SIFF Review: Kink

2013 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
80 minutes

***

Every October in Seattle, our free weekly newspaper, The Stranger, puts on an amateur porn film festival called Hump! (their exclamation point). It’s not nearly as gross as it sounds. Well, it was at first. But over the years, the prizes you could win got bigger and better and the production value on the entries shot way up. Nowadays, many of the Hump! entries are legitimately beautiful, funny and/or visually impressive films. But since there’s a “Best Kink” category, there are also always a couple of major wince-inducers. The Stranger mercifully limits entries to 10 minutes, which can sometimes feel extremely generous to the filmmakers.

James Franco presents a feature length version of a Hump! contestant, very appropriately called, “Kink.” And if you think 10 minutes of unimaginable sexual torture sounds intense, try 80 minutes. I like to think of myself as pretty open-minded, but much of this film is difficult to stomach. I feel compelled to warn you that if you aren’t all that familiar with what BDSM (that stands for bondage, discipline, dominance and submission) entails, you might want to choose a different movie. Unless, of course, you’re into that. And clearly, many people are.

Christina Voros’ directs this documentary about kink.com, the largest producer of BDSM videos in the United States. The interviews with the directors and performers cast a very sex-positive light on the behind-the-scenes moments in “Kink.” Kink.com has got everything you could possibly want in a sex dungeon, including myriad equipment to restrain, hit or fuck you with. Some of these devices require enough horsepower to show up a regular horse. What’s more, they seem real nice and I’m so glad that they are providing what seems like a very conscientious and even intellectual approach to something that could easily get out of hand.

Now that I can’t unsee “Kink,” I am left to ponder the implications. Again, I’m fine with whatever happens between consenting adults, but it seems like a lot of work to have an orgasm. The most surprising thing that “Kink” presents is that it’s not always about getting off. Some find it meditative. Others enjoy challenging themselves physically and emotionally. One guy compares it to a runner’s high. No one here is a victim. Everyone is having a terrific time. And they have rules and regulations in place to make sure that doesn’t change. No one ever dishes out what they couldn’t take themselves. There are always safe words in place and the submissives are upfront about their limits and preferences. None of the videos ever imply rape or force. The submissive is actually the one in charge.

I was pleased to learn that some of it is even faked to a degree. Apparently, there’s a “right” way to step on a dick. The performers are all familiar with how to throw a stage punch. But most of it is the real deal because the key to a good video is “real responses on camera.”

I can’t tell you whether or not you should see “Kink.” It wasn’t the most pleasant viewing experience. If you’re already immersed in BDSM culture, this will certainly be up your alley (she’s used to it!). If you’re new to the subject, you will certainly come away from it more educated. Still, we don’t always have to know everything…

Originally posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

SFIFF Review: Big Blue Lake

2013 SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
98 minutes

*

It’s difficult to pinpoint precisely where Jessey Tsang Tsui-Shan went wrong with “Big Blue Lake,” her semi-autobiographical second feature film. There’s a good story in there somewhere. Instead she presents us with something that, when it’s not being trite, is an utter snoozefest.

Lai Yee (Leila Tong) is a thirty-ish actress who returns to her small village in Hong Kong after a ten-year absence to find everything different and her mother suffering from the early stages of Alzheimer’s. To earn money for her mother, Lai Yee takes odd jobs that utilize her acting skills (because pretending to be blind to test restaurant service is totally a job that someone could have). During one assignment, she bumps into Lam Chun (Lawrence Chou), an old school chum who happens to be in between two unsuspecting dates. For no apparent reason, the two reconnect and he comes to live in her brother’s old room. The plot then abandons Lam Chun’s lothario storyline and puts him on a quest to reconnect with an old love at the titular lake both he and Lai Yee remember from their childhood.

There isn’t an interesting character or story line in the film. Part of it is the performances, which feel clunky and amateurish, and that’s with them speaking Cantonese, which I do not speak in the slightest. Tong makes a lot of over-expressive Katy Perry style faces whenever she is trying to really get an emotion across, but I’m STILL not really sure what she’s trying to convey. Her mother toddles around almost like a sitcom version of an Alzheimer’s sufferer. Everyone else barely registers in terms of performance.

The story also feels fairly contrived. When Lai Yee shows up, she finds her mother, May (Amy Chum), alone in the house and clearly suffering from dementia. No one called to tell her that her mother was sick. Later her brother explains (by phone) that she never calls so he didn’t think to tell her. Really? That’s EXACTLY WHEN you would call an estranged relative. Then she learns that her brother and father both left town without her mother. There is some flimsy “emergency” excuse for both of them, but they left with no real contingency plan set in place. They didn’t even know that Lai Yee was coming! I guess they just assumed their Alzheimer’s-afflicted mother would be fine alone for a couple of days.

Lai Yee gets lots of passive-aggressive comments from the neighbors about her long absence. It seems like the entire population is angry with her. Is this really what happens in small Chinese villages? It doesn’t really seem like any of their business.

Lai Yee’s story is beyond boring. She spends much of her off time in contemplative silence, and Leila Tong is not a nuanced enough actress to pull that off. Lai Yee is relatable only to the extent that she does what we all do when we’ve returned to a place we haven’t been in a while. We continuously remark about how everything has changed. It’s a natural impulse that kicks in somewhere in your mid-twenties and only gets worse the older you get. But it can’t be very much fun for other people to listen to.

Alzheimer’s is emotionally devastating for everyone but the sufferer and it can be a heartbreaking plot point in films (such as Sarah Polley’s “Away From Her”), but in Jessie Tsang’s clumsy hands, it feels disingenuous. If this is really a version of her life, I’m sorry for her. I’m sure it’s terrible. But an audience needs more than abstract sympathy to connect with a character. Perhaps she was too close to her material to remember to make it interesting.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

SFIFF: Dom – A Russian Family

2013 SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
127 minutes

*****

Most of us have issues with our family, but Viktor Shamanov could give us all a run for our money. Writer/director Oleg Pogodin’s “Dom: A Russian Family” is a glorious epic about a Russian mobster who returns home after a twenty-five year absence to bid farewell to his family prior to retirement. The dense narrative builds slowly, covering more characters than a “Game of Thrones” episode, but Pogodin clearly knows what he’s doing. “Dom: A Russian Family” is as brutal as it is beautiful and it belongs in the same breath as films like “The Deer Hunter” and “The Godfather.”

Viktor Shamanov (Sergey Garmash) is an aging gangster who is ready to retire. Unfortunately in his line of work, there are only two ways to do that: disappear or die. But before he goes, he is compelled to make amends with the entire Shamanov clan, whom he left rotting in their farmhouse in the steppes years ago. The oldest of five, Viktor utilizes his grandfathers 100th birthday celebration to reconnect with each of his siblings individually, including those that are too young to remember having met him. Some regard him with awe, some with big brotherly love and some with resentment making for some pretty intense conversations at the dinner table.

To further complicate matters, Viktor’s enemies have caught wind of the family reunion and plan to crash it. And they’re bringing along plenty of semi-automatic party favors. Meanwhile, a mysterious former paramour called Svetlana makes her way to the farmhouse, determined to rendezvous with her old flame even if she has to walk there in stilettos and a mini-dress.

There are few better settings for a film about a decaying family than a crumbling farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Once upon a time, Viktor supported the Shamanovs with income from his business, but when he went to jail, the money stopped coming and the family has been in decline ever since. Many family members blame Viktor for their problems, but it seems more likely that the men who stayed behind are to blame.

Viktor’s male role models (his father and grandfather) were cruel, hard men. That he was able to retain any compassion despite his upbringing and career choice is a testament to his own character. He escaped while the rest of his family remained on the farm, festering in anger, resentment and disappointment. Viktor’s career as a criminal is an improvement over the Shamanov legacy. The inevitable ultra-violent climax is less tragedy than a long overdue cleanse of a poisoned land.

Essential to a good epic is its ability to keep track of numerous characters without leaving any of them under-developed. Pogodin accomplishes this by introducing them through their relationship (or lack thereof) with Viktor. By the end, we are very familiar with everyone’s motivations and invested in the outcome. Viktor is the most developed character and so much more than a “gangster with a heart of gold.” The genesis of his brutality is evident, as is his commitment to his family. He knows he made mistakes, but he sees no point in dwelling on them. Despite his desire to leave his life of crime behind, he will do whatever he must to protect his family even as he is the one who put them in danger.

There’s a lot of darkness in “Dom,” but it somehow manages to retain the vivacity of a Tarantino film. This is due in large part to Sergey Garmash’s charismatic grizzled squint. Garmash joins the great congregation of mum cinematic badasses and conveys more with one forehead wrinkle than Vin Diesel could in a lengthy monologue. The Russians just may have Sicilians beat in terms of mob awesomeness. They take everything up a notch further than even Emeril would dare. I don’t think I’ve ever used the phrase “instant classic” before, but for “Dom: A Russian Family,” it categorically applies.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

SFIFF Review: Pearblossom HWY

2013 SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
78 minutes

****

There are a hundred songs about the compelling desire to “get out of this town.” There’s no shortage of films on the subject either, which is why I was surprised to find a unique, albeit incredibly bleak perspective in Mike Ott’s “Pearblossom Hwy.” “Mumblecore” is a term used to describe a certain level of realism in character-driven independent dramas. But I’m starting to believe that Mumblecore is simply the best way to tell a story. The characters are so authentic that you tend to root for them almost immediately. But this also means you have no idea how it will turn out. Life isn’t a movie but that doesn’t mean a movie can’t be like life.

“Pearblossom Hwy” is a shining example of this exceptional genre. Ott and co-writer/star Atsuko Okatsuka have crafted a small town tale that breaks all the rules that Hollywood has set for dramatic storytelling. Cory (Cory Zachariah) is a sensitive blockhead with dreams of stardom. He films his video selfies as part of an audition for a reality TV show, but we know he’s not going to make the cut. His problems are way too grave to make for good television. His punk band is lucky to get tiny gigs at the local watering hole, and he doesn’t even really have a day-job to not quit. Cory is a small-town kid with big dreams, but it’s only a matter of time before these dreams are dashed. You would not see Channing Tatum playing a character that unnervingly tragic. Cory comes off as one of those naive gay kids from Middle America who winds up on the end of a rope. His potential misfortune looms so ominously that you’re not sure you want to be around when it happens.

Cory’s best friend, Anna (Atsuko Okatsuka) has a demeanor that could be confused for stoicism but is more likely numbness or an emotional armor. She needs both in her line of work, which is, of course, prostitution. By day, she helps her uncle with his gardening business. By night she trolls truck stops and seems to attract the creepiest of johns who insist on videoing their encounters. There isn’t a Richard Gere among them. We don’t know Anna’s age, but she looks like a child. This makes it all the harder to watch her put herself in these situations which are, at best, degrading. She’s an intelligent girl who has convinced herself that this is her only option for fast cash and a plane ticket to Japan to see her ailing Grandmother.

It’s clear why Anna is drawn to Cory. They’re both emotional orphans. Cory’s older brother Jeff is convinced there’s only one way to be a man. That’s to serve your country, get a job and bed women. Because Cory doesn’t meet any of these qualifications, Jeff is simultaneously concerned for and disgusted by him. Anna gets no support from her family who, including her Grandmother, all believe that the most important thing for her to do is study for her upcoming U.S. citizenship test. She lives with her Aunt and Uncle and they treat her like an obligation. This isn’t a Reese Witherspoon movie. These kids aren’t just stuck in their small town because they haven’t found themselves. They have nearly insurmountable financial constraints and are basically one bad month or one familial bust-up away from being homeless.

The film does take a little while to hit its stride, though Ott uses a jarring transitional sound effect between scenes, which brings a sense of dread to the slow beginning. But the real story starts once Jeff takes Cory and Anna to San Francisco to meet Cory’s biological father. Jeff not so secretly hopes the old man will serve as a warning for Cory to shape up. What Cory and Anna find is not an escape but instead a clearer picture of the sort of freedom they may never have.

“Pearblossom Hwy” is powerful stuff and it haunts you long after the credits. Their issues will never be resolved or else it will be years before anything truly changes for them. Cory writes silly yet earnest rebellion songs with his band that amount to little more than punk rock greeting cards. He uses his fervent anti-conformity act to distract from the closet he’s hiding in, not only from his homophobic marine brother but also himself. Anna only cares about becoming an American citizen because it’s what he grandmother would have wanted. It comes down to seeing her grandmother one last time or taking the test to make her grandmother happy in her final hours. It’s a tough decision and one that is eventually made for her.

Don’t hold your breath for a happy ending, nor for any ending really. This is just life. There is nothing for them beyond the constraints of their zip code. Yes, it’s bleak. But sometimes the awful truth is a florid breath of fresh air. They don’t write too many songs like that, but they should.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

2013 San Fran International Film Fest Wrap-Up

Spring is a funny time for a film festival. I understand that the host cities want to show off during the most temperate season; San Francisco is beautiful year-round, but Spring is the only time it’s not nestled under a blanket of clouds. Such is the nature of film festivals; you end up spending an awful lot of time inside dark theaters. When you leave a screening, the sun admonishes you for your insolence.

Fortunately, SFIFF makes it easier for you to make the most of the festival and the city at the same time. Currently in its 56th year, SFIFF is spread out over fifteen days and, thanks to the many screens at the Sundance Kabuki Theatre, they are able to keep things pretty contained. There were never any screenings scheduled before noon, so you can always get a couple of hours of exploration in before it’s time to sit on your butt. The SFIFF lineup is comparable to other major film festivals, but the lengthy duration makes for a more relaxed experience. I was only able to stay for a week, but in that time I managed to see sixteen films as well as make the most of my time in the City by the Bay.

The festival kicked off with “What Maisie Knew” and ended with the third installment of Richard Linklater’s “Before [Whenever]” series. Either SFIFF has an excellent programmer or I’m just getting better at choosing films to screen. I saw way more great films than bad ones.

THE BEST:

“After Lucia” – Beautifully acted, but so brutal that I’m still a little traumatized. Tessa Ia gives a staggering performance as the teenager who decides not to bother her recently widowered father with the trivial matter of being literally tortured by her classmates.

“Dom: A Russian Family” – Time will likely prove this the definitive Russian gangster film.

“Ernest & Celestine” – Based on the stories and water color illustrations by Gabrielle Vincent, it tells a poignant tale of the unlikely friendship between a mouse and a bear, whose kind are the sole mortal enemies in an anthropomorphic animal world. Friendship despite adversity is one of the greatest messages that a kid’s film can impart because it teaches children that the black and white rules set by authority aren’t always wise or informed.

“Key of Life” – Though foreign comedies tend to suffer from the hindrance of translation, writer/director Uchida Kenji makes it looks easy with his tale of three lost souls who find themselves by stepping out of their comfort zones and into each other’s lives. The dialog is sharp and the performances are understated perfection, playing the affable screwball characters so straight that the absurd comedy clichés (chance meetings, amnesia, mistaken identity, freak accidents) seem entirely plausible.

“Kings of Summer” – This quirky coming-of-age tale about a troika of restless teenage boys who build the ultimate clubhouse in the woods is going to be the sleeper hit of the season. Megan Mullalley, Alison Brie and Ron “Fucking” Swanson round out the supporting cast.

“Pearblossom Hwy” – An excellent follow-up to Mike Ott’s “Littlerock”, “Pearblossom Hwy” is a uniquely told story of two small-town twenty-somethings whose ambitions don’t stretch too far beyond the need to escape.

“Sofia’s Last Ambulance” – One of those movies you need to see every once in a while to remind yourself that our mess of a country could be so much worse.

“Stories We Tell” – At this point, I can safely say that Sarah Polley is one of the most creative and elegant filmmakers working today. Her third film is a video memoir of sorts that explores perspective and memory through a profile of the mother she lost when she was a little girl.

“Unfinished Song” – This is one of those British Schmaltzfests that is so well acted, you play right into their hands and walk out of the theater with a wet sleeve and puffy eyes. Terence Stamp is an absolute treasure.

“You’re Next” – Adam Winegard’s tongue-in-cheek home invasion Mumblecore Horror film stars a Super Group of well known actors within the sparse genre including Joe Swanberg, Amy Seimetz and Kate Lyn Sheil. Lionsgate seems well aware of that fact and snatched it right up. Catch it at a theatre near you this August.

THE WORST:

“Big Blue Lake” – Major snoozefest about an estranged actress who returns home unexpectedly and is surprised to learn that her mother has Alzheimer’s. As boring as it is depressing.

“Night Across the Street” – Highly French New Wave influenced final film of now deceased Chilean filmmaker Raúl Ruiz. I wouldn’t say I’m glad he’s dead, but at least he can’t make any more films.

“Rosie” – Swiss comedy about a stubborn old lady and her author son who must return home to take care for her, despite the fact that neither of them are too keen on the idea. It’s not nearly as funny or heartwarming as it thinks it is.

THE MEH:

“Much Ado About Nothing” – As a huge Joss Whedon fan, I normally lap up everything he puts in front of me. Shakespeare isn’t such a bad writer either. Unfortunately, “Much Ado” is one of the harder plays to update because the very premise is archaic and misogynistic. The usual suspects of the Whedonverse navigate the language with grace and thoughtfulness, but nothing they do can counter the fact that it’s a romantic comedy about arranged marriage and female “purity.”

“Outrage Beyond” – The person who introduced this film claimed that it wasn’t necessary to see the first “Outrage” film to follow the story in the sequel. Regardless, I had the nagging sense I was missing something throughout. Maybe it was a bad subtitle translation, but exciting camera work and over-the-top violence aside, this film left me beyond wanting.

GOLDEN GATE AWARD WINNERS:

Best Documentary Feature – “A River Changes Course”, Dir. Kalyanee Mam (Cambodia/USA 2012)

Best Bay Area Documentary Feature – “The Kill Team”, Dir. Dan Krauss (USA 2012)

New Directors Prize – “Present Tense”, Dir. Belmin Sölyemez (Turkey 2012)

Honorable Mention – “La Sirga”, Dir. William Vega (Colombia/France/Mexico 2012)

FIPRESCI Prize – “Nights with Theodore”, Dir. Sébastian Betbeder (France 2012)

Best Narrative Short – “Ellen Is Leaving”, Dir. Michelle Savill (New Zealand 2012)

Best Documentary Short – “Kings Point”, Dir. Sari Gilman (USA 2012)

Best Animated Short – “Kali the Little Vampire”, Dir. Regina Pessoa (Canada/France 2012)

Best Bay Area Short, First Prize – “3020 Laguna St. In Exitum”, Dir. Ashley Rodholm, Joe Picard (USA 2013)

Bay Area Short, Second Prize – “More Real”, Dir. Jonn Herschend (USA 2012)

New Visions – “Salmon”, Dir. Alfredo Covelli (Israel/Italy 2012)

Best Family Film – “Luminaris”, Dir. Juan Pablo Zaramella (Argentina 2012)

Family Film Honorable Mention – “I’m Going to Mum’s”, Dir. Lauren Jackson (New Zealand 2012), “Jonah and the Crab”, Dir. Laurel Cohen (USA 2012)

Youth Work – “The Dogmatic”, Dir. Lance Oppenheim (USA 2012)

Youth Work Honorable Mention – “Last Stop Livermore”, Dir. Nat Talbot (USA 2012)

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

SFIFF Review: Sofia’s Last Ambulance

2013 SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated 
75 minutes

***

The title is a bit of an exaggeration. The team we follow in “Sofia’s Last Ambulance” is one of 13 ambulances in the financially-crippled health service of Sofia, Bulgaria, a city that’s home to about 2 million people. You wouldn’t take odds like that in Vegas, so it’s even more dispiriting when you consider that lives are literally at stake. Ilian Metev’s debut documentary is a grimly gripping condensed version of the professional lives of three paramedics who spend every shift attempting to save as many lives as possible and not always succeeding.

The narrative is a little loosey goosey, but it lends itself to the feeling of incessant horror that these people endure. The footage was filmed over a two-year period and is constructed into one long hellish night for seasoned doctor Krassimir Yordanov, driver Plamen Slavkov and nurse Mila Mikhailova who’s chipper loquaciousness anchors everyone to the tolerable side of things.

The dashboard mounted cameras get in the action without getting in the way. The fixed fly-on-the-wall motif places the audience in a unique position of reverse point-of-view, allowing us to study their reactions to every moment. It’s a one-sided conversation, but we have all the information we need. Anything more would feel exploitative. Besides, if it was worth calling an ambulance under these conditions, you know it’s probably pretty bad. Frequently, the camera cuts to the faces of those listening rather than talking, forming a continuous reaction shot. Their expressions serve as silent voiceover. They are strong because they have to be, but they also seem one bad night away from snapping.

Theirs is not the last ambulance, but may as well be. They go anywhere they are needed, whether it’s the far end of town or out of town entirely. A couple of times, they have trouble finding their destination, knowing full well that with every passing moment, their patient’s chance of survival diminishes. These are people who constantly exist in the worst-case scenario of their jobs. Nurse Mikhailova does her best to keep spirits high, and yet you can see the same weariness in her eyes. Her mothering skills come in handy not just with injured children in their ambulance but also with her colleagues.

“Sofia’s Last Ambulance” has a unique structure. It’s deliberately one-sided but in a lot of ways, it’s the only side to be on. It’s hard to recommend a film like this, because it’s not exactly a good time watching people who deal exclusively in life and death. But it’s an important film. It’s one of those films that serve to remind us Westerners how good we actually have it. These are real life superheroes that have chosen the difficult path because it’s the right thing to do.

But they have families of their own to care for and are clearly torn. Nurse Mikhailova must say goodnight to her daughter over the phone. Dr. Yordanov is the only resuscitator in Sofia. How can he ever quit? They’re cops, guidance counselors, benefactors and problem solvers. They do everything they can to help people because no one else will. They make being Batman look easy. Spider-man’s problems seem trivial in comparison. Hell, they make a lot of careers seem trivial; film criticism, for instance… Their job is the epitome of thankless. You owe it to them to see the world through their eyes.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

SFIFF Review: After Lucia

2013 SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Rated R
103 minutes

***

Michel Franco’s “After Lucia” is about the quiet dissolution of a family following the death of its matriarch. Having just picked up the nearly totaled car that took his wife’s life, Roberto (Hernán Mendoza) decides to abandon his old life by the side of the road and move himself and his daughter Ale (Tessa Ia) to a new city. This clean break is the last good decision that either of them makes. Unlike their car, they are irreparable. They are so convinced that pretending everything is fine around one another is the right thing to do, that they stay the course as things increasingly disintegrate.

At first, Ale fits in well at her new school. She gets invited to parties and attracts the attention of some of the popular boys. But one false move later, she becomes Public Enemy Number One. The bullying reaches a fever pitch so brutal that it can only be allegorical. Literally everyone in her class is in on making her as miserable as possible at every moment. It’s never clear why she doesn’t fight back. Part of her might think she deserves it because she survived the wreck that killed her mother. But since there’s no legitimate reason for her to put up with it and keep it to herself, it’s all quite difficult watch.

The only music in the film is diegetic, leaving the audience to their own devices for sentiment. There are no big speeches or voiceovers. Since no one says how he or she feels, we have to imagine it ourselves. And it’s hard not to imagine the worst. This is the film’s cruelty to its audience. It’s an interesting way to tell a story, but not a very pleasant one to hear.

“After Lucia” is an emotional horror film along the lines of “We Need to Talk About Kevin” that builds slowly and uncomfortably. The characters are often shot from behind, or across a room, emphasizing the distance between father and daughter. When the camera does get close, it’s usually when something really horrible is happening. It often feels like torture porn, especially when things reach sexual assault level. This isn’t so much an exposé on school bullying, as it is a depiction of the abyss of grief. It’s a testament to the performances that I stuck with this film. It’s part hard truth, part cautionary tale and an all-around traumatic experience for everyone involved.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

Film Threat Review: Disconnect

2012
Rated R
115 minutes

***

At first glance, “Disconnect” seems a cautionary tale about the many dangers of the Internet. The characters in the film are all negatively affected in real life by their online interactions. But the reality is that people have never been that great at dealing with each other. The Internet only makes interpersonal relationships seem easier.

There are three loosely interconnected stories in “Disconnect.” Cindy (Paula Patton) and Derek (Alexander Skarsgard) are struggling to cope with the sudden death of their infant son. Instead of turning to each other, they each turn to a different mode of digital escapism. She bares her soul to a purported widower in a grief support chat room while he numbs himself with online gambling. Though it’s never clear whose activities are responsible for the ensuing identity theft that leaves them broke, the Internet Crime Investigator they hire suggests that Cindy’s chat partner is to blame. So when the police are unable to help, they decide to take matters into their own hands.

Meanwhile, Mike the aforementioned Investigator (Frank Grillo), himself a widower, fails to connect with his teenage son, Jason. With the help (and influence) of his friend, Jason (Colin Ford) takes his frustration out on a classmate named Ben (Jonah Bobo) by posing as a female admirer on Facebook. But when Jason uses some of his own personal details in their heart-to-heart chats, he takes a shine to the sensitive loner and is wracked with guilt when their prank results in tragedy.

Ben’s dad, Rich (Jason Bateman), struggles to figure out exactly when he and his son became strangers and Ben’s sister (Haley Ramm) agonizes over never standing up for him when she had the chance. Ben’s mother (Hope Davis) doesn’t have a whole lot to do here other than give looks of consternation. This is a rare weak point in the otherwise excellent script.

The final thread involves an ambitious television reporter (Andrea Riseborough) who abuses the rapport she has forged with a teenage sex cam prostitute (Max Thieriot) in pursuit of her big break. The results are devastating for both parties in ways they could never have imagined.

There is a paranoid read of this film, but I believe it exists only for people who are already apprehensive about the World Wide Web. Though all of the scenarios in Andrew Stern’s script are based on true stories, they could have happened in a pre-wired world. The details would be different, but the results wouldn’t be. This film isn’t about the hazards of the Internet so much as it’s about what can happen to people who withdraw and/or aren’t honest with one another.

That’s what makes “Disconnect” so disturbing. It’s not that the Internet is eroding society. The Internet merely magnifies the pre-existing emotional erosion of humanity. Identity theft is just another outlet for the age-old grift. Before cyber-bullying, there was regular bullying. As long as teenagers have existed, they have refused to tell their parents anything about their lives. Journalists have always exploited people for a good story. As long as babies have been dying, couples have let their grief tear them apart.

It’s not all doom and gloom. “Disconnect” doesn’t overlook the positive aspects of the information superhighway. Rich actually learns more about his son through his Facebook profile than he ever would have gotten out of him in a conversation. Cindy and Derek are at first understandably mortified when their Internet histories are exposed to one another. But after they have time to process the information, they are able to use it as a jumping off point for reconnection.

Director Henry Alex Rubin (“Murderball”) brings a Soderbergh sensibility to his storytelling. That’s not always a good thing, mind you. But it works here. There were a couple of moments when I thought the narrative was going to dip into melodrama, but despite an editing misstep at the climax, they managed to keep things on the side of realism. The interconnectedness of the stories seems like a contrivance at first, but in a world in which we can direct message celebrities on Twitter, we really are just a click away from one another.

The performances are excellent all around but Jason Bateman is particularly engaging. He has always excelled at comedy (even when the scripts were complete tripe), but it’s clearly not the only trick up his sleeve. I guess all those very special episodes of “The Hogan Family” finally paid off.

Colin Ford has had a lot of practice looking tortured as Young Sam Winchester on “Supernatural.” But he’s not the only minor in this film with major talent. The days of Ron Howard cutesiness are over. Child actors are now expected to bring the drama as much as any of their adult colleagues.

As you may have surmised, “Disconnect” isn’t exactly a fun movie. It doesn’t necessarily bare repeat viewings. I’m fairly certain there isn’t a single joke in the entire two hours. But, as my husband noted, a movie doesn’t have to be fun to work. Movies like this haunt you for days. The Internet isn’t malevolent, but it’s comprised of humans and we don’t always use our free will for good. “Disconnect” makes you want to be a better person both online and IRL.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct). 

Film Threat Review: The Place Beyond the Pines

2013
Rated R
141 minutes

*****

Proving that he was no one hit wonder, Derek Cianfrance follows up “Blue Valentine” with a stunning slow-burn epic about fathers and sons and how one mistake can having a rippling effect that taints the lives of everyone it touches. “The Place Beyond the Pines” is an ambitious film and it has every opportunity to slip into insufferable melodrama. But Cianfrance and his brilliant ensemble remain in perfect control as the story hurls forward. Don’t worry guys. They’ve got this.

Cianfrance turns chronological storytelling on its ear by trisecting the film, shifting focus from Gosling to Cooper to the resulting teenagers whose fates were set in motion in the same moment. We start in late-nineties Schenectady with Handsome Luke (Gosling), a non-ironically nicknamed motorcycle stunt driver in a travelling carnival, who runs into Romina, a one-night-stand (Eva Mendes) from his last visit. As he escorts her home, they have an awkward conversation in which Romina reveals that she has a man. She just wanted to see Luke one more time.

Curiosity piqued, Luke returns to her house the next day only to come face to face with a baby just old and blonde enough to be his. Suddenly struck with a sense of responsibility, Luke decides he must stick around and provide for the child, even though Romina doesn’t need or want him to. He takes her resistance as a challenge and sets off to find gainful employment. But “gainful employment” means something different to a carnie stunt driver (namely crimes). Under the tutelage of a mechanic named Robin (Ben Mendelsohn), Luke successfully knocks off a couple of banks before getting increasingly adrenaline-drunk and sloppy. This leads to a run-in with rookie cop, Avery (Bradley Cooper) that changes everything.

In Avery’s narrative, he struggles to find the right side of accountability to the detriment of his marriage and career. And then the story jumps fifteen years to present-day when Avery and Luke’s sons have a chance meeting of Shakespearean proportions, and strike up a friendship far more significant and volatile than either of them realize. Avery Jr. (A.J.) buries his identity crisis under a veneer of Guidoism. Meanwhile, Luke’s son, Jason can’t stop obsessing about his origins despite a healthy home life.

In case you couldn’t tell, I loved the crap out of this movie. Cianfrance has crafted a gripping meditation on paternal identity and fuzzy morality. And he cast it perfectly. I’ll be damned if Ryan Gosling isn’t the most fascinating actor working today. Though there are undeniable similarities between “Pine’s” Handsome Luke and the Driver in “Drive”, it’s less typecasting and more a chance for Gosling to expound on a very complex character study. At this point in his career, it seems Gosling is utterly incapable of making poor choices.

Bradley Cooper isn’t doing too shabby himself. In “Pines,” he tops his Academy Award nominated performance in “Silver Lining’s Playbook” and is poised to become the next big exceedingly handsome character actor.

“The Place Beyond the Pines” isn’t the Gosling and Cooper show. Though Gosling’s supernatural magnetism drives the first 1/3 of the film, it does not dominate it. This film is a true ensemble, garnished with flawless performances from the likes of Eva Mendes, Mahershala Ali, Ben Mendelsohn and Ray Liotta (though Liotta IS type-cast). The kids (Dane DeHaan and Emory Cohen) deftly wield some pretty weighty dramatic battleaxes as the embodiments of parental nightmares. My one criticism is that I wouldn’t have minded seeing a bit more of Romina, the lone female in this artistic sausage party. Mendes has never been better and her chemistry with (real-life boyfriend) Gosling is incontestable.

Not to sound too much like Stefan, but this movie has everything: A dense script, interesting camera work, a graceful soundtrack, flawless acting, action, violence, romance, some well-timed jokes and a dancing dog. It’s so suspenseful that the dramatic themes sneak in almost unnoticed until you find them punching you in the gut. And then that pain stays with you. It’s as much a cautionary tale as it is a story about inevitability. Though one thing’s for certain: Ladies, never have unprotected sex with a drifter, no matter how much he looks like Ryan Gosling.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

Film Threat Review: The We and the I

2013
Unrated
103 minutes

***

It seems like a great number of adults forget what it was like to be a teenager. Maybe it’s because they somehow got out of that period unscathed. Maybe they’re suppressing some serious trauma. Perhaps the modern clothes and music that they don’t understand distract them into thinking “I was never like THAT.”

But they were. We all were. I haven’t forgotten. And as long as films continue to accurately depict the horror show that is high school, I don’t see how I ever could. There are films that romanticize it to some degree (e.g. “The Breakfast Club”) and films that fantasize about ways to survive it (e.g. “Heathers”). And then there’s Michel Gondry’s “The We and the I,” a flawed, but still chillingly accurate illustration of that hormonal war that drafts every single one of us on our way to becoming fully realized humans.

Gondry is a singular director who clearly wants to try everything. The one connection amongst his incredibly diverse body of work is that each film is unlike any other contribution to whatever genre it falls into. “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” was a reinvention of the romantic comedy. “Dave Chapelle’s Block Party” was a music documentary that focused more on the community that music creates than on the music itself. “The We and the I” is Gondry’s version of a John Hughes film. It’s partly scripted, partly non-fiction and wholly genuine.

It’s the last day of high school and the students enjoy a brief moment of free air before boarding a tinier version of the social prison they’ve been sentenced to for four years. The only thing that separates this city bus from a school bus is the (reluctant) presence of civilians. It’s enough to make a masturbating hobo (more prevalent on a public bus than you might think) seem quaint.

It’s not long before the scant grownup commuters, unable to ride in their preferred collective invisibility, evacuate the budding war zone. But there’s no escape for most of these kids. Not yet. They’re still trapped inside their awkward, ragingly hormonal bodies. The bus is a microcosm of their teenage social lives and it’s god-awful for every single one of them, from the lowliest nerd to the popular kids who reign over the rear seats.

For two years, Gondry worked with students at The Point, a community arts center in the South Bronx, to create these characters. Though Gondry drew up a twenty-page outline (along with Jeffrey Grimshaw and Paul Proch) to keep the narrative on track, the kids all play themselves. The final script was a collaboration of Gondry’s own recollections of youth and the true back-stories of these urban students, where there were numerous parallels. While there are certainly some striking differences between the socioeconomics of the South Bronx versus, say, a high school in France, Gondry doesn’t focus on any of that. Instead, he highlights the universality of being a teenager.

No one is safe. In the world of a teenager, there’s no such thing as personal property. Journals are snatched away, ridiculed and ripped up. Backpacks are thrown out the window. Clothes are ruined by pudding. A guitar is smashed, which is fine for the rock and roll star that can afford another, but a tragedy for a kid who probably toiled for months to buy that one. The fact that it’s the last day of school creates a more intense interaction between the students. For some, it’s the last time they will see each other and that makes them more honest and emotional. The kids turn on each other in an instant. They’re balls of Id banging together in a confined space. Not much happens, plot-wise. But somehow it’s simultaneously compelling and horrifying, like one of those abused farm animals videos that vegans like to make.

Of course, certain fabrications were necessary to achieve that level of “realness.” The actual bus ride doesn’t take nearly as long as the film’s 103-minute running time. Gondry employs his signature whimsy in flashbacks and YouTube videos that fill the audience in on the back-story. The prevalence of cell phones may date the film, but even before every teenager had one, they still managed to spread gossip like wildfire. No secret stayed secret very long.

Though the film takes place in modern day, Gondry got the idea from a memorable bus ride in 90s Paris, during which twenty or so students piled on at the same stop and exited slowly, with the dynamic changing after each departure. At that age, they’re only just learning how to be introspective and how important that skill is in interacting with others. They have to be separated from “the We” to become “the I.”

In order to survive high school, you have to either blend in, or defiantly stand out. There is no in between. It really does get better. But it’s not hard to see how escape can seem impossible. Teenagers are teenagers no matter their socioeconomic background. They’re vulnerable and cocky, selfish and casually cruel. They have yet to realize how their actions affect those around them, yet nearly everything that happens TO them, from getting invited to the right parties to sexual assault, carries the exact same (substantial) emotional weight.

The film can feel tedious when some of the less natural performers are on screen. It is also a bit repetitive at times, (especially with the use of Young M.C.’s “Bust a Move”) but that repetition also lends itself to a sort of rhythmic editing. Gondry cut his teeth on music videos after all.

Regardless of its problems, “The We and the I” is required viewing. It very well may be one of the most important films about teenagers ever made. It’s crucial that we grownups don’t forget our teenage years. If adults don’t show teenagers empathy, how are they ever going to learn it themselves?

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).