|

  



|
| The
Wrap Up ... |
|
|
|

Happy
Feet
|
Not
long ago, the odds against movies about Emperor penguins winning
Academy Awards in successive years would charitably be put at
a million-to-one. That a third one, Sony's animated Surf's
Up, could be in contention for yet another Oscar next February
is almost too bizarre to contemplate. Happy Feet surprised
many observers by being named Best Animated Feature, over Disney's
similarly excellent Cars. If the academy gave trophies
for Best Choreography, Happy Feet might have won that distinction,
as well. Weird, considering circus elephants are lighter on their
feet than penguins. That the director of the Mad Max series
could produce such a delightful musical comedy also is far less
difficult to imagine when one remembers that George Miller
also was responsible for the two Babe movies, either as writer,
director or producer. Here, the misfit character is an irrepressible
penguin named Mumble (voiced Elijah Woods), who is more
likely to dance than waddle, and easily makes friends outside
the close-knit community. The DVD package adds two new animated
sequences, a private dance lesson with Savion Glover, a
pair of music videos from Gia and Prince, and Tex
Avery's 1936 cartoon parody of The Jazz Singer,
I Love to Singa. --
Gary
Dretzka |
|
|
|

Pursuit
of Happyness
|
Every time
Will Smith plays a character with a bit more depth than,
say, a robot hunter, alien killer or date doctor, academy voters
are so filled with surprise and admiration they reward him with
an Oscar nomination, as was the case with Ali and The
Pursuit of Happyness. Critics and publicists also acted
as if the Fresh Prince had emerged from a cocoon and ascended
on gossamer wings to Hollywood. It's time to face facts, kids.
Smith, who's approaching 40, is capable of acting with the best
of 'em, and has been doing so for many years. Until The Pursuit
of Happyness, however, Smith's so-called serious work has
been rewarded with only lukewarm box-office support. (If his
fans only want the kind of comedic action that opens on the
4th of July and is in video by Halloween, well, it's difficult
to fault Smith for delivering it to them.) The Pursuit of
Happyness tells the true story of a medical-appliance salesman,
who, despite being homeless and nearly penniless, beats the
odds by being accepted into an apprentice program at a prestigious
brokerage firm. Succeeding in his business pursuits wouldn't
mean anything to Smith's Chris Gardner if he wasn't also
able to provide for the son he has committed to raising as a
single parent. His struggle is, at once, heartbreaking, harrowing
and completely uplifting. In other hands than those of the gifted
Italian director Gabriele Muccino -- and on a lesser
budget than Smith's presence typically accords -- Happyness
might have packed all the emotional wallop of your average Hallmark
Hall of Fame production. A good part of the reason for the film's
success can be laid on the rapport between Smith and his real-life
son, Jaden, who has all the markings of a natural talent. The
extras include commentary by Muccino (Remember Me, One Last
Kiss), and featurettes on the Smiths, Muccino, the actual
Chris Gardner, An Italian Take on the American Dream and
Inside the Rubik's Cube. --
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
|

Children
of Men
|
Alfonso
Cuaron's terrifying vision of a world without children may
have told one of the most disturbing socio-political stories
of 2006, but it came disguised as one of the year's most exciting
thrillers, as well. Based on a 1993 novel by P.D. James,
Children of Men imagined a futuristic England that was so
divided by race and culture, it might as well have been Lebanon
at the height of its civil war or governed by the ultraviolent
droogies of A Clockwork Orange. It is 2027, and the last
time a baby was delivered was in 2009. In England, immigration
has been outlawed and terrorism is a way of life for Londoners.
The film's protagonist, Theo (Clive Owen), is a bureaucrat
who finds himself enmeshed in a crusade by the radical Human
Project to protect a woman who somehow managed to become pregnant,
and, as such, holds the key to the future of mankind. Whether
mankind is worth saving, however, is another question altogether.
Theo's race to rendezvous with a ship commissioned by the Human
Project to help the woman escape England is extremely exciting,
violent and creatively rendered. Cinematographer Emmanuel
Lubezki leads us and them through a vast urban concentration
camp, where government forces wage war on otherwise harmless
immigrants and a vast array of terrorists and freedom fighters.
As frightening as it, the chase also is fun to watch, as are
the small, gemlike performances by Michael Caine and
Julianne Moore. The DVD package adds deleted scenes,
the featurettes The Possibility of Hope and Under
Attack, the thoughts of social commentator Slavoj Zizek
and discussions of the futuristic design and visual effects.
--
Gary Dretzka
Children
of Men: With a vigorous, headlong visual style and an
eagerness to dispense with explication, Alfonso Cuarón's
canny present-tense futurism, a thriller set in the London of
twenty years from now, is also about the present moment, dispenses
with superficial science-fiction trappings to weave an enthralling
fable about the issues of immigration presently facing both
First and Third World nations.
|
|
|
|

Curse
of the Golden Flower
|
Zhang
Yimou's visually stunning follow-up to the vastly entertaining
House of Flying Daggers and Crouching Tiger, Hidden
Dragon will provide the perfect test for anyone's home-theater
system. The color scheme ranges from ultra-vivid reds, yellows
and gold, to inky black, which stands in discreet contrast to
flat black in scenes involving ninja attacks. The palette speaks
to the opulence and majesty of the court of Emperor Ping (Chow
Yun Fat), who reigned during the Tang Dynasty. Curse
of the Golden Flower describes the treachery surrounding
the emperor's plans for his succession. In a series of conspiratorial
events best described as Shakespearean, Ping's fanatical grip
of medieval China is tested by his wife, children, a former
lover and the imperial physician. Meanwhile, for his part, Ping
is slowly poisoning the Empress Phoenix (Gong Li), who's
the daughter of a onetime rival and engaged in an affair with
her stepson. All of the meshugaas comes to head on the eve of
the Chysanthemum Festival, 928 A.D., when her army of gold-armored
soldiers confronts the black ninjas and silver-suited soldiers
of her husband in courtyard of the palace, which has been transformed
into a carpet of brilliant yellow flowers. It would be interesting
to know how much Zhang paid the thousands of extras for their
work in the calamitous battle sequences (or, were they recruited
from the army, as often happens?). In Hollwyood, 90 percent
of the combatants would have been computer-generated. Chung
Man Yee's costume designs, which deserved the Oscar that went
to Marie Antoinette, are nothing short of amazing. The informative
making-of extras also add greatly to the enjoyment of Curse
of the Golden Flower. --
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
|

Casino
Royale
|
Before the
release last fall of the latest edition to the Bond canon, the
venerable MGM franchise was sorely in need of resuscitation.
Although the movies never lacked for action and guilty pleasure,
they rarely left audiences panting for more
or, for that
matter, able to remember what transpired between chases. Despite
Daniel Craig's excellent credentials as an appealingly
rugged leading man, the entertainment press took it upon itself
to raise as many doubts as possible about his ability to fill
the shows of Sean Connery, if not every 007 in between.
The ecstatic reviews that greeted Casino Royale -- and
Craig -- quickly forced the parasitic rabble-rousers in the
tabloids to eat their words. The series has always required
of viewers an abnormally large suspension of disbelief, and
that remains the case here. What's different, besides Bond's
light-brown hair, is Craig's ability to convince us of Bond's
vulnerability to pain; an inability to control all of his inner
demons, all the time; a tendency to treat women badly; and an
explosive temper. Neither did the star of Layer Cake
and Munich look as if he stepped out of pages of GQ,
circa 1960. In Casino Royale, his mission involved plugging
a pipeline that linked terrorists to amoral financiers. This
isn't to say Casino Royale is without cheeky humor or
romance. Bond-obsessives had plenty of fun with the screenplay's
sly tweaking of 007 clichés and iconography, an activity
made easier by their DVD players' ability to rewind and freeze
images. A second disc includes featurettes, Becoming Bond,
in which Craig's acting mission is laid out; James Bond:
For Real, which explores the action sequences and stunts;
the self-explanatory, Bond Girls Are Forever; and a video
of Chris Cornell's, You Know My Name. --
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
|

Rocky
Balboa
|
Considering
that almost everyone not named Sylvester Stallone probably
saw the word bomb written all over the posters for Rocky Balboa,
it's remarkable just how entertaining the sixth film in the franchise
series turned out to be. I'm guessing that's because the writer-director-star
has a far greater sense of humor about himself and broader perspective
on his primary meal ticket than anyone gave him credit for possessing.
On the face of it, the prospect of Rocky launching a George
Foreman-like comeback against a clearly more dominant athlete
is preposterous. Instead, Stallone conjured a scenario that's
relatively believable. A cable sports show commissioned a software
company to stage a computer dream match between an in-his-prime
Rocky versus the current champ, a boxer who many experts feel
may not be as good as his record would lead anyone to believe.
Despite the fact Rocky emerges as the cyber-winner -- in a classic
test of raw power over skill and athleticism -- the pugilist-turned-restaurateur
dismisses the results as nonsense. Champ Mason Dixon, however,
is convinced by his handlers that a real bout between the two
would boost his profile and dispel speculation he's ducking formidable
foes. No reputable boxing commission would approve such a bout,
despite Rocky being in great shape. But, when promoted as an exhibition
that would benefit charity, it became exactly the kind of pre-sold
hype-fest Las Vegas promoters drool over in their dreams. The
match itself, of course, is every bit as preposterous as it is
beside the point. Rocky has always been a fairy tale, and Rocky
Balboa is the biggest fantasy of them all
for the boxer,
Stallone and any aging Boomer who wants one last shoot at a title.
The set adds commentary by Stallone, deleted scenes, an alternate
ending, bloopers and making-of featurettes on the staging of both
the movie fight and computer simulation. --
Gary Dretzka |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Ghost:
Special Collector's Edition
The financial success of a movie is seldom based on the impact
of a single moment. But, Jerry Zucker's paranormal romantic-fantasy
Ghost is still recalled for the scene in which the ghost
of a New York financier manifests his sexual longing for the woman
he left behind, as she massages a ceramic phallus
er, sculpture.
By all rights, it should have been Whoopi Goldberg -- the
medium through whom Patrick Swayze's ghost relates to Demi
Moore's grieving widow -- who tickles the sculptor's fancy.
But, then, the scene would be as romantic as your average Three
Stooges short, and would have no resonance today. As far-fetched
as critics in 1990 considered the genre-bending film to be, word-of-mouth
publicity helped Ghost score one of the largest box-off
hauls of the '90s. This collector's edition adds commentary by
Zucker and writer Bruce Joel Rubin; a trio of featurettes,
a photo gallery and updated soundtrack. --
Gary Dretzka |
|
|
|
Harsh
Times
You never know what kind of movie in which Christian Bale
will turn up, next. The Welch native seems capable of portraying
characters that run the gamut from selfless superhero to Jesus
Christ, from vain yuppie psychopath to emaciated machinist.
In Harsh Times, he plays a former U.S. Ranger who returns to
the U.S. with more than one screw loose. After his dream of
becoming a L.A. cop evaporates, his Jim Davis lands a job with
the feds. (Apparently, Homeland Security values the services
of a hell-bent sociopath more than the LAPD.) Before that happens,
however, Smith decides to make one last ill-advised visit to
his girlfriend in Mexico in the company of a pair of his homeys
(Freddie Rodriguez, Chaka Forman). Smith is a gringo,
but, apparently, was raised in the barrio, where he assimilated
the local cholo culture and language. It's a tough role for
a Brit, but Bale doesn't embarrass himself. It's been a long
haul for writer-director David Ayers, who wrote Harsh
Times before he penned the similarly volcanic Training
Day, for which Denzel Washington won a Best Picture
Oscar (and Ethan Hawke was nominated in the supporting
category). Harsh Times proved to be too much of a downer
to warrant more than a brief theatrical release, but it should
find an audience in DVD among young males who don't mind a little
blood mixed in with their popcorn. Eva Longoria also
has a featured role, as a homegirl-with-a-future, but it isn't
nearly as hot as the one she plays in Desperate Housewives.
The extras are limited to commentary and deleted scenes.
--
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
Comic
Legends: Groucho Marx & Redd Foxx
Dick Van Dyke: In Rare Form
Larger than life in so many ways, Redd Foxx
and Groucho Marx were two of the most beloved and influential
comedians of the 20th Century. While the Marx Brothers were
famous as vaudevillians, movie actors, television stars and outrageous
personalities, Foxx toiled out of the spotlight of the media for
most of his career. He was an underground legend for his uninhibited
nightclub act and many raunchy party albums. In 1972, Foxx played
an irascible junk dealer in Norman Lear and Bud Yorkin's
hit sitcom, Sanford and Son. The material on Comic Legends
appears to have been taken from a TV series recorded sometime
in the early '70s. The material isn't great, but it easily serves
as an entry-level introduction to both men's techniques and anti-establishment
points of view.
Before he became a major sitcom star and actor in such popular
movies as Bye-Bye Birdie, Mary Poppins and Chitty
Chitty Bang Bang, Dick Van Dyke performed regularly as a guest
on television panel and variety shows. The material in In Rare
Form, is taken from the 1958-59 season of The Pat Boone Chevy
Showroom, in which he performed monologues, pantomime and
song-and-dance routines. Boone introduces some of the sketches
here, as well. --
Gary Dretzka |
|
|
Bosom
Buddies: The First Season
Mile High: The Complete First Season
Robin of Sherwood: Set 1
Hard Times
I Love Lucy: The Complete Seasons 7-9
Penn & Teller: Bullsh*t: The Complete Fourth Season
Without a Trace: The Complete Second Season
If anyone comes up with the money to finance a remake of Some
Like It Hot -- and, in no way am I suggesting that would be
a good idea -- the temptation to cast Tom Hanks in one
of the roles immortalized by Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis
would be irresistible. It was in the early-'80s, in the dopey
short-lived sitcom, Bosom Buddies, that Hanks would demonstrate
his ability to act in drag. His co-star, Peter Scolari, probably
wouldn't be considered a big enough name to work in such a re-make,
but, at the time, their Kip and Henry were inseparable. In the
show, the boys are evicted from their apartment and can only find
cheap digs in a rooming house for women. It was in the characters'
interest -- and that of the show -- for them to keep their fellow
lodgers from discovering the truth. Bosom Buddies was as
amusing as most of the schlock passing for comedy on the networks,
but that's not saying much. Scolari went on to be nominated three
times for his work in Newhart, while Hanks
well
was rarely seen again in prime-time television.
The sexy British series Mile High may not be great television,
but, as guilty pleasures go, it's terrific. Like that other salacious
BBC America dramedy, Footballers Wives, it balances soap-opera
romance with all manner of bad behavior. Unlike Footballers
Wives and The Office, however, Mile High isn't
likely to re-imagined for American consumption. The politically
incorrect representation of flight crews for a small British airline
as being universally beautiful, conspicuously bosomy and insatiably
horny -- if entirely capable of acting heroically in emergency
situations -- was deemed taboo years ago in the U.S. Here, the
cliché has been updated to include gay and bi-sexual pilots
and flight attendants, and women who are just as capable of exploiting
their assets as the athletes and businessmen who once famously
preyed upon stews on cross-country flights and in the bars of
Marina Del Ray. Typical of European imports and American cable
series, the show also featured gratuitous nudity, drug use and
naughty language. Filmed partially in the sun-drenched resort
towns of Spain, Mile High provided plenty of opportunities for
shots of flight attendants shedding their uniforms for the comfort
of bikinis. God bless 'em. The boxed set includes all 13 episodes
of the show's inaugural season.
Another newly released British import is Robin of Sherwood,
which, in the mid-'80s, re-told the legend of Robin Hood for European
audiences. In addition to the adventure and swashbuckling typically
associated with Robin of Loxley, Alex Kirby's mini-series addsed
large dollops of magic and mysticism to the realistic medieval
settings. Look for such actors as Michael Praed (Dynasty)
as Robin of Loxley, Ray Winstone (Sexy Beast) and
Nickolas Grace (Brideshead Revisted). The Irish
band Clannad provided the musical soundtrack.
John Irvin directed Granada Television's classy 1977 adaptation
of Charles Dickins' Hard Times. The novel pits wealthy
industrialists against impoverished workers, in a classic battle
between greed and humanism.
The latest addition to the I Love Lucy canon on DVD comes
from the years, 1957-60, and focuses on the hour-long specials
that CBS offered audiences as compensation for the discontinuation
of the weekly series. Although the Ricardos and Mertzes are living
in Connecticut, Ricky's work gives them plenty of opportunities
to travel near and far, and come in contact with stars upon whom
Lucy loves to impose herself. The package adds the rarely seen,
uncut version of Lucy Takes a Cruise to Havana, deleted
scenes, outtakes, vintage commercials and color footage taken
during the course of the show's run.
During the fourth season of the award-winning Bullshit! Penn
& Teller -- along with the folks who actually interviewed
various bunko artists and their debunkers -- took on such weighty
subjects as the Boy Scouts, prostitution, abstinence, the death
penalty and the restoration of Ground Zero. Although P&T never
tire of ridiculing those who disagree with the results of their
investigative reporting -- it's always easier to preach to the
already converted, even on cable TV -- the presentations are never
short of provocative (as well as being consistently entertaining).
The biggest mystery contained in the second-season set of Without
a Trace is what took CBS so long to release it. The show's
been on the air since 2002, after all, and many lesser series
have already been compiled for posterity. Here, some of this company's
most competent FBI agents tackle cases involving the hijacking
of a school bus, murderous twins, fake kidnappings and other disappearances.
The ensemble cast, led by Anthony LaPaglia and Poppy
Montgomery, is one of the best on TV. -
Gary Dretzka |
|
|
|
Deep
Sea: IMAX
Hacking Democracy
History Channel: Engineering an Empire
Following Sean
Originally released in large-format 3-D, Deep Sea: IMAX
naturally loses something in the translation from the really
big to small screen, but only in the most obvious ways. Otherwise,
Howard Hall's undersea documentary retains much of what's
kept it in theaters for more than a year. The disembodied voices
of Johnny Depp and Kate Winslet describe Hall's
mission and the wonders revealed by the submersible's cameras,
while Danny Elfman interprets those images in music and
sound effects. The real stars of the show, of course, are the
giant turtles, multi-colored squid, ninja shrimp and oddly shaped
fish that flash in front of the cameras. The 41-minute movie
comes with both wide-screen and square formats.
The HBO documentary Hacking Democracy describes the mechanical
process through which America elects its leaders. Muck-racking
may be an unattractive concept, but, at a time in American history
when greed and corruption consistently trump ethical behavior
and hard work, it is an essential journalistic pursuit and cog
in the wheel of democracy. Unfortunately, most muck-racking
occurs only after most of the animals have left the barn. Here,
the subject is the unreliability of voting machines and the
primary target is the Diebold company, which apparently isn't
as concerned about accuracy as one would expect from a company
being paid a great deal of money simply to count votes.
Somewhere along the line, architecture was designated a form
of art, while engineering was dismissed as a yawn-inducing blend
of science, math and construction work. The practitioners know
differently, of course. Architecture can be as boring, contrived
and aesthetically unrewarding as any other pursuit. Building
and problem-solving, as demonstrated in the History Channel's
terrific series Engineering an Empire, can be as exciting
as a Jackie Chan film festival. Host Peter Weller
examines the effect of engineering on great civilizations,
religions and history. The engineering marvels showcased here
have served both despots and peasants, and influenced artists
and fools in equal measure.
In 1969, director Ralph Arlyck made a short documentary
about a street urchin who lived in the apartment above his in
San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury and enjoyed smoking pot. Considering
the location, this wouldn't be unusual, except for the fact
that Sean was 4-years-old at the time. Arlyck's film became
something of a sensation, as it seemed to represent the total
collapse of flower power and rise of something far more sinister
the Charles Manson murders, for example. Legend
has it that Francois Truffaut was so moved by Sean that
it became part of a double-bill with The Wild Child, in France.
In Following Sean, Arlyck attempts to retrace 35 years
worth of footprints and discover what Sean's up to these days,
if anything. Turns out, Sean grew up to lead a more or less
normal existence, and is an electrician. How he and Arlyck got
to this point in their lives, however, is a tale worth telling.
--
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
|
Tempest
The predominantly comic works of writer-director-actor Paul
Mazursky -- a writer who once had his finger securely on
the pulse of the America dream -- effectively mined and occasionally
skewered the experiences of immigrants, middle-class trendies,
tenuously married couples and the pampered residents of Beverly
Hills. As Hollywood became more interested in teenagers than
adults, Mazursky was among those whose insights no longer were
sought by studio brass. At the same time, his tendency to cast
high-profile actors and surround them in the trappings of wealth
or ambition became way too expensive for someone with an indie
sensibility. Instead, he primarily focused on acting. Tempest
contemporized Shakespeare's classic comedy/romance by populating
a remote Greek island with John Cassavetes, Gena Rowlands,
Susan Sarandon, Molly Ringwald, Raul Julia and Vittorio
Gassman. At 140 minutes, Tempest proved too testing of most
audiences' attention spans, as did his interpretation's loosey-goosey
structure. Length is hardly a negative for lovers of Shakespeare,
though, and Mazursky fans will enjoy re-acquainting themselves
with a film late to the DVD boom. The opportunity to watch Cassavetes
and Rowlands work together again is another huge plus. --
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
Michael
Shayne: Private Detective: Collection 1
In an extension of Fox's valuable Charlie Chan and Mr.
Moto collections, the studio has released four titles in its
Michael Shayne series, which starred Lloyd Nolan and
ran from 1940-42. Based on Brett Halliday's pulp mysteries,
the Shayne titles were churned out as B-movies
the cinematic
equivalent of Hamburger Helper, at a time when double-features
were fixtures on the exhibition scene. More often than not, however,
movies that today are categorized as noir were less rooted in
a definable genre, than in a studio policy that dictated spending
less on lighting and patient cinematography. This didn't make
these films any less entertaining than A features, just cheaper
and more likely to be promoted. The situations are of the variety
than can -- and have -- been recycled for most of the last 100
years. Even so, Nolan does a nice job as the no-nonsense Irish-American
P.I. The cast of Blue, White and Perfect includes a young
George Reeves. The set arrives with several informative featurettes
and comparisons from the restoration process. --
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
Funny
Money
The well-animated opening credits to Funny Money suggest
a caper film on the order of a '60s or '70s Pink Panther installment.
The names of the actors -- Chevy Chase, Penelope Ann Miller,
Armand Assante and Robert Loggia, among them -- are
familiar, as well. Who knows, it might even be funny. Adapted
from Ray Cooney's hit London play, Chase plays an accountant
for a company that manufactures wax fruit. On his way home on
the subway, he mistakes a mobster's briefcase for his own. One
contains a huge bundle of money, while the other a tuna sandwich
and faux banana. From the point at which Henry Perkins discovers
he's in possession of a misplaced treasure, Funny Money
evolves into one long farce, complete with slamming doors, annoying
doorbells, relatives who can't keep a secret, close shaves with
police and hoodlums, mistaken identities and spit takes. Although
Leslie Greif may never be mistaken with Blake Edwards,
Funny Money does hone to master's playbook. Moreover, the
actors have no trouble keeping up with the pace needed to propel
such an improbable set of circumstances. Fans of very broad farce
-- especially of the theatrical variety -- will find something
to like here. A featurette explains how the Hoboken-set picture
came to be made in Romania, Costa Rica and New York. --
Gary Dretzka |
|
|
Paper
Dolls
I'm not sure if Paris Is Burning (1990) was the first documentary
to treat the transvestite community with something other than
shock and dismay, but its success gave a green light to dozens
of filmmakers who've found increasingly diverse ways to address
the subject. Tomer Heymann's alternately enlightening and
heart-breaking, Paper Dolls, tells the story of group of
transvestites who emigrated from the Philippines to take care
of elderly Jews in Tel Aviv. On their day off, they performed
a karaoke drag act as the Paper Dolls. At first they were
welcomed to Israel, as replacements for the tens of thousands
of Palestinian workers being punished for the continuing Intifada.
As performers, the Paper Dolls are no great shakes. As
care givers, however, they're wonderfully supportive and truly
concerned about their patients, most of whom couldn't care less
about where they're from and what kind of underwear they prefer.
Like immigrant workers everywhere, the Paper Dolls are paid to
do the jobs no one else will do
at the going rate, at least.
Besides substandard wages, they're rewarded by the public with
suspicion, prejudice and threats of being deported when their
patient dies or the work permit they paid for is found to be hinky.
Unlike most other documentarians, Heymann empathized with his
subjects to the point where he agreed to be made up as a woman
and help them find gigs on a local TV program. Beyond all the
footage shot while the Dolls were at work or performing, the camera
also captures the fear of terrorism that pervades the community
and is manifested as prejudice against imported labor. No matter
how one feels about women who feel trapped in a man's bodies,
it's difficult not to come away from the film with respect and
sympathy for these Dolls. -
Gary Dretzka |
|
|
La
Belle Captive
Muriel
American audiences have demonstrated little patience with movies
that openly flaunt their intellectualism. It explains why so few
French movies have made a dent in American box-office tallies.
One of the reasons Francois Truffaut, for example, was
able to enjoy crossover success in the U.S. was because his work
-- and that of others prominent in the New Wave -- was so heavily
influenced by Alfred Hitchcock, Nicolas Ray and Howard
Hawks. Occasionally, too, there will arrive an offbeat hybrid
on the order of Amelie or Diva. Alain Robbe-Grillet's
sexy thriller, La Belle Captive, will remind adventurous
viewers here more of Diva, in that it builds a kidnapping mystery
around the surrealistic imagery of Magritte. It also might remind
them of Eyes Wide Shut and The Hunger. The plot
is almost as elusive as the paintings on display in the film's
dream sequences, but it involves discovering the whereabouts of
a woman who disappears on the eve of her wedding, only to turn
up at a nightclub, where she dances with a handsome courier. Hours
later, the man finds her bound body sprawled on a lonely rural
road. He seeks medical help at a majestic villa, where a group
of caped pervs are gathered some kind of a bizarre sexual ritual.
The next morning, he awakens to find an empty, a deserted mansion
and a wound on his neck. The courier's subsequent search leads
him into even more bizarre territory. Fans of Diva and
David Lynch, no doubt, would a get a bigger kick out of
Le Belle Captive than anyone else.
Muriel, or the Time of Return was directed by
Alain Resnais, for whom Robbe-Grillet wrote the Oscar-nominated
screenplay to Last Year at Marienbad. Released in 1963,
it stars Delphine Seyrig as a widowed antique dealer, Helene,
with a bad gambling habit and a son who returned from the war
in Algeria with twisted memories of a tortured young woman. When
an old lover arrives for a visit, with his attractive niece, Helene
and her son are forced to relive events that remain unresolved,
even after a quarter-century of war, peace, marriages and the
mundane chores of everyday life. The scholarly discussion that's
included in the bonus features is essential for viewers new to
Resnais' work. -
Gary Dretzka |
|
|
The
300 Spartans
Geez, a $70-million weekend haul for 300? Oliver Stone
must be wondering what he did wrong with Alexander, in
which the Greeks actually kicked Persian butt. Those who may enjoy
a more old-fashioned Hollywood take on Hellenic history could
do a lot worse than renting The 300 Spartans. Made in 1961,
when sword-and-sandal epics were a Hollywood staple, the use of
special visual effects was reserved for cheeseball sci-fi and
horror flicks. The veteran director and cinematographer Rudolph
Mate could no more have envisioned a re-creation of the Battle
of Thermopylae on the scale of Zack Snyder's CGI-enhanced
300, than Orville and Wilbur Wright could predict
how their invention would empower men to one day walk on the Moon.
The combat scenes in The 300 Spartans will seem almost laughably
primitive to anyone born after George Lucas reinvented the Hollywood
wheel, with Star Wars. But, then, 300 someday will
feel out-fashioned to viewers accustomed to 3-D spears being hurled
into the audience, and acoustic effects that replicate the sound
of arrows zipping past their ears. Here, the gallant King Leonidas
of Sparta is played by the then-popular leading man, Richard
Egan (Victor Mature must not have been available).
It is his duty to lead 300 free Spartan soldiers, and 700 Greek
volunteers, against the vast horde of slave-warriors led by Persia's
King Xerxes. (Made at the height of the Cold War, any comparisons
between the Persians and the Red Army were encouraged.) The expository
scenes, in which Greek politicians quibble over the minutiae of
war preparations, are as half-baked as one would expect from films
of the period. The battlefield action remains quite good, however.
Fans of 300, who still haven't gotten their fill of Spartan lore,
will also enjoy such PBS documentaries as Empires: The Greeks:
Crucible of Civilization and The Spartans.-
Gary Dretzka |
|
|
Fires
on the Plain: Criterion Collection
Burmese Harp: Criterion Collection
Following hot on the heels of Clint Eastwood's Iwo Jima
duet, and the DVD release of the Japanese documentary The Emperor's
Naked Army Marches On (Facets Video), come Criterion Collection
kindred editions of Kon Ichikawa's Fires on the Plain and Burmese
Harp. Both describe the conditions faced by Japanese soldiers
at the very end of World War II, with defeat inevitable but surrender
impossible. It would be a mistake to say that these post-war films
make Letters From Iwo Jima -- or Saving Private Ryan,
for that matter -- look like a cakewalk. They do, however, document
the unbelievably grim final days of the war in the Pacific Theater
in a way, historian Donald Ritchie argues, would be unthinkable
in the west, or, today, even in Japan. Adapted from well-known
anti-war novel, Fires on the Plain took audiences along
on a soldier's personal death march in the Philippines. The soldier,
who had tuberculosis, was released from a hospital to re-join
his platoon, but, devoid of food and water, the squad's leader
demanded he either return to the hospital or commit suicide. The
actors took their jobs seriously enough to go without food for
weeks during production, and it showed. When confronted with incidents
of cannibalism, the characters look perfectly capable of gnawing
human flesh. That was the deep, dark secret being explored by
a rabid anti-war activist in The Emperor's Naked Army Marches
On. Here, it almost seems a logical alternative to starvation.
In Burmese Harp, a lute-playing soldier fails in his attempt to
get a company of Japanese soldiers to surrender, even though the
war is near completion. He gets caught up in the subsequent assault
by British troops, and is assumed to have been killed, as well.
Instead, he assumes the guise of a Buddhist monk. The experience
of walking through the blood-soaked and body-littered jungle,
however, forces him to reassess his very being. The starkness
of the imagery, and simplicity of the anti-war message, combine
to make both films profoundly moving experiences. The featurettes
that accompany the films describe how amazing it was that these
decidedly non-rhetorical and non-patriotic films managed to be
made in 1959 and 1967, and the impact they had on a world about
to witness yet another violent debacle in Southeast Asia. -
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
The
Holiday
Only in a Hollywood movie would a guy cheat so clumsily on girlfriends
as seemingly perfect as those played by Kate Winslet and
Cameron Diaz in The Holiday. They have their quirks,
all right, but nothing you couldn't ignore after a cocktail or
two. Yet, these things happen. As the writer and/or director of
such high-budget romantic comedies as Something's Gotta Give,
What Women Want, Father of the Bride and Baby Boom, Nancy
Meyers repeatedly has demonstrated an ability to take mawkish
concepts and elevate them to entertainment suitable for Saturday-night
dates, at least. This is no small accomplishment, considering
how many movies starring Kate Hudson, Matthew McConaughey,
Dermot Mulroney, Renee Zwellweger and Jennifer Lopez (etc.,
etc., etc.) fail even as chick flicks. That said, however, The
Holiday -- in which a pair of unlucky-in-love professional
women trade houses over Christmas break -- is slight even by the
standards usually associated with such fantasies. What saves it
are enthusiastic performances by Diaz, Winslet, Jack Black,
Jude Law and Eli Wallach, as the Hollywood Brahmin
who opens his heart to Winslet's English rose (while Diaz' movie-trailer
editor is house-sitting her Surrey cottage). Otherwise, it pretty
much served its purpose as a Christmas valentine. The DVD extras
are limited to commentary and a making-of featurette. -
Gary Dretzka
|
|
|
Hubert
Selby Jr: It/ll Be Better Tomorrow
If all one knew about Hubert Selby Jr. (a.k.a., Cubby)
was what could be gleaned from his novels, short stories and adaptations
of The Last Exit to Brooklyn and Requiem for a Dream,
there would be no way to recognize the man profiled in It/ll
Be Better Tomorrow. You would have imagined him to be a freewheeling
Beat angel, like Dean Moriarty in On the Road, or such
literary brawlers as Charles Bukowski or Nelson Algren.
Instead, Selby was a gentle, frail-looking man, whose battles
with drugs, booze and TB left him bent but not beaten. In Michael
Dean's heartfelt documentary, the writer's legacyis honored such
artists as Lou Reed, Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto, Darren Aronofsky,
Uli Edel, Henry Rollins, Jerry Stahl, Richard Price and Nick
Tosches. They recall him as a largely unsung giant of 20th
Century letters, an inspirational teacher, close friend and exceedingly
unique character. It also describes just how difficult it was,
at times to be Hubert Selby Jr., given the legal attacks
on his work, squandering of money to feed his habits and famously
precarious health. Even knowing that Selby died during the production
of It/ll Be Better Tomorrow, the warmth and gratitude exuded
in the interviews keeps the film upbeat from start to finish.
The extras come in the form of more extensive taped interviews
with the writer. -
Gary Dretzka |
| |
|
|
|