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

 

 

PSIFF 2014: MOTHER, I LOVE YOU

Raymond (Kristofers Konovalovs) in Mother, I Love You.

False word to your mother

By Don Simpson

Like most 12-year-old boys, Raymond (Kristofers Konovalovs) does not really think before he does things, rather he acts upon naive impulses that seem to be fueled solely by hormones. Raised by a single mother (Vita Varpina) who works as a doctor at a birthing center, Raymond is adequately loved and cared for, so he is not necessarily acting out for attention. She gives Raymond all of the freedom that he desires, which might be a bit too much; but, if anything, Raymond is probably just bored.

Raymond spends most of his free time with his best friend, Peteris (Matiss Livcans), a classmate from a less privileged pedigree. When the two boys are together, their decisions grow increasingly reckless. Peteris’ mother (Indra Brike) works as a cleaning lady, which gives Peteris uninhibited access into her clients’ homes. When Raymond gains possession of a key, he begins to use that client’s apartment as a home away from home, for no other reason than because he can.

It is not long before Raymond finds his bad choices snowballing hopelessly towards a point of no return. He tries to cover-up each of his crimes with one lie after another. In retrospect, some of Raymond’s actions may seem ridiculously absurd, but writer-director Janis Nords sets up each event so perfectly that Raymond’s decisions make perfect sense as they are occurring. As Nords slowly reveals the web of lies that Raymond’s mother has crafted for herself, a window into Raymond’s thought processes opens wide. It seems as though Raymond might have learned how to lie from his mother’s own example.

Mother, I Love You is Latvia's Oscar submission for Best Film in a Foreign Language.

PSIFF 2014: THE GREAT PASSAGE

A scene from The Great Passage.

If on a winter's night a computer

By Don Simpson

A large publisher’s Dictionary Editorial Department finds itself on the brink of extinction in 1995 as new technologies such as laptops and mobile telephones become more commonplace in everyday households. The Internet is on the verge of explosion and emails are about to replace handwritten letters as the primary form of “written” communication. Prognosticating that the world is about to become very used to communicating, researching and learning via their sparkly new electronic devices, the head of the department (Go Kato) wants to develop a new kind of dictionary.

The titular dictionary of his dreams will be Japan’s first to capture youth culture’s lexicon, embracing modern day mutilations of the Japanese language — slang words, modern expressions and acronyms — while skillfully providing the proper roots and definitions for words alongside the popular-yet-incorrect new meanings.

Dictionaries can take decades to develop, and before they commence this daunting task, the department’s longtime chief editor (Kaoru Kobayashi) wants to retire in order to care for his ailing wife. The problem is, in this trendy new world of technological innovation, no one wants to take on a boring, decade-spanning project like a dictionary — you might then see a photo of the Dictionary Editorial Department beside the definition of “uncool,” “nerdy” or “lame.”

Enter Majime (Ryûhei Matsuda), a socially awkward and frigidly shy young company employee who is currently mismatched in the Advertising Department. Armed with a degree in Linguistics and an unwavering love for language, Majime appears as the ideal candidate to take on the “modern living dictionary.”

As the baton is passed to Majime at work, the perspective of Yûya Ishii’s The Great Passage quickly shifts to follow Majime. We observe as a complete immersion into his work allows Majime to mature into a more confident person. Majime begins to develop an unlikely new friendship with a loud and obnoxious co-worker (Jô Odagiri) who slowly drags him out of his shell. It is not long before Majime even develops a romantic interest in his landlady’s granddaughter (Aoi Miyazaki), thus finally realizing the true meaning of love.

Time in the Dictionary Editorial Department passes excruciatingly slowly, so Ishii is forced to take significant leaps in the timeline. While this causes the narrative to feel disjointed and unstructured, it does allow for us to witness the changes in Majime’s persona over a longer period of time. Just as the purpose of the new dictionary is to allow its words the opportunity to establish a more natural dialog with readers, Majime learns how to use his internalized verbosity to express himself verbally.

It is not without bitter irony that a majority of press about Japan’s entry for 2013′s foreign-language Oscar will be consumed online. As the world continues to drift farther away from the printed word, Ishii’s The Great Passage preaches to us about the power of words on paper. Though their new dictionary will only capture a snapshot of an ever-[de]evolving language, there is an undeniable permanence to the printed and bound nature of its publication. For Majime, turning the pages of a book with the perfect paper stock is practically an orgasmic experience; the touch of the paper establishes an incomparable connection between the reader and the publication.

PSIFF 2014: OF HORSES AND MEN

A scene from Of Horses and Men.

Human-ing around

By Don Simpson

An Icelandic saga of sorts, Benedikt Erlingsson’s Of Horses and Men is structured as a series of loosely intertwining parables about horses and the rural community whose lives revolve around them. These stories seem like they probably might have possessed some greater moral purpose at one time, but the points have since worn away with the passage of time; the tall tales have grown so exaggerated and romanticized, they hardly seem to be rooted in truth at this point. But I don’t know, maybe a rider really has found themselves practically sandwiched between a horny stallion and a mare in heat and lived to tell the embarrassing story -- regardless it certainly makes for entertaining cinema.

Equally absurd is a drunkard who rides a horse out to sea to purchase two jugs of a potent elixir from a passing ship, or a novice rider who is forced to recreate the Luke Skywalker tauntaun scene in order to survive a frigid night. While each vignette of this visually poetic film seems like it could be a part of a grand absurdist farce, the tone is so subtle that the comedy quickly mutates into stoic seriousness, especially when told against the dramatic natural environments of Iceland that are captured with such astoundingly magnificent cinematography by Bergsteinn Björgúlfsson.

Juxtaposed with the beauty and power of the horses, the townspeople mostly seem to be idiotic mortals who repeatedly fall prey to desire, greed and anger. The horses closely observe the tomfoolery of the humans and even though their judgments (or, lack thereof) remain unknown, Erlingsson seems to be telling the sprawling narrative from their perspective. Unfortunately, the horses must sometimes shoulder the punishment for human stupidity, making this Iceland's Oscar submission for best foreign language film an occasionally difficult film to stomach -- thought it is important to note that no horses were hurt during the making of this film.

CONCERT REVIEW: FESTIVAL OF CAROLS

Los Angeles Master Chorale. Photo by Ken Hively.

Songs of the shopping spree

By Ed Rampell

You better watch out, you might want to shout, because the Los Angeles Master Chorale is in town, regaling listeners with its annual Festival of Carols. If you’re not in the Christmas spirit yet, experiencing this songfest at the Walt Disney Concert Hall may be just the ticket. The festive aural cascade of seasonal song includes around 20 numbers, ranging from the solemn to the celebratory, the traditional to the pop, in a variety of languages.

The show, which has one intermission, was kicked off by an acappella rendition of an English Wassail song. Other oldies but goodies were accompanied by Lisa Edwards on the piano and/or by John West on the organ. The ensemble of 50-ish male and female vocalists regaled the audience's ears with many of those beloved standards. They included zesty versions of "Deck the Hall," "Silent Night," "White Christmas" and "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" -- which were accompanied by a certain visitor who may have arrived via a reindeer-powered sled, who then slid down the Disney’s chimney. Before the Chorale belted out a rousing "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" conductor Grant Gershon invited the Angelenos to sing-a-long from their seats, the words provided in the show’s program.

A Hebrew Folk Tune enhanced the repertoire, as soprano soloist Ayana Haviv sang "Hiney Mah Tov." Noting that the Jewish Festival of Lights had already ended prior to the first concert, which was on Dec. 7, Gershon good-naturedly joshed that this was “the first Hanukkah carol of next year.”

Highlights of the second act included soprano saxophonist Doug Masek accompanying the Chorale during the German carol, "Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming,"  which was arranged by Shawn Kirchner, composer in residence. Gershon, who provided wise and witty patter between songs, introduced the Kenyan folk song, "Wana Baraka," by dedicating it to that African giant we just lost, Nelson Mandela.

During Act II West returned to the stage and announced that there would be “an unscripted word” -- and never were truer words ever spoken, as the Hall’s high tech organ actually could not play. As West wrestled with what I suppose is a computerized musical instrument, I thought the organ was going to say, like HAL in Stanley Kubrick’s 2001:“I’m sorry Dave, but I can’t do that.” As the audience cooled its heels a technician was actually brought onstage and performed what I suppose was an, uh, organ transplant.

During the grand finale I thought I was at a Dodgers’ game for a moment as the organ swelled, resounding throughout the auditorium, accompanying a rousing rendition of "Joy to the World." No, rockers -- not Three Dog Night’s version with the “Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog” lyrics, but the one based on Psalm 98, composed by Isaac Watts in the 18^th century with the 'come let us adore thee' words. Truth be told, the Chorale’s rapturous singing so expressed what that immortal philosopher Linus van Pelt called “the true meaning of Christmas” that your atheistic reviewer actually experienced a few transcendent seconds of splendor and bliss, when for a moment all worldly woes and weariness dissolved in a dew and joy dwelleth in the heart. And that alone, dear reader, is worth the price of admission.

If you’re nice not naughty, Gershon and his musical “elves” just might perform an encore or two. Take someone you love to go see the melodic gospel according to Grant and the Chorale, which is celebrating its 50^th anniversary.

Fa-la-la-la-la, peace on Earth, goodwill to all men and women.

 

 

THEATER REVIEW: PARFUMERIE

Miss Amalia Balash (Deobrah Ann Woll) in Parfumerie.

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By Ed Rampell

There are quite a few reasons to see Parfumerie, an adaptation of the 1936 romatic comedy Illatszertar by Budapest-born playwright Miklos Laszlo, written by his nephew, E.P. Dowdall.

First of all, audiences will get to watch two top TV thespians trod the boards in this live production. Deborah Ann Woll, who plays the crazy, sexy, redheaded vampire Jessica Hamby in HBO’s True Blood series, portrays Miss Amalia Balash, an employee of a posh Budapest perfume shop, from whence the play’s title comes. Amalia feuds with her fellow shop clerk, Mr. George Horvath (Eddie Kaye Thomas), while carrying on a torrid love affair via the mail with a correspondent whose identity is unknown to her.

Moreover, Richard Schiff, who played the conscience of Martin Sheen’s -- uh, I mean Pres. Josiah Bartlet’s -- White House in NBC’s West Wing series, co-stars as Mr. Miklos Hammerschmidt, the owner of the titular Hungarian perfumery.

The two-acter takes place during the holiday season, and amidst the seasonal hubbub of buying and selling scents the usually even-keeled Hammerschmidt is especially high strung. At first your reviewer thought this was due to hard times the business might be experiencing during the Depression (not the one we’re in now -- Parfumerie is set during the last one, the 1930s). But of course, as this period piece is being staged in Beverly Hills, personal woes trump the economic ones. (Given that the cast includes little screen vets I can see it now: A new “reality” TV series called Shopkeepers of Beverly Hills!)

Allen Moyer’s set design is truly stellar. His evocation of a pre-WWII East European perfumery, so rich in lavish detail (with snowflakes falling outside the windows!), is the most sumptuous set this critic has ever seen on an L.A. stage -- with the sole exception of some of L.A. Opera’s onstage marvels. Indeed, this Tony and Drama Desk-nominated scenic designer has wrought his marvels for the Metropolitan and other opera houses, as well as for numerous Broadway and Off-Broadway shows. Bravo, Mr. Moyer, and thanks for your feast for the eyes (and noses!).

In addition, Parfumierie is the first play produced at the brand new Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts, a beautiful new addition to the Angeleno stage scene. From its original artwork by the likes of Roy Lichtenstein to its lovely architecture, it is all, well, very Beverly Hills. The Wallis is a worthy way to celebrate the centennial of this enclave of wealth in our city, which is -- lest we forget -- so beset by poverty.

As for the play itself: Well, Parfumerie may be a bit played out, long in the tooth and overly familiar to audiences, as it was adapted for the screen three times. Ernst Lubitsch directed 1940’s The Shop Around the Corner, with James Stewart and Margaret Sullavan as the star-crossed lovers. Following the invention of that newfangled email, Laszlo’s concoction about correspondence gone terribly wrong was updated by co-writer/director Nora Ephron in 1998’s You’ve Got Mail, co-starring Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.

Mistaken identities has long been a convention of theater and opera, from Shakespeare to Mozart and, alas, beyond. This old saw of a plot device rears its ugly head in this letter writing themed comedy-drama. Some ticket buyers may be tickled by the ruse, while others might find the plot and play to be contrived, creaky and old fashioned. The second act is far better and more entertaining than the first. But, oh that glorious set, which reminded me of the interiors of Confiserie Sprüngli, the exquisite 19^th century chocolate shop and café at Zurich’s Bahnhofstrasse! Overall, although it’s not exactly letter-perfect, most theatergoers will be entertained by this holiday fluff at a gorgeous new showcase for live theater.


Parfumerie runs through Dec. 22 in the Bram Goldsmith Theater, Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts, 9390 N. Santa Monica Blvd., Beverly Hills, CA 90210. For info: 310-746-4000; www.thewaillis.org.

 

 

BOOK RELEASE: THE HAWAI'I MOVIE AND TELEVISION BOOK

The Hawai'i Movie and Television Book: Celebrating 100 Years of Film Production Throughout the Hawaiian Islands.

 

Aloha 24 X 100

 

Just in time for the holidays, Honolulu’s Mutual Publishing has released The Hawai'i Movie and Television Book: Celebrating 100 Years of Film Production Throughout the Hawaiian Islands, co-authored by this publication's prolific writer Ed Rampell.

The handsome, four-color 216-page volume celebrates 100 years of filmmaking throughout the Hawaiian Islands with the focus on Hollywood feature films and television production since 1995, when Rampell co-authored Made In Paradise: Hollywood’s Films of Hawaii and The South Seas.

 

The Hawai'i Movie and Television Book includes: The screen images of Polynesians and Asians; how South Seas Cinema more than any other film genre is obsessed with the theme of Utopia; where films/TV shows were shot on location in the Hawaiian Islands; a history of the present day Hawai’i Film/TV Industry; and iconic Hawai‘i crime fighters as portrayed on screen. Rampell also places in historic context and reevaluates important movies such as 1995’s Waterworld and 1998’s Godzilla, revealing how they are motion picture parables of global warming and nuclear testing.

 

The films and television programs are covered in detail, heavily illustrated with archival and contemporary photographs. A valuable reference for film aficionados, a treasure trove of memorabilia for Hawai‘i movie fans, and an important document of Hollywood’s cinematic history with Hawai‘i. Film trivia enthusiasts will have a blast and discover where to go to see the Island locations where popular productions such as From Here to Eternity, Jurassic Parkand The Descendants were made.

 

Hollywood directors brought their own unique vision of paradise to the screen which receives special treatment in a chapter on the South Sea film genre. There is also coverage of films about Hawaiian life made by Native Hawaiians and other local filmmakers.

 

Los Angeles-based film historian Ed Rampell, who formerly lived in Hawaii, Tahiti, Samoa and Micronesia, where he covered the Nuclear Free and Independent Pacific and Hawaiian Sovereignty movements for ABC’s “20/20”, Radio Australia, Radio New Zealand, Honolulu Weekly, etc., is now one of L.A.’s most prolific reviewers, covering film/theater/opera for JEstherEntertainment.com, as well as HollywoodProgressive.com, Legends and Legacies, The Daily Dissident, People’s World and The Progressive Magazine.

 

Rampell previously co-authored Made In Paradise: Hollywood’s Films of Hawaii and The South Seas and Pearl Harbor In The Movies with Luis I. Reyes, who also co-wrote Hispanics in Hollywood. Rampell is also a co-founder of the South Seas Cinema Society, an Oahu-based fan club/film society.  

For more information about The Hawai'i Movie and Television Book: Celebrating 100 Years of Film Production Throughout the Hawaiian Islands,including a rave review by Honolulu’s top entertainment reporter, or to order copies  see Hawai'i Movie Book.