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March 31, 2008
Jules Dassin was 96
The closing of Naked City.
Dassin's first short, The Tell-Tale Heart, in two parts.
Part II.
A scene from Dream of Passion.
The Opening of 10:30pm Summer.
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March 29, 2008
Young@Heart: "I wanna be sedated"
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March 28, 2008
The real 21: the cuts to My Blueberry Nights
Finally got around to comparing the runtime of the version of Wong Kar-wai's My Blueberry Nights that screened at Cannes and Thessaloniki (where I saw it at a public screening after a pitched shout-and-push-fest between a theater manager and the dozens of Greek students lining the stairs) and the version being released next week in New York and LA. First cut: 111 minutes. US release version: 90 minutes. That will make for a brain-scrambling Monday morning screening...
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March 27, 2008
When Andy Warhol met Tom Bosley...
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March 26, 2008
Richard Widmark was 93
Widmark sez hello in Kiss of Death.
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Sony's Screen Gems picks a Culpepper until 2012
While the crunching of New Line Cinema into a smaller company, a genre arm of Warners, has yet to produce public results, Sony seems satisfied with the low-profile head of their Screen Gems, extending their contract with topper Clint Culpepper for four more years. Sayeth the PR: "Culpepper has extended his contract with Sony Pictures Entertainment and will continue to oversee the studio’s highly prosperous Screen Gems label through 2012, it was announced today by Michael Lynton, Chairman and Chief Executive Officer for Sony Pictures Entertainment, and Amy Pascal, Co-Chairman of the studio. Under Culpepper’s leadership as President of the division, Screen Gems has emerged as one of the most consistent and successful studio-operated specialty film labels in the industry. Culpepper has run the division since 1998 delivering a diverse slate of motion pictures that includes films for horror fans, African American and urban audiences, thrillers, comedies and action movies. Since Screen Gems' inception as a film label, Culpepper and his team have achieved solid returns with moderately budgeted hits such as Stomp the Yard, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Vacancy, Mothman Prophecies, Arlington Road, When a Stranger Calls, and You Got Served, among others. The label has also successfully launched two thriving franchises with the Resident Evil and Underworld series of films. [More below.]
“From Day One, Clint’s vision for Screen Gems was to offer opportunities to emerging filmmakers and creative voices with very distinctive stories to tell,” said Pascal. “There are very few executives in our industry who truly understand the genre and niche market as thoroughly. Clint’s grasp of this business and how these movies play in communities large and small has been vital to our continued success. He is masterful at developing great concepts and compelling stories. No one does it better than Clint and his entire team at Screen Gems.”
“Screen Gems has flourished and grown under Clint’s leadership and we couldn’t ask for a better executive to run this label,” said Lynton. “Over the years, Screen Gems has been consistently successful and they are an important part of the studio’s multi-label strategy which seeks to offer a diverse range of filmed entertainment programming to audiences all around the world. We are all proud of what Screen Gems has achieved and I am thrilled that Clint will continue to lead this label for many years to come.”
Upcoming Screen Gems films include the teen thriller Prom Night, directed by Nelson McCormick, Overbrook Entertainment's Lakeview Terrace, a dramatic thriller directed by Neil LaBute and starring Samuel L. Jackson, Patrick Wilson and Kerry Washington. The label recently wrapped production on a third installment of the Underworld franchise, titled Underworld: Rise of the Lycans, and production also recently concluded on the action movie Armored, starring Matt Dillon, Jean Reno and Laurence Fishburn. Screen Gems is about to wrap production on the teen comedy Fired up, and the first installment of a planned trilogy re-imagining the suspense thriller The Stepfather, starring Dylan Walsh and Sela Ward.
Screen Gems will soon initiate principal photography on Legion, a science fiction action thriller starring Paul Bettany, the teen comedy Mardi Gras, a suspense thriller titled Obsessed starring Beyonce and Ali Larter, and Phenom, a sports drama directed by David Anspaugh and starring Chris Brown
The name Screen Gems has a long and valued history with the studio. It was first incorporated in 1948 to serve as the television subsidiary of Columbia Pictures. While the company initially produced commercials, it quickly established itself as an innovator in creating, packaging and syndicating television shows and specials. Later Screen Gems branched out into broadcasting, recording, music publishing, audience testing and large scale merchandising, and eventually in 1974, Screen Gems became Columbia Pictures Television.
The dormant label was rekindled by Culpepper in 1998 and has since provided Sony an outlet to extend and expand its motion picture distribution business beyond the traditional slate considered by SPE. Screen Gems has provided a haven for films that fall between those currently released by the studio’s highly valued Sony Pictures Classics label, and the wide release movies that are more traditionally developed and released by Columbia Pictures.
About Sony Pictures Entertainment
Sony Pictures Entertainment (SPE) is a subsidiary of Sony Corporation of America (SCA), a subsidiary of Tokyo-based Sony Corporation. SPE's global operations encompass motion picture production and distribution; television production and distribution; digital content creation and distribution; worldwide channel investments; home entertainment acquisition and distribution, operation of studio facilities; development of new entertainment products, services and technologies; and distribution of filmed entertainment in more than 100 countries. Sony Pictures Entertainment can be found on the World Wide Web at http://www.sonypictures.com.
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March 25, 2008
Indie is on deadline...
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March 24, 2008
Paranoid Park (2007, ****)
LIKE ELEPHANT, GUS VAN SANT'S MASTERFUL PARANOID PARK phases in and out of linear time, capturing flux and flow and the blank fear of life not yet understood in a clear-eyed boy's hardly-expressive face. An accidental death is recalled. Narrative is attempted. It's as mixed, mixed-up, miscellaneous as the boy's (Gabe Nevens, pictured) attention. Paranoid Park's a great DIY place to skateboard, and one Saturday… but right now… but not then… Shot by Christopher Doyle and Kathy Rain Li and sound-designed by Leslie Shatz, with Super-8 skate footage that includes a bravura long take of multiple skaters rising into the air, into the frame, out of existence, Paranoid Park emerges from Van Sant's loving immersion in the formal character of movies by the Hungarian Bela Tarr, taking his respect for the sustained, lengthy duration of shots and creating a minimalist idiom that is simply stunning. There is shallow and homophobic writing about this and other movies by the Portland-based director: why is a gay man in his fifties making languorous movies that involve lost, lissome male youth? Hasn't he done that before? Aren't "lost boys" the most tired of topics? That is not serious criticism. It's closer to mere bullshit. Paranoid Park serves as a metaphor for all that is accidental and hurtful and inexplicable that we live past, but it is also a rich, singular dream. The statement "No one's ever ready for Paranoid Park," said by a pal of the boy, applies to foolish, elderly even if young, critics as well. Life; death, a walk through a park, a lonely park bench, wary faces: beauty. Pure, cinematic beauty. The score ranges from Elliott Smith to Nino Rota to Ethan Rose, with a frighteningly effective use of Billy Swan's "I Can Help," accompanied by a hardly-inflected descent into the hell of what is unspoken in one teen's mind. [Ray Pride.]
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Snow Angels (2007, ***)
DAVID GORDON GREEN’S FOURTH FEATURE, THE CASUALLY PLAYED YET DEEPLY SERIOUS, SOULFUL SNOW ANGELS, continues along his own lovely path, reaching into particulars of working-class life with wit and empathy. Life is a river, and sometimes it freezes over: Green, working with generous breadth in adapting Stewart O’Nan’s 2003 novel, warms the heart. The cast is large, Altman-sized. Green moves between them fluidly. There are at least ten primary characters, and their interactions are marshaled with novelistic care. It’s a tapestry of overwhelming complication, adroitly described, demonstrating well the abiding truth that you must forgive trespasses in tiny towns. Failing to do so is at your own risk. (Made in 2006, Snow Angels debuted at Sundance in 2007 just before Green shot this summer's Apatow-factory stoner comedy Pineapple Express.)
Set in an unnamed Pennsylvania town (but shot in Nova Scotia), the movie conveys the chill of disillusionment, yet in the foreground or in the corner of many of the widescreen shots, tendrils reach. Trees, rooted, that will revive come spring. Annie (Kate Beckinsale) is the mother of Tara, a small girl. Working at the China Town restaurant, she tries to avoid sad, lost, self-pitying, grief-struck estranged husband Glenn (Sam Rockwell), while meeting up with Nate (Nicky Katt), husband of China Town co-worker Barb (Amy Sedaris). Another co-worker is teenaged Arthur (Michael Angarano), who is in a want-a-first-kiss flirtation with Lila, a proto-glamour-geek behind cats-eye glasses, under rats-nest tangle of dark hair (Olivia Thirlby, Juno). Theirs is a sweetly hopeful young romance despite the quietly catastrophic onset of middle-aged disillusionment in Arthur’s parents (still floppy-haired Griffin Dunne, weary yet luminous Jeanneta Arnette). Their youthful romance counterpoints the disillusioned grownups; the pair could become any of the failed, failing partners who surround them. The acting is very, very good, with the performers matching the capacity of Green’s fully furnished world to surprise from shot-to-shot. Establishing shots are used as socioeconomic shorthand, and meticulously gathered props and interior design hold talismanic weight.
Darkness falls. The temperature falls below ache. Disappointment shatters. The world falls apart terribly in this small, unspecified town and the landscape swallows many sorrows. And yet. Things change but life does not stop: young love, old love, they are as true as the hurts notched across years of acquaintance or relationship.
As always, Green and his customary cinematographer Tim Orr observe landscape, working as the first-est second unit of them all. (How do they find the time to shoot all this concrete yet lyrical coverage and get the central elements of the movie down as well?) Shots matter in movies like George Washington, All the Real Girls, Undertow and Snow Angels: An overweight grandmother with faded tattoos on her forearm. Kate Beckinsale’s bare calf, cocked, across a motel room bedspread. Snowflakes on red wool. A lovemaking scene that builds from the elegant example of Don’t Look Now (plus a bonus punch line that goes giddy-goofball over cunnilingus). A boy in class is pictured sketching an enormous power-transmission line, and Green cuts to the real line, which dominates a hillside and horizon without a lick of majesty. Among many other glorious instants, I would single out one of Lila, outdoors, watching Arthur leave the school grounds, taking a photograph of this boy to whom she is all the time more drawn; it’s from a bit of distance, and unsteady, framed just a little high on her as she looks over her glasses through the glass viewfinder of her twin-lensed medium-format camera, contrasting geometry both above and below her of the outdoor stadium, and her bulky-at-the-base winter coat planting her there like a tree. The next couple of shots? Landscapes in the style of the photographs she’s taken: for a second, her eyes, her perception, takes over the film’s omniscient vision. Green is good at this, at throwaway beauty. "Let me take your breath, okay? Now let’s move along."
Dialogue matters to this still-young writer-director, too, as anyone who likes his films would tell you. Some reviewers cringe, for no good reason. This is far from Diablo Cody territory, in the best possible way. A girl browsing a slang dictionary as a tease: "Fellatrix. I like that"; "If Tom Cruise were a little girlie, girlie, he’d look like you"; "Can you say that in Spanish?"; "I’m nice, aren’t I?... Do you have any idea of how adorably cute you are? … Right now?" And emotion, with motion, calibrated, yet deliquescent: a girl’s "Stupid things you say make me like you even more," caught in a handheld shot that moves uneasily back from a two-shot into an empty high-school corridor, leaving them framed at the center of their world. [Ray Pride.]
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March 23, 2008
Arthur C. Clarke's 90th birthday message (December, 2007)
[Via Vin Cerf.]
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March 22, 2008
Sometimes... I doubt
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March 21, 2008
The cricket's voice: John Anderson
At Washington Post, John Anderson goes a few online rounds with readers: "Atlanta, Ga.: As crtic, are you bothered when parties refuse to screen their films? Why? Why not?" "John Anderson: well, for one thing, it forces you to go out on a friday morning, see what you already expect to be a bad film and write the review in 15 minutes because the deadline has become more onerous than usual. Worse, you can't quite trust your own judgment, because 
there's a certain resentment factor in having your time controlled by people you wouldn't have in your living room. Additionally, the movies are, almost invariably, horrible, because if they were any good they would have been screened. Sometimes, though, the movies are perfectly decent and some marketing twerp has decided they're better off getting through a weeekend (or an opening day)without any review at all." [All spelling sic.]
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March 20, 2008
Klawans on Cronenberg's At the Suicide of the Last Jew in the World in the Last Cinema in the World
From Nextbook, Stuart Klawans' "Endgame" considers a 2007 David Cronenberg short: "[A]t the broadest base we define ourselves as a touchy people, a people constituted by our touchiness. Why, I can’t imagine; but listen now to the words of a Jew, who at most times would not bother to call himself one: My parents were secular. I was never bar mitzvahed. At a very early age, I decided I was an atheist, and I still am. I don’t feel the need to involve myself with the traditions of Judaism. In fact, I’m rather anti-religious. . . . I wasn’t hiding my Jewishness. It just never seemed to be an issue. But when I started to make this little short, suddenly, it was. It was provoked by what’s going on in the world right now. The pronouncements of various Islamic leaders about how nice it would be to kill all the Jews in the world—you know, like the Hezbollah leader. I thought, “Well, what if that would happen? How would that happen?” The lights go down; the movie starts..." Cronenberg's contribution to Chacun son cinéma:
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March 19, 2008
A selection of Anthony Minghella viewing
Minghella's acting debut in Atonement:
SPOILER WARNING: This is one of the final scenes in the movie and contains surprises if you don't know the novel or the film.
The trailer for the hard-to-find Truly, Madly, Deeply:
Minghella's adaptation of Beckett's Play, from the "Beckett on Film" project, in two parts. With Juliet Stevenson, Alan Rickman, Kristen-Scott Thomas.
And: Viva Neruda, addio Minghella. A great scene from T,M,D.
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March 18, 2008
Minghella on writing, or not
Robert J. Elisberg posts a 1999 interview with Anthony Minghella about writing: When you write, how do you generally work? Do you have any specific kind of music playing or prefer silence? I work fitfully, in hope rather than in expectation, invent methods which last a week, and fill notebooks with tiny, illegible writing which often defies my own attempts to decipher it. I find any excuse not to write, despair of writing, measure my achievements like a schoolboy and give myself undeserved rewards for completing a page, daren't leave my room when I'm working in case I finally have a fully-formed thought, and preside over the process convinced that in a drawer somewhere exists the finished piece of work, and that I'm permitted, to the delight of some cruel spirit, to have fleeting access to the drawers, sometimes for 30 seconds, sometimes for an hour, but then it slams shut and will never advertise its next opening. I know that the minute I leave the room to annoy my family, to catch the end of a football game, to lie down, the drawer springs open and waits until it hears me take the stairs... I always listen to music, my passion and vice is music, I will be denied access to heaven because of the number of CDs I own, and I have gluttony for all types and colours of music. I might listen to Hungarian folk songs, Portishead, Ella Fitzgerald and Van Morrison in the same work session. And I always listen to Bach. My work has been a shameless advertisement for Bach, from my plays, through my first film, Truly Madly Deeply, through The English Patient and most recently, in The Talented Mr Ripley, which has The St. Matthew Passion in the first scene. [More at the link.]
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Tribco film cricket doomsday...
The day news came that TribCo, which owns 11 daily newspapers, was shedding their two film reviewers, Gene Seymour and Jan Stuart, this was the only headline listed on one of the film pages in another TribCo sheet, The LA Times. No irony implied or inferred. Please have your desks clear when the nice man raps twice at your cubicle perimeter.
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Indie returns shortly...
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March 12, 2008
[S08] One Piece: Screenwriter Howard A. Rodman on film as dream and Force of Evil
Screenwriter Howard Rodman had two features at Sundance 2008: the debut of his first produced original script, the underappreciated riff on Abraham Polonsky's singular masterpiece, Force of Evil, and Tom Kalin's return, Savage Grace. We spoke about his career during the festival, as well as talking about how movies ought to aspire to the condition of dream, and in the second Piece, Rodman offers an appreciation of the carborundum marvels of Force of Evil. [A six-part oral-history video with Polonsky is here.]
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Harmony Korine, The Malingerers, the gold-scale fish and the imaginary dog: Hello, Harmony!
James Mottram over at the Scotsman has a few piquant words with Mr. Lonely himself, Harmony Korine. "Korine, who lives in Nashville, Tennessee, where he was raised, admits he "wanted to disappear" during this bleak time. He took off to Europe, living in Paris for a while. It was here that he hit upon the initial idea for Mister Lonely, which stars... Diego Luna as a Michael Jackson impersonator. He recalls seeing the character's real-life equivalent. "Nobody was paying any attention to the guy, there was no money in his hat… and it was just an interesting way to live your life," he concedes... "I thought Michael was a symbol of identity and wanting to be other than who you are," he says. Yet at the time, Korine was experiencing his own form of isolation. Living on a diet of sweets and McDonald's, he "flipped out in Europe" and decided to fly and meet his parents – his father, Sol, is a former documentary filmmaker – who were living in the jungles of Panama. It's at this point that Korine's story takes a turn for the bizarre. He claims he fell in with a small cult known as The Malingerers, 70-odd men who devoted their lives to finding a rare, sought-after fish with gold scales. "They said only two had been found in the last 75 years. If you found this fish, there are three spots on the side on the gills that if you press, it sounds like a piano." So adept is he at spinning yarns – he once claimed The Basketball Diaries author Jim Carroll attended his birth and cut his umbilical cord – I'm beginning to wonder if Korine the trickster is back. "I spent seven months with them and we never found the fish," he continues. "One day, I got in an argument with one of the leaders there. He started screaming at me and said I had no faith, that I didn't believe it really existed. I never saw a picture of it and I think that they were all living in some kind of fantasy. Anyway, I was getting ready to leave, and this woman, who was married to one of the cult members, walked out with a dog's leash, and I said, 'What are you doing?' And she said, 'I'm walking my dog.' There was no dog there. It was an invisible dog. I took that as a sign." [Believe it or not, more at the link.]
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March 08, 2008
[S08] One Piece: Mama's Man, Azazel Jacobs
A Sundance debut, Azazel Jacobs' emotionally naked Mama's Man—just acquired by ThinkFilm for distribution later this year—is the small-scale, small-budgeted story of a thirtysomething man who visits his New York parents in their artifact-stuffed rent-controlled Chambers Street loft and finds he can't return to his wife and child but instead curls up into all kinds of stalling tactics. (Talk about kammerspiel.) As a dry comedy about clinical depression, it's a wondrous monument, as well as a tribute to the home and lives of his mother and father, filmmaker Ken Jacobs and artist Flo Jacobs. Jacobs shot on 35mm, as he did with his giddy earlier feature, GoodTimesKid (scheduled for release on DVD by Benten Films). In this moment, Jacobs talks about why it's important for him to originate (or at least finish) his work on celluloid. [Below, the trailer for GoodTimesKid, a sweet short in its own right, and "Plexi Beat," a video by Jacobs and Sara Diaz.]
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[True/False 08] opening bumpers (****)
Zowie: incredibly impressive parkour-on-the-streets-of-Columbia Missouri videos: the Thursday, Friday and Saturday premiered festival-identity shorts, in sequence below.
Thursday.
Friday.
Saturday. (Punchline!)
Sunday.
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[True/False 08] never a mistake to open with a punk circus marching band through town
IT'S HALF-TROT, HALF-RUN UP PARADE-BLOCKED, PEOPLE-CHOKED BROADWAY in Columbia, Missouri in Leap Day's springy dusk a couple hours west of St. Louis or east of Kansas City along I-70, the grand march opening the fifth edition of the fantastically smart, town-transforming True/False documentary film festival, led for the second time by the event's semi-official punk circus marching band, Chicago's Mucca Pazza. (The festival's red and white logo is painted on the faces of the mother and daughterabove.) I tarried at an overlapping event, scooping up visiting journalists and bloggers and consultants and doc-makers from the altar of an open bar, urging them toward the rural drag to witness the hijinks of Chicago's very own, and now it's a gallop to get in front. Police cars with blue lights flashing block the cross-streets. The sidewalks stream thick people, a few figures bent to scrawl, drawing from the many buckets of fat sticks of multicolored chalk.
The band's stopped in front of a church with a tall white steeple that from most angles resembles Donald Duck and the sound grows louder as the crowd clusters. Later that night, a small club will throb with a Gypsy-inflected wall of sound. But now the more than dozen players in customary mismatched ragtag marching band uniforms tear into something unrecognizable but utterly rhythmic: sousaphone, trombone, trumpet, an electric guitar wailing from a loudspeaker on a helmet atop the red-white-and-blue jacketed player's head. A light breeze of clear cool air moves, but the assembling stands in place, swaying or jumping, a couple hundred celebrants. A hundred fifty yards ahead, a Stephens College overpass is draped with festival banners and photographers and cheering figures. Marching forward to the college's commons where fire twirlers await in a roped-off area, placards dance: turbaned swamis in memory of a locally-born mystic of the 1920s; Diane Arbus' eerily calm twin girls. Scattered around the mushy field, it's tough to keep count: no one's standing still long enough. Three drummers? Two trumpets? Saxophone, cymbals, trombones, sousaphone, bullhorns, the big thumping drum with the crude sketch of the band's iconic grinning Mad Cow on the side. The single cheerleader, barelegged, Docs-booted, shakes her pompoms in an ironic frug. A Ken-sized band member crests the shoulder of one of the band members. Scattered details like that put a grin on faces in every direction. A whistle shrills. The march resumes, crowd trickling back to the center of town. Atop a newly restored hotel, the neon letters "Tiger" are burning bright in the falling blue. Drums roll. Traffic resumes. The weekend begins with one last trumpet blast.
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Contempt (1963, ****)
Contempt remains a revelation, a shockingly accessible masterpiece amid Godard's intermittently difficult canon. Michel Piccoli plays Paul Javal, a playwright who needs money, and the producer Prokosch is embodied by Jack Palance, that heavy among heavies. He's waving a packet of cash in Paul's direction to doctor a script of "The Odyssey" being directed by Fritz Lang. "I like gods," Palance purrs, "I like them very much." While Contempt plays out over a long Italian weekend, climaxing at Malaparte, an architectural marvel of a villa at Capri, it is also a romantic epic, the abiding, naked pain of its characters washing away all the intellectualizing. Paul's beautiful young wife is Camille, played with momentous petulance by Brigitte Bardot. Paul asks whether he should write the script. Camille tells him it's fine. Later she feels he hasn't shown enough concern when Prokosch has been forward with her. No matter what Paul does, it will not be enough. Camille seizes on excuses, any excuses, to dismiss Paul's adoration. She remembers the love she once thought they had: "Everything used to happen instinctively, in complicitous ecstasy." In his screenplay, Godard wrote, "In contrast to Paul, who always acts on the strength of a complicated series of rationalizations, Camille acts nonpsychologically.... Though one might wonder about her, as Paul does, she never wonders about herself. "She lives full and simple sentiments, and cannot imagine analyzing them. At the end, the camera looks out onto the ocean, the horizon. Limitless possibility or infinite distance? The space between you and I, the space between a man, a woman. The sparkling azure of the sea is the crashing gulf between them. It is unfathomably huge. (Contempt opens Friday at Film Forum in Manhattan.) [Ray Pride.]
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March 06, 2008
Notes from True/False Film Festival.. coming soon
Posted by Ray Pride at 01:10 PM | Comments (0)
March 05, 2008
Jennifer Grey and Patrick Swayze are Dirty Dancing
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March 01, 2008
Jacques Rivette is 80 today
From the interview on the DVD of The Story Of Marian and Julian.
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Teasing Nights And Weekends, by Joe Swanberg and Greta Gerwig
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Jonathan Rosenbaum on retirement and politics
A 20-minute video interview with Jonathan Rosenbaum by Kalvin Henely from CINE-FILE Chicago. Rosenbaum retired from regular reviewing chores on February 27, his 65th birthday.
Posted by Ray Pride at 12:20 PM | Comments (0)