December 19: Adoration & Ararat

No Atom Egoyan doesn't only make films that start with the letter "A", it just happens that I recently re-viewed both of these movies so that I could review them.  I had seen both in theaters, Ararat back in 2002 when it made my Ten Best list for that year, and Adoration last spring when it played for, like, a minute in theaters. I had intended to review the latter at the time, but things got in the way.

When I was watching season two of  "The Tudors" on DVD (courtesy of Netflix), the actor portraying the musician Mark Smeaton looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. After consulting the Internet Movie Database, I discovered that it was David Alpay, who had made his feature acting debut in Ararat. So I had a desire to revisit that movie.

Ararat is a complicated and complex film that deals with several themes, but is particularly focused on the atrocities inflicted on the Armenian people in Turkey between 1915 and 1918. To this day, the Turkish government denies that a deliberate, systematic destruction of the Armenian people occurred, despite evidence to the contrary. Relatives of Egoyan's grandparents perished, so this story is clearly one that is close to him.

There are at least three main plot strands that eventually weave together to create the tapestry that is this challenging film. In one, director Edward Saroyan (Charles Aznevour) and his screenwriter Rouben (Eric Bogosian) are crafting a film about events that occurred during the Siege of Van in 1915. In their research, they discover that the painter Arshile Gorky (ne Vostanik Manoog Adoyan) was a boy who may or may not have taken part in the events, so they hire as a consultant an art historian Ani (Arsinee Khanjian) who is an expert on Gorky and his work.

Ani has a checkered history: her first husband died while attempting to assassinate a Turkish government official and her second husband committed suicide. Her son Raffi (David Alpay) from her first marriage and her stepdaughter Celia (Marie-Josee Croze) are engaging in a sexual relationship, despite Celia's fervent belief that Ani drove her father to his death.

The final thread involves a Canadian custom official (Christopher Plummer) about to retire who has difficulties relating to his own child (Brent Carver), a formerly married man now living with another man (Elias Koteas).

The characters cross in odd ways, which I realize some may feel are convoluted, but which I accepted. Plummer's custom official is first seen stopping Aznavour's director from entering the country because the filmmaker is carrying a pomegranate. Later, on his last day of work, he questions Raffi about the contents of canisters of film -- which may or may not contain drugs.

The movie shifts between these various worlds raising pertinent issues about the discrepancies between how historical events unfold and how people can put specific spins on them. Plot points unfold in counterpoint: Celia's desire to pin the blame for her father's death on Ani runs parallel to the Turks not accepting the blame for the genocide of the Armenians. In the film-within-the-film (also titled Ararat) the issue of Gorky's participation in the events at Van is open to interpretation. All that is really known is that he lived in that town during the time and that he was 10 years of age. Did he participate in the events as the filmmakers suggest? Or are they merely taking artistic license? Can these questions be answered? Not definitively.

Although there are some flaws in the film -- and there are certainly a few sequences that feel a bit didactic, overall, I was impressed with the movie. It was challenging, informative and for the most part extremely well acted. Everyone from Plummer to Alpay to Elias Koteas as an actor portraying one of the Turkish generals who perhaps identifies a bit too closely with the character he is portraying to Croze to Khanjian all do fine work. I was moved by the film and its themes and still feel it ranks as one of the director's best movies.

Rating:  A-


To some extent, Egoyan continued to explore some of these themes in Adoration, but with a little less success. Inspired by the true story of a terrorist who planted a bomb in the luggage of his unwitting, pregnant girlfriend, Egoyan spins the tale of  Simon (Devon Bostick) who identifies too closely with the true story which his French teacher (Arsinee Khanjian) reads to her class. Simon, influenced by his bigoted grandfather (Kenneth Welch) and equally prejudiced uncle Tom (Scott Speedman), concocts a tale wherein his father Sami (Noam Jenkins) becomes that terrorist and his mother Rachel (Rachel Blanchard) becomes the woman. Of course, that means that Simon was the unborn child. Years later, after arguing with Rachel's family, Sami deliberately crashes the car in which he and his wife are riding, leaving Simon an orphan to be raised by his uncle.

Some of his classmates come to believe the story and encouraged by Simon, word spreads, including in Internet chat rooms where people who were on the plane make their feelings known. Simon, abetted by his teacher -- who has an agenda of her own -- challenges his uncle's beliefs.

Once again, Egoyan explores how cultural identies are shaped and how lies and falsehoods can be presented in a manner in which they are taken for truth. Where Ararat explored the issue of communication within a familial structure by examining several groups, in Adoration, the filmmaker has trained his eye on a single unit. He shows how prejudices and misinformation can get passed down from one generation to the next like heirlooms.

I was struck in reading various reviews by other critics at how many failed to see the connections between these movies. Most did not like Ararat and called it confusing and overly-ambitious whereas they lauded Adoration. I had an opposite reaction. I felt Adoration was too small, too confined and a bit confusing. The big reveal about Khanjian's character felt false to me and undercut the film's power. Still, even second-rate Egoyan is better than a lot of other films.

Rating:   B-

December 18: Last Call (2002)

So today was the company holiday party and we had a relatively good time. Afterwards I went out shopping for last minute gifts and before I knew it, the day was practically gone. It's 10:45 pm, so this is going to be a short entry.

I've been a fan of F. Scott Fitzgerald's writing since I got turned on to his work when I was in high school. I had a wicked crush on a slightly older woman -- she was in college! -- and we did a play together that happened to be set in the 1920s. The director had suggested we read Fitzgerald short stories and so ... I was hooked. I've read a number of biographies, all his novels, most of the short stories, and a lot of related materials. And I've tried to watch whatever biographical films that were made, however terrible.

Which brings me to Last Call, a movies that premiered on Showtime in 2002. I just got around to watching it on disc and I have to say that it was rather disappointing. It's based on a true story set in the writer's waning days when he was trying to write The Last Tycoon.

Although purportedly about Fitzgerald (played by Jeremy Irons -- who seemed to me to be coasting through the job), the movie really is the story of Frances Kroll (Neve Campbell), a naive young woman who worked as the writer's secretary. Kroll, of course, later wrote a book and that served as the basis of this drama, written and directed by Henry Bromell. I haven't seen Bromell's debut feature Panic (2000) but I've read fairly good things about it. Bromell went on to work on several TV series, including Showtime's Brotherhood, which I'll get to in another post (after I've finished watching the 3rd season).

Last Call terribly disappointed me. It's a minor film about a fairly important writer and it fails to make him come alive. Sissy Spacek shows up as his wife Zelda, a ghostly figment of the fevered imagination of a dissolute writer. For some reason, Spacek earned an Emmy nomination for this performance which is not one of her best. (She lost the award to Stockard Channing playing Judy Shepard in The Matthew Shepard Story.)

The story is filled with cliches: of course Frances is enamored of Scott. Of course, he makes coarse remarks about her writing. Of course, they come to a detente. It's fairly predictable and somewhat boring. Irons and Campbell do not seem to connect at all, as if they are acting in separate films. Campbell tries hard to create a full-bodied character and she has a few affecting scenes, particularly with Paul Hecht as her father.

There's really yet to be a decent biography of Fitzgerald but his work defies filming (despite several attempts). He may be one of those writers whose novels and life is best left to books.

Rating:   D+

December 17: Star Trek (2009)

I recently got a Blu-Ray player to go with the new big screen TV. (I figured if I'm spending so much time watching movies at home, I'd better have the proper equipment.) So, I upgraded my Netflix and got one of my first Blu-Ray discs - the 2009 remake reboot of Star Trek. Now, I know that a lot of TV geeks worship at Abrams' shrine, particularly for his contributions to Alias, Lost and Fringe. On the big screen, some of his efforts have been less than stellar:  Armageddon, anyone?  Mission Impossible III?  So his selection to oversee the "new" Star Trek didn't necessarily mean it would be a slam dunk. Even though that's pretty much how it turned out. I remember the original short-lived series; when it premiered science fiction wasn't really all that popular in primetime television but several of the episodes have stayed with me and one in particular that featured the gods and goddess of Greek lore led me to seek out and read Edith Hamilton's classic Mythology. Watching those episodes now -- with a more adult perspective -- I can see the cheesy special effects, the cheap sets and the terrible acting, but to a kid, it was revelatory. I wasn't all that pleased with the various spin-offs and the first round of movies. The rule was that only the even numbered ones would be pretty good but you had to try to sit through the others to know what was happening.

The idea that the franchise needed to be remade or rebooted or whatever creative term they are using nowadays was cause for concern. A lot of 60s television series that served as the basis for movies turned out badly (The Mod Squad, The Beverly Hillbillies, I Spy). We had the films that were made. Why couldn't we just enjoy those for what they are? Could they improve on the material?

Abrams and the screenwriters Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman took Gene Roddenberry's basic concept and added his own special twist. While the characters on screen in this version were younger than the originals, they also exhibited slightly different traits. Parents who were alive in the series didn't survive in this version. Romantic relationships were skewed a bit. It soon becomes clear -- and indeed is a major plot point -- that events occurred that changed the universe in which the characters existed: they were in an alternate world, a parallel reality. If you went with the plotting, it all began to seem, well, "logical".

The plot is somewhat convoluted but revolves around a group of Romulans who survived the destruction of their planet and are led by Nero (Eric Bana, who isn't nearly as menacing as he should be). Perhaps in a nod to another of Bana's movies this year, Nero has time-traveled and is out to seek revenge against the man he feels responsible for his planet's being wiped away. (Hint: It's one of the members of the crew of the USS Enterprise.)

As the film opens, Nero is wreaking havoc on Federation vessels and the USS Kelvin is caught in this battle. One of the passengers is a woman (Jennifer Morrison) who goes into labor with the ship is under fire. It happens that her husband George (Chris Hemsworth) had just been promoted to acting captain and he must make a life or death decision that will have impact on their lives. He sends his wife and newborn son, James Tiberius Kirk, to safety while he stands his ground and, like a good captain, goes down with the ship. That's just the prologue.

Little Jim grows into a young man (Chris Pine) who likes his women (including Zoe Saldana's Uhura) and his booze and who isn't afraid of a brawl. It turns out he's also very smart and catches the attention of a Starfleet commander named Pike (the efficient Bruce Greenwood) -- the name is meant to pay hommage to Jeffrey Hunter who portrayed Captain Pike in the TV show's original pilot. Pike makes an offer to Kirk who accepts and trains at the Starfleet Academy. Gradually, we meet the various actors who will fill out the characters that fans have come to know. Karl Urban is superb as Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy, John Cho is fine as Sulu, Anton Yelchin does a nice turn as Chekhov, and Simon Pegg finds the right balance of comedy and seriousness as Montgomery Scott. Zachary Quinto has one of the more difficult tasks -- to step into the boots of Leonard Nimoy as the half-Vulcan, half-human Spock, and the actor does so completely and successfully. I would argue that he delivers the best performance in the film since a great deal of the time, he struggles to keep the human (read: emotional) side of his personality in check. He and Pine also balance one another well, going from dislike and mistrust to begrudging admiration to outright friendship. Theirs is the bromance at the heart of the film.

The rest of the large cast does yeoman work, although as I mentioned, Bana isn't quite in the pantheon of memorable villains. He's too timid, not theatening enough. He is capable of portraying a vile character as anyone who saw Chopper could attest, but here he is lukewarm. Ben Cross, Winona Rider and Clifton Collins, Jr. are also good in small but pivotal roles. The one jarring appearance -- at least, for me -- was Tyler Perry as a Starfleet admiral. I guess I just didn't expect to see this actor-director in a sci-fi film and it momentarily took me out of the movie. It was an example of stunt casting that backfired a bit.

Otherwise, I readily enjoyed Star Trek and am looking forward to seeing what will unfold in the inevitable sequels. Perhaps they can get it right each time and not every other time.

Rating:    B+

December 16: Of Time and the City

The annual run-up to the Academy Awards is in full swing with various critics groups announcing their prizes and while there seems to be something of a consensus on the major awards (The Hurt Locker, Jeff Bridges or George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Christoph Waltz and Mo'Nique keep appearing with regularity), I took note of one selection by the New York Film Critics Circle which bestowed its prize for non-fiction film on Of Time and the City, Terence Davies' meditative look at his hometown of Liverpool.

Years ago, I was priviliged to work at a company that had many erudite individuals who all loved movies and TV. It was always fun to chat with them, because I honestly learned something. One of my co-workers, the late Kent Greene, was the person who really introduced me to the films of Terence Davies. Kent had been an admirer of the filmmaker's early efforts and after seeing his infectious reactions to them, I sought them out and was not disappointed. I will grant you, though, that I can see how films like The Long Day Closes and Distant Voices, Still Lives might not hold popular appeal. I, however, find both of them to be wonderful, evocative of a recent past. Both films have strong autobiographical elements and both play almost like documentaries, although they are clearly fictional.

Unfortunately, Terence Davies is not a prolific director -- and I'm unsure exactly why. He has spoken of the difficulties he has faced in securing financing for his movies and that is just sad. Such an incredible talent -- with an unique voice and perspective. His last feature film was 2000's The House of Mirth -- in my estimation the best film of that year with an underappreciated and underrated performance by Gillian Anderson.

After nearly a decade, Davies has returned with a film
that in my estimation falls just short of being a masterpiece. There is much to admire in it but even at only 74 minutes, there are a few spots where it drags a tiny bit. As much as it pains me to say it, I did find myself becoming slightly bored.

Nevertheless, this film -- which is subtitled "a love song and a eulogy" -- posseses some vibrant and memorable images, from children playing to older women washing laundry to the sights and sounds of this port city. Davies was born and raised in Liverpool and while today most people know of the city as the birthplace of the Beatles, it is and was so much more. For many years, it was a way station for Irish immigrants fleeing the famine and hardships of rural life who were en route to something better in London or the United States. Indeed, a large number of Irish settled in Liverpool and the city had a notable Roman Catholic population, including Davies. In his voiceover narration that veers from seriousness to dollops of sarcasm, mostly directed at Mother Church or the queen, whom he calls "Betty Windsor" in a typically irreverant fashion.

As in his other films, Davies adopts a very impressionistic style. The film is born of memories and as such there is no particular linear storyline. Instead, we get glimpses of buildings and places or people and faces that cause the filmmaker to launch into a reverie, sometimes poignant, sometimes bitter, sometimes rueful. We see a life in Liverpool, whether it be a typical one or not is debatable. But themes of religion, sex and homosexuality, the arts as healer (particularly the cinema), violence, loss, death, decay, rebirth, all permeate this movie and mesh together. Davies has crafted a tone poem that is rifled with autobiography. It's devestating and uplifting, if occasionally marred by too much repetition. Davies is nothing if not a passionate filmmaker and I just hope it won't be another eight or ten years before he gets to make another film.

Rating:     A-

December 15: Dentists and Christmas music

So in a slight departure for today's entry, I'm refraining from doing an actual movie review (or two or more).
This was a very strange day for me. If you had asked me, I would have sworn that I had an appointment for dental surgery tomorrow -- Wednesday. However, when I awoke to my alarm and turned on the local news (I tend to gravitate to WBZ for some reason, even though it is a CBS affiliate), and someone mentioned the date, it resonated in my then very sleepy mind. December 15. I have a dental appointment, but it can't be the 15th because it's Tuesday and I made a Wednesday appointment. Then it began to penetrate and I went into warp speed. Showering, shaving and dressing in record time, I arrived a full 15 minutes early. And the doctor had an early appointment that ran late. Anyway, I got what needed to be done taken care of, got the prescription drugs (for pain -- which I ended up needing) and am making the adjustment to soft foods and chewing on one side of my mouth.

While I was sitting in the chair, though, I usually have flashbacks to the way dentists have been portrayed in the movies. One of the first things that springs to my mind is Marathon Man - "Is it safe?" Laurence Olivier may have been aged but he was damn scary and Dusting Hoffman may have required some Method work to portray terrified, but that scene is very scary to me and has colored how I see the profession.

Of course, I wish I could be more like Jack Nicholson in Little Shop of Horrors or to a lesser extent Bill Murray in the musical remake. In the latter, the dentist is played by Steve Martin and that wasn't to be his last take on the profession. He later showed up as tooth doctor suspected of murder in Novocaine. Then there was the dentist who was a murder victim in Compromising Positions. Do you see a pattern here?

Anyway, once I got back from the office, I put on some soothing music.  Now I'm not much for holiday recordings, mostly because their shelf life is so limited. (I'm not the type to listen to carols in July.) But I actually did purchase a CD of holiday music recently and after a couple of listens, I can highly recommend it:  "Christmas Mornings" by Brent Barrett.

Who is Brent Barrett you may be asking? Well if you don't know, shame on you, as he is one of the American theater's best musical performers. Back when soap opera mattered, he appeared on "All My Children" as the stumbling block between Kim Delaney's Jenny and Laurence Lau's Greg. But he's better known for his stage appearances in Closer Than Ever, Grand Hotel, and Chicago. He's got a terrific, rich tenor voice and the selection of songs includes standard fare ("White Christmas", "Winter Wonderland"), some lesser known gems (the title track), a few Broadway numbers ("A Place Called Home" in a medly with "I'll Be Home for Christmas", and "Lovers on Christmas Eve"), plus one that he has a sonwriting credit on ("A Star To Guide Me"). It's a charming, enjoyable selection that actually succeeded in putting me (who could give the Grinch lessons) into a holiday frame of mind. You can order it from Kritzerland or at Barrett's website.

Hopefully, I'll get back into the movie review mode tomorrow but my mouth is throbbing, there's a pill with my name on it and a strong need for some sleep. Till anon.

December 14: Humpday

Well, maybe I should have saved reviewing this film for a Wednesday instead of Monday, but I felt it was necessary to write about it in a somewhat timely fashion. You see I won a Twitter contest sponsored by Magnolia Pictures and the DVD arrived on my doorstop fairly recently. I had a couple of other things in the pile to get through first but last night, with nothing to watch on the tube, I popped the disc in, sat back and watched.

Humpday, written and directed by Lynn Shelton, revolves around the relationship between two males: Ben (Mark Duplass, who with his brother Jay makes movies like The Puffy Chair and Baghead), and Andrew (Joshua Leonard, arguably the more successful of the people involved with The Blair Witch Project).

Andrew is sort of the quintessential Peter Pan -- the boy who won't grow up. He arrives at Ben's home in the middle of the night and ingratiates his way into the placid life that Ben and his wife Anna (Alycia Delmore) have built. At this point, I sort of felt I was watching a low-budget remake of You, Me & Dupree, but Lynn Shelton thankfully had other ideas.

Soon Ben is standing up Anna as he follows Andrew on his wayward adventures -- hooking up with a bisexual woman (writer-director Shelton) and her coterie of assorted polyamorous pals. While getting alternately drunk and stoned, Andrew and Ben hatch a plan to participate in an "art" festival where each entrant makes a porn film. After some discussion, the boys hit on the very weird notion of filming themselves having sex because in their minds there's no such thing as straight men having sex together on camera. (If they were to check out the Internet, they'd see that there's a myriad of porn sites that purport to show exactly that.)

That's the premise of this well-made and surprising little movie. I will confess, it took a while to hook me in. The first couple of scenes were somewhat meandering and a bit too loose for my tastes. But then, those appear to be the hallmarks of the genre dubbed "mumblecore" -- low-budget with a slightly improvisatory feel. (I have seen a couple of them, but only one other has made an impression on me -- I'm saving that review for a more appropriate date -- oops, I may have tipped my hand there.)

                                       
 Mark Duplass and Josh Leonard in Humpday.
   Photo courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.


Back to Humpday. Once it settles down a bit, it becomes a really intriguing character study centered on three people. Ben agrees to do this oddball venture because he feels he owes it to his best friend. There's no homophile vibe. No one is secretly gay or anything, but Ben has an affecting confessional moment that helps to define his character. Andrew, for his part, just thinks it's a goof and like much of his free-wheeling life, he's just going along with the flow. He doesn't really take into consideration Anna until they attempt a get-to-know-you evening.

For her part, Anna is the most unusual character because she doesn't quite react in the cliched terms one might expect in a Hollywood film. Delmore has a flint-like charm and she comes off as the most relateable of the characters. She and Duplass have an easy chemistry -- they are belivable as a couple -- and there's one particular scene where she reveals something that is devestating to watch thanks to the superlative acting.

The final section of the movie is a comic delight as the guys head off to a motel to actually make their porn film and discover a lot about themselves.

So the upshot is that after a slightly rocky start, Humpday turns into a compelling and enjoyable movie about male bonding, the limits of friendships, marriage and several shades of love. Check it out!

The DVD has two commentary tracks -- one with the two lead actors who offer some interesting insights into the making of the movie, and another from the director, the leading lady and several of the crew that is equally informative. (My only quibble is that there are too many people offering insight.) There's also the requisite deleted scenes (most of which are easily understood as not being that germane to the film) and a behind the scenes featurette and trailer of other Magnolia Pictures offerings.

Rating:    B+

December 13: A Little Night Music

In honor of the opening of the first Broadway revival of the Stephen Sondheim-Hugh Wheeler masterpiece -- which is one of my favorite musicals -- I pulled out my copy of this movie and watched it again.

The show is based on Ingmar Bergman's 1955 comedy Smiles of a Summer Night, which in turn owes something to Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Comedy in that both revolve around a series of mismatched lovers. Bergman's charming and droll film has been well served in Hugh Wheeler's adaptation. (As a side note, I feel a need to point out that Wheeler was one of the better musical book writers and his contributions to this play and to Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street are often overlooked in the same manner that Piave's contributions to Rigoletto and La traviata aren't always recognized. It's a composer's world, I guess.)

Only four scant years after the musical graced Broadway, Harold Prince had the notion to turn the stage show into a film. Unfortunately, it was a troubled production, despite the presence of a genuine movie star -- Elizabeth Taylor -- in the lead role. Financing proved difficult and there were starts and stops in filming. What ended up on screen is a pale imitation of the enjoyable stage musical.

It's always interested me that Prince could employ cinematic techniques when directing for the theater but put him behind a camera and he was at sea. His first effort, the Wheeler-penned film Something for Everyone, did not exactly inspire rave reviews. For A Little Night Music, the location was switched from Sweden to Vienna (because the score was written in 3/4 time?) which required renaming some of the characters. In the show, there is a group of leider singers who function as a chorus, but they are jettisoned, despite the film's first sequence that makes it appear the audience is watching a stage show. Somehow with the financial uncertainty, that aspect of the production got forgotten.


Instead, the audience gets a very turgid version of the original with almost all sense of the comedy lost. In a nutshell, lawyer Fredrick Egerman (Len Cariou) is married to his virginal second wife Anne (Lesley-Anne Down) who is the object of desire of his seminarian son Erich (Christopher Guard). Egerman decides to seek counsel from his ex-mistress Desiree (Elizabeth Taylor), a bohemian actress with a teenage daughter (Chloe Franks). She is also carrying on a relationship with a titled military man (Laurence Guittard) whose long-suffering wife (Diana Rigg) is acquainted with Egerman's wife Anne. All parties converge at the estate of Desiree's mother (Hermione Gingold) where the relationships get sorted out.

Cariou, Guittard and Gingold reprise their stage roles. None of the movie star names -- Down, Taylor and Rigg -- (who look gorgeous in Florence Klotz's Oscar-nominated costumes) are particularly noted for their singing abilities. Taylor tries mightily hard but doesn't capture the essence of the character. Her version of the show's best-known song "Send in the Clowns" is passable but hardly memorable. Gingold does what she can with her part but the best performance (in what is generally thought to be the best role) comes from Rigg.

That's feignt praise, though, as this film is nothing short of a disaster. Whether it was because of the monetary problems, Prince's lack of experience with film, bad casting decisions, or some combination of all, this version of A Little Night Music falls far short of the possibilities inherent in this musical. Hollywood has remake fever, yet they don't seem to want to take on terrible movies that cry out for a new version (like this one). Perhaps if the new revival proves to be a hit, then someone might take another crack at it.

Rating:      D+