FILM FEATURE: DON SIMPSON'S TOP TEN FILMS OF 2013

Jep (Toni Servillo) in The Great Beauty.

One man's opinion is another person's read

By Don Simpson

I have an extremely difficult time ranking films that share no common elements other than they were all shot on a medium that captures both moving images and sound. I guess there are certain basic mechanisms of filmmaking that can be done well or poorly, for the most part it is all just the personal opinion of the critic. I prefer to approach the discussion of cinema in terms of whether or not a certain film works for me; whether it is interesting and stimulating, whether it does something new and exciting with the cinematic medium.

So, below are ten films (in alphabetical order) that reverberated in my mind as the most interesting and/or exciting from 2013.

12 Years a Slave – In his triad of films (Hunger, Shame, 12 Years a Slave) about human pain and suffering, Steve McQueen observes the relationships between punishment and dehumanization. These films are fully immersed, psychological studies of crumbling human fortitude. For American viewers, 12 Years a Slave also packs a crushing wallop of historical guilt, as McQueen’s outsider perspective invites us to learn from our nation’s past mistakes and inform our future with those lessons.

Computer Chess – The ensemble’s propensity for philosophizing is reminiscent of Richard Linklater’s Slacker; but, whereas Linklater’s film ruminates upon the existential crises of humans, Andrew Bujalski’s Computer Chess expounds upon the existential crises of synthetic consciousness. All the while, Bujalski achieves an ultimate level of realism by enlisting a cast of computer savvy actors who at least seem like they know what they’re rambling on about. The production design is the real show-stopper though.

The Great Beauty – Watching The Great Beauty prompts me to daydream about what types of films Federico Fellini would have made in the 21st century. While this particular film owes a great debt to the work of Fellini (specifically La Dolce Vita), the sensory overload of the visuals is much more akin to Baz Luhrmann. Beneath the shock and awe campaign of the assault on the senses, Paolo Sorrentino meditates upon happiness, love, sex, art, aging and death; also contemplating the significance of theology, history, economics and politics in our everyday lives.

Pilgrim Song -- Martha Stephens is never condescending or patronizing of her characters, yet she never romanticizes them either. Stephens casts highly naturalistic actors and places them in scenes alongside real people; she captures their stories as if shooting a documentary, allowing the narratives to breath while unfolding naturally and organically. Her unabashed desire to capture the purist possible realism is akin to the tone, pacing and visual aesthetic of Kelly Reichardt’s Old Joy and Wendy & Lucy. Reichardt is certainly someone with whom Stephens shares a fondness for what has come to be known as “slow cinema.”

The Selfish Giant – Borrowing her film’s title from Oscar Wilde children’s fable, writer-director Clio Barnard utilizes the fantastic milieu of a landscape that is perpetually shrouded in the misty grayness of a fairytale to convey the brutally grim reality of this story. Barnard then uses the social realism techniques of Ken Loach and Alan Clarke to ensure that the audience comprehends the true levels of authenticity within this story.

Short Term 12 – On paper, Short Term 12 may sound like a schlocky, feel-good Hollywood movie and that could not be further from the truth. The scenarios and conversations within Destin Cretton’s film shimmer with a high level of authenticity, due in no small part to the amazing ensemble cast and impeccable writing. Brie Larson, for one, is astounding; proving herself to be one of the most talented twenty-something actors working today.

Stories We Tell – We all tell stories. We all have our own unique perspectives and interpretations of events. There is no absolute Truth. Everything is filtered through the various lenses of our past and present. Director Sarah Polley approaches Stories We Tell knowing full well that stories are just that: stories.

Sun Don’t Shine – Building upon the already nightmarish elements of the narrative, Sun Don’t Shine unfolds with the oblique stream of consciousness of a dream — such as when Terrence Malick-esque voiceovers follow the characters’ thoughts as they are lulled into daydreams by the ephemeral rhythms and patterns of the roadside imagery and the unbearably balmy Florida air. Sun Don’t Shine refuses to abide by a traditional narrative structure; the road movie elements are not used to propel the narrative forward, but to trap Crystal and Leo in a smothering and smoldering incapacious space. Their car is like a prison cell with an ever-changing view of the real/reel world; the car windows function like movie screens, dangling carrots of perceived freedom and success just out of Crystal and Leo’s reach.

Upstream Color – Functioning as writer, director, producer, cinematographer, composer, and editor, Shane Carruth is the epitome of the modern day auteur. No matter how confusing and frustrating Upstream Color may be, there is no denying the amazingly singular artistic vision that produced this film. Echoing the godlike control that is held over the film’s test subjects, Carruth is the grand creator and chief inquisitor of this uniquely cinematic world.

Welcome to Pine Hill – Welcome to Pine Hill provides the most naturally positive portrayal of a black character that I have ever seen dedicated to film — and I am incredibly embarrassed to say that if I knew that a white guy directed Welcome to Pine Hill, I probably would not have even bothered watching it. But the outsider perspective actually works in writer-director Keith Miller’s favor, and it certainly helps matters that he avoids all of Hollywood’s racial stereotypes. Most importantly, Miller does not approach Welcome to Pine Hill as a direct discussion of race; though he understands that our world is far from being colorblind and race-related issues are inescapable.


Honorable mentions: The Act of Killing; After Tiller; Ain’t Them Bodies Saints; All is Lost; Blackfish; Blue Is the Warmest Color; Concussion; Dirty Wars; Frances Ha; Her; In the House; I Used to Be Darker; Mother of George; Mud; Pilgrim Song; Post Tenebras Lux; Simon Killer

 

 

SFF INDIEFEST 2013: BERBERIAN SOUND STUDIO

A scene from Berberian Sound Studio.

Giallo figura magnifico

By Don Simpson

An extremely shy Englishman, Gilderoy (Toby Jones) has just arrived in Italy to essentially become a one-man sound team for The Equestrian Vortex, the latest film by Italian giallo maestro Santini (Antonio Mancino). Up until now, Gilderoy has only worked on English documentaries and children's programs; so Gilderoy approaches his surreal new position like a frightened mouse (an analogy that is visually hinted upon by the juxtaposition of Jones' height with his taller Italian counterparts). A foreigner in many senses of the word, Gilderoy's naiveté is showcased by his lack of understanding of the Italian language as well as his obliviousness to the cinematic language of the giallo genre. What Gilderoy does understand is sound recording, so as long as the perpetually angry Francesco (Cosimo Fusco) agrees to speak English to him, Gilderoy can timidly proceed with the task at hand. From here on out, Gilderoy devotes everything to his work in a fruitless attempt to forget about his homesickness.

As time wears on, Gilderoy’s constant exposure to extreme cinematic violence gnaws away at his psyche until he becomes fully immersed in the graphic images of the film. Berberian Sound Studiowriter-director Peter Strickland cleverly ensures that we never see a single frame from The Equestrian Vortex -- other than the masterful title sequence designed by Julian House; we only ever hear brief audio descriptions of the on-screen scenarios and the over-dubbed dialogue and Foley sounds. This is a purposeful, and effective, statement by Strickland to stress the significance of sound in the giallo genre. With all of the sound recorded in post-production, this creates a very literal disconnection between the sound and image. The deconstruction of the signature giallo sounds is what Strickland cares about the most. For example, in a few absurdly comedic asides, Strickland shows Foley artists re-creating the spine-tingling sounds of stabs, slashes, squashes and splats with a produce market's variety of fruit and vegetables. (Oh, yes, Gallagher would most certainly be proud of these sound artisans!)

While the confoundingly subdued Berberian Sound Studio refuses to deliver much in the way of thrills or chills, it does offer a very poignant critique of the Italian giallo film industry. This is a film about the exploitation of actors and crew -- by directors and producers who wholeheartedly believe that the privilege of working on such fine pieces of cinematic “art” legitimize their sexual (and psychological) harassment -- as well as the stingy bureaucracy of low budget film productions. Strickland's film also embellishes upon the cultural and societal differences between machismo Italian men and navel-gazing Englishmen, because nobody else accepts this potent brand of psychological torture like a stuffy Englishman.

 

SF INDIEFEST 2013: THE INTERNATIONAL SIGN OF CHOKING

A scene from The International Sign of Choking.

The Other opportunities

 

By Don Simpson

 

While Josh (Zach Weintraub) has presumably traveled to Buenos Aires to shoot an undefined video project, he seems much more interested in tracking down a woman named Martina. From what we can piece together, Josh has been to Buenos Aires at least once before and Martina is a woman with whom he enjoyed a fling or a crush or something. Then again, the past does not matter nearly as much as the present, which is essentially a collection of Josh’s failed attempts at tracking down Martina.

 

Enter Anna (Sophia Takal), another United States citizen who is staying in the same boarding house as Josh. Anna is not nearly as fluent in Spanish as Josh, thus establishing him as her a de facto translator. They begin to hang out more and more, but then Josh gets weird and pushes Anna away. It is incredibly fascinating to observe Josh’s on-again-off-again feelings towards Anna and how his wishy-washy, nonchalant attitude and overall indifference visibly makes Anna frustrated and upset. And who could blame her? Josh seems to be purposefully torturing Anna (as a consequence of his inability to track down Martina?), using her to quench his loneliness with sex one minute and pushing her away the next.

 

As a film that is essentially about the disassociation and loneliness of traveling alone to a foreign country, Weintraub’s The International Sign for Choking shows the passing-like-ships-in-the-night relationships that seem to go hand-in-hand with solo international treks. Foreign travel is often romanticized as an opportunity to enjoy love without attachment, but what happens when one is prone to becoming attached? We have no idea what Josh and Martina’s relationship was like, or how long ago it occurred, but it is fairly likely that it was similar to his relationship with Anna. Maybe Josh did not realize he liked Martina until after he left Buenos Aires, and by then it was too late? In which case, will he feel the same way about Anna in a few months (or years)? Will Anna be yet another missed opportunity, another woman whom Josh let slip through his fingers?

 

Weintraub creates two protagonists who are not typical American tourists — the kind that locals probably disdain (Josh and Anna meet some of those very types of tourists one night in a bar); instead, Josh and Anna strive to immerse themselves in Argentine culture, closely observing Argentine habits and idiosyncrasies. So, on one level, Josh might be an ideal tourist but, as far as relationships go, his inability to establish lasting connections is far from idealized.

SUNDANCE 2013: THE FUTURE

Maciste (Rutger Hauer) in The Future.

Looking ahead

By Don Simpson

The Future (Il Futuro) had me at the opening homage to Stanley Kubrick's The Shining, with a yellow Fiat taking the place of the iconic Volkswagen Beetle. As it turns out, that Fiat is the very vessel in which Bianca (Manuela Martelli) and Tomas' (Luigi Ciardo) parents die, leaving Bianca and Tomas to manage their
home in Rome.

Bianca is old enough to become Tomas' guardian and they are able to get money from their father's trust while their mother's funds are inexplicably tied up. Bianca is still forced to find a job to supplement the trust funds and Tomas willingly volunteers at the gym in exchange for being able to work out there. It is at the gym that Tomas meets two strange friends (Nicolas Vaporidis, Alessandro Giallocosta). Soon Bianca and Tomas are entwined in a risky scheme that involves a former Mr. Universe-cum-actor who goes by the name of his most famous character, Maciste (Rutger Hauer).

As Chilean director Alicia Scherson's title soon suggests, Bianca and Tomas' present is quite grim; it is only their future that holds promise. The Future exists in a surreal fugue state in which strange events are explained by the siblings' damaged psychological state after their parents' catastrophic accident. Time has become blurred and they see things much differently -- bright lights blast through their windows all night long and their parents' crushed yellow Fiat is now grey.

SLAMDANCE 2013: DIAMOND ON VINYL

Charlie (Sonja Kinski) in Diamond on Vinyl.

Sexy talk

By Don Simpson

Henry (Brian McGuire) is addicted to collecting audio recordings of conversations no matter if they are albums from the 1950s or conversations clandestinely recorded on his portable recorder. This is all research and practice because Henry strives to record the perfect conversation.

It sounds innocent enough, right? Yeah, but the habit gets him in trouble when his fiancée (Nina Millin) discovers that he has been recording their lovemaking -- so much trouble that Henry is promptly kicked out of the house.

Enter Charlie (Sonja Kinski -- Klaus Kinski's granddaughter), an attractive, young, voyeuristic photographer who is excited by the possibility of creating audio recordings with Henry; except when Charlie says that she wants to "record something" her words drip with sexual innuendo.

Charlie and Henry begin to play make believe, recording improvised conversations together. Sometimes they develop new characters for their role
playing, other times they attempt to mimic various people they have met. To further their "research," they begin to engage unsuspecting strangers, secretly recording the resulting conversations. Charlie and Henry approach their lives as if performing a series of acting roles, attempting to achieve a greater level of realism by pretending they are someone else. It seems as though we never see the real Charlie or Henry, we only see whichever characters that they choose to play. The problem is that they do not always know when and where to draw the line. Boundaries are repeatedly crossed as voyeurism mutates into obsession.

Writer-director J.R. Hughto's cinematic chamber piece questions the authenticity of our selves -- specifically, what we say. Are we all just playing roles in this world? Do we sometimes adopt false personas in order to fit into certain situations? Do we sometimes over-think (mentally rehearse) what we are going to say? Do we, like Henry, strive to have the perfect conversation?

SUNDANCE 2013: BLUE CAPRICE

John (Isaiah Washington) in Blue Caprice.

System of a dad down

By John Esther

Inspired by the Beltway sniper attacks of October, 2002, writer-director Alexandre Moor's feature debut premiered at the Sundance Film Festival Saturday night.

Lee (Tequan Richmond) is a teenage boy living on the Antigua Islands by himself. Abandoned, he is drawn to John (Isaiah Washington), a father of three young children. After saving Lee's life, John takes Lee under his wings, providing the father figure Lee never had. After John's three children return to his mother, Lee fills a void for John, too.

Months later John and Lee arrive in John's hometown of Washington, USA, in search of John's kids. It turns out, there is a restraining order on John. He is not to contact his wife or kids.

Refusing to take responsibility for his numerous shortcomings, John gets it into his head that the whole system is against him. But since it is a system built on a house of cards, it needs a push if father and son want to see the whole thing come tumbling down. John needs Lee's help to give it that little push. Push comes to blood.

Stranded in a foreign land without resources, the already vulnerable Lee sees no other option than to help his father go on a vicious murdering spree. Typical to character, John makes sure Lee does the real dirty work.

A solid debut featuring strong acting, Blue Caprice delves into America's familiar consequences when insecurity, anger and high profile weapons come together.

In the wake of the numerous acts of violence, it is interesting to note that Blue Caprice does not attribute the violence to big guns and mental illness. John and Lee are essentially a couple of losers.

That they are black is also besides the point. This is never about getting revenge for 400 years of slavery. John simply fantasizes that this type of violence would make a difference.

Ten years later, the Beltway sniper spree did not change the system.