Three Imaginary Girls - Film Review

The Innkeepers

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 23:00:46 +0000

{The Innkeepers opens at the Grand Illusion Cinema on Friday, February 3rd. It is also available through video on demand}

The Innkeepers is likely to be seen as a breath of fresh air by fans of scary ghost stories. Benefiting from a throwback vibe and deeper character construction than one has been trained to expect from a horror flick, it's a hard to turn away from package. I cared about what happened to the characters as the cranking suspense gave me a serious case of the creeps. It's a fun ride, even if the final wrap up was a bit under whelming. Though that probably says a lot more about how strong the first half was than anything else.

If the ending had fully delivered on my early-stage tension, I might not be in a condition to commit my thoughts to page. Director Ti West pulls strong performances out of his three main characters, Sara Paxton and Pat Healy as the innkeepers in question - and the hotel it takes place in. The Yankee Pedlar Inn plays itself, albeit I expect more evil, variation (sort of like NPH in the Harold and Kumar movies), with more brides who took their life on their wedding night and now haunt the space for eternity.

It's the closing weekend of the inn. Claire and Luke are manning the front desk at the near empty facility. He's always tapping away at his computer and suckering Claire into watching scary youtube clips with occasional breaks for them to discuss the night's ghost hunting plans. They're hoping to capture the resident poltergeist via some sort of audio or video record before their final shift is up. West uses their sort of half-assed search for proof of an afterlife to ratchet up the tension in old-school slow-burn fashion. As well as Claire's extreme ambivalence about everything to make you question what's "real" and what's an artifact of an imagination that's finally been engaged. The few guests in the mix are a not super happy mom, an aging TV star turned spiritualist, and a mystery guest that arrives around the beginning of the third act. Not surprisingly: you never, ever want to go down in the basement...

For a ghost movie it's pretty talky. With the two slacker innkeepers doing most of the conversing. The pair is what made the film work for me. Not necessarily because I liked them, but because I was interested in them as people. I think something somewhat unusual within the horror genre. The inn itself is a major contributor to the intense ambiance of the film. Judging from the pictures on the lodging's website and a casual conversation I had with some Innkeepers crew members on a SXSW shuttle last year the place really is that creepy. It's a perfect location for the story and West's camera work uses the facility to full advantage.

The ghost story itself isn't frightfully original. Though it certainly gave a wimp like me more than a few starts. While the climax didn't make me stand up and say "wow!", the setup was strong enough on its own to overcome the mild disappointment I felt based on first half expectations. For fans of the suspense horror persuasion (who don't mind a bit of humor in the mix) The Innkeepers is worth a trip to the theater. When you're heading out don't forget The Grand Illusion is thoughtfully providing an opportunity for a Ti West double feature with his earlier picture The House of the Devil in a late-night slot this weekend. In for a penny, in for a pound - you'll probably want to just see 'em both.

{The Innkeepers opens at the Grand Illusion Cinema on Friday, February 3rd. It is also available through video on demand}

A Lonely Place to Die

Imaginary Rich — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 17:53:01 +0000

{A Lonely Place to Die screens at the Grand Illusion Cinema at 11pm on Jan 20 & 21, 26 & 27}

If you were starting to think that mountain climbing might be for safe enough for you, along comes A Lonely Place to Die to convince you otherwise. What starts out feeling like a tense (if familiar) man against the mountain flick becomes so much more more. This film, which I was exposed to at Fantastic Fest back in September makes its way to the Grand Illusion Cinema as their Fri/Sat late night screening this week and next. It's a heck of a thrill ride that had me hooked from the first moments. Even in a weekend of lots of appealing action choices, this is not a film you want to let slip by.

The picture starts with three climbers ascending a terrifyingly sheer cliff -- at least to a wimp such as myself. I'm not entirely sure how the climbing scenes were filmed, but the dynamic and zooming camera work gives an intensely dramatic sense of scale to the events, making nature just as much a character as the people involved throughout the course of the film. The opening sequence pounds in that the land is not to be trifled with, as a momentary lapse of judgment almost kills two-thirds of the party. Setting the tone that danger is around every corner.

The three ascend to a rental cottage where they meet up with another couple who've left their child in the care of grandparents to join the outing. After a night of socializing, they awake to set out for the day's climb. Hiking towards their day's destination the group makes a horrible discovery: a young girl trapped in an underground cell. She doesn't speak English and she's been there a while. Seeking to find help as quickly as possible, but constrained by the girl's pace, the group decides to take alternate paths for help. But of course someone put her in that box...and it wasn't the mountain. Meaning everyone is suddenly facing a far more dangerous vacation than they signed up for.

I'm going to stop there to avoid giving away any more away. This is a really well put together effort that keeps the tension high throughout the film. Not to mention delivering a storyline that while horrific makes a good amount of logical sense. The picture kept me wondering to the end what the outcome would be. Acting is solid, the dialog realistic, and the characters well drawn enough to care. Development of the team isn't super deep but enough for the choices and sacrifices they make for each other to feel right. And there's more than enough to emotionally bond with to enjoy one of the more satisfying shoves in my recent cinematic memory. It's worth saying once more that the outdoor photography really was breathtaking. In short, worth the time. And the adrenaline crash afterward.

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{A Lonely Place to Die screens at the Grand Illusion Cinema at 11pm on Jan 20 & 21, 26 & 27}

Tomboy

Imaginary Amie — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 02:04:49 +0000

{Tomboy opens in Seattle on Friday, January 6 and screens at SIFF Cinema at the Uptown through January 12}

Coming-of-age stories are hard to pull off without resorting to oft-used cliches, which is why I think Tomboy kind of blows most of them out of the water. Focusing on adolescent identity and exploration, this film pulls you close with astonishing performances and intimate camerawork.

Director Celine Sciamma searched for unknowns for the kids' roles because she wanted the movie to feel as genuine as possible -- and it does. Each one delivers such naturalness to the screen that it almost feels like you're spying on something private.

10-year-old Laure (Zoe Heran) sports a short haircut and prefers to wear boy's shirts and tees, rather than girly dresses and lacy skirts. New to the neighborhood, when Laure meets the local group of kids and they think she's boy -- she just kinda rolls with it.

Introducing herself as "Mikael", Laure finds power in hiding her true self, becoming a trusted friend and love interest to Lisa (Jeanne Disson), protector to her little sister Jeanne (the adorable Malonn Levana), and respected by the group as a whole. But of course, lies can't last forever, and as Summer comes to an end and Lisa starts to get closer to the truth, Laure must find new ways to hide.

The end result is one of the most depressing, yet honest, coming-of-age films I've ever seen. I kept waiting for some HUGE tragedy to happen, but it didn't - and it wasn't needed. There's tragedy enough in knowing that Laure will eventually have to end her fantasy life and come clean, most likely branded as an outcast for the foreseeable future.

Tomboy is not without moments of hope, but I definitely found myself crying more than smiling. Still, I'm glad I saw it and am now determined to watch Sciamma's Water Lilies (another coming-of-age drama about teen girls) - currently on streaming Netflix) and see if I like it as much as this one.

{Tomboy opens in Seattle on Friday, January 6 and screens at SIFF Cinema at the Uptown through January 12}

Pariah

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 16:18:09 +0000

{Pariah opens in Seattle at the Landmark Harvard Exit theater on Friday Jan 6th}

When I'd heard a description of Pariah I wasn't expecting much. A coming of story about a teenager dealing with her identity as a lesbian and her family's refusal to believe it was true. Let's be honest, it sounds like a story we've heard before. Probably more than once in different forms. Given all that I couldn't be more pleased to say how wrong I was. As it turns Pariah out made my list of favorite things I watched in 2011. Just squeaking in under my personal wire, as I saw the film in the last days of the year. It's a worthy addition to the coming of age genre and deserves to be seen.

Alike (Adepero Oduye) is a 17 year old high school senior in Brooklyn. That she's a lesbian is an an open (non)secret except within her household. It's clear from the get-go that she's confident that her parents will not be OK with learning the truth. And the clear denial her folks are in certainly seem supportive of the believe. As most coming of age stories Pariah is a chronicle of how the family deals with perceived adversity and how the main character grows. It's a familiar sounding story, even if it's less often told within a mainly African-American community. But the filmmakers and extremely talented actors involve make every moment feel fresh, and undeniably real.

The film opens with the audience thrust jarringly into Alike's world as the camera follows her into a club. With no background provided you're forced to decode the scene in real-time as Alike somewhat uncomfortably negotiates the sexually charged scene with best friend Laura (Pernell Walker). It doesn't take long to realize that unlike some films with similar themes Alike isn't confused about her sexual orientation. She's crystal clear on that. What she's struggling with is the confidence for her first sexual encounters. Albeit made more complicated in her case by the totality of circumstances. While there's never quite the same visual splash of cold water as the original scene it sets the stage for director Dee Rees' style which forces you to feel what Alike is going through, without having to be hit over the head with it.

Another positive surprise - for what I expect was a low budget production the look is great. Every visual choice seems to pay off. Right down to what appears to be hand-holding the camera during static shots which introduces a gentle feel of motion. Adding subtle dynamism throughout. The cinematography plays a central role in the storytelling that I think is only obvious upon reflection after existing the theater.

It's hard to overstate how well put together the actors are here. With the exception moment of some parts with Alike's mother there was never a moment when I felt I was watching people acting. While painful at times because of sympathy for the characters it was a very enjoyable watch, with strong doses of humor mixed in with the drama. Basically, I really, really liked this film. Don't let it slip out of town without giving it a chance.

The only thing I can really say negative about the picture is that it's received an R-rating. Limiting those who may see it. On one hand that's a shame, especially because it seems hard to believe that same scenes with a heterosexual protagonist would have been similarly restricted. With the exception of one song playing in the background I can't understand the rating at all. Ironically the film itself highlights the ridiculousness of the MPAA trying to keep youngsters unsullied by knowledge of an "alternative lifestyle." As the onscreen world depicts one in which the kids are totally at ease with Alike's orientation. It's only the occasional adult who has a problem with it. Which I suspect like the acting is very true to reality.

{Pariah opens in Seattle at the Landmark Harvard Exit theater on Friday Jan 6th}

Sleeping Beauty

Imaginary Amie — Fri, 09 Dec 2011 20:09:29 +0000

It's a good thing she's asleep, because this guy tells the most boring stories, EVER.

Sleeping Beauty opens in Seattle on Friday, 12/9, and is screening at SIFF Cinema at the Film Center.

I was SO excited for the release of Sleeping Beauty, not because I was confused and thought it was a live-action version of my favorite Disney adaptation, but because I am utterly, truly in love with Emily Browning. And I'm not gonna lie, any time you label a movie with Emily Browning in it as "erotic", I'm gonna be first in line to see it. Plus, I'm always excited about female writers and directors, so I was looking forward to seeing what Julia Leigh had in store.

Unfortunately, it didn't quite live up to my expectations. The film starts by showing its main character, Lucy (Browning) in a clinical setting, forcing a long tube down her throat until she gags -- this is NOT foreshadowing, as you might expect. Lucy appears to be a struggling University student who lives with a couple, one of which is verbally abusive to her and constantly demanding money (brother? other roommate's boyfriend? who may or may not be her sister? - it's not really explained).

Lucy moves languidly from her unfulfilling office job to taking care of her tragic alcoholic friend (dude puts vodka on his Cheerios) to eventually getting hooked up with a high-priced call girl service that's obviously owned by David Lynch, specializing in lingerie dinner parties and women who are seen and not heard.

She's quickly recruited by the sleek madam for a new desire: to become an inanimate plaything for rich old men. Lucy is drugged and then the men each strip down (there's not just female nudity in this, my friends - I mean, it's not exactly stimulating, but it's definitely NAKED!) and treat her in various ways, from gentle cuddling to humiliating abuse, to a show of strength in which she's thrown around like a rag doll. No big, though, as Lucy is out during the whole shebang and has no idea what's happened to her.

It's never really clear what Lucy's motives are, as she burns some of the money she's paid, then purchases a ridiculously overpriced apartment, fitting in various one-night-stands with strangers when she's not serving platers of food in "lipstick that matches her labia" or slipping in-between silk sheets and passing out for a couple of hours. As her alcoholic friend starts to descend further into his darkness, Lucy's toughness starts to crumble, but good-god it takes an awful lot to break that icy exterior. Seriously, an AWFUL LOT.

While Beauty is prettily composed and the acting was just fine, the overall effect left me feeling pretty empty. I realize that maybe that's the point Leigh was trying to make, but it just didn't work for me. I can't really recommend this to anyone, which is a shame - because I still think Browning is fantastic, and does her best with what's she given.

Here's hoping Leigh's next film is a bit stronger.

It's a good thing she's asleep, because this guy tells the most boring stories, EVER.

Sleeping Beauty opens in Seattle on Friday, 12/9, and is screening at SIFF Cinema at the Film Center.

El Bulli: Cooking in Progress

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 17:19:08 +0000

{El Bulli: Cooking in Progress opens in Seattle on Friday, December 2nd, and is screening at the Landmark Varsity Theater}

El Bulli: Cooking in Progress is a documentary that follows the modern day equivalent of Willy Wonka through a year long cycle of their world famous restaurant. It's shot in a way that some people some people may dislike, possibly intensely. Absent are the talking heads viewers have been accustomed to, narrating what they're doing (or did) and why. Instead, El Bulli provides a fly on the wall perspective -- where no one speaks to or even acknowledges the camera. But for those patient enough to immerse themselves in it, what emerges is a beautiful meditation on food, art, and the creative process. The last in a way that I believe will be familiar to those schooled in any research like endeavor, scientific or artistic. Meaning - it's not just a film for foodies.

Actually for many of them, the process of El Bulli may seem like a foreign discipline. When I started realizing it was about more than preparing unusual food is when I got seriously hooked. It's definitely not one of those simple "listen to folks talk about how great a chef/musician/actor/whatever is" creations. As such not everyone will love it, but for the right amount of patience it can be a very rewarding experience.

For those not familiar, El Bulli is a restaurant of legendary reputation. Home of head chef Ferran Adrià, it's a Mecca of the molecular gastronomy movement. Otherwise known as one of those places that serves foam. A meal at this establishment is not a quick thing you do before a film or the theater. Outside of Barcelona, the beautiful environment on the bluffs overlooking the sea complement the meal...which is roughly 35 courses and three hours long. I won't attempt to retread all the fancy tech Adrià and his compatriots have established to do what they do to food. There are enough articles to be read on that topic on one's own. And the movie thankfully doesn't fetishize the tech. Instead, by providing a purely show vs tell observational perspective, it if anything fetishizes the creative process. Which is something I can get behind.

El Bulli opens on a dark screen upon which we watch a man enjoying a lollipop. For all we know there may be gum in the center. What is apparent is this sucker glows in the dark. The style of the film is established as the viewer eavesdrops on the conversation surrounding the evaluation of the fluorescent lolly. That'll just be one inquiry into the unusual made by the core crew of El Bulli's kitchen. It's also just the tip of the iceberg in terms of the magical things we'll see.

Each year El Bulli shuts down for six months, wherein the creative principals retreat and tinker like mad scientists with the audience observing things every step of the painstaking way. There are moments where it's honestly a bit boring as the experiments continue and continue. Eventually though, the brain matches the cadence of the film. At which point clarity emerges as you realize their greatness comes from repetition and experimentation. The runtime of the film spans one full season. Meaning they retreat to develop techniques, return to the restaurant to build those into recipe, then complete tweaking them throughout the serving portion of the year. Culminating with a photo shoot of the new dishes. The film encourages a lot of extracurricular reading. I spent most of the film wondering what the hell does a dejuicer or vacuumizing do. A set of personal research I'm still behind on.

Watching the different personalities and roles is enjoyable. The goal of Adrià varies by each stage of the processes. In the beginning the focus is on invention "Now we don't worry what it tastes like. This is research. We are looking for something magical.". Then as the dining season approaches the tact shifts toward using that magic to make something people want to eat. While ensuring the staff is up to the task of serving a 35 course meal on schedule "Creativity and production are two different things". The film isn't just about Adrià - in fact an equal amount of screen time is given to his creative co-workers. The fact that there's not just one voice in such a creative process isn't surprising, and it's interesting to watch the dynamics at work over the year.

Ultimately this film was a fascinating ride. First because watching greatness in invention and engineering a solution is always impressive. As I believe chef Oriol Castro says most accurately, "You never know from where ideas will come." It's fantastic to see a treatment of creative process that does due justice to inevitable false starts. But ultimately the most amazing moments for me of the film where the last five minutes. As each of the courses is shown as a still photograph. At which point the viewer sees the realization of El Bulli's process come to life in beautiful relief.

{El Bulli: Cooking in Progress opens in Seattle on Friday, December 2nd, and is screening at the Landmark Varsity Theater}

Growing Up Absurd: Paul Goodman Changed My Life

Chris Estey — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 22:57:11 +0000

{Paul Goodman Changed My Life shows December 2-8 at Siff Cinema at the Film Center. Get tix online here.}

Poet-protester-psychologist Paul Goodman's sociological memoir-manifesto Growing Up Absurd was one of those items you'd find in an early American punk's apartment, as you would a black leather motorcycle jacket, maybe a stack of vintage Marvel comics, perhaps on top of orange crates filled with imported punk and remaindered 60s garage rock LPs, a hash pipe laying next to a butterfly knife bought at a pawn store, silly-dangerous stuff like that. It was a whip-smart book for rebellious boys, a seeding of early 60s counter-cultural impulses that was still being passed down the pike, as Catcher In The Rye or Pink Floyd's The Wall or looking like James Dean never quite fell out of fashion with the perennial non-comfortists. And yet, recently, it kind of disappeared in such digs as they come and go in micro-generations.

Paul Goodman Changed My Life is an excellent introduction into the robust and rousing writing of a supreme cultural critic who was publicly taking on the 50s mind control of Pentagon America as confidently as possible. His public speeches from this time period still sting with descriptions and accusations of shadow forces trying to entrap the U.S. in bloody, absolutely useless global conflict. His anti-authoritarianism came first, then a friend told him he was an anarchist and it just seemed to fit. That a staunch pacifist and anti-capitalist crusader could be so popular and persuasive in the pre-Vietnam war era, translating the images of restless energy of juvenile delinquents on movie screens into forceful calls for national protest, is astonishing and lberating today. And every few minutes in Jonathan Lee's film you'll get to hear him recite his hypnotic poetry about the love for his family, his eros-driven visions, and his life on the brink of chaos contemplated both fiercely and delicately as well.

On the other hand, he was quite a bit of a pervert, scamming on young men incessantly even though he always liked to appear (and maybe even felt he was) settled down with a wife, taking care of those kids he scribed dearly about -- and treated pretty horribly. "Beneath the greatest love there is a hurricane of hate," Phil Ochs once sang, and the contempt most of the women show in talking about his transgressions can be taken in alongside gracious accolades of gay comrades and fellow, fawning writers. It's terrible to see how careless Goodman could be with people, inevitably, even as his creativity and cultural insights inspire.

Goodman shifted mid-stream after Growing Up Absurd into a co-creator of controversial Gestalt therapy, which he helped invent as he burned out working alongside the left as it found strange successes and cultural failures of persuading America to pull out of an unwinnable war. This experimental form of counseling encouraged insidious conflict with its patients, as a means to challange them to wake up from false values and hidden problems. It is here we begin to see Goodman's polymath exposing his good intentions/inimical treatment of others in an institutional way, not unlike watching the Marquis de Sade run an asylum in Peter Weiss's Marat/Sade, only more socially acceptable (and with less lashings and torture).

Goodman still wrote like a dream though, even when he journeyed beyond that field and back into cultural theory, just to find all these rude hippies running things uppity and depressing. No surprise, considering the daddy issues he must have had and shared. Maybe like the public images of Woody Allen or Robert Crumb, you'll find yourself loving his work, and startled and astonished by his inspirations and viewpoints below the surface. But by no means miss this resurrection of a personality that provokes many mileus forward to this day.

{Paul Goodman Changed My Life shows December 2-8 at Siff Cinema at the Film Center. Get tix online here.}

Paul Goodman Changed My Life is an excellent introduction into the robust and rousing writing of a supreme cultural critic who was publicly taking on the 50s mind control of Pentagon America as confidently as possible. His public speeches from this time period still sting with descriptions and accusations of shadow forces trying to entrap the U.S. in bloody, absolutely useless global conflict. His anti-authoritarianism came first, then a friend told him he was an anarchist and it just seemed to fit. That a staunch pacifist and anti-capitalist crusader could be so popular and persuasive in the pre-Vietnam war era, translating the images of restless energy of juvenile delinquents on movie screens into forceful calls for national protest, is astonishing and liberating today. And every few minutes in Jonathan Lee's film you'll get to hear him recite his hypnotic poetry about the love for his family, his eros-driven visions, and his life on the brink of chaos contemplated both fiercely and delicately as well.

Kill All Redneck Pricks: A documentary about a band called KARP

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 25 Nov 2011 17:01:54 +0000

{Kill All Redneck Pricks: A documentary about a band called Karp opens in Seattle on Friday, 11/25 at the Grand Illusion Cinema}

Once upon a time there was a band named KARP. Three boys with a gleam in their eyes and a shared love of the Olympia WA music scene. Forming a band and chasing the dream. Playing louder and darker than their peers as they toured the country in the back of a beat up old van. With fungible jobs at theaters and bars to scratch by. Kill All Redneck Pricks: A documentary about a band called Karp is a story of comitted friendships crossed with a classic story of demons, adulthood drugs and incredibly bad luck tearing a promising thing apart. It's also a snapshot of a local music scene and it's ups and downs. KARP is a film that probably rewards how much intensity for the subject matter the viewer arrives with. And their personal tolerance for footage that sometimes would make the Blair Witch Project feel like it was shot on rails.

After a brief overview of the music scene in Olympia WA the story of KARP begins. Attending school together the band members were not the cool kids. But they were musically inclined. With the familiar "hey - let's start a band" moment KARP was born. Their own personal fanzine version of a high school newsletter provided the moniker for the group and a message as to where they were coming from. It's an unsubtle and direct title for a band, and I plead guilty to loving it, K.A.R.P = Kill All Redneck Pricks. Slightly less confrontational than the earlier acronym titled band MDC but still most excellent. As portrayed in the documentary less inclined to play with variations of the acronym than MDC. Which is sort of too bad in some ways.

Anyways … the story goes as these stories often do. Moving up the talent scale as their proficiency increased their improved skills allowing them to briefly realize the potential of their ambitions. Originals in style and sound we're told they stood out both in intensity and darkness of of sound. We see where they lived, where they worked and the scams they ran to make ends meet. If you learn one important thing from the film it just may be to look more closely at what you're being served at the local movie house. A common theme of the talking head interviews throughout is references to KARP in the past tense. Only a remarkably unobservant viewer wouldn't pick up on this ... and the lack of present day footage of the band. Things seem to be going well for the group in the stories, but that past tense thing looms throughout.

Around 50 minutes in, the ball begins to drop as one of the three begins a struggle with drugs. Their ascent was incomplete and short lived and the film explains how and the where are they now. It's a sad story, getting into the details of which I'm sure will appeal to fans of the band. My interest began to cool after the first third of the film. While every such story is individual the story of KARP while sad just didn't really grab me, at least as told through the film. After a point I'd have loved the picture into some of the events or stories vs ticking through the history. Visually director William Badgley paints most of the pictures with grainy footage of the band and hi-fi video of NW scenery. It makes sense to give the vibe of the era and build a consistent look around what I assume was limited source footage. Though there was a point where a more stable camera base or less grainy feel would have been appreciated.

With full knowledge that this will cause any NW coolness I've somehow accrued to be revoked I must admit a complete lack of knowledge of KARP prior to seeing this film. Interest in keeping my string of music documentary reviews going and a passionate love for acronym named bands led me to watch. Meaning I'm not really the target audience for the film. While it doesn't sound so at first, there's a criticism of the picture in that statement. A great music documentary should get you to care about the place, the people or the time. Even if you didn't enter knowing or liking the music of the subjects. Rock, country or rap, punk or blues - hooking the viewer into a fascinating world is the measure I hold the music genre doc should be held to. Even while there's clearly a place for straighter retrospective works that explain the trajectory of a band and throw in some archival footage of them playing. Kill All Redneck Pricks: A documentary about a band called Karp falls squarely into that latter category. If you're a fan of the band or can't wait to learn every last bit about the Northwest music scene this is must see. If only for completeness. All others - I wouldn't say this is something you need to prioritize. Especially in contrast with the Fishbone doc Grand Illusion had last week.

One thing I did take away was an interest in listening to KARP's music. Doing such is part of my new Thanksgiving weekend plan. So at least the film did move me in that respect.

{Kill All Redneck Pricks: A documentary about a band called Karp opens in Seattle on Friday, 11/25 at the Grand Illusion Cinema}

The Weird World of Blowfly

Chris Estey — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 16:38:14 +0000

{Running 11/25 through 11/29, at the SIFF Film Center. Tickets $10, $5 for SIFF members. SIFF passes and vouchers are available at the Box Office.}

Clarence Reid was a hell of an R&B/pop rock music writer and performer, starting in 1959 and finding an apex crafting a calvalcade of passionate soul sides for Paul Kelly, KC & the Sunshine Band, Betty Wright, Ann Sexton, and Gwen McCrae in the pre-disco boom years of 1971 to 1975. Reid's own naturally powerful, from-the-gut bark-croon can be heard on many universally appealing love songs on his own records too, even after the point that he invented the "dirty rapper" supervillain persona Blowfly.

The tightly structured new biographical documentary The Weird World of Blowfly doesn't actually tell us how Reid became this nasty-ass, darkly humorous, always obscene, dressed-as-a-ghetto-wrestler, emerging (or hiding) from a promising and succesful soul-pop singer/songwriter. The expert pacing, editing, and shooting isn't about revealing much overt internal history or intentions, if any is to be gleaned. It doesn't even give us backstory on what this sort of character usually means in music made by blacks or whites (think controversial C&W iconoclast David Allan Coe wearing his mask too and singing dirty around the same time as Reid's morphing).

But it does catch us up with the 72 year old mutant of punk and hip-hop and satirical smut, and touches many emotional bases on what may have been the psychological triggers that blew up into The Weird World of Blowfly. That's the 1971 depraved-sounding debut which viciously mocked politeness-driven soft rock and R&B with fart jokes and a whole lot of scat references, and is almost as recurrent in underground semi-pop music circles as Gil Scott-Heron, and surely as much as Jello Biafra.

Also, along the way, in a proto-burst of originality in 1965, Blowfly happened to invent rap ("Rap Dirty"), an assertion backed up here by the mighty Chuck D. and Ice T., who actually seem like the last thing they want to do is disagree with Blowfly. This connection to several decades of black culture recordings -- especially those created to fulfill a bridge between comedy LPs, and more outrageous "blue" soul-rock artists (Millie Jackson, Betty Davis) may not be substantially explored. But Blowfly's surprising contemporary importance -- despite a gait caused by bunched toes and a knee bound up in painful arthritis, no royalties due to a devastating 2003 tax debt, and a viciously demanding work ethic piloted by a micro-managing (but very caring) drummer-manager -- is very present. You may be offended by his lyrics and coarse tempter, but he actually seems very loving to most everyone at least much of the time, and an incredibly hard worker.

Without giving too much away (Blowfly's mom is still alive?! And he lives with her?! And what's that Bible doing there?! And he never did any drugs or alcohol? And NBA superstar Tracy Reid is his daughter? And what does he have against vaginas so much anyways?!) those who get the vital energies of a genuinely inspired performer choosing to take the weird road, staying DIY even when it seems insane, should really give this doc a shot. Even if you might be offended. Oh yeah, I'm pretty sure you will be offended.

{Running 11/25 through 11/29, at the SIFF Film Center. Tickets $10, $5 for SIFF members. SIFF passes and vouchers are available at the Box Office.}

The tightly structured new biographical documentary The Weird World of Blowfly doesn't actually tell us how Reid became this nasty-ass, darkly humorous, always obscene, dressed-as-a-ghetto-wrestler, emerging (or hiding) from a promising and succesful soul-pop singer/songwriter. The expert pacing, editing, and shooting isn't about revealing much overt internal history or intentions, if any is to be gleaned. It doesn't even give us backstory on what this sort of character usually means in music either black or white (think controversial C&W iconoclast David Allan Coe wearing his mask too and singing dirty around the same time as Reid's morphing).

But it does catch us up with the 72 year-old mutant of punk and hip-hop and satirical smut, and touches many emotional bases on what may have been the psychological triggers that blew up into The Weird World of Blowfly. That's the 1971 depraved-sounding debut which viciously mocked politeness-driven soft rock and R&B with fart jokes and a whole lot of scat references, and is almost as recurrent in underground semi-pop music circles as Gil Scott-Heron, and surely as much as Tiny Tim.

London Boulevard

Imaginary Amie — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 18:06:45 +0000

{London Boulevard opens in Seatte on Wednesday, 11/23 and is screening at SIFF Cinema at the Uptown through 12/1. Showtimes & tickets here.}

I'm not sure I ever would of thought of pairing Keira Knightly and Colin Farrell in a gritty British crime drama, but for whatever reason it totally works in London Boulevard.

Fresh out of prison, Mitchel (Farrell) gets recruited by friend Billy (an oily Ben Chaplin) to do some "jobs" with him around town - the only problem is that after doing time, Mitchel has lost the stomach for mob work. Offered a legitimate handyman/bodyguard job taking care of semi-crazy actress Charlotte (Knightley), Mitchel finds himself changing even more as he falls for her fragile gentleness.

But this isn't exactly a love story…kingpin Gant (a grizzled Ray Winstone) tries to recruit Mitchel as one of his soldiers, and becomes increasingly frustrated at his refusal to join in. Eventually the tension ramps up to a full-on war - one where it's hard to tell which of these badasses will win. To quote Farrell's character at the funeral of a friend, "We're all fucked."

In addition to Knightly & Farrell doing a better job than I thought possible, the supporting casting is brilliant. I particularly enjoyed strong performances from David Thewlis as Charlotte's quirky caretaker Jordan, and Pushing Daisies' Anna Friel acting the hell out of her role as Mitchel's train wreck of a sister, Briony.

While there's nothing too deep going on in the script, it's a fairly entertaining ride - and one that manages to throw a few surprising punches. Thoroughly enjoyable, and well worth the ticket price.

{London Boulevard opens in Seatte on Wednesday, 11/23 and is screening at SIFF Cinema at the Uptown through 12/1. Showtimes & tickets here.}

I'm not sure I ever would of thought of pairing Keira Knightly and Colin Farrell in a gritty British crime drama, but for whatever reason it totally works in London Boulevard.

Everyday Sunshine: The Story of Fishbone

Imaginary Rich — Sat, 19 Nov 2011 00:28:22 +0000

{Everyday Sunshine: The Story of Fishbone opens at the Grand Illusion on Friday November 18th. The Filmakers will be attendance for Q&A this Saturday and Sunday.}

One of the films I most regretted missing at STIFF this year was the documentary Everyday Sunshine: The Story of Fishbone. So I was pretty happy to see it was going to be coming to the Grand Illusion theater for a week starting on Friday. The film embraces the fact that there are a subset of bands whose live show is so strong that it will forever diminish the feel of their recorded sessions.

Personally, the top of that list of bands will always be The Ramones. Much as I enjoy their albums, it always feels like a weak memory of their performances. More germane to this discussion is the manic but tightly orchestrated harmonic chaos of Fishbone playing live. We're taken on a ride through their origin story, the band's rise and fall, and into the present day as the diehard members deal with frayed but enduring friendships and compulsive need to keep playing for audiences.

Everyday Sunshine starts with the thesis that Fishbone is a band apart - due to their broad mix of styles, influence on others, and of course the strength of their live performances. It also provides a more in-depth view of how a band can fall apart over the years. Something we hear about all the time - though few films deconstruct as well how it happens.

The film begins with a series of talking heads espousing the skill and importance of Fishbone. It's hard to imagine a more diverse set of supporters on display. Ranging from front-men of the Circle Jerks and the Minutemen and Ice-T, straight through to Branford Marsalis. For a band that can be lazily categorized into a punk-ska bucket the influences of Fishbone pretty diverse. One admirer describes it as "I've seen them do every style...in the same song." Or in the more direct words of Ice-T, "It wasn't rock, it wasn't metal, it wasn't hip hop, it wasn't funk, it was just some different shit."

Everyday Sunshine visually mimics that polyglot of techniques telling the story of Fishbone through a blend including talking heads, cartoon animation, moving photo recreations, voiceover and several other styles I've likely forgotten. It's a well matched approach and fills on gaps that may exist in archival video materials. There's not a lot to dislike with the exception of Laurence Fishburne's voice over. That just felt incredibly stilted. If you don't like music documentaries Everyday Sunshine may not entirely change your mind - it's deeper than many but will feel familiar in many ways. It's not my favorite genre truth be told. But Everyday Sunshine held my attention. My only lasting complaint is that for the life of me I can't get their song Party at Ground Zero out of my head now.

This is a warts and all look at the history of the band. The story of Fishbone is a story of junior high friendships. Forged within the racial politics of the early 80's in Los Angeles and the nascent local punk scene. The group met as friends in a junior high they were bussed to and practiced their music together constantly. What emerged was a sound that didn't quite fit in anywhere. An issue spoken to by their record company producer who shares tales of Columbia's confusion as to whether they were a "black act" or not. From a music industry perspective the tale of Fishbone isn't entirely unfamiliar. Pioneers before their time they came right up to the cusp of breakout stardom and then fell short. This took its toll on the band who because of its all are equals nature was perhaps less able to commit to a specific musical theme than some might have wanted. To quote their early manager - "Had Fishbone been less of a democracy they might have been a more successful band. But had they been less of a democracy they wouldn't have been Fishbone." Over time members fall out leaving just original members Norwood Fisher and Angelo Moore playing gigs into the present day, writing new music and touring as much as possible. Maybe they truly believe there's a big break coming. Or maybe they just have to play for the love of the music. The film doesn't tell you how to view it. But just lets the story of these childhood to adult relationships unfold. It's sometimes painful to watch but it certainly feels real.

There's ample concert footage that give a sense of their incredibly complex improvised feeling but tight live gigs. And multiple demonstrations of the energy they brought to it. Including one of their first gigs described by a a fan whose mind it rattled who summarized it as;

"There's no real lead singer. It barely looked like they were paying attention to their instruments. Jumping around like crazy to the point that all the mike stands were knocked over in the first two songs. It was amazing. And then it was all over in 22 minutes..."

I loved seeing footage of them (literally) climbing the walls of what I'm pretty sure was The Ritz in NYC. If memory serves I saw them there a year or two earlier than the included footage. But watching them stage dive off the balcony seemed super familiar and thrust me back in time like it was yesterday.

If you've ever wondered how a band with great chemistry can disintegrate then this film will help make it clearer. Via watching the actual members of Fishbone and listening to some surprisingly insightful reflections from their fans (especially Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers). While its not altogether a happy experience one comes away feeling you've gotten more insight into these original guys than in many rock docs. And the strength of their friendships over a 25 year span is impressive and often touching. Bottom line - the title of Everyday Sunshine promises to tell to tell the story of Fishbone. And that's what it did. If you're a fan I can't see why you'd want to skip. If you've never heard of them then you can treat it as a history lesson into a band that influenced many, many acts that achieved more fame than they did. If you can't stand punkish ska sounds and hate music documentaries this probably isn't for you. But then again if that's how you feel sort of doubt you'd have read this far.

{Everyday Sunshine: The Story of Fishbone opens at the Grand Illusion on Friday November 18th. The Filmakers will be attendance for Q&A this Saturday and Sunday.}

The Other F Word

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 19:37:26 +0000

{The Other F Word opened in Seattle on Friday, 11/18, and is screening at the Landmark Varsity theatre}

What is the other F word you ask? Turns out it's "fatherhood." What happens when the ultimate spreaders of an anti-authority message are forced to be voice of that authority as a parent? That's the question posed by this documentary that dives into the parenting challenges faced by aging punk rock frontmen. Having been a big fan of punk (though not hugely of all the bands portrayed) and of a similar age as the subjects, I've been interested in seeing the film since it played at SXSW 2011.

Since I missed it there, I practically jumped at the opportunity to check it out ahead of it rolling into town at the Landmark Varsity theater. Overall it's an entertaining film to watch. Some funny moments, great access, and interesting subjects -- though mildly disappointing. Not because the film is bad, but because it left unexplored some the best parts of the premise.

The basics are none too earth shattering. For the men onscreen, having children changes everything. Trying to make a living in a business that requires you to tour 200+ days a year causes real pain in being away from your kids. Several of the guys mention having not-so-present fathers and are working hard to be there for their children. So far so good, although it's nothing you haven't heard before. But… the film misses the opportunity to really get into the juxtaposition between having a fuck-off attitude and whether they seek to either instill it in their children or fear passing it along.

Or, for example: how does a punk rock father deal with a kid that tells him he's got no authority over them? Their time on tour away from their kids isn't what makes the subject matter unique. People who have to travel to put food on the table and their conflicts aren't that hard to imagine. It's the rebellion as identity and how they reinterpret the punk rock ethos as they age that's the draw to the film. At least it was for me.

There are a collection of interviews with musicians, a really good look behind the scenes of what touring as a guy in your late 30's is like in one of these bands, and footage of everyone's family. The film's main subject is Jim Lindberg of Pennywise who has been touring for something like 20 years now. He is a compelling subject, so that works well. But most of his feedback is about how tough it is to be away from his kids. And the pressure from his bandmates to keep touring (it's suggested that he has more career options away from the band than they do). Interestingly enough I learned after seeing the film that Lindberg wrote a book about this subject a few years ago. I just picked up Punk Rock Dad with the hope that it will delve more into the details I'm most curious about.

Fundamentally, The Other F Word misses the opportunity to go deep into how they deal with being the authority figure when they've spent all the time saying fuck you to the man. But now they are the man. If they would have just followed up more on some of the best anecdotes it would have been a much more engaging film. Such as the dad who describes accidentally showing up for a school meeting with a "Fuck the Police" t-shirt. Or the observation by Fat Mike of NOFX that some parenting issues may be different when there's a dominatrix sporting a ball-gag tattooed the length of your arm.

Bottom line -- interesting for the peek into their private lives. There are seriously cute moments like Flea recounting embarrassing his daughter and seriously touching/painful ones with Art Alexakis of Everclear describing his own childhood. So it's worth watching if you're interested in the the music or musicians. I just exited disappointed it didn't deliver more insight into the questions the film's premise (and marketing) so clearly point to.

A full list of the dads along with brief bios can be found on the film's website.

{The Other F Word opened in Seattle on Friday, 11/18, and is screening at the Landmark Varsity theatre}

Experience the joyfully caustic, refreshingly cantankerous Fran Lebowitz at NWFF {Nov. 4 - 10}

Chris Estey — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 16:24:21 +0000

"Great people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about wine." --Fran Lebowtiz

She is known for the bon mot given as a wicked mistress of wit. But it's really about: "A bomb just exploded!" This is how Fran Lebowitz wants New York Times articles to begin, when they're about, say, bombs exploding in the Middle East or someplace -- instead of three paragraphs of fluffy narrative, leading into human interest story pabulum. She wants urgency in getting to the facts, perhaps as much as she craves the truth. Which she herself, as she says during one of the many interviews that make up Martin Scorcese's documentary on her, may be the only one capable of delivering unbiased. Is she yanking our chain?

Maybe. But the dialogue Lebowtiz is having with us in Public Speaking actually goes pretty far in convincing me that she is a walking human bullshit detector; smoking her cigarettes, having a drink, driving her rare Checker car in of all places her beloved New York City (where few dare own an auto), yet fearing gasoline ("it can explode!"), and forever shaking her tiny fists at tourists (both physical and cultural). The cab is a subtle off-color, "that most heterosexual men simply call white."

Though her own output as a journalist is limited to two collections of her wickedly shrewd and devilishly funny comic essays (Metropolitan Life and Social Studies), as well as a Reader of her various freelance articles, and a children's book, Lebowitz is a cultural icon: she is shorthand for critically minded cultural artistocracy. (Though she is vicariously democratic, politically. Let the people have their rights, but keep the hoi polloi out of important things like arts: "Very few people possess true artistic ability. It is therefore both unseemly and unproductive to irritate the situation by making an effort. If you have a burning, restless urge to write or paint, simply eat something sweet and the feeling will pass.")

When she was a young Jewish girl in New Jersey getting in trouble for reading too much (of what she wanted to read, not the mathematics or whatever was foisted on her by institutions: "Stand firm in your refusal to remain conscious during algebra. In real life, I assure you, there is no such thing as algebra") she became a huge fan of cultural provocateur James Baldwin. She moved from the sticks when she was young to slack about the city and earn enough money, as say, a cab driver, in order to hang out with friends (most of them gay).

This is society to her -- making only enough cash to be able to pay the rent, and then smoke and chatter and finding creativity through those conversations with pals. That is what makes director Scorcese's movie so genius -- he expertly uses lots of different segments of interview footage (much with pal Toni Morrison but also fellow 70s rock write milieu scribe Lisa Robinson), yet Lebowitz quips and terrorizes and burns brightly sitting in a bar with a couple of bevvies before her. She is well known for her writer's block, which she has set aside the diagnosis of as no longer even desiring to try to conquer. But her talent with words is so great the 83:13 of this doc go by like several energizing seconds of illumination. It was the best way I spent an afternoon in a long time. Public Speaking just gives and gives and gives, intellectually and even emotionally -- it might make you feel human again after so many years of TV dumb-downing and dreary blog-reading.

On a personal note, I must admit that I had a mad crush on Lebowitz when I was a fifteen year old boy (which she would have been horrified by, I'm sure, loathing children as she does; yet "children are the most desirable opponents at scrabble as they are both easy to beat and fun to cheat"). I fantasized about being her personal assistant, fetching her a whiskey or books to study as she typed out another stinging essay. I was very pleased to see my nostalgia for her is replaced by newfound joy and respect for her current state. I'm sorry she is unable to keep at what Burroughs called "the Job," but she's never looked better, never sounded more aware of society than she does in the most current clips in this film -- and she is neither a "dedicated follower of fashion," nor owns a cell phone, computer, or even a microwave. ("Can they text with microwaves now? I wouldn't even know.") And yet the candor and creativity of her mind can take you to places status and technology simply can't. Makes you wonder about what we consider "cultural resources" to really be.

Public Speaking runs from 11/4 - 11/10 at the NWFF. Martin Scorsese, 2011, USA, DigiBeta, 82min.

"Great people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about wine." --Fran Lebowtiz

The Skin I Live In

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 22:02:19 +0000

{The Skin I Live In opened in Seattle on Friday, November 4, and is screening at The Egyptian Theater and Lincoln Square Cinemas}

Horror overtones, debatable black comedy, and maybe a fair amount of yuck/ewwww mash together to create a memorable -- if not altogether compelling -- mix in the latest film by Pedro Almodóvar. Starring Antonio Banderas and Elena Anaya, the visuals are as luscious and darkly seductive as ever. To some, Almodovar's latest will be a fascinating character study, stuffed with multiple interpretations ranging from sexual identity to how grief can drive you crazy. To others, maybe more a technically-gifted piece of filmmaking that's less emotionally engaging than it could be.

Personally I'm in that latter group. Still worth a look for Almodóvar fans - unless you really want to avoid films about doctors conducting immoral experiments on gorgeous people of indeterminate origin. In which case, stick with Harold & Kumar this weekend. Not that those tastes are mutually exclusive.

There are some people you should not cross, even accidentally. How many are plastic surgeons I won't venture to guess. The Skin I Live In certainly makes a compelling case that the overlap between those populations is particularly scary. The picture is difficult to talk about without spoiling some of the ups and downs, so I will do my best to be especially vague.

The film starts with a surgeon traumatized by a wife who was burned to death -- who's conducting a series of experiments egged on by that trauma. Assisted by a pretty low bar with respect to scruples. There's a woman locked in a gilded cage and a faithful housekeeper who keeps more secrets than he knows. Plus a fully equipped home surgical theater he spends each evening huddled away in. Hopefully you're getting the point that this isn't for a light night out with a first date. Unless you're a high stakes player. Heck, if you both love it, you might have something worth keeping.

As the film begins, we learn of the woman Banderas has living in a locked room of his estate. Watched constantly by video surveillance, she's a daily part of his life. Why she's there is unclear, but bits begin to reveal themselves slowly. He's doing some cutting edge (and likely unethical) medical research into skin replacement, that we get soon enough. I'd also suggest he's mentally a prisoner of something else that reveals even more slowly.

The picture is consistently beautiful to look at, often in a dark unsettling way. There's the lush Spanish villa where Banderas lives and works part time. The woman locked in a room doing yoga and clad only in a full body stocking. Almodóvar sets up an internal world where staged representations appear to be reality and the real world often appears as to be sporting a mask. Seen quite directly as Banderas views a life sized image of his prisoner on a video monitor as if she was in bed next to him. The film toys with identity, its malleable nature, and the pain suppressing it can cause. There's a beauty is truth line in there somewhere I'm sure - a smarter viewer would see it right away.

The film takes many of the themes Almodóvar has played and makes them extraordinarily literal. It's an interesting picture to watch. Though without a character I really cared about, I never felt properly emotionally invested. The outcomes laid out were certainly horrific for all involved. But my horror felt clinically detached. Though it's got a grown man who appears from nowhere in a tiger costume, and turns out to be related to everyone six ways from Sunday, then proceeds to perpetrate a violent crime of a sexual nature...all without being a large part of the story. So it's certainly not a run of the mill flick.

My issues with the film are rooted more in the script and story than in the actors. Banderas is perfectly cast in this reuinion with Almodóvar. Elena Anaya strongly owns her mysterious character as well. It wasn't until after the film that I started to remember where I'd seen her before. Amusingly that shred of clothing she wears in The Skin I'm In threw me as I'd seen her last in Room in Rome. Seems I didn't recognize her with so much in the way of clothes on. Thankfully, this was a more engaging turn than in the earlier picture which a SIFF audience member memorably titled the "Bataan Death March of lesbian sex films."

I didn't hate The Skin I'm In. I was just left feeling more flat that I've become used to with Pedro Almodóvar. I always respect films that try to really take chances. This qualifies, given it's beyond unusual path to an optimistic conclusion that maybe you can go home again. Because the right family will accept you regardless of your exterior. If you're a fan of Almador I'm sure you'll want to go. I just can't say it's one of his best.

{The Skin I Live In opened in Seattle on Friday, November 4, and is screening at The Egyptian Theater and Lincoln Square Cinemas}

Tower Heist

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 18:14:36 +0000

{Tower Heist opened in Seattle on Friday, November 4 and is playing at the Metro, The Meridian, The Majestic Bay, and Thornton Place Theaters}

There are a lot of reasons to suspect Tower Heist may be the latest overly engineered star-vehicle that seriously screws up a beloved beloved genre for a new generation of fans. There are occasional moments of excessive seriousness (all involving Ben Stiller). Plus a few spots where things threaten to stall. But in the end, it's an entertaining romp that's worth a look. I know - I couldn't believe it either. Almost makes me want to go double or nothing next week with the new Adam Sandler flick. Hey, I said almost....

Tower Heights certainly has some laughs, but overall I felt it owed more to the heist genre than that of slapstick comedy. An allegiance the film declares from the start with soothingly familiar "we're up to no good music". Trust me - you'll know it when you hear it. It's definitely a positive sign. You can think of it as one of the Ocean's 11 films - perhaps with less attractive people. With Casey Affleck in the mix to force the comparison.

Josh Kovacs (Ben Stiller) is the service manager of a swank Manhattan condo building refered to as The Tower. The sort of place where the low end apartments are still in the millions and the staff is attentive enough to remind you to sneak your high end call-girl out the back when the wife returns early. Without you having to ask. Stiller is the amazing ringleader of this crew keeping things humming while still being beloved by everyone. At the top of the building's pyramid is Arthur Shaw (Alan Alda) the penthouse resident asshole. Which we're not so subtly reminded of from the opening moments when he emerges from his rooftop swimming pool with a hundred dollar mural on the bottom. As it turns out, Alda is one of them wall street creeps who does something very unpleasant and likely equally illegal to Stiller and his work family. Resulting in Stiller organizing a break-in to Alda's penthouse apartment in the name of financial justice.

Stiller's unlikely crew includes his brother in law (Casey Affleck), a homeless former tenant of The Tower (a puffy ~~Mr Gadget~~ Mathew Broderick), the building's elevator operator and online Devry graduate Enrique (Michael Pena), and Slide (Eddie Murphy). Murphy is selected for his purported skills as a thief, or more accurately the only criminal type Stiller knows. Rounding out the cast of characters are a broad range of well delivered but pretty stereotyped NYC hotel staff roles. Got to admit its great to see Gabourey Sidibe of Precious renown onscreen. For her fans, there's also a bit of Tea Leoni as hard- drinking, Queens native FBI agent. All in all everyone seems well cast and delivers what they need to move the film along.

Most notably, it's nice to see the old. "I'm gonna whoop yo ass" Murphy back, albeit restrained by the PG-13 format. Even if his role is smaller than the trailer would have you believe. I'm normally quick to point out how annoying Ben Stiller can be. While he doesn't fully escape the well of my personal prejudices Stiller is a good match for the role. Not a perfect human being he's believable as a nice guy pushed too far. To the extent that any part of the movie is believable. Plausibility is not really what Tower Heist is going for. Accepting that the mix of humor and self interested Robin Hood hijinks worked for me. The film drags a bit at times around the mid-section. It may also spend more time than required in setting up the bad guy. Not to mention the carefully arrayed arsenal of Chekov's guns dragged out in the final act.

These are minor quibbles as for most of picture I was enjoying either the camaraderie of the actors or the heist sequence. The last segment generates flashes of peril (and occasional vertigo) that I didn't at all expect. As improbably ended as many such flicks Tower Heist was still pretty satisfying. All in all I think it's worth checking out if you want something light with a slight fuck the system flavor (which seems in the spirit of the times).

The only question I have about the film is what Roman Polanski contributed to earn a thanks in the end credits...anyone?

{Tower Heist opened in Seattle on Friday, November 4 and is playing at the Metro, The Meridian, The Majestic Bay, and Thornton Place Theaters}

Janie Jones

Imaginary Amie — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 20:32:58 +0000

{Janie Jones opens in Seattle on Friday, 10/28 and is screening at SIFF Cinema at The Uptown}

There are no shortage of films dealing with estranged father/daughter relationships, especially in the indie realm - so I was naturally a bit apprehensive about taking a look at Janie Jones: the story of a selfish rocker who gets his 13-year-old daughter dumped directly into his lap.

But! This one has a fantastic cast - Abigail Breslin as the daughter, Janie; Elisabeth Shue as her junkie mom, Alessandro Nivola (rawwwrrrr) as her struggling rock star dad, and a great back-up cast with Peter Stormare, Joel David Moore, Brittany Snow, and Frank Whaley (I will heart this guy forever because of Career Opportunities).

Anyway, it turned out to be alright, mainly because Ms. Breslin has some pretty amazing pipes (who knew?).

Trainwreck of a mom Mary-Ann (Shue) piles her daughter Janie into a car so she can finally meet her "famous" rock star dad, Ethan Brand (Nivola). Except, you know, when they get to the bar, it turns out that Ethan didn't know anything about his daughter…and honestly, doesn't even remember Mary-Ann. After she proposes that he take care of Janie while she "goes to rehab", Ethan says some pretty cruel shit to her, which then causes her to bail and leave her daughter a bar in the middle of nowhere.

Janie (who is, of course, wise beyond her years) calls the cops, but when they get there it's revealed that Ethan's name is on the birth certificate, so between that and some clever manipulation from the cop that arrives ("She'll be put in crappy foster care for the rest of her life, man!"), it's decided that Janie will join the band on the rest of the tour. Yeah, I thought was pretty far-fetched also, but ok.

Nobody thinks this is a good idea, except Janie…kind of. Because everyone knows Ethan is a giant narcissistic asshole whose fame faded long ago, and who is drinking his way through every performance until he gets to his precious: a coveted spot at SXSW.

And then, surprise! It turns out that Janie is a musician too - and quite a good one. Which simultaneously fills Ethan with pride and jealously. After a drunken outburst, the rest of the band packs it in, leaving Ethan and Janie on their own. Queue the father/daughter road-trip bonding!

There are a few surprises along the way, but of course this ends up exactly the way you're thinking. I'd still recommend seeing it - if only for a nice, pretty, cinematic piece with some really sold acting. And those pipes! Breslin can really sing, I mean REALLY. SING. It's so weird to look at her in this film and realize that the goofy little girl in Little Miss Sunshine is all grows up.

I wonder how long it will be before she releases an album?

{Janie Jones opens in Seattle on Friday, 10/28 and is screening at SIFF Cinema at The Uptown}

Anyway, it turned out to be alright, mainly because Ms. Breslin has some pretty amazing pipes (who knew?).

Martha Marcy May Marlene

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 16:03:55 +0000

{Martha Marcy May Marlene opens in Seattle on Friday, October 28, and is screening at the Landmark Guild 45th theater}

If you ask Sean Durkin the writer/director of Martha Marcy May Marlene (hereafter MMMM) about the film, he's likely to describe it as documenting the psychological recovery of a recently escaped member of a cult. Given it's his film I shouldn't be one to argue. But my perspective is a bit different, viewing it as a suspense-thriller/horror film masquerading as a psychological drama. The fact that both views are equally legitimate is part of the genius of the film.

That combined with the strong performance by Elizabeth Olsen in the lead role of Martha goes a long way towards explaining the accolades MMMM has been earning since Sundance this January. While my partial detachment from the goings on keep me from giving it my highest rating, it's certainly worth checking out.

The film begins in the present with Martha making an early morning escape out of a countryside compound. There are no physical blockers to her exit, neither high walls nor ferocious dogs. There's some pursuit, but by the end it doesn't feel that that full-hearted an effort. Over the course of the film we see how strong a physic barrier existed between Martha and exiting the compound she lived in. As hard as it is for her - escape to town she does. After a pained phone call, she makes her way to her sister's house. The escape is near wordless and sets up the remainder of the story well. With Martha both fearing the group she left, and longing to return.

Free of the cult Martha's adjustment period is tough. Once safely with family she's told to get a good night's sleep and, "You'll be as good as new tomorrow." But it's not going to be that simple. Several hours away from physical peril, that distance is much shorter in her mind. Whether the group poses her a true danger or not is something the film constantly teases with.

On one hand, Martha was confronted by one of the members before leaving and no one stopped her. On the other hand - well, there are the flashbacks showing the manipulation she went through, and some of the less than positive experiences she was part of.

Martha's journey is told both in the present day and in flashback, roughly divided equally between the two periods. Durkin brings a naturalistic style throughout the picture that works well both in the present and flashback. His visual presentation is an integral part of the storytelling. Particularly noteworthy is the smoothness of transitions between flashbacks and current day. They're almost imperceptible at times until you realize the shift of view has changed. It's not easy to describe but it strongly immerses the viewer into Martha's perspective.

Those flashbacks move forward in time as well, demonstrating the cult's indoctrination of Martha. Their methods of manipulative mind fuckery won't be unfamiliar to those who've read a bit on such things (or seen other onscreen depictions). Yet the treatment of the group feels contemporary depicting them as new-age organic/green neo-hippies who under the leadership of charismatically creepy Patrick (John Hawkes) have gone terribly, terribly wrong. We're talking a penchant for ceremonial rape, handguns, an over reliance on guitar picking, and the occasional home invasion. These guys are seriously creepy. Just to propose a rule of thumb - when group accepted rape or overly serious discussions of "cleansing" start it's time to go.

As Martha recovers in her sister and new hubbie's high-end vacation home she's dealing with the traumatic memories. But she's also struggling through a strained relationship with the couple. They love her, but really don't know how to deal with her. Nor how upset to be that she just disappeared without any contact a couple of years back. There's also some unusual behavior exhibited by Martha, by their standards. The moods, the random arguments and the jumping into their bed as they're having sex. Scenes in the present are more positive than those in the past, but there's always the darkness lurking. Is the cult coming to get her, or are the demons she faces her own? I'll leave it to you to find out. When it's over, I think it's worth noting how Durkin allows pieces to enter the story that support any of several theories of the plot post screening.

None of this would work without the deeply natural feeling performance by Olsen. While there are solid performances throughout, her powers to articulate through her face and body the storms in her mind are what make the film work. With roles prior to 2011 being limited to appearances in projects with her more famous twin sisters this is truly a break out performance. It was striking to meet her the day after the screening. The high energy, bright bubbly and sweet young woman I spoke with couldn't be more different than the role. I truly look forward to her future work. John Hawkes is perfectly cast as the Svengali of the group. The overall cast executes their roles effectively as well.

For all the positives in technical execution and acting skill there are some caveats worth noting. This is not a film that will satisfy those with a need for unambiguous resolution. I didn't mind that, but relative to the story I have to admit I personally walked out with a bit of a "so what" feeling. It was interesting to watch and observe what happened to Martha. But at the same time I didn't really feel a sense of affinity for the characters, nor learn something truly new. Except perhaps the conviction that if a family member shows up after years of silence and acts super-unusual getting them to a shrink is worth prioritizing. As opposed to say finishing your vacation.

All in all I do feel MMMM is worth seeing. It certainly raised tension in a way worthy of a solid psychological thriller. At the same time it isn't something I felt I needed to see. But the performances and the visuals raise it a cut above lesser works just trying to tell you about the experience of cult life.

In an interesting side note it's starting to feel like Fox Searchlight is becoming the go-to distributor for interesting cult themed films in 2011. In addition to MMMM they've also snapped up the "other" cult picture from Sundance, Sound of My Voice. While I don't have a review up on that yet (it's patiently awaiting the release) do make a mental note to catch that when it comes out. It's sort of fantastic.

{Martha Marcy May Marlene opens in Seattle on Friday, October 28, and is screening at the Landmark Guild 45th theater}

Love Crime

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 17:08:51 +0000

{Love Crime opens in Seattle on Friday, 10/21, and is screening at the Landmark Harvard Exit}

I really don't know anything about the modern French workplace, but from watching Love Crime, it's easy to believe their executive suites exist in a reality derived from 1980's Hollywood films. Meaning their offices are awash with credit-stealing superiors who use fear and insecurity as management tools, sexually predatory female bosses, and employees who snort lines of cocaine off mirrors in their spare time.

Into this world steps Isabelle (Ludivine Sagnier) a brilliant beautiful blond obsessive who is willing to make her boss Christine (Kristin Scott Thomas) look good no matter what...as long as she gets some love in return. It's been an issue since childhood for her. Even if we hadn't gotten the basis for Christine's ongoing manipulation, the film helpfully has Isabelle blurt it out in an early scene as she's thrillingly sharing lipstick with Christine.

If it has one, that's the problem with the film. There's a mix of completely unsubtle emotional manipulation that feels less than fresh. At the same time, the film is a mostly competent psychological revenge flick that certainly does have its moments. And both Kristine Scott Thomas and Ludivine Sagnier are more than a little compelling to watch onscreen.

The first half which sets up Isabelle's problems is, while not entirely new, somewhat more interesting than the second half of the film. Once things move past the midway point, there are noirish twists and turns galore as Isabelle has decided she's had enough of things. The conclusion may leave some viewers feeling that her plans falling into place perfectly might be a bit too tidy. Though for me sometimes it's just nice when a film keeps things on the side of obvious that lets me feel superior for figuring out part of the plot. That may have left me in a more forgiving mood and from speculating why exactly she thought the plan was so sure to work. Which, given even a small miscalculation, it would not have.

As it turns out, Hollywood has already targeted the film for a remake. Presumably they'll remove the part about the American parent company being alternatively clueless and overly impressed with their Paris division. My suggestion is catch it now (or in subsequent video release). Revel in the over-the-top themes and acting, and treat it like the trashy guilty pleasure that it is. Those things always sound better in French anyway. At least as far as I'm concerned.

{Love Crime opens in Seattle on Friday, 10/21, and is screening at the Landmark Harvard Exit}

Moneyball

Imaginary Rich — Fri, 23 Sep 2011 15:56:56 +0000

{Moneyball opens in Seattle-area theaters on Friday, September 23rd}

May as well get this out of the way upfront: I'm a big fan of the books of Michael Lewis from Liar's Poker to The Big Short. In part because he's able to induce fascination in topics I generally couldn't care less about. Moneyball, his book that was ostensibly about baseball, was one I couldn't put down. Which is really saying something, as I'm probably one of the only people who (on the rare occasions I've been dragged there) when attending a baseball game, has brought a book. You know - so I would have something interesting to do during the game.

It's in part due to the talents of Mr. Lewis that I liked Moneyball so much - but it probably didn't hurt that it's only tangentially (in my view) about baseball and more about what can happen when quantitative thinking runs smack into truthiness. Even if you're not as ~~personally obsessed with~~ nerdy about that sort of thing as I, who doesn't like to watch the little guy get the edge on the big fat cats? And that's one of the several aspects of the non-fiction book by Lewis that transfers effectively to the big screen. Oh, and director Bennet Miller actually makes a visually rich piece out of what could easily have been a strictly dialog based endeavor. So yeah - I think this is one worth seeing.

The based-on-a-true-story centers around Billy Beane (played by Brad Pitt), the general manager of the Oakland A's. They're a smaller market team that doesn't have the big budget required to buy whichever player they want. Without salary caps of re-distribution of league funds, the playing field within baseball is fundamentally unlevel. Hence those with the most money to spend are viewed as the inevitable winners on the field.

But Bean really, really hates to lose. He's a smart man, having turned down Stanford in exchange for the chance to play pro ball. Not to mention a skeptic regarding baseball scouting orthodoxy. In part from professional learnings but also it would appear from his own unsuccessful experience as a teenager entering the game. So when it's time to rebuild his team after they're drained by richer owners, he has got to find a better way. Beane's expression of that learning is introduced in a great scene where he challenges the room of grizzled old scouts on how they do what they claim to do (i.e. identify talent). For example, suggesting they need to move beyond evaluating opportunities by the hotness of a prospect's girlfriend. Not necessarily because he has a better way, but because innately he understands that to unseat a larger, better funded competitor he needs to do something disruptive.

Billy has identified his problem but struggles to find a solution. Until he and Peter Brand (Jonah Hill), an economics grad trying to work baseball as a quantitative problem, meet. There's near immediate recognition that he's found a secret weapon. Brand is transplanted to Oakland as the new assistant GM to the Oakland A's and proceeds to help rebuild his team. They put together a group of misfits that traditional scouting has written off. But they all do something well - they get on base. They may look weird doing it, or be a bit older -- but they get on base, which translates into scoring runs. And scoring runs wins games. Makes sense right?

The pair quickly run headfirst into the truism that logic and quantitative facts are often less persuasive than one would hope. Especially as Upton Sinclair famously pointed out: "it is difficult to get a man to understand something, when his salary depends upon his not understanding it." But Beane doesn't have a choice, so he takes his knowledge of the game and plays it hard, buying up what he perceives as undervalued assets at bargain basement prices. The rest is history...or at least a book by Michael Lewis, and this movie.

The performances are all solid, and the casting is a good match for the roles. From Pitt to Hill to the pain-in-the-ass team manager Art Howe (Phillip Seymour Hoffman), each actor is well selected for the script. Director Miller weaves in camera viewpoint very effectively as a tool of the storytelling. Most notably taking the viewer inside some uncomfortable meetings by shooting directly over the shoulder of people in the room. Not to mention lots of closed quarters shots within the back office/locker rooms within the ballpark.

It's an entertaining film, with lots of snappy dialog and some good examples of critical thinking woven in. I'd worried about the treatment of future Lewis books after The Blind Side came to theaters with some of the most interesting parts ripped out. Not that I disliked that film for what it was, but Moneyball was well-acted, visually notable, and kept up the core points from book. Oh - and if you like baseball, I'm assuming that aspect will be interesting as well. Even though unlike me (whose memory of the book's sporting outcome was hazy), you likely know how this story ends.

{Moneyball opens in Seattle-area theaters on Friday, September 23rd}

Higher Ground

Imaginary Amie — Fri, 09 Sep 2011 15:21:00 +0000

(Higher Ground opened in Seattle on Friday, 9/9 and is playing at the Landmark Guild 45th theatre)

I am not religious. Like, even a little bit. So I wasn't sure if I'd dig Vera Farmiga's directing debut, Higher Ground, since it's about a very religious woman. But the thing that grabbed me was the tidbit about said woman having second thoughts. That, and I'll watch Vera Farmiga do just about anything because I think she's amazeballs. Fortunately, this film didn't change that.

Farmiga pulls double duty on and off camera by playing the main character, Corrine. Since the film starts when Corrine's character is young, and then moves quickly into her teenage years, she also geniusly cast her sister (Taissa Farmiga) as her younger self -- and yes, she definitely has the acting chops to pull it off. That's one talented family.

Anyway! Corrine's home life is unsatisfying. So she turns to God to lift her up, and then when her boyfriend gets her preggers, she marries him and they both join this sort of commune-esque religious community and revel in the glory of the Lord together. Or something. But somewhere between the male-dominated rules and bitchy critique from the head wifey, she starts to lose her way, questioning whether to abandon her beliefs—or not.

The kicker is an unforeseen tragedy that happens to her best friend, Annika (played with so much verve by Dagmara Dominczyk that I wanted her to be my real-life Bestie), a vibrant, funny, and unabashedly sexy member of the church that makes no apologies for who she is, and loves her husband's penis as much as she loves God. No amount of praying can safe Annika from her fate, and Corrine's resolve starts to crumble even more.

…and before you can say, “hey, that’s some pretty cliché indie drama plot happenings right there.” Yes, I’ll admit. It is. But something about this movie feels so real, so honest, that it totally and completely works. And it really doesn’t feel cliché at all.

What follows is a heart-wrenching exploration of a lost woman trying to find her place in the world, and her family's struggles with trying to give her the freedom to do just that. Every performance in the film is worthy of applause, and Joshua Leonard as Vera's husband Ethan matches the strength she brings to the screen. The sets and cinematography add to the authentic atmosphere, and the subject matter and script are definitely designed to make you think.

I'm still mulling it over, flipping things in my mind, and trying to make sense of it all. Higher Ground is one of those quiet, thoughtful Indies that comes along every once in awhile--leaving an impression. Recommended for those craving something that will, you know, actually give them some substance. Bravo, Vera. You done good.

(Higher Ground opened in Seattle on Friday, 9/9 and is playing at the Landmark Guild 45th theatre)