SIFF Review: Paul Williams Still Alive

2012 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
84 minutes

**

If you think about it, “Paul Williams Still Alive” is a somewhat insulting title for a documentary about the diminutive, floppy haired jack of all entertainment trades who served as director Stephen Kessler’s childhood idol. In his new film, Kessler never misses a chance to call Williams a has-been, even while he professes his own undying devotion. This is probably the real reason Kessler didn’t have any friends when he was growing up. That may sound like a cheap shot, but Kessler is the one who invites the audience into his personal life. There are few things more narcissistic than making a documentary about you, which is probably why Stephen Kessler tried to make it seem like his film is actually about Paul Williams. A more accurate title would have been “Stephen Kessler: Please Notice Me”.

It’s possible that Kessler feels a little guilty about this. He leaves in several instances of Williams scolding him for attempting to insinuate drama and discontent where there is none. It’s true that the composer behind some of the most beautiful songs ever written (including several Carpenter’s songs and “The Rainbow Connection”) disappeared for a while to battle drug and alcohol addiction. But he left all that behind almost twenty years ago and has since found an inner peace on the road, playing to small but enthusiastic crowds as he travels all around the world with his wife.

Kessler tries the best he can to drum up Behind the Music-style melodrama, but Williams is having none of it. Kessler has no idea how to gently coax an honest moment out of his subject, opting for a passive-aggressive approach that is clearly messing with Williams’ harmony. So Kessler instead turns the camera on himself, making it the story of how a Paul Williams super fan came to fulfill his childhood dream of professionally pestering his hero. If you go into the film with zero knowledge of the documentarian or subject, you will know more about the filmmaker within the first fifteen minutes than you will about the person you tuned in to see.

To be fair, it is Williams who suggests that Kessler officially join the narrative, but I kind of think it’s because he wanted a break from interviews full of leading questions. Eventually, Williams seems to warm to Kessler, as they bond over a taste for squid and the nervous giddiness of traveling through terrorist-ridden Philippine jungles where Americans aren’t super popular. That’s more of a testament to Williams’ magnanimous personality than it is to misconceived first impressions.

I have to give the editor credit. He seems to sense when Kessler overstays his welcome and distracts with footage from Williams’ heyday. These clips are the real reason to watch the film. He’s had guest spots on a million TV shows (hyperbole) and has been working pretty steadily, even throughout his wet years.

This is a man who was on Johnny Carson fifty times (not hyperbole) and acted in several films including the “Smokey and the Bandit” series and “Battle for the Planet of the Apes.” He also wrote some incredible soundtracks including Brian De Palma’s ahead-of-it’s-time camp classic “Phantom of the Paradise” and the goddamned “Muppet Movie.” Most notably, he was a hit-maker for Three Dog Night, Elvis, Bowie, Sinatra and Barbara Streisand, with whom he also shares an Academy Award for “Evergreen.”

With flamboyant clothes, mop top hair and elfin features, he had a very unusual look, even by seventies standards. With no Channing Tatumness to fall back on, he achieved success with pure talent and charisma. Not many people can say that. A man this accomplished is certainly worthy of cinematic celebration. I hope that someday, a filmmaker comes along who can give that to him.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

June 18, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SIFF Review: Lola Versus

2012 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
89 minutes

***

Sometimes, in the course of writing about a movie I liked, I come to find that my first impression might have been hasty. Ostensibly, “Lola Versus” follows the long-overdue trend of Rom Com re-invention pioneered by “Bridesmaids” and HBO’s “Girls.” But I’m beginning to wonder if the movie only works so well because of Greta Gerwig in the titular role. The moment that planted this seed of doubt in my brain occurred when, at the post-screening Q&A, scribes Daryl Wein and Zoe Lister-Jones identified the city of New York as “a character in the film.” (Note to people who make films in New York: We get it. You love your city. Now please shut up about it.) If the writers would say something so pretentious and cliché about their film, perhaps it’s not really as groundbreaking as it seems. Nonetheless, Gerwig’s congeniality and omnipresence are clearly enough to distract from the film’s problems.

Lola is a 29-year-old post-doc student who is bursting with contentment in her New York loft that she shares with Luke, her handsome artist fiancé. But when Luke abruptly calls off the wedding, Lola finds her once-perfect world in upheaval. As a result, she finds herself at odds with the world as she descends into a shame spiral of binge eating, extreme cleansing and sexual rebounding. Much of Lola’s floundering would be tedious in the hands of a conventional actress (like a Heigl or a J-Lo). I don’t know how versatile Gerwig is, but she’s damned good at playing affably troubled women.

There are many “versus” with whom Lola is contending. But the appalling double standard regarding oat sewing is one of the big ones. After two of her paramours run into each other, Lola is blindsided by admonition. “I’m slutty, but I’m a good person,” she protests. Even in these sexually liberal modern timey times, nice women are not supposed to have meaningless sex. If a man doesn’t say, “let’s be exclusive,” he’s not her boyfriend and is therefore free to have his cake and eat hers too (cake being a metaphor for lady junk). But if a woman has sex with a man once, they are dating unless he explicitly says they aren’t.

There are other genuinely astute observations in “Lola Versus.” Many involve affectionate ridicule of hipster culture (Lola binges on rice chips. A man at the butcher shop asks in-depth questions about the origins of their meat). Lola’s scenes with the embodiment of nightmare dates (played to the hilt by Ebon Moss-Bachrach) will be cringingly familiar for much of the female audience. These elements make it seem miles apart from the vacuous Rom Coms that trivialize romantic relationships. But Lola still has a male best-friend-turned love interest (Hamish Linklater, doing his best with a generic character). She also has a piss and vinegar-laden female best friend, Alice (Lister-Jones), who dispenses love advice amidst her own romantic failures. Alice also furnishes the film with saucy jokes because you can’t have a comedy about modern women without someone casually mentioning their vaginal hygiene. I’m sure a lot of people will find her character delightfully irreverent, but I’m getting a little tired of that schtick. Why does a normalish female protagonist always have to surround herself with snark robots?

If you ask me, Lola gets a little screwed over by her friends who are at least partially responsible for driving her to the brink of insanity. It’s hardly surprising given her limited social circle. With Luke out of the picture, she is left only with Henry and Alice for support. For a while, she finds solace with Henry until he confesses to having a long time crush on her just when she is at her most vulnerable (one of the more realistic plot contrivances). She gets along with her parents but, despite their liberal leanings, they don’t have any advice beyond feeble parental platitudes. When Henry and Alice get sanctimonious toward the end of the film, Lola falls through her already weak safety net into an epic bender. However, the script never calls them on their friendship lapse, seemingly placing the blame entirely on Lola’s shoulders. This rubbed me the wrong way during the film and only continues to fester the more I mull it over.

At one point, Lola shares a revelation that the old adage about not being able to love others till you love yourself is backward. She won’t be able to love herself until she learns to love other people. For her sake, I hope she finds some lovable people soon.

Originally posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

June 14, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: 2 Comments

SIFF 2012 Review: Earthbound

2012 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
90 minutes

**

“Earthbound” is a bit of a Dr. Who riff on the hijinks of a lonely alien experiencing modern day Europe. Only, in this case, we’re kept guessing about whether Joe (Rafe Spall) is actually the man who fell to Earth or the one who flew over the cuckoo’s nest. His beliefs are the result of his father’s deathbed confession that the pair of them escaped from planet Zaxalon years ago to avoid death via the ritual sacrifice of an invading alien species. Joe must continue posing as a human to avoid Zalador’s ever-watchful bounty hunters. That’s a lot of heavy stuff to lay on an impressionable 11-year-old. A young boy has a hard enough time trying to fit in without the baggage of believing he’ll never live a normal human life because the entire fate of a species rests on his shoulders. So “Earthbound” is either about an orphaned alien in Dublin attempting to fulfill his destiny, or it’s about a young man who, thanks to his manic-depressive father, has been living a lonely, delusional life. Separately, either of these plots might have made really good films. But together, the two stories never gel. Writer/director, Alan Brennan, wastes so much time keeping us guessing that he forgets to develop his characters. By the time he reveals the truth, you’re no longer invested in the ending. You just want it to end.

On the bright side, the film maintains a light, campy tone that forgives many of its flaws. References to other comic book and sci-fi stories are so prevalent that it sometimes feels a bit like plagiarism. Joe is basically a reverse Superman as he is weakened, not strengthened by the Earth’s yellow sun. Thus, he has an endless list of allergies and ailments. His father provides beyond-the-grave guidance via a holographic database, bringing to mind Jor-El’s crystal messages in the Fortress of Solitude. These references also lend to the question of his sanity. Are the comics and movies really misinterpretations of the real deal? Or did pop culture help Joe flesh out his fantasy?

We see the story from Joe’s point of view so even though his sanity is constantly in question, we’re privy to plenty alien business. His paranoia regarding the bounty hunters keeps things suspenseful. Are those shifty fellows from H.R. just waiting for their moment to strike, or do they really just want to give Joe a promotion? Spall’s performance is endearing, channeling the joy, excitement and adoration for humanity that David Tennant displayed on Dr. Who. He’s not so much a force to be reckoned with as the 10th doctor, but he’s brave and determined. It’s mainly the romantic aspect of this Sci-Fi RomCom that falls short.

Joe has zero chemistry with his love interest, Maria (Jen Murray). Joe only decides to pursue her when the alien device on his wrist identifies her as a one-in-a-million genetic match for mating. Genetic compatibility is not quite the same thing as love at first sight. Maria’s attitude toward Joe seems to fluctuate between wariness and pity. He has to be very persistent to get her to go out with him. Even then, she only agrees because, as a last ditch effort, he happens to suggest one of her favorite activities (laser tag). Though they eventually move in together, Maria never really seems to like him all that much. Their relationship is, at best, a grammar school romance. Some of the blame may lie with the performances. I’ve never seen Jen Murray before so I don’t know if she’s always this bland. But I’m not sure even Billie Piper could have made the character endearing. Once Joe confesses his secret, Maria spends much of the rest of the film trying to get him committed. This one-in-a-million woman sure is a jerk.

Overall, I’d recommend spending a Sunday afternoon with “Earthbound.” But it’s definitely not marriage material.

Originally posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

June 14, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SIFF 2012 Review: Roller Town

2012 SEATTLE INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
75 minutes

***

There are several superbly funny bits in “Roller Town.” Members of the exceedingly Canadian sketch comedy group, known as Picnicface, are responsible for this surreal genre satire about a roller disco in jeopardy. Since I’m not familiar with the troupe, I have no idea how “Picnicface” this film is. I can tell you, however, that it is more than just a send-up of 70s roller disco movies. Though the writers do tend to get a little caught up in the novelty of it all, their shrewd comedic influences shine through. Fans of “Airplane!”, Stella and The Kids in the Hall will experience a hearty chuckle. But unlike the work of their influences, there isn’t a whole lot in “Roller Town” to revisit. By the end of the film, you’re reminded why it is that roller disco is dead.

One of the film’s writers, Mark Little, also plays Leo, an implausibly dashing Luke Wilson/Zach Braff hybrid with all the real world charm of Napoleon Dynamite. His love interest is Julia (Kayla Lorette), the naïve but rebellious daughter of the town’s mayor. Julia is so spellbound by Leo’s short short/striped sock ensemble that she is willing to do anything to help him save the rec cent…er, the roller disco… from a trio of particularly persuasive “investors” who want to turn the place into a video game arcade. Leo’s mission is made all the more imperative when he learns that these are the same men who murdered his father in cold blood years ago.

Little is fully committed to his character and, as a result, sells some jokes that might have fallen flat in the hands of a more self-aware actor. On the other hand, Leo is such a tool that it seems completely ludicrous, even in this fantastical context, that Julia would follow him around like a little lost puppy while he barely registers her existence. Nonetheless, it makes for a couple of successful physical gags in which Leo attempts to groom and mold Julia into a girlfriend he can stand to look at.

Some of the best moments in “Roller Town” belong to Leo’s other adversaries, a sweater-draped gang of preppies. The leader of the gang, who is also vying for Julia’s affections, is the best overconfident, obtuse bully since Biff Tannen. (Sample dig at Leo’s orphan status: “How does it feel to outlive your parents?”). He also elicits some terrific and increasingly intricate retorts from Leo, including my personal favorite, “I think I’ll make like a tree and stay exactly where I am for hundreds of years.”

A couple of recurring bits feel clever and original at inception but lose steam with every subsequent appearance. Songs from fictional disco trio, the Boogaloos, serve as scene bumpers and are as amusing as any SNL Digital Short (meaning they rely pretty heavily on dick jokes). A riff on Canadian currency and other national in-jokes may be lost on uninitiated Americans. I barely know all the names of the Royal Family let alone other notables who might grace their money. Is the Loonie a member of Parliament?

The film loses its way entirely in the third act, as both Leo and the writers behind him appear to completely improvise the haphazard and expedited conclusion. Regardless, these Picnicface people show a lot of promise in the comedy film arena. I hope that with their next outing, they focus on tightening the story more than they do Mark Little’s hot pants.

Originally posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

June 13, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Film Threat Review: Mansome

2012
Unrated
84 minutes

*

Morgan Spurlock has quite a few talented names in his address book. Good thing too, because without them to pad his latest vanity project, he might be exposed for the hack he’s starting to become. If anyone is going to like a documentary about facial hair, it’s me. I’m what you might call a beardthusiast. But Spurlock’s “Mansome” fails to expose any sort of substance behind the follicles.

Maybe it’s because there isn’t actually much to talk about. Some people like beards and some don’t. Some men can grow a beard and some can’t. There are many different ways a man can sculpt his facial hair. Some people embrace their hairiness and some people seek to debilitate their entire bodies. And sometimes someone who can grow a very long beard will end up with delusions of grandeur. That’s about all “Mansome” has to say on the subject. The only real insight it gives is into the waning career of a once celebrated documentarian.

The aforementioned famous names include producer/director Judd Apatow, congenial actor Paul Rudd, professional attractive person and Old Spice spokesman Isaiah Mustafa and manthority Adam Corolla. The ubiquitous Scott Ian, who is apparently an authority on every single aspect of pop culture, can barely mask his ambivalence about the subject. He clearly has not given his ever-present goatee nearly as much thought as Spurlock has his own self-professed “signature” handlebar mustache.

Spurlock just can’t help but make at least part of the film about himself. He decides to participate in a “Reverse Movember,” with the pledge to shave at the conclusion of Lance Armstrong’s mustache-themed national fundraiser. I couldn’t have been less entertained watching Spurlock transform his face from that of a hipster douchebag into that of a regular douchebag. Though it may have been worth it to hear his young son (who had yet to see his father clean-shaven) wail, “You don’t look any good.”

Zach Galifianakis and John Waters also appear to discuss their own iconic facial hair. Their vignettes serve as the shiny, warm center to an otherwise ice-cold piece of poo. Waters is gracious and charming as ever. While Galfianakis gets in some great lines, he carries the look of a man who would rather be elsewhere.

The film spends a woeful amount of screen time with a less humble lot, including a professional wrestler who shaves his entire body, a self-professed “Metrosexual” and “Worldclass Beardsman” Jack Passion, who erroneously insists that his trophies make him something other than a huge waste of conditioner and oxygen. About the only thing Spurlock does right in “Mansome” is to juxtapose Passion’s scenes with sound bites from Judd Apatow, Paul Rudd and John Waters asserting that a man would have to be a complete dillhole to create a “career” out of having a beard.

And just when you think the inanity has reached its peak, Spurlock introduces us to the creator of a product called “Fresh Balls,” the purpose of which is self-explanatory. If this were a Tim and Eric sketch, the concept might be worth pursuing. Sadly, Fresh Balls is a real product about which the inventor is dead serious.

Executive producers Gob and Michael Bluth (Will Arnett and Jason Bateman), bulk up the film with footage from their trip to a day spa. The men wax poetic about male grooming while they are unpoetically waxed. Though their banter remains light, you can see that both of them are thinking, “I’ve made a huge mistake.” At best, “Mansome” is an A&E special to be DVR’d and deleted. Commercials would have been a welcome break. It’s quite a slog through the 84-minute running time.

Early in his career, Morgan Spurlock seemed like an important documentarian. In retrospect, the premise of “Super Size Me” is somewhat of a no-brainer. But it went deeper than the hypothesis that fast food is bad for us. It evolved into a meditation on food addiction. It got people talking and paved the way for real introspection on what we consume. Similarly, his docu-series “30 Days” seemed to strive for real change by letting the audience walk a mile in another person’s shoes. Since then, he’s reverted to his vapid beginnings as an MTV host, filling our eye holes with tripe. Here’s hoping Mr. Spur-schlock takes a long look in the mirror and gives that ego a shave.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

May 18, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

Film Threat Review: The Five-Year Engagement

2012
Rated R
124 minutes

**

I suppose that when a film is called “The Five Year Engagement,” one should expect a certain amount of foot-dragging in the narrative. Before we watched the film, my husband joked that he hoped it wasn’t shot in real time. It’s not. But, unfortunately, it often feels as though it is. Turns out, it’s not a lot of fun to watch a relationship fall apart even if you know that eventually, everything will turn out just fine.

We join the too-cute couple, Tom (Jason Segel) and Violet (Emily Blunt), on the night of the proposal. Despite pitfalls at every step of Tom’s elaborate engagement plan, Violet accepts. But, as the title suggests, their journey to matrimony is not without a lengthy series of unfortunate roadblocks. The first is the shotgun wedding of Violet’s sister Suzie (Alison Brie) and Tom’s best friend Alex (Chris Pratt). The unlikely couple hooks up at the engagement party and, with one pee stick, manages to take the wind out of Violet’s wedding planning sails.

Then, Violet’s master plan is thwarted when she receives a rejection letter from the Berkeley post-doc program. She decides she can re-apply in a year and really focus on the wedding, until she gets accepted into the University of Michigan. It’s amazing how quickly and easily she convinces herself that this is a viable alternative. Despite Tom’s burgeoning career as a chef in San Francisco, and their general happiness in the city with their friends and family, moving to Ann Arbor suddenly becomes the be-all for Violet’s aspiring tenure track. She goes through the motions of talking it over with him, but it’s clear she’s already made up her mind.

Tom and Violet had only been together a year when they got engaged, so they never had much of a chance to get used to melding their lives together. Instead of coming up with a mutually beneficial solution, Tom concedes to Violet, cocooning his resentment and disappointment so that it may emerge in the third act, a fully formed Mothra of relationship devastation. This isn’t unrealistic. On the contrary, it’s a little too on the nose. Apart from a few jokes about penis shrinkage, it’s mostly Dramarama for these two.

Rest assured, there is more to the film than cantankerous couple voyeurism. Jason Segel and his “Muppets” writing partner, Nick Stoller, also mix in plenty of saccharine sincerity alongside the cringingly realistic arguments that a couple has when one half has put their own dreams on hold for the sake of the other.

There are also all the drunken shenanigans, dick jokes and random violence that we have come to expect from the Apatow brand. The supporting cast does all the comedic heavy lifting. It’s so polarized that I often wished the film were ONLY about Tom and Violet’s friends and family. Just as Suzie and Alex steal the show from Tom and Violet with their shotgun wedding, Brie and Pratt steal the movie from Segel and Blunt. In both cases, the theft is inadvertent, but the superiority of the pairing cannot be denied. I’m convinced that Alison Brie is some kind of acting superhero what with her ability to nail any acting feat, including a passable British accent. Meanwhile, Chris Pratt plays a slightly more perceptive version of his “Parks and Rec” counterpart, imbuing every line with equal parts hilarity and sincerity.

If they didn’t steal the show, someone else would have. Viable candidates include Lauren Weedman as Tom’s butch boss, Mindy Kaling as one of Violet’s classmates and Brian Posehn and Chris Parnell as Tom’s Michigan pals. Even Tim Heidecker, Kumail Nanjiani and Molly Shannon, whose combined screen time total that of Jason Segel’s bare bottom, are far more enthralling in their cameos than any of Segel or Blunt’s scenes together.

Additionally, I feel kind of bad for the state of Michigan. The characters shit on it in scene after scene. The narrative montages through the temperate seasons, stopping only in the wintery months. Nearly every establishing shot includes a gray pile of slushy snow. Winters there would be hard on a naturalized San Franciscan, but absolutely no one seems happy to live there. When Tom searches for a sous chef job, he is consistently laughed out of the restaurants for having left his job in the Bay Area. Even people who have embraced the local color (which apparently involves running shirtless through the streets in collegiate support, cross-bow hunting, unkempt facial hair and home-brewed mead) make frequent jabs at their home state, which I doubt is as dreary and backwoods as the screenwriters would have us believe.

But here’s the biggest problem with “The Five-Year Engagement”: When film moguls reach a certain level of fame, they become incontestable. Everything they touch is deemed gold, even if it is, in fact, a pig in turd lipstick. Given my love for “Freaks and Geeks,” I really hate to say it, but I’m afraid Judd Apatow has become one such Faux Midas. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. No comedy needs to be longer than 90 minutes. Period. Even “Bridesmaids”, an otherwise terrific film, had some noticeable fat to trim. But here, the excess is blindingly apparent. Let’s start with cutting all the cliché shots of the Golden Gate Bridge and streetcars, which open the film with the sole purpose of establishing location, when a single line would have sufficed. I lose track of how many times we flashback to the moment when Tom and Violet met, but anything more than once is too much.

Many jokes are driven into the ground so deep, they come out the other side. We get it. Everyone in the Apatowverse is a supernaturally talented improviser. Simply filling your film with talented people does not give you a license to just let them “do their thing” unfettered. Actors need fettering (especially actors who double as screenwriters). There is a reason why people take classes on how to write and make movies. It’s because there are rules. I’m not saying it’s never OK to break the rules. But you should have a comprehensive awareness as to why you’re doing it. For the record, just REALLY liking a scene is not a good enough reason.

There is also the sad fact that Jason Segel’s raunchy, lovesick puppy dog shtick is wearing thin. In fact, the entire Apatowverse is. Bawdy rom-coms are no longer a novelty hand. Unfortunately, it appears that these folks have no other cards. Perhaps it’s time to let someone else play.

Originally posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

April 27, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SXSW Review: Jeff

2012 SXSW INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL REVIEW!
Unrated
79 minutes

****

The film opens on a very lengthy shot of a fish tank. The camera pulls back to reveal a man with large glasses and an unsettling mustache. He’s clearly an actor portraying serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer, the necrophiliac cannibal who was convicted of the murder of seventeen men. “Is this not actually a documentary?” I wondered. Chris James Thompson could have made a dramatic narrative film. But he decided instead to get to the meat of the story by patching together reenactments from Dahmer’s quiet public life with first-hand accounts from the people who inadvertently got to know him better than anyone. The film doesn’t depict Jeffrey Dahmer’s human side, but rather, it shows a very detailed picture of the mask of humanity which he wore every day.

Although Thompson found an apt actor to play Dahmer (Andrew Swant), the interview subjects are best experienced first-hand, especially Dahmer’s former neighbor, Pamela Bass, and the lead police officer on the case. The two of them are characters in their own right. They, alongside the lead medical examiner, became three of Dahmer’s living victims.

Dahmer and Bass shared a seemingly ideal neighborly relationship. She would hang out in his apartment and they would chat over sandwiches that he made. The potential contents of those sandwiches, as well as a generally shocking breach of trust, still haunt her. They would greet each other in the hall and then he would get back to dismembering bodies on the other side of the wall that they shared. She has enough nightmare fodder to last the rest of her days.

The lead medical examiner, Dr. Jeffrey Jentzen, had the unfortunate job of sorting through the body parts they found stashed all over his apartment and attempting to assemble identifiable corpses. The audience hears about the head in the fridge and the jar full of penises, but we can only imagine how horrifying it must have been to have to get up close and personal with the atrocities that Dahmer committed.

The real star of the film is the police officer that led the investigation. Pat Kennedy is an engaging storyteller with a commanding mustache. He played the good cop during his three-day interrogation and eventually coaxed out a confession. But Kennedy’s involvement in the case bled into his personal life. In fact, the famous striped shirt that Dahmer wore during the trial was on loan from Kennedy’s son. Because of his weirdly congenial conversations with Dahmer, his co-workers joked that they were in a relationship. Meanwhile, the media frenzy and the long hours he kept put a tremendous strain on his family life.

Perhaps inspired by TV serial killer Dexter Morgan, the reenactments portray Jeff as he goes about his day. But unlike “Dexter,” it skips over the dastardly deeds showing only the casual way that Jeff runs normal errands alongside murderous ones. Through these scenes, the audience experiences what the rest of the world would have seen: A pleasant, if slightly curious, man going about his business.

His sinister errands, including buying a large barrel and dozens of bottles of bleach (and then carrying them home on a bus), were apparently not blatant enough to arouse suspicion. However, you’d think a hotel clerk would think something of a man who enters with a very light suitcase and leaves with a very heavy one. These scenes are an illustration of the classic account that witnesses give after a serial killer is caught. “He seemed so normal.”

Thompson’s documentary isn’t perfect, as it does leave an uninitiated audience wanting to know more. But it is definitely a good companion piece to the more traditional, informational documentaries out there. “Jeff” the film is a lot like Jeff the man. It seems nice and normal, but it leaves you with an unsettling feeling after you part company.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

April 4, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SXSW Review: Sun Don’t Shine

2012 SXSW INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
90 minutes

***

Every once in a while, an indie film will come along that receives universal praise. It will be the talk of the town and win awards. And then I will see the film and find myself disagreeing with everyone else. This is the case with “Sun Don’t Shine.” The weird thing is, I can absolutely see where all the film’s cheerleaders are coming from.

Writer/director Amy Seimetz oozes talent. Likewise the actors portraying the young couple on the lam have got some chops. I like the way the story unfolds slowly and what they’re running from reveals itself over time. What I can’t stand is Crystal (Kate Lyn Sheil), the shrewish and infantile simpleton that is the film’s female protagonist. Unfortunately she is in nearly every scene, whining like a mosquito and completely detracting from what is otherwise a very good movie.

I realize that she is like that for a reason. “Sun Don’t Shine” is clearly an antidote to the Hollywood portrayal of young criminals in love and on the road. This formula often turns out pretty well (“Wild at Heart,” “Natural Born Killers,” “True Romance”), but it also makes for a very stylized and glamorous portrayal of the depraved duo.

Thus, I do appreciate the truthful approach that Seimetz has taken and she succeeded on many levels. While not unattractive, Crystal and her beau, Leo (Kentucker Audley), are far from glamorous. They wear dirty, ill-fitting clothes and are perpetually drenched in sweat. Not the sexy Antonio Banderas kind of sweat either. You can almost catch their stench through the screen.

There’s nothing much sympathetic about Crystal or Leo. Still, I can look past many character faults in a compelling story. But there is just something about Crystal that rubs me the wrong way. Crystal is not of sound mind and body, but even a crazy person should recognize the magnitude of the favor in question. Instead of being grateful for Leo’s help, she just whines and mopes around. She makes dangerous mistakes and awkwardly attempts to seduce him whenever things aren’t going her way. She has all the sexiness of a scared adolescent girl in her mother’s makeup.

While they kill some time at a bar, Crystal follows Leo around like a puppy. Leo keeps pounding the drinks while Crystal yaps away and tries to throw her vagina at the problem. Most of the time, Leo doesn’t even seem all that interested, but there must be some reason why he’s sticking around. He is astonishingly patient with her considering the amount of pressure he is under. Though he does get fed up on occasion, such as in the explosive opening scene where the two of them fight in a mud puddle like wild animals. I can’t say I blame him. After all, she is the reason they are in this mess.

There is only one other female character in this film, and she too has a strange, infantile seduction technique. If a man had directed, I might suspect him of misogyny. Crystal is so shrill and grating. She’s not quite Kate Capshaw in “Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom,” but she’s not far off. However, since a lady was at the helm of “Sun Don’t Shine,” I’m going to have to assume that this is just the sort of thing Leo is into. Maybe it’s a masochism thing.

The look of the film is very unique and surprisingly beautiful despite muted colors and frequently overcast skies. The camera stays tight on the action, heightening tension and keeping the audience in the thick of it. Synecdoche shots of the underside of a steering wheel or the road through the bottom of the windshield help to convey the tediousness of road trips and are also a beautiful way to transition to the next scene. It’s been done before, but Seimetz’s composition and smooth editing make it feel brand new.

Chances are, you’re starting to think this sounds like a pretty good movie. And you’re mostly right. In fact, it seems more likely than not that you will LOVE it. Everyone else does. I would too if I could stand the character who occupies 90% of screen time. I truly look forward to seeing what Amy Seimetz does next. I just hope it doesn’t involve Crystal.

Originally published on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

April 2, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SXSW Review: Wonder Women – The Untold Story of American Superheroines

2012 SXSW FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
65 minutes

*****

I’m willing to bet that “Comic Book Heroines” has never been a category on Family Feud because Wonder Woman is not only the obvious answer, it’s practically the only answer. Meanwhile, mainstream films have spent so much time and money on male superheroes that they have to mine the dregs for new franchises. It boggles the mind that we have a Green Lantern movie and yet, we have never managed to bring Wonder Woman to the big screen. (And no, “Catwoman” and “Electra” do not count.) As least now we have “Wonder Women! The Untold Story of American Superheroines.” This thought-provoking and inspirational documentary about what a superheroine could and should be is a good start.

Kristy Guevara-Flanagan’s film covers the history of the best-known comic book heroine and how the image of strong women has morphed in the media since William Moulton Marston created her in 1941. There are so few female comic book protagonists (super or otherwise), that Guevara-Flanagan has to include basically all media to have enough to talk about. We have had some proud moments (“The Bionic Woman,” Ripley, “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”) and some embarrassing moments (The Spice Girls). Regardless, when you stack it all up against the sheer volume of male-oriented stories, it pales in comparison.

“Wonder Women” asks a lot of seemingly obvious questions that have somehow eluded us. One such question is, “What are the consequences when women become strong.” For women, there are always consequences. The film gives us a staggering statistic: Of the 157 female characters in action films, half are evil. The ones who are good end up dying in self-sacrificing ways, giving their lives for the dominant male heroes of the story. When Jean Gray becomes Dark Phoenix in “X Men: The Last Stand,” she is the most powerful mutant of all. But, because of her womanly ways, she is too weak, both mentally and physically, to control that power. And so she must die. The body count that Thelma and Louise leave behind is a drop in the bucket compared to what the Punisher gets done before breakfast. And yet, they have to die because there is no room in the world for a couple of lady vigilantes. After fighting tooth and nail for 3 films, Ripley ends up killing herself to save a fucking men’s prison colony.

In case you couldn’t tell, “Wonder Women” got me really riled up. The fact that women are mis/underrepresented in media is not news, but when you see it all laid out in chronological order like that, it’s pretty infuriating. Interviews with Lynda Carter (the “Wonder Woman” TV show) and Riot Grrrl pioneer Kathleen Hanna explore how the culture changed over time. “Ms. Magazine” founder and famed feminist, Gloria Steinem, beautifully orates how important it is for young girls to have super role models. Indeed, the film is filled with interviews with a multitude of smart, eloquent women explaining what should be evident but is so not: Girls need super heroes because they need to know that their gender is not an obstacle.

To drive the point home, the film also spends time with a couple of whip-smart young fan girls as well as a woman who wants to share Wonder Woman’s message of “Justice, compassion and friendship among women” with her daughter. She has a tattoo of the Amazon goddess to remind her every day of her own strength.

It’s not just the message of Guevara-Flanagan’s film that stirs. This is a well-paced and beautifully edited documentary, which deftly utilizes clips and photo animations. With a paltry 65-minute run time, it’s the first time in recent memory that I have wished a film were longer. This just drives home how parched we are for quality female-helmed and oriented films.

The good news is that there are some promising up-and-comers. They spend some time with students in a Seattle film program for girls. The students make their own film from start to finish. There are some very talented young ladies nipping at the heels of that big boy’s club known as the Film Industry. Here’s hoping they are able to break down the penis-enforced wall. Better yet, I hope that by the time they graduate from film school, their gender isn’t an issue at all.

It’s the personal stories that really got to me. I’m a tough nut to crack in terms of crying at a movie, but when the little girls started talking about what Wonder Woman means to them and how their moms are the real heroes, it was Niagara-fucking-Falls. If you have a daughter, it is a moral imperative that you show her this film as soon as possible. One little girl says that her mom “basically saves people every night” as a paramedic and that she would like to someday do the same. A fourth grade girl with a slight speech impediment talks about how Wonder Woman helps her through the pains of adolescence. “Sometimes I get picked on at school,” she says. “But I just tell myself, ‘Keep going, keep going, you’re going to be more.’ Because some day they’re going to be wishing that they treated me better.” You’re goddamned right they will, kid.

Originally posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

March 31, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

SXSW Review: Girls Against Boys

2012 SXSW FILM FESTIVAL SELECTION!
Unrated
87 minutes

*

I don’t know why Austin Chick decided to attempt a feminist film. Did he feel that his surname made it his destiny? It’s certainly not for any truly feminist reason because homeboy went about it all wrong. I imagine Mr. Chick as the sort of guy who took Women’s Studies in college specifically to bang the straight ladies in the class. He certainly wasn’t there to learn because there is not one iota of legitimate feminism in “Girls Against Boys.”

Now, I’m not saying that every Girls and Guns caper has to be polemic. But a revenge plot as personal as the one that Shae and Lu embark on implies that Chick is trying to be poignant about something. Is the intended theme of this film anything more than just “Rape is bad, mmmkay”? Only Austin Chick knows.

The tale of beautiful co-ed, Shae, begins as she gushes to her friend about the romantic weekend she’s about to have with her boyfriend. A little expository dialog reveals that said boyfriend is married, but that he is currently separated from his wife. Phew! But low and behold, her low-rent Jason Statham beau unexpectedly dumps her ass because he’s decided to try and work it out with wifey (for the sake of his daughter). That’s the first strike, Men!

Shae’s fellow bartender, Lu, offers to cure her of the mopes. The girls do what girls always do on Get Over Your Ex dates: They get completely hammered, flirt with strange men and then agree to go home with them. Once inside the comically hipster Brooklyn loft (they have a house D.J.), Shae realizes she is way more hammered than she thought and retires to the bathroom where she remains for several hours. Eventually, the boy who got dibs offers to take her home where of course he rapes her. That’s strike 2, Boys!

Immediately after the departure of her rapist, Shae calls on her ex-boyfriend to comfort her. Apparently, in British, “comfort” means “rape.” This girl cannot stop getting raped. Strike 3.

Shae tells Lu about her rapetastic weekend and Lu convinces Shae to report the crime to the always-helpful movie police. Naturally, the precinct is filled with male officers who see nothing wrong with a little in-out and they send her on her way. That’s strike 4. Being a woman, I don’t know that much about sports metaphors, but I think that’s the last strike on the way to becoming a vigilante murderer.

Lu totally saw this coming and has the foresight to seduce and kill one of the cops in order to procure a gun. Commence rampage. After that, if a fellow even looks at one of these ladies wrong, he gets a cap. Did I mention they do all of this in the skimpiest outfits imaginable? You don’t want all that clothing to get in the way of your vendetta. That’s feminism in a nutshell.

I kid. Not only is it not feminism, it’s also a really fucking stupid idea. First of all, we know (from movies!) that killing rapists never solves anything. You kill one and a hundred take his place. Plus, murder is the dumbest kind of revenge because it just makes it impossible for you to live a normal life after that. If you get raped and decide to take it through legal channels, even if everyone you meet along the way is completely unhelpful, you will eventually recover from the trauma.

On the other hand, Shae is date raped twice in as many days, so either she’s just having a really bad week or else she just has the absolute worst taste in men ever. If it’s the latter, it’s probably easier to pinpoint the chink in her selection process than it is to become a vigilante. Look, I know that this is meant to be a fantasy, but even in that context, Shae’s transformation feels totally out of the blue. That makes her seem more crazy than wronged. And thus, she is a lot harder to sympathize with.

Meanwhile, Lu has zero redeeming qualities (unless you count being “the hot one”). If we are to assume that Lu has killed before (and based on her cavalier attitude about it, I think we are), then the only reason she convinced Shae to report the rape to the police was to prove that they had to take the law into their own hands. Later on, Lu reveals that there was no trauma in her life to make her this way. So she really is just loony tunes. Implying that all women are crazy is just about the least feminist stance a director can take.

One might argue that the key to understanding Austin Chick’s message is in the Women’s Studies class that Shae is taking. One lecture is about how women are objectified in the media. But since Lu and Shae are beautiful, scantily clad women with virtually no back story whose lives revolve around either getting raped by men or killing them, it often feels like one big middle finger to Women’s Studies. If that’s his game, well then to him I say, “Fuck you.” If, on the other hand, he really was trying, I think he ought to consider retaking that class.

Originally posted on FilmThreat.com (now defunct).

March 31, 2012
Categories: Filmpinions . Tags: , . Author: Baxter . Comments: Leave a comment

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