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Sketches

Nothing profound to add to the appreciations of Sydney Pollack. The cinetrix remembers being blinded by his gorgeous cordovan cowboy boots--from the second tier of the Carolina Theatre's balcony--and charmed by his easy-going manner during the Q&A after his doc Sketches of Frank Gehry screened.

Then there was my summer of Tootsie.

And he still owes me two hours and bus fare home for Sabrina.

But Pollack's passing also brought this tidbit to my attention:

Pollack made headlines in 1997 when he took the stand as a witness in a case against a Danish television station that aired a pan-and-scan version of "Three Days of the Condor."

Pollack and the Danish Directors Guild claimed that the cropping was a mutilation of the movie, and that the director had a "moral right" to have his artistic reputation protected from harm. Pollack ultimately lost, but he said the very existence of the case was a victory in the battle for filmmakers' legal rights. [via]

I hadn't known about that. In the various obits that have begun piling up, notice how many times Pollack as director is defined in the negative, as in "not an auteur." He knew it. But good on him to try and prevent other directors' works from being re-edited via pan-and-scan.

How little we know

It's been two years as of today. If you find yourself on the corner of Mass Ave and Linnaean, tell him Slim said hello.

Cri de Cannes

Please please please don't let Che win the Palme today.

Nothing against Soderbergh--the cinetrix will take his book about sex, lies, and videotape over countless Pierson and Biskind tomes. But she's still scarred--physically--from the experience of lugging four-reeler metal cans full of Theo Angelopoulos' slow-moving, aptly named prize winner Eternity and a Day [which she doubts we would have programmed otherwise] up and down a flight of stairs. And that's only 132 minutes long.

So, please, Sean, for the theater managers and the projectionists of the art-house world, not Che. Not at its current length.

UPDATED: Merci.

Delocate this

In the same spirit as the Delocator--still the cinetrix's preferred way to find wifi on the road--comes Antiplex. So, so simple the slug says it all: coming up at boston's independent moviehouses - the brattle, harvard film archive, mfa and coolidge.

For example, today you could Francophone it all up at the MFA and the Brattle. Jeanne Diehlman, then Love Songs at MFA and, kickin' it old school at the Brattle, Les Enfants du Paradis.

Also, at the end of each film's synopsis it says "one showing only," "showing through Thursday," "final showing," or whatever, so you can prioritize your film geekery. Nice.

Are there similar sites for other cities? And, if not, shouldn't you start one for yours?

TB TX Dance

TB TX Dance

Let Roger Beebe and Toni Basil take you into this holiday weekend. Enjoy!

Shave and a haircut*

In the beginning, a wee cinetrix read much more about films than she watched 'em. Granted, a fair bit of this reading was capsules in T.V. Week [or Hot Dots] describing movies on channels we didn't get or at times that wouldn't fly with the 'rents, but still. To this day there are certain flicks I know the plots/stars of but am uncertain I actually, you know, saw. And I won't even get into the movie reviews of movies playing in far-away Boston, as opposed to my local theater.

Which is a round-about way of introducing a great piece from my hometown paper's current co-critic, Wesley Morris. The title says it all: A black hole: African-Americans are blazing creative trails in music, TV, and stage. In film, the choice is either bawdy and preachy or earnest but safe - with a void in between.

It doesn't do any good to discount the value of Tyler Perry, and he certainly can't be - should not be - ignored. Perry knows what an audience wants, and he delivers - with Woody Allen's regularity, too. These things tend to come in waves (remember the Wayans brothers' racial funhouses from a few years ago?). But Perry is more than a ripple. He is black movies right now. His style has inspired studio executives to look, wittingly or not, for movies with either Perry's clumsy farce (see last winter's "The Perfect Holiday" or "First Sunday" - on second thought: don't) or his ensemble comic-melodrama ("This Christmas").

That's a problem. There's no art in these movies. There's no style. And Perry's success, through no fault of his own, limits what chances the studios are willing to take on black movies. Rickety ghetto comedies, prefab movie biographies, and feel-good historical dramas tailor-made for NAACP Image Award contention are one thing. But a serious, thoughtful act of filmmaking or some real Hollywood glamour is rare.

Can I get an amen?

Just as pleasing and tons more snarky fun is the Variety review by Leslie Felperin of Phillippe Garrel's latest, La Frontiere de L'aube. Comment dit-on "Fasten your seatbelts"? Here's a bit of the bitchery:

Just when pic appears to have settled for being just banal and tedious, it gets silly. Carole starts appearing in Francois' dreams and mirrors (her entrance is heralded at one point by a clang of doom that would have suited a 1930s horror pic), asking him to join her in the land of the dead. A sensible friend (Cedric Vieira) tries to persuade him it's just his subconscious sense of guilt producing hallucinations, but the stupid twit is tempted to rejoin his demon lover.

And that's before Felperin busts out with "cack-handed," which I vow to work into more conversations. Even the tech specs don't get any love.

Monochrome lensing by William Lubtchansky apes New Wave grain and contrast, and looks nice the same way ads for men's aftershave can look good.

Somewhere Victor Kayam is smiling. The cinetrix sure is.

*Two bits! What, you thought I would leave you hanging?

The Big Carnival

Hot damn! Cinespia is back.

ACE IN THE HOLE*
Directed by Billy Wilder
Saturday May 24th 2008
Gates at 7:30 pm Film at 9:00 pm
Hollywood Forever Cemetery
6000 Santa Monica Boulevard at Gower
No reservation necessary.
$10 Donation Tickets available at gate.
Parking $5
As a courtesy to other movie-goers: NO TALL CHAIRS

Bristling with wicked dialogue, dark humor, wisecracking dames and one of the most ruthlessly ambitious characters in Hollywood history, Billy Wilder's 'lost' masterpiece was made at his peak. filmed the year after Sunset Blvd, and just before The Seven Year Itch, Wilder has often said Ace was his favorite film, but the studio virtually shelved it for half a century after its release. Now it's back to kick off our summer screenings. Kirk Douglas plays a down and out reporter bent on recovering his former fame, and willing to get there by any means necessary. When a worker is trapped in a mine collapse, Douglas uses the story to create a media circus--with himself as the ringmaster. Bring blankets, drinks and picnic dinner for this screening below (and above) the stars. DJ Carlos Nino spins before and after the screening.

* Fond memories of Timmy, and Little Jessica, down the well. Also, "Hey, good lookin'! I'll be back to pick you up later!"

G-d said to Abraham

Hizzoner has graciously offered to pinch-hit for the newly aunt-ed cinetrix.

My Father My Lord
This film is a small gem that is very much worth seeing.

The movie focuses on an ultra-Orthodox family made up of the father, Abraham (Assi Dayan), his wife, Esther (Sharon Hacohen Bar), and their young, adorable son, Menachem (Ilan Griff). Abraham, the rabbi of a small synagogue, spends most of his day in study and prayer, and Esther is content to serve the needs of her family. Menachem, ruled by the rhythms and demands of Orthodoxy, appears to be a very happy child.

The family decides to take a vacation and allows Menachem to select the location. He chooses the Dead Sea and off they go. When they arrive, the mother is directed to an area where the women have gathered and dad and son join the men bathing and floating in the Dead Sea. The sea got its name, of course, because of its huge salt content which make it impossible for fish to live in but easy for swimmers to float on its surface. A catastrophe occurs just as the Jewish men leave the water to gather for evening prayers.

The tragedy calls into question the mercy and power of the Almighty, what is owed to him by we his creations, what can we demand of him, and for what can we hold him accountable. I am a secular Jew and a believer in God but, I am not observant in ritual. I love my faith and the freedom I believe I have to rant and accuse God of unfairness. I see the observant, who accept all that occurs as God’s unquestionable decisions, as the poorer for their acquiescence.

"My Father My Lord" has a tender quality and evokes a mystical mood which remained with me until I went to sleep that evening. I think you will enjoy it. (In Hebrew, with English subtitles).

Reprise
After reading Manohla Dargis' review in The New York Times, I was looking forward to seeing this film. In her opening paragraph she wrote, "An exuberant, exhilaratingly playful testament to being young and hungry – for life and meaning and immortality, and for other young and restless bodies – Reprise is a blast of unadulterated movie pleasure."

In my opinion, nothing could be further from the truth.  It was a terrible, incoherent movie.

Two close friends in their early 20's who live in Oslo have just finished writing novels and are simultaneously mailing their manuscripts. The novel written by Phillip (Anders Danielsen Lie) is soon published while Erik's (Espen Klouman-Hoiner) manuscript is rejected. In spite of the success of his novel, Phillip becomes very depressed and toys with the idea of killing himself. Each time he closed his eyes while walking or cycling the hair on the back of my neck would rise. Erik, disappointed by the rejection of his book, continues to support Phillip in his time of need.

All of the actors including Phillip's girlfriend, Kari (Viktoria Winge), and Erik's friend, Lillian (Silje Hagen), are attractive, as Scandinavians tend to be, and their performances are very good, but their good looks and acting abilities didn't make up for a script that I often found indecipherable. The show was sold out when I saw it at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema, and a smattering of applause could be heard when it ended. When I turned to my companions and told them I thought it was awful, they readily agreed with my response. I felt a little better but wondered why my reaction was the opposite of so many other critics. My advice would be to skip this one. (In Norwegian, with English subtitles).

Life's a banquet

The cinetrix is on the verge of becoming an auntie. Stay tuned.

Dick-George, Tenn-Tom

Dick-George, Tenn-Tom
Uploaded by climenolem

The cinetrix had the great good pleasure of meeting Gideon Carson Kennedy recently. This is his short:

In 1971, President Richard M. Nixon visited Mobile, AL for 104 minutes, during which time he shook 100 feet of hands, lost a cufflink, and shared a stage with his biggest political rival, Governor George Wallace. "Dick-George, Tenn-Tom" is a sardonic look at their rivalry, the creation of the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway, and the attempt on Wallace's life less than a year later.