Aurelia Butler

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    Review: In the ‘Ernest & Celestine’ Sequel, a Prodigal Cub Returns

    The delightful odd couple of the Oscar-nominated French film head to the mountains in ‘A Trip to Gibberitia.’ Every frame brims with painterly detail.One of the many enduring pleasures of “Ernest & Celestine,” the 2014 French film about the unlikely bond between a bear and a mouse, is its rhapsodic bridging of music and imagery. The tale (based on books by Gabrielle Vincent) is rendered with gossamer line drawings so wedded to their accompanying score that the images sometimes ripple, swell and curl in tandem with the musical notes.“Ernest & Celestine: A Trip to Gibberitia” is the gem of a sequel to that Oscar-nominated film, centering the story this time around on music as the sine qua non of community. The plucky, petite mouse Celestine (voiced by Pauline Brunner) and the surly troubadour Ernest (Lambert Wilson) trek to Ernest’s hometown, Gibberitia, a majestic but autocratic city in the mountains where music is no longer legal. Not even birds are exempt; tuneful warblers are shooed and hosed down by the police.While the earlier film tilted toward Celestine, “A Trip to Gibberitia,” directed by Julien Chheng and Jean-Christophe Roger, hangs on Ernest, a prodigal cub who soon learns that his father, a state judge, instated the ban out of spite.The brisk, lively plot has shades of a French Revolutionary spirit — a band of insurgent musicians call their underground movement “the resistance” — but the film’s real magic lies in the illustrations. Backdrops brim with painterly detail, and tiny changes in characters’ faces convey worlds of feeling. In a film whose moral emphasizes the necessity of artistic freedom, there is a deceptive simplicity to this aesthetic style that makes it all the more special.Ernest and Celestine: A Trip to GibberitiaNot rated. In French, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘We Kill for Love’ Review: Soft-Core Erotica of the VCR Years

    This documentary explores a narrow genre of direct-to-VHS soft-core thrillers that found a niche with the advent of video rentals and home viewing.If “Boogie Nights” had a villain, it was videotape. For the characters, the arrival of that technology put an end to a golden age of pornographic movies and spoiled the illusion that they were making art.The documentary “We Kill for Love” counters that the home video market inaugurated a heady era of its own: not a renaissance of hard-core porn, but the boom in direct-to-VHS soft-core that peaked in the 1990s, thanks in part to demand at outlets like Blockbuster, which at least officially shunned anything rated NC-17.These movies had a parallel production system, an alternate universe of stars (Shannon Tweed, Joan Severance) and titles that the documentary likens to a magnetic-poetry kit of recurring adjective-noun combinations: “Dangerous Obsession,” “Criminal Passion,” “Inner Sanctum 2.” As the film notes in a funny sequence, the industry also complicated life for archivists by recycling cover art and altering names.“We Kill for Love,” subtitled “The Lost World of the Erotic Thriller” — and wittily billed not as “a film by” but “a video by” its director, Anthony Penta — makes clear that it’s primarily interested in this semi-forgotten subculture and its product, much of which never reached DVD. Enduring mainstream smashes like “Fatal Attraction” and “Basic Instinct” might have similar subject matter, but they don’t quite count.Both of those films come in for analysis, though, with the “Fatal Attraction” screenwriter James Dearden particularly thoughtful in an interview. Somewhat contradictorily, “We Kill for Love” tries to elevate its catalog of Grade-Z erotica to an ostensibly rightful place beside those hits — and even into the canon, alongside Hitchcock, “Double Indemnity” and “Dressed to Kill.” The documentary deftly mixes interviews with vintage-noir scholars like James Ursini and Alain Silver with observations by veterans of direct-to-video productions. The actress Monique Parent says her output was so prolific in the 1990s that she can’t always remember which movie is which.These films certainly offer fodder for academics. “We Kill for Love” notes that they could only flourish once private viewing became possible, and that distribution through video stores enabled filmmakers to recoup their costs. Nina K. Martin, the author of “Sexy Thrills: Undressing the Erotic Thriller,” argues that these neglected movies pay more attention to women: “If we only had films like ‘Jade,’ ‘Fatal Attraction,’ ‘Basic Instinct,’ ‘Body of Evidence,’ then we would just think that women were these sexual creatures — dangerous, deadly, mysterious — and that men had to somehow be careful of them or tame them.”Despite a game effort to vouch for the aesthetic vision of the director Zalman King (“Red Shoe Diaries”), whose daughter Chloe King appears here as a frequent commentator, the dialogue, acting and mise-en-scène in the clips does not support the notion of a lost universe of classics, or even a cycle rich enough to sustain 163 minutes of close reading — a soft-core companion to Thom Andersen’s great cinematic essay “Los Angeles Plays Itself,” a template that “We Kill for Love” intermittently evokes. Many of the sociological insights — about the tropes used to signify wealth and status, for instance — could apply to Hollywood equivalents.Still, there’s something tough to resist about how “We Kill for Love” rescues works from the shadows.We Kill for LoveNot rated. Running time: 2 hours 43 minutes. Available to rent or buy on most major platforms. More

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    ‘Fremont’ Review: Rapid Transit

    This dry, understated film follows a young Afghan refugee looking for connection in her new home, the San Francisco Bay Area.“Fremont” takes its title from the Bay Area city of the same name. Often called Little Kabul, it’s home to one of the largest enclaves of Afghans in the United States, with many immigrants gravitating toward it for a sense of community. That’s what Donya (Anaita Wali Zada) is searching for: Community. Connection. Love. These are difficult pursuits for anyone in these atomized times, but especially for Donya, a young refugee and former translator for the American military.Being in Fremont, living among other Afghans, isn’t a huge comfort for Donya. Perhaps because her memories of home aren’t cozy — in fact, they fill her with dread and guilt. The details of what she left behind aren’t the focus here. It’s enough to know that they keep her awake at night; that she prefers the lightly numbing, Zenlike routine of her unglamorous job at a fortune-cookie factory in San Francisco.The British Iranian filmmaker Babak Jalali captures Donya’s existential plight with the dry, contemplative mood of a film by Jim Jarmusch or Aki Kaurismaki, both masters of deadpan dramedies infused with melancholia. Shooting in milky black-and-white, Jalali situates Donya in a world of outcasts and loners — people disaffected and worn out yet also capable of compassion and change. Salim (Siddique Ahmed), a fellow insomniac who lives in Donya’s apartment complex, gives her his slot with a psychiatrist, Dr. Anthony (Gregg Turkington), who sees him pro bono.An appointment isn’t like a movie ticket that you can just hand over to a friend, Dr. Anthony explains, fussing over protocol. Donya persuades him to take her on anyway, beginning a series of droll (if not exactly helpful) consultations. After Donya is promoted to fortune writer at the factory, her boss’s vengeful wife (Jennifer McKay) discovers that Donya has written her phone number on the paper in one cookie. She calls for Donya’s firing. Her husband (Eddie Tang) sees it differently: If anything, Donya’s attempt to reach out to another lost soul makes her precisely the kind of person who should be inventing dreamy maxims.Jalali and his co-writer, Carolina Cavalli, point to the ways in which bureaucratic rigidity and cutthroat capitalism can cripple us. They stop short of reducing the film to a story about social injustices while deftly steering clear of an overly cutesy tone and messaging about our shared humanity, or whatever. Expressionistic interludes — shadows mingling on a stairwell wall, a globe spinning at a blurred speed — capture the uncanny nature of social interactions among the displaced and disoriented.Jalali complements this wistful mood with a jazzy score from Mahmood Schricker, which, driven by sitar and low-pitched horn, seems to cut through the dead air of Donya’s impassive encounters. If the humor in these moments doesn’t always click, it’s because there’s only so much awkward-giggle mileage in Jalali’s drawn-out takes of two people talking face-to-face.A first-time actor who fled Afghanistan in 2021, Wali Zada emits a natural warmth and poignancy as she delivers intentionally vacant line readings. This flattens some of the wryer scenes but makes Donya’s measured expressions of longing and hopefulness sing. She’s what makes the final act — which features a solitary mechanic played by Jeremy Allen White (of “The Bear”) — so moving and romantic. Jalali maintains a mysterious ambiguity, but Wali Zada conveys what matters: Donya has found somewhere she wants to be.FremontNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 31 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Choose Love’ Review: Pick Your Own Cliché

    This interactive Netflix rom-com lets viewers make choices on behalf of the main character, changing the story. But each path is banal.Netflix’s latest interactive movie, “Choose Love,” is an attempt to apply a dating simulator experience to a standard-issue rom-com. Its choose-your-own-adventure interface — like the one in the 2019 “Black Mirror” movie “Bandersnatch,” another Netflix production — allows viewers to make decisions for Cami Conway (Laura Marano), a young woman who suddenly finds herself having to choose between three suitors. The choices that viewers select with the click of a button (Should Cami kiss this man or dodge his advances? Should she wear this dress or that one?) will ultimately inform which guy she ends up with.Except, there’s not as much choice left to the viewer as meets the eye. The movie’s opening scene is a tarot reading where you get to help Cami decide whether she wants “good news” or “bad news” first. But either way, it’s the same set of cards. After a pleasant but banal double-date night with her long-term boyfriend, Paul (Scott Michael Foster), she runs into an erstwhile high school heartthrob, Jack (Jordi Webber), while dropping her niece off at school, learning that he’s now a professional photographer with humanitarian priorities. He takes pictures of children for charity.She meets her third suitor, a famous pop musician named Rex Galier (Avan Jogia), when he rents out space at the recording studio where she works as a sound engineer. Rex asks for her advice on a new track he’s producing, and — whether or not you pick “lie and say it’s good” or “brutal honesty” — he takes a liking to her expertise and asks her to record with him. Cami’s longtime dream of a singing career is reawakened, and she finds herself faced with three potential life paths: play it safe, reconnect with the one who got away or chase stardom with a famous beau.The interactive features in “Choose Love” more or less boil down to two or three pivotal scenes that determine which man Cami will spend her life with — and of course, as the credits roll, Netflix encourages you to go back and click a different button for an alternative ending. If only the film were compelling enough to warrant that.While “Bandersnatch” and Netflix’s other attempts at interactive storytelling, like the “Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt” special “Kimmy vs. The Reverend,” were not without their flaws, their unpredictability — whether through dystopian thrills or comedic timing — kept the gimmick somewhat afloat. But the main selling point of “Choose Love,” directed by Stuart McDonald, seems to be that viewers get to pick which stale rom-com trope they see play out onscreen. Predictability aside, “Choose Love” resembles less of a comforting rom-com than it does the forgone conclusion to streaming’s algorithm-powered media: a series of disconnected, shallow interactions, each leading to a different predetermined cliché.Choose LoveNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 17 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More

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    ‘The Mountain’ Review: Stone-Faced in Nature’s Splendors

    In this drama directed by and starring Thomas Salvador, an urbanite plunges into treacherous conditions.Thomas Salvador’s “The Mountain” is a lightweight parable about a man who abandons modernity to connect with the earth. On impulse, a Parisian robotics engineer named Pierre (Salvador, who also wrote the script with Naïla Guiguet), extends a work trip to scale France’s snow-capped Mont Blanc. “I can’t resist,” he says, and for a while the film plays like a silent comedy about a transcendence junkie itching for a fix. Pierre’s cable car is too crowded, his new ice crampons look silly alongside other tourists in tees, his scenic glacier-top tent is hemmed-in by more tents. Nevertheless, he prefers not to rejoin civilization — he’s Bartleby the Backpacker, holding out for something he can’t explain.Though this is a story about an urbanite plunging into treacherous conditions, the camping itself appears easy. Pierre looks impressive scaling cliffs. “A change from the climbing gym,” he says placidly. It’s equally incredible that, when the weeks begin to blur, he maintains his neat goatee without ever appearing to shave — and even catches the eye of a quixotic resort chef (Louise Bourgoin) despite having the conversational skills of a rock.Truly communing with nature, however, proves difficult. That is, until the film’s one surprise, a hallucinatory twist which comes so long after the audience has been lulled into the quiet contemplation of snow and clouds that it almost feels like we, too, might be low on oxygen. Some might see the final act as body horror. To the director, it’s a metaphysical sacrament — and all along, his camera has hinted that mankind must commit to the planet before it’s too late.The MountainNot rated. In French, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 53 minutes. In theaters. More

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    36 Hours in Amsterdam: Things to Do and See

    12 p.m.
    Find your perfect street food
    Between the Lindengracht Markt and the neighboring Noordermarkt, a pricier, organic market that also has antiques, handmade jewelry, artisanal pickles, soaps and honey to browse, there are plenty of street-food stalls to choose from. (Walking while eating is frowned upon in Dutch culture, so grab a picnic table). On the Lindengracht side, try a sabich (€7.50), a stuffed vegetarian pita at Abu Salie, or for a classic Dutch lunch, go for the speciaal beenham and braadworst (a sandwich piled high with sausage, ham and sauerkraut, €6) at Fluks & Sons. Stalls throughout the markets also sell raw herring, sometimes covered in onions. Join locals at the Noordermarkt for fresh oysters (from €3.50 each; find them beside the entrance, next to the church tower). Dutch sweets also abound, including the ever-popular poffertjes (mini pancakes in powdered sugar or syrup) or warm and gooey stroopwafels. More

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    Venice Film Festival Finds Drama Without Zendaya

    Day 1 brought challenges but not “Challengers,” the film that had been scheduled to open this usually starry event until it was delayed by the strikes.The sky in Venice wept on Wednesday, for there were no pictures to be taken of Zendaya in couture clambering from a speedboat.No? Too much? Well, it’s hard not to sound melodramatic at a film festival where the movies are big but the mood swings are even bigger. Let me clear my throat, take a swig of this Aperol spritz, and start again …The 80th edition of the Venice Film Festival kicked off on this rainy Wednesday with several big-name auteurs in attendance but few of the stars that this event has come to count on. With dual strikes by the writers and actors guilds forcing a Hollywood shutdown, and the actors forbidden from promoting studio films during the labor action, Venice will inaugurate a fall film season that is still in significant flux.The first day was meant to be turbocharged by the presence of Zendaya, who turned heads here two years ago in a series of stunning dresses while publicizing the first installment of “Dune.” But the shutdown cost Venice the new film she stars in, Luca Guadagnino’s “Challengers,” in which she plays a tennis pro who has to make a romantic choice between two best friends, played by Josh O’Connor and Mike Faist (the cheeky marketing materials tease that on at least one night, she chooses both).Without its lead available to support the film, MGM delayed the release of “Challengers” to spring 2024 and yanked it from the Venice lineup. Taking its place as the festival’s opening-night film was “Comandante,” a World War II film told from the point of view of Italian submariners. While it’s well-shot and full of suspenseful battle sequences, “Comandante” features exactly zero tennis hotties contemplating a threesome, which may hinder its ultimate appeal with a Venice audience that was promised starry romantic high jinks.Though the festival’s artistic director, Alberto Barbera, admitted at a news conference on Wednesday that the likes of Emma Stone (“Poor Things”) and Bradley Cooper (“Maestro”) will not be attending Venice because of the strike, other actors who hail from more independent productions have managed to secure guild waivers, including “Ferrari” star Adam Driver, “Memory” lead Jessica Chastain, and the cast of Sofia Coppola’s “Priscilla.” They’re expected to show up on the Lido this week alongside a posse of high-powered directors that includes David Fincher (“The Killer”), Ava DuVernay (“Origin”) and Richard Linklater (“Hit Man”).Still, the strikes loom large. At Barbera’s news conference, the jury president, the filmmaker Damien Chazelle (“La La Land”), dressed for maximum solidarity, donning a “Writers Guild on Strike!” shirt and a similar button on the lapel of his sport coat. He noted that as of Wednesday, the writers had been on strike for 121 days, with the actors joining them for the last 48 days, and he called on studios to compensate those artists fairly.“I think there’s a basic idea that each work of art has value unto itself, that it’s not just a piece of content, to use Hollywood’s favorite word right now,” Chazelle told reporters, adding that that idea “has been eroded quite a bit over the past 10 years. There’s many issues on the table with the strikes, but to me, that’s the core issue.”Chazelle was joined by the directors Martin McDonagh and Laura Poitras, who both wore shirts supporting the Writers Guild. They are part of a jury that includes the filmmakers Jane Campion and Mia Hansen-Love, among others.“I’m not sure I entirely deserve this spot, but I will do my best to live up to it,” Chazelle said. “I thank Mr. Barbera for his foolishness in letting me try it out.”Though Chazelle has been to Venice a few times before, to debut “La La Land” and his follow-up, “First Man,” he said he still found the place quite surreal. “That fact that you take a boat to a screening, it’s silly,” Chazelle said. “Cinema, to me, is a waking dream and that, to me, is Venice.”See what I said about melodrama? When you’re in Venice, where even the paint peels in the most picturesque way, you just can’t help yourself from indulging. That’s how your columnist felt last night in the rain, mulling over two of the worst disasters to hit Italy in quite some time: St. Mark’s Square was flooded, and there was no Zendaya. But at least the sun will come out tomorrow here, as will the new films by Michael Mann and Wes Anderson. More

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    Ray Hildebrand, the ‘Paul’ of Hitmakers Paul and Paula, Dies at 82

    He wrote a romantic song for his friend’s girlfriend, Paula, and recorded it as a duet with Jill Jackson. It became a No. 1 hit.Ray Hildebrand, whose recording with a friend, Jill Jackson, of a love song he wrote in college, “Hey Paula,” became a No. 1 hit in 1963 and brought them instant fame as Paul and Paula, died on Aug. 18 at his home in Overland Park, Kan. He was 82.His son-in-law, Larry Sterling, said the cause was dementia.“Hey Paula” was a sweet, romantic ballad about a couple close to marrying. Mr. Hildebrand had written it at the request of a friend whose girlfriend was named Paula, but the emotion behind it was for Judy Hendricks, a former girlfriend with whom Mr. Hildebrand wanted to reunite.The song is a musical conversation started by Mr. Hildebrand, who sings in, part:Hey, hey, Paula.I want to marry you.Hey, hey, Paula.No one else could ever do.When Ms. Jackson answers, she sings:Hey, Paul.I’ve been waiting for you.Hey, hey, hey Paul.I want to marry you too.The popularity of “Hey Paula” evolved slowly and then exploded. It began as a song that Mr. Hildebrand and Ms. Jackson sang on a 15-minute radio show she had in Brownwood, Texas, where they were both attending Howard Payne College (now University). The show’s disc jockey told them that listeners loved the song, and suggested they record it.At a studio in Fort Worth, they cut a 45-r.p.m. record, and the song, released on the small Le Cam label, became a regional hit. Recognizing the song’s potential, Mercury Records soon bought their contract and the recording and reissued it on its Philips label.“They changed our names,” Mr. Hildebrand told Link, the Howard Payne magazine, in 2012. “We called the song ‘Paul and Paula’ by Jill and Ray, and they called it ‘Hey Paula’ by Paul and Paula, which is better marketing.”Released in late 1962, “Hey Paula” topped the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the second week of February 1963, displacing “Walk Right In” by the Rooftop Singers. It stayed in the No. 1 spot for three weeks. Paul and Paula’s next single, “Young Lovers,” peaked at No. 6 at the end of that April.They were on tour in England in the spring, when “Hey Paula” rose to No. 8 on the Melody Maker chart and they met the Beatles in a BBC television studio.In June they sang “First Quarrel” on Dick Clark’s “American Bandstand,” and they later joined Mr. Clark’s three-week musical caravan as part of a roster that also included Gene Pitney, Lou Christie, Bob B. Soxx & The Blue Jeans, the Crystals and Ruby and the Romantics.But when the Clark tour reached Cincinnati at the end of July, Mr. Hildebrand realized that he had had enough of the road. At the end of a show, he told Ms. Jackson that he was quitting the tour. He felt he was no longer in control of his life.“So at 5 o’clock in the morning in Cincinnati, I wrote Dick Clark a note and slipped it under his door,” he said at an event held two years ago by the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, a sports ministry, to which he devoted much of his life. “I said, ‘I’m so sorry.’”For the rest of the tour, Mr. Hildebrand said in an interview with the website Classic Bands, Mr. Clark filled in for him on “Hey Paula.”Once he was off the tour, Mr. Hildebrand started dating Miss Hendricks again. They married in early 1964 and stayed together until her death in 1999.Jill Jackson, who is now Jill Landon, said she supported Mr. Hildebrand’s decision to leave the Clark caravan. “It was the right thing for him to do,” she said by phone.She and Mr. Hildebrand released three albums in 1963. They continued to perform together occasionally for a while and, until recently, reunited at oldies shows and other events.Mr. Hildebrand and Ms. Jackson in 1985. Though their days as hitmakers ended in 1963, they continued to reunite for oldies shows and other events. Ron Wolfson/MediaPunch , via AlamyRaymond Glenn Hildebrand was born on Nov. 21, 1940, in Joshua, Texas. His father, Walter, was a school principal; his mother, Alma (Wood) Hildebrand, was a teacher. After attending Navarro Junior College in Corsicana, Texas, he transferred to Howard Payne College on a basketball scholarship.In the summer of 1962, he got a job at the college’s swimming pool and, to save money on housing, lived in the gymnasium. In the quiet of the gym, he started writing songs.He was asked by a teammate to write a song about his girlfriend, Paula. Another teammate listened to an early version of the song, which was told entirely by Paul, and suggested a change.“He said, ‘You ought to let the girl sing back to the guy,’” Mr. Hildebrand recalled in the Link magazine interview. At first, he said, he thought the suggestion was ridiculous, but then he agreed to do it, turning the song into a conversation.After receiving his bachelor’s degree in English in 1964, Mr. Hildebrand started a new career as a contemporary Christian singer and songwriter. He recorded albums under his own name and, starting in the 1980s, with a partner, Paul Land, in an act that mixed music with comedy.From 1967 to 1981, he was program director of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes at the organization’s national office in Kansas City, Mo. It was mostly a musical job, writing songs with pop melodies and performing them at conferences and summer camps for young athletes. He continued to perform at Fellowship events for many years.“He brought a great deal of fun and laughter to the stage,” Wayne Atcheson, a former assistant director of the organization, said in a phone interview. “You never knew what he would say to get a belly laugh.”Mr. Hildebrand was inducted into the Fellowship’s Hall of Champions in 2003.He also worked as a television producer and a real estate appraiser.He is survived by his daughter, Heidi Sterling; his son, Michael; seven grandchildren; four great-grandchildren; and a brother, Steve.Looking back at “Hey Paula” many years later, Mr. Hildebrand said he understood its appeal.“I think one of the things ‘Hey Paula’ had was, it was like a couple dating over the air,” he said in the Classic Bands interview. “They were singing back and forth to each other. You had your Steve and Eydies, but it was not in the teenage pizza-and-peanut-butter songs.”He added: “It was marketable. It was cute.” More