TRIBECA 2012: DEADFALL

Addison (Eric Bana) in Deadfall.

Fury on wayward sons

By John Esther

From the writer-director excellent 2007 film, The Counterfeiters, director Stefan Ruzowitzky's American feature wastes little time informing viewers that there is much masculine violence in the cold mountains near the USA-Canada border.

First there is the violent car crash leading to a man's head going through the window. (The only non-white character in the film is killed off first. We have a word for that narrative trope in cultural studies).

Addison (Eric Bana) and his sister, Liza (Olivia Wilde) survive the crash, drenched in a pool of blood, snow and cash. As an officer pulls up to see what is going on, with a southern elocution Addison says to the lawman, "I hope one day you can forgive me" before shooting him multiple times.

Request denied.

Accordingly, Addison and Liza must split up, but not before one gets the feeling he and Liza have a little down south affair going on. But that their daddy's fault, really.

Meanwhile, Jay (Charlie Hunnam), who was once an Olympic-winning boxer, has just been released from prison. Once out he gives a call to his parents. His mom, June (Sissy Spacek), is pretty cool. She wants her boy to come home for Thanksgiving. His dad, Chet (Kris Kristofferson), is not so eager to see his disappointing son.

Jake agrees to his mother's pleas, but he first needs to settle a score. This score is anything but settling and now Jay is making a run for the border. Along the way, Jay meets Liza. They hit it off while Addison is on his little murder spree.

Along with some other characters dealing with similar issues regarding paternal guilt, eventually, predictably and not too convincingly, all meet up in one location for the final showdown. Time for a little redemption through revenge.

Interesting characters snowbound by Zach Dean's debut screenplay, Deadfall has its moments of deep, fleeting poignancy during moments of violence -- like when a little girl tells Addison "you're no angel" as he shoots down another officer; when Chet assures his son "this is your table" after Jay makes his Thanksgiving amends; and watching Hanna's (Kate Mara) terrible luck as she tries to please her misogynistic father (Treat Williams) -- but those moments get buried in yet another bloody tale of American violence and redemption.

NEWPORT BEACH 2012: UNDER AFRICAN SKIES



Paul Simon in Under African Skies.

Sounds of defiance

By Ed Rampell

Joe Berlinger’s complicated two-hour documentary Under African Skies has, on the one hand, a sonorous soundtrack featuring Paul Simon and his African Graceland band. On the other hand, the doc deals with a complex issue: The role of art and politics. When the better half of Simon and Garfunkel flew to Johannesburg to record tracks for an album mixing American pop and the South African sound, he ran afoul of a cultural boycott supported by the U.N. and African National Congress against the tyrannical apartheid regime, enforced in those gloomy days before Nelson Mandela was released from prison.

Twenty five years later Simon reunites with his onetime African bandmates and the doc examines the controversial role Simon played then and its resonance today. In crucial scenes the aging Simon meets one of the ANC revolutionaries who condemned the musician in the 1980s for breaking a boycott intended to strangle the segregationist state. Simon continues to decry the way politicians use artists and insists on the right of talents to express themselves. Who’s right? Having triumphed over apartheid, the ANC activist can afford to be magnanimous.

In any case, the music, featuring Miriam Makeba, Hugh Masekela, Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Simon, etc., is extraordinary, and creates a musical mélange that’s the dialectical opposite of apartheid.         

  



NEWPORT BEACH 2012: CAROL CHANNING

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Carol Channing in Carol Channing: Larger than Life.

Gentlemen prefer talent

By Ed Rampell

Watching Dori Berinstein’s delightful documentary Carol Channing: Larger Than Life is a sheer joy. The now 91-year-old performer who embodied Broadway with her original onstage incarnations of Lorelei Lee in Gentleman Prefer Blondes and the eponymous matchmaker in Hello Dolly! is a force of nature.

This nonfiction biopic traces Channing from her 1921 birth into a Christian Science family in Seattle and upbringing in San Francisco to her debut onstage, TV appearances from Steve Allen to Laugh In, and movie career. In addition to the ever hilarious Channing herself, the doc’s talking heads include Betty Garrett, Jerry Herman, Lily Tomlin, Bruce Vilanch, Tommy Tune, etc. Channing’s second husband, Harry Kullijian-- a childhood sweetheart who reappeared late in life -- co-stars. (However, the film sweeps under the carpet Channing’s disastrous long first marriage and how her career conflicted with motherhood.)

You don’t have to be a fan of Channing or of musical theater to be swept away by this feel good ode to the Great White Way’s eternal nightingale. Cinema wasn’t the medium that most favored the entertainer with those flying saucer eyes, lips as red as Dorothy’s ruby slippers and blonde tresses -- Marilyn Monroe and Barbra Streisand portrayed Lorelei and Dolly onscreen. But this doc finally makes Channing -- Oscar-nominated for 1967’s Thoroughly Modern Millie-- the movie star she deserves to be, too.      

  

NEWPORT BEACH 2012: WORTH THE WEIGHT



LaShawna (Constance Reese) and Miles (Tommy Snider) in Worth the Weight.

Fat chance

By Ed Rampell

Worth the Weight is in the tradition of Paddy Chayefsky’s 1955  film, Marty, a realistic look at love among ordinary people. Like Ernest Borgnine as the Bronx butcher in that Best Picture Oscar winner, Robbie Kaller plays a meaty plebian character yearning for romance. Sam is a washed up university athlete whose football injury put the kibosh on his NFL and college aspirations, leading to enormous weight gain and an unglamorous bowling alley career.

Weighing an estimated 411 Sam enters into a weight loss contest with his roommate and friends where he also meets Cassie (Jillian Leigh), an attractive trainer (not “a coach!”) at “Fat Cutters.” Leigh renders an intriguing character study, as a young woman ensnared in an unsatisfying romance with pretentious poet Stephan (Bryan Bellamo), who contrasts sharply with the earthy, good natured Sam. What’s a woman to do?

This romantic comedy’s supporting cast includes Constance Reese as LaShawna, who lights up every scene she’s in as the girlfriend of quirky Miles (Tommy Snider). Coincidentally, Reese portrayed Michelle Obama in a musical about the First Family -- this film’s theme is a perfect fit for the First Lady’s anti-obesity campaign.

Director Ryan Sage’s feature debut, which won the Beverly Hills Film Festival’s Audience Award, is also an excellent example of low budget indies shot with DV cameras.



TRIBECA 2012: JACK AND DIANE

Jack (Riley Keough) and Diane (Juno Temple) in Jack and Diane.

Eaten by the monster of love


By Don Simpson


Here is a little ditty about Jack (Riley Keough) and Diane (Juno Temple)… When Jack and Diane’s eyes first meet, it is love at first sight. Their chemistry is electric until… After staying out all night with Jack, Diane is grounded by her aunt (Cara Seymour). Knowing that she must attend a summer fashion program in Paris in a few weeks, Diane does not let her punishment stop her from spending time with Jack. The problem is Diane never told Jack that this is just a temporary visit.


Bradley Rust Gray’s Jack and Diane is an overtly metaphoric study of young love. Just as the Zoe Kazan character from Gray’s The Exploding Girl expresses her emotions by way of convulsive seizures, the love between Jack and Diane is so explosive that it causes blood to gush from various orifices and prompts a recurring dream about a horrific, organ-devouring beast. The strength of Jack and Diane is in its normal representation of the love between two, polar opposite teenage girls. Temple’s uber-girlie Diane is far from Hollywood’s stereotypical lesbian while Keough’s boyish representation of Jack is much more in line with what Hollywood has taught us about lesbians.

TRIBECA 2012: ANY DAY NOW

A scene from Any Day Now.

Cumming Undone

By Don Simpson

Set in Los Angeles, 1979 and inspired by a true story, Any Day Now follows the trials and tribulations of a gay couple who fight for custody of a teenager with Down syndrome.

Paul (Garret Dillahunt) is a straight-laced, closeted deputy district attorney who falls in love with Rudy (Alan Cumming), a flamboyant, lip syncing drag queen. When Rudy's drug-addled neighbor abandons her son, Marco (Isaac Leyva), Rudy takes in the Down syndrome teen; then, while petitioning for custody of Marco, Paul takes in Rudy and Marco to provide them with more stability. (In an effort to remain in the closest, Paul tells everyone that Rudy
is his cousin.)

It is not long before Paul, Rudy and Marco are a happy nuclear family. For the first time in his life, Marco has loving and nurturing parents. He even begins to flourish in school. But it is also not long before Paul and Rudy find themselves in court, fighting for their parental rights once again.

At the root of Any Day Now is an unwavering message of treating everyone equally, despite their sexuality, gender, ethnicity, economic status or medical condition; and writer-director Travis Fine even practices what he preaches in the production of Any Day Now. Being that Hollywood prefers to cast
straight actors in gay roles, it is refreshing to see an openly gay actor (Cumming) get the lead in Any Day Now -- an inspiring performance that is one of the best of his career. It is equally impressive that Fine casts an actor with Down syndrome (Isaac Leyva) to portray Marco.

TRIBECA 2012: BROKE

Andre Rison in Broke.

Showing the money

By John Esther

A rather straightforward and somewhat repetitive work-in-progress documentary, Billy Corben’s Broke is a about spending more than you have – even when you have millions of dollars.

Unlike (other) hoarders of the one percent, when professional athletes come into huge sums of money they spend it as fast, or faster, than they earn it. An estimated 78 percent of NFL players are broke after three years of retirement and 60 percent of NBA players are broke after five years. Often rising from areas unaccustomed to great sums of wealth and thrown into a macho culture where money equals might, NFL players  like NFL quarterback Bernie Kosar, NBA small forward Jamal Mashburn and dozens of other professional athletes had no idea how to handle his (no examples of females were given other than parental financial abuse) sudden entry into wealth. Multiple houses, multiple cars, multiple baby mamas, and way too many kids, plus countless moochers, schemers, strip clubs, painkillers, and Janus-faced friends and family members sucked the mass cash out of the earner’s hands.

Consisting mostly of talking heads of the "victims" of overspending, the latest documentary by Corben (Cocaine Cowboys; Limelight) is more of a cautionary tale about letting materialism run amuck than a tale of tragic woe-begone for the big men and their money. The strength of Broke reminds us that if those great professional athletes making millions are vulnerable to poverty than who is not. Spend some, save some. It does not last.

TRIBECA 2012: BALLROOM DANCER

Vyacheslav "Slavik" Kryklyvyy in Ballroom Dancer.

Dancing with tears in his thighs

By Don Simpson

Vyacheslav “Slavik” Kryklyvyy is an award-winning ballroom dancer who comes out of a long retirement to compete alongside Ania Melnikova, a much younger female partner with whom he is also in a relationship. Christian Bonke and Andreas Koefoed’s keenly observational documentary, Ballroom Dancer, proceeds to discuss the tug of war between age and competitiveness, when one’s body can no longer keep up with the lofty ego of one’s self. Kryklyvyy may prance around like a peacock, but in actuality he is no longer in control of his own destiny. It used to be that Kryklyvyy could do whatever he wanted on the dance floor, but now Kryklyvyy’s 34-year-old body is holding him back.

Along the same lines, Kryklyvyy’s partners used to obey his every whim. But modern women -- including Melnikova -- are less inclined to put up with his patronizing and machismo attitude. It is as if Kryklyvyy has been in a time-capsule for most of his retirement. And since Kryklyvyy last stepped out on the dance floor, the roles of men and women have changed.

Pushing onward despite innumerable hurdles, Kryklyvyy must face frustration and depression head-on. Kryklyvyy is still great, but will he ever be the greatest? Will Kryklyvyy ever be able to consider something less than number one to be a success?

TRIBECA 2012: SLEEPLESS NIGHT

Vincent (Tomer Sisley) and Vignali (Lizzie Brocheré) in Sleepless Night.

Dust to windbag

By Don Simpson

In the time span of a brutally intense 24 hours — including a sleepless night for everyone involved in the film — director Frédéric Jardin’s taut thriller, Sleepless Night begins with a drug heist gone horribly awry and snowballs into a relentless powerhouse of non-stop action from that point onward. In a tale in which there are very few good guys and countless shades of baddies, it is difficult to surmise where the protagonist, Vincent (Tomer Sisley), falls.

Vincent possesses a bag of cocaine that was stolen from two cronies employed by a local drug lord named Marciano (Serge Riaboukine). Marciano kidnaps Vincent’s son and offers Vincent a trade — the boy for the cocaine. Left with no other choice, Vincent makes his way to Marciano’s labyrinthine discothèque called Le Tarmac with no plan, only the overwhelming parental desire to save his son.

Vincent spends a majority of the film in a hopeless cat-and-mouse game with two drug lords, their minions, and at least two police officers. An assortment of nightclub staff and patrons are also engulfed into the tornado of fisticuffs — early on, Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust” throbs from the sound system to serve as a precursor of what is to come. Dust will be bitten, you can be certain of that. Party people saturate every orifice of Le Tarmac as the block rockin’ beats blend seamlessly with the non-stop pummeling of flesh and shattering of bones. The intensity — and length — of some of the fight scenes is almost laughable, especially when we see the same characters moving around as if unscathed one scene later.

TRIBECA 2012: JACKPOT

A scene from Jackpot.

Murder after numbers

By John Esther

In the opening scene of Jackpot (Arme Riddere), a trio of drunken idiots walks right into the door of a strip joint near the Norway-Sweden border, only to be blown out the window by gunfire. Mayhem and murder ensues with only one survivor, Oscar (Kyrre Hellum), to bare true/false testimony.

Primarily using an interrogation scene to drive director Magnus Martens’ film, we learn – in ways reminiscent of The Treasure of Sierra Madre, Memento, The Usual Suspects and Fargo  -- Oscar and his ex-con co-workers at a plastic Christmas tree factory legally come into a large sum of money. Unfortunately, money can destroy the best of victories, especially ones among thieves.

Violent, predictable and splattered with morose humor, if you are willing to suspend disbelief back to the days before DNA testing, this Norwegian holiday tale, written by Jo Nesbø (Headhunters), makes for moderate, middlebrow entertainment. The film’s strongest suits are Lina Nordqvist's excellent production design andthe performances from its cast, including Hellum, Henrik Mestad as an arrogant detective, Mads Ousdal as Oscar’s lifelong buddy and Fridtjov Saheim as a crooked ex-cop.

TRIBECA 2012: HIGH TECH, LOW LIFE

A scene from High Tech, Low Life.

Undercover brothers

By Don Simpson

Similar to Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry, Stephen Maing’s High Tech, Low Life looks at the Chinese government’s tyrannical control over the dissemination of information; but whereas Alison Klayman conveys the message(s) of her documentary via the perspective of a provocative multimedia artist, Maing utilizes two bloggers who achieve a similar goal with drastically different approaches.

Zola is a cocky young blogger who represents the “new guard” of Chinese revolutionaries. His unassuming appearance allows him to pass as just another bystander taking photos, rather than attracting attention to himself as a journalist. Zola’s goal is to document newsworthy events and tell the truth before the government has a chance to cover-up the facts. He then relies upon his notoriety and fame to communicate the truth to the legions of loyal fans who follow his blog.

Tiger Temple is part of the “old guard” of Chinese revolutionaries. He functions as an investigative reporter, interviewing people in order to document the ways in which they have been wronged by their government. Whereas Zola just blogs about events, Tiger Temple goes beyond just blogging. He actively assists his downtrodden subjects in a concerted effort to improve their situation.

Not only does High Tech, Low Life observe the detrimental effects of censorship in China, but it also functions as a smart compare and contrast piece on the ways two different generations attempt to change their situation.

TRIBECA 2012: FIRST WINTER

A scene from First Winter.

Tragically hip

By Don Simpson

At some point in the past, Paul (Paul Manza) convinced some of his cutest female yoga students to travel with him to his secluded farmhouse. It is an extremely cold winter and the power has gone out, thus transporting the utopian household back to a time before heat and electricity. Their cultish lifestyle becomes an adventure for the presumably privileged class, a time to play “hippie commune circa 1969.”

The Brooklyn hipsters continue with business as usual — participating in a daily regimen of yoga and meditation, filling in the remaining hours of the days with sex and drugs. But the promiscuously enlightened air cannot withstand the stresses of time, frigid weather, and tyrannical rationing of food. The restrictive seclusion of the location does not help matters either. Except for a lone radio, there is no connection with the outside world. Their days are numbered but Paul has lulled his flock of housemates into a sheepish state of submission.

What is writer-director Ben Dickinson telling us? Is he metaphorically predicting the demise of Brooklyn hipsters? Has this tight knit, holier-than-thou subculture cut themselves off from reality to the point of no return? Will their carefree lifestyle of yoga, meditation, slow food, and free love bring about their death?

COLCOA 2012: MICHEL PETRUCCIANI

Michel Petrucciani in Michel Petrucciani.

Glassworks

By John Esther

For those who have heard Michel Petrucciani play piano, it a pretty impressive experience. The guy's technique is stunning, a marvelous combination of speed, lightness and joy. But to see him play is something altogether more impressive and that is the best attribute of Michael Radford's documentary, Michel Petrucciani.

Born in 1962 with osteogeneis imperfecta (AKA glass bone disease), Petrucciani's body was highly delicate, prone to fracture. He would never grow taller than three feet and could not walk for most of his life. As the outside world was often too dangerous for the boy, Petrucciani would stay home listening to jazz and playing piano (with a custom food petal) on a constant, and soon, phenomenal level.

It was not long before he started playing with the jazz greats. As his career took off, Petrucciani would spend his time traveling the globe, but much of his short time on earth in Paris, New York and Big Sur where he fully engaged in the party lifestyle of a jazz musician. He was also quite the ladie's man, albeit not much of a monogamous one.

For anyone who knew the basic details of late pianist (he died in 199), not much of the information provided in the documentary will be informative. We get the familiar inspiring narrative of a little kid who could along with the sordid details of the rather hedonistic man, but not much else. For example, what were Petrucciani's opinions regarding art, politics or the second class status society places on people with disabilities? What did he think about rock & roll?

But these ommissions can be overlooked to some degree as Radford (Van Morrison in Irelend) unearths some fantastic footage of a man born just right to play the piano.


Michel Petrucciani screens April 17, 5:30 p.m. at Directors Guild of America. For more information: Petrucciani