epic genre, this send-up of films like Willow and The Princess Bride (already a satire itself, but never mind...) sends two royal brothers (James Franco and Danny McBride) on a quest to save a fair maiden from an evil wizard. The result is a hyperviolent and awkwardly comedic film that our writer termed a "gratuitous, inventive, and thoroughly outlandish take on Tolkien lore" that "isn't immune from immaturity fatigue."
Jumping the Broom
A nakedly desperate attempt to glom onto the Tyler Perry gravy train, this erstwhile comedy throws together two radically different black families (the groom's side is Brooklyn and working-class, the bride's is Martha's Vineyard and aristocratic) for a big wedding where misunderstandings and hilarity are meant to ensue. "About as joyless as a shotgun wedding and twice as precarious," our critic said, adding that "Jumping the Broom is the kind of movie that makes one long for the backhand to the face farce of Mabel 'Madea' Simmons."
Mars Needs Moms
A low-rent variation on one of Robert Zemeckis's image-capture animated family films, this dour disappointment centers its story around a boy whose mother is captured by Martians and has to rescue her. Our utterly annoyed critic called it "a film that regurgitates witless moronism at the audience for 90 minutes and concludes with an uncomfortable statement about the importance of dominant patriarchy in modern society."
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
Based on a book that Cameron Crowe wrote after going undercover in a California high school, Amy Heckerling's brilliant 1982 comedy of suburban ennui and broken teenage fantasies features Sean Penn as the king of surf-stoners and Jennifer Jason Leigh in a heartwrenching turn as a girl making all the wrong decisions, not to mention a mind-meltingly fantastic soundtrack. Now available on Blu-ray.
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The Last Circus
This isn't to say that dissent is a new criterion for de la Iglesia, who is perhaps most well-known in the states for The Day of the Beast, which saw a priest attempting to gain the favor of Satan through a series of increasingly debauched acts in the service of ultimately killing the Anti-Christ. No less jarring in its conception, The Last Circus opens as a clown is drafted to fight for the rebellion in Franco's Spain, subsequently tearing through a battalion of soldiers with a machete in full regalia before his inevitable capture. He is later killed by one of Franco's head honchos, Salcedo (Sancho Gracia), during a daring escape staged by the clown's son, Javier, who already has plans of following in his father's oversized footsteps. A few decades later, Franco's regime is in severe decline and pudgy, side-burned Javier (Carlos Areces) has landed a not-so-sweet gig as the Sad Clown for the eponymous show, working under the Happy Clown, Sergio (Antonio de la Torre).
An egomaniacal boozer with his clown shoe pressed firmly to the ringmaster's throat, Sergio is Franco in miniature, ruling over his colleagues with his frequent, ultra-violent tantrums. Not even his lover, Natalia (Carolina Bang), is safe from his savage beatings, but, as she explains, she is addicted to his wild, carnal nature; their fights tend to be followed by feral fuck sessions, sometimes in public. But Natalia also falls hard for Javier's boldness and his lack of fear in regard to Sergio, who attempts to instill said fear with a ferocious once-over at a local carnival that leaves Javier with an aching back and a further twisted psyche. Javier answers back by bludgeoning and severely disfiguring Sergio, mid-coitus, and on goes the war between charismatic tyranny and impassioned rebellion, reaching a fever pitch when Javier deforms his own face with acid and a hot iron before embarking on a shooting spree.
De la Iglesia imparts a genuine sense of madness to the proceedings, which is deeply seductive in its willingness to toss itself into the void. But it comes at the cost of clarity, both in terms of storytelling and technical form. Working from his own script, the director seizes upon a grotesque atmosphere of gaudy embellishments, matched by grandiose set-pieces and unsettling quakes of barbarity. It is then somewhat understandable that once Javier and Sergio's visages truly mirror their mangled, monstrous insides, the narrative itself begins to come apart at the seams. At the same time, however, de la Iglesia loses control and the film's tone and pacing begin to feel like erratic fits. Save for an engaging chase between Sergio and Natalia from her Kojak-themed nightclub, the action in the film's final third is deployed sloppily and the film's urgency begins to feel more like hurrying towards its near-operatic end.
By the end, the whole mess feels only marginally effective in its political subtext but you can feel de la Iglesia's wild heart thumping like mad underneath the grimy veneer of Madrid, which appears as a charred husk after innumerable bombings and terrorist attacks. Casting the ruthless Sergio as Franco's proxy is expectedly vicious but Javier, as the brooding face of the rebellion that explodes into a scarred atrocity, is hardly more sympathetic by the film's climax in a church filled with the bones of dead rebels.
There are moments of great, caustic humor and delirious melodrama throughout The Last Circus. But as a whole, the film lacks the consistency, sorrow, and tremendous imagination of Guillermo del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth, which it has been somewhat unjustly compared to. Del Toro's magnificent fable focused almost completely on how imagination and invention serve as reactants to personal and political trauma, at once shielding us and betraying us. In contrast, The Last Circus deals more closely with memory, how we revert to and pervert learned ideals of innocence and entertainment, making them essentially hideous. De la Iglesia's unwillingness to reconcile his passion for his country's cruel heritage is effective in spurts, but it's all too familiar of tragic Javier, whose inability to come fully to terms with his past births a horror.
The Whistleblower
An exposé of rampant corporate corruption in military affairs, The Whistleblower arrives in theatres stamped with a self-important seal of approval. The issue-film begins with a cautionary prologue. Rebellious Ukrainian teenager Raya (Roxana Condurache) arrives home late one night from a party and bickers with her single-parent mother. With a friend by her side, Raya subsequently acquires a false passport, and in a flash, her fate is determined. Debut director and Balkan tour guide Larysa Kondracki sets forth our introductory excursion into the low-life of underground sex-slave trafficking.
Meanwhile Nebraskan police officer and caring, albeit distracted, and divorced mother Kathryn Bolkovac (Rachel Weisz) struggles to pay the bills. Offered a drastic increase in salary, Kathryn leaves her rural post for a United Nations-contracted, privately-owned "peacekeeping" corporation occupying postwar Bosnia. She travels halfway across the world only to discover that outside the cornfields of America systemic female subjugation is still as prevalent as ever (and even propagated by United Nations employees).
After raiding a brothel, Kathryn watches local forces handcuff the formidable owners as they are quickly whisked away into motorcars and re-routed to unidentified locations. Enjoying a new promotion, she does not make much of an effort to apprehend and charge the traffickers under international law, naively assuming no foul play. However the bewildered Kathryn, driven by punctilious suspicion and professionalism, scours the brothel's backrooms, flashlight in hand. The place is replete with infested cots, rusted manacles, and mounds of used condoms. Kathryn recognizes colleagues gloating in perverse pictures plastered on the walls, orgiastic male "humanitarians" forcibly enacting communal rape and branding.
The Whistleblower has the inherent potency of a top-notch political conspiracy thriller. Kathryn is cornered in an international web of crooked policy and corporate corruption. Placing her job, diplomatic standing, and life on the line for the sake of 'serving and protecting' the disenfranchised, Kathryn confides in Madeleine Rees (Vanessa Redgrave), the head of the Women's Rights and Gender Unit. Rees introduces Kathryn to Internal Affairs officer Peter Ward, the always adept (but in this case underused) David Strathairn. Whenever Strathairn and Redgrave share the frame with Weisz, we are treated to a Master Class in acting; and for this reason alone, The Whistleblower may fleetingly be worth your time.
Crosscutting Kathryn and Raya throughout, the film is at its most riveting when Kathryn makes a last attempt to save the blonde Ukrainian teenager from the threshold of her captors. In a raid spearheaded by the tenacious protagonist, petrified Raya is literally caught between choosing her muckraking savior and brainwashing enslaver. In protestation Karthryn shrieks, "Don't look at him!" And a torn Raya, nearly catatonic, must choose. The finely directed climax captures the psychologically twisted shackles under which these victimized girls live: entrapped by fear, inferiority, and resignation.
Director Larysa Kondracki nevertheless proves to be a novice screenwriter, right down to her all-too-revealing title. An accidental and poorly constructed fait accompli, the film's title diminishes and ultimately nullifies the narrative's suspense. Instead of treating us to a paranoid thriller about the blowback of 'crying wolf,' Kondracki presents a by-the-numbers procedural. The peril lies in whether Karthryn's courage can surmount the dangers of military corruption; or will she wind up discarded like the film's unfortunate chattels? The movie's title unfortunately reveals all.
In a recent interview, the real Karthryn Bolkovac divulged that her most debilitating paranoia occurred once she was stripped of diplomatic immunity, shipped to United Kingdom authorities, and had to await the outcome of her whistle-blowing tribunal. Family and friends feared for her safety. Eventually Kathryn won her voice, and her employer dropped its appeal (only to gain new contracts in Iraq), evidence that Kathryn's story is an illuminating treatise on the parasitic relationship between governing bodies and corporate contractors. Yet the film ends before we are treated to the revelatory hypocrisy, and Kathryn's Bosnian travails, which feel neither urgent nor unknown, are left to satisfy. The Whistleblower disappointingly labors as a rudimentary treatment on the underworld of sex-trafficking, and even more so, as a purported piece of suspense storytelling.
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Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
The lieutenant’s name was Louis Zamperini. In boyhood, he’d been a cunning and incorrigible delinquent, breaking into houses, brawling, and fleeing his home to ride the rails. As a teenager, he had channeled his defiance into running, discovering a prodigious talent that had carried him to the Berlin Olympics and within sight of the four-minute mile. But when war had come, the athlete had become an airman, embarking on a journey that led to his doomed flight, a tiny raft, and a drift into the unknown.
Ahead of Zamperini lay thousands of miles of open ocean, leaping sharks, a foundering raft, thirst and starvation, enemy aircraft, and, beyond, a trial even greater. Driven to the limits of endurance, Zamperini would answer desperation with ingenuity; suffering with hope, resolve, and humor; brutality with rebellion. His fate, whether triumph or tragedy, would be suspended on the fraying wire of his will.
In her long-awaited new book, Laura Hillenbrand writes with the same rich and vivid narrative voice she displayed in Seabiscuit. Telling an unforgettable story of a man’s journey into extremity, Unbroken is a testament to the resilience of the human mind, body, and spirit.
BONUS: This edition contains an excerpt from Laura Hillenbrand's Seabiscuit.
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The Blind Menace
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