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    ‘Icahn: The Restless Billionaire’ Review: Right on the Money

    The war stories of the famed financier Carl C. Icahn power this deft documentary portrait.To the uninitiated, the term activist investor can sound as if a shareholder is out on Wall Street with a picket sign and a cause. Carl C. Icahn, an activist investor par excellence, is a veteran of what the practice actually entails: buying a stake in a company and pushing for changes in management or strategy. Above all, as the genial documentary portrait “Icahn: The Restless Billionaire” explains, he’s dauntingly good at making money.The octogenarian Icahn anchors this deft pocket biography, with his appealing directness and dead-level stare, as he presides at the office and around the house. The Queens-raised son of a cantor and a teacher, Icahn has for decades targeted firms like Tappan, Texaco and Apple, while seeking out undervalued stocks.The director, Bruce David Klein, smartly builds out Icahn’s war stories in terms of problem solving and negotiation, not mere bets. Icahn’s triumphs, as well as his past tangles with the Transport Workers Union and the hedge fund manager Bill Ackman, create ready-made drama, while visits with his family (and a wizardly synthesizer score) keep up a sunny vibe.But even for Icahn, a respected headline-maker who has taken the Giving Pledge, the profile can be a little soft. It blurs comparisons to corporate raiders in its rote account of the 1980s. The talking-head commentary is dominated by finance journalists (including Andrew Ross Sorkin of The New York Times) and millionaires, without always clarifying Icahn’s financial maneuvers (or his political ones, such as his service under Donald Trump as a special adviser).The perspective — while producing something eminently watchable — may strike some viewers as old-fashioned and incomplete.Icahn: The Restless BillionaireNot rated. Running time 1 hour 41 minutes. Watch on HBO Max. More

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    Isabelle Huppert Doesn’t Watch Her Past Films, but She Will Discuss Them

    The Berlin International Film Festival is honoring the superstar of art house cinema with a lifetime achievement award. She took us through some career highlights.BERLIN — Isabelle Huppert isn’t fond of nostalgia. In her five-decade career, the 68-year-old French actress has appeared in over 120 films, including recurring collaborations with some of the most important filmmakers in postwar European cinema. Her ability to channel brittle vulnerability, intellectual forcefulness and icy hauteur (often simultaneously) in films like Michael Haneke’s “The Piano Teacher” and Paul Verhoeven’s “Elle” have made her one of the few true superstars of international art house film.The Berlin International Film Festival will award her an honorary Golden Bear for lifetime achievement on Tuesday, which Huppert will not accept in person after testing positive for the coronavirus, according to a news release from the festival.The festival will still celebrate her career by showing seven of her films, although Huppert said in a recent phone interview that she had little interest in looking back. She explained that the award was “as much about the present and the future than about the past.” She added that she rarely rewatched her old films: “I don’t have time to see new films. Why should I lose time watching my previous ones?”Huppert’s schedule is almost comically packed. She has one film (“Promises”) currently in French cinemas and three more set for release in the coming months. Another, “About Joan,” is screening at this year’s Berlin Film Festival. She is currently shooting “The Union Lady” with the French director Jean-Paul Salomé, and this year, Huppert is going on tour with two plays as well. She also revealed that she was slated to appear in the next film by François Ozon.Nevertheless, Huppert said she saw the Golden Bear “as a recognition for the directors I’ve worked with.” With that in mind, the actress shared insights about her experiences working on the films being screened at the Berlin retrospective. Here are edited extracts from that conversation.‘The Lacemaker’ (1977)In this slow-paced drama directed by Claude Goretta, Huppert plays Pomme, a shy salon employee who embarks on a romance with a university student.Huppert and Yves Beneyton in “The Lacemaker.”Jupiter FilmsI had done films before, but this was the film that defined me as a young actress, because it was so much about interiority. It was a great role as a career starter — one of these roles that imprints itself on you. She is a young lady who does not speak much, who has a relationship with this intellectual. It was very dramatic and emotional, but it didn’t play with the seduction and physicality that is usually connected to young people.I’ve never played soft characters. They were always very powerful, and very intense. They could be silent, but they were never soft. She expresses herself more with looks and with her eyes and her physical attitude than with words. Cinema is the perfect medium for revealing the unsaid, and “The Lacemaker” is really about this.‘Every Man For Himself’ (1980)In this French New Wave classic by Jean-Luc Godard, Huppert portrays a prostitute navigating her clients’ absurd fantasies.Huppert in “Every Man for Himself.”Saga ProductionsMy character was a very unusual way to show a prostitute: I didn’t really look like what you’d expect, and there was a poetry to it. The movie is about money and bodies, not really about prostitution, and there was very little sexuality shown in front of the camera.Godard has a special way of working: There was no script and there were very few people, sometimes just images or music. We went to a shopping mall and bought our costumes. It went against all principles of organization and preparation. I wasn’t intimidated by Godard. I was never intimidated by anyone, at least no directors. If you are intimidated, things become impossible. I was always confident.I like what Godard once said about me: “It’s visible when she is thinking.” That is probably one of the best compliments I’ve gotten in my life.‘La Cérémonie’ (1995)Huppert plays Jeanne, a postal worker in a small town with a grudge against a wealthy family, in this film by Claude Chabrol.Sandrine Bonnaire and Huppert in “La Cérémonie.”Jeremy NassifI’ve always worked with unsentimental directors who make no attempt to make people better than they are, and this was really Chabrol’s specialty. We were exactly in tune, like in music. He asked me which role I wanted and I said the post office girl. Compared to some of the previous characters I had played, she was very talkative. She kills with words and speaks and speaks and speaks.I don’t think much before I act. I just do it. It’s instinctive and very intuitive and certainly I don’t have thorough discussions with the director beforehand. The relationship between a director and an actress is so powerful and fascinating. Why does a director want to film you? Why is he interested in what you are, your face, your body, your way of moving or talking? It’s unconscious and conscious, it’s an invisible and mute language, but it is a language. It’s what I cherish and love most about cinema.‘The Piano Teacher’ (2001)Directed by Michael Haneke, Huppert plays a Viennese piano teacher who has a boundary-pushing sadomasochistic relationship with a student.Benoît Magimel and Huppert in “The Piano Teacher.”WEGA FilmAgainst all odds, Haneke is so easy to work with. He is very pragmatic and concrete. Even in the most daring scenes, the most incredible scenes, it’s about how to place the frame, it’s technical. Some scenes go quite far, but Haneke is a master of making the audience think they see things that he doesn’t show. His direction, his mise-en-scène is very protective for the actors. As an actress, I never felt exposed.I don’t think when you do a film you go, “Oh my God, I’m going to do a provocative film.” Of course, it’s also a game, to go as far as you want, to show things people have difficulty watching. At the end of the day, it’s a very strange love story, but it’s also an exploration of the mystery of love and of how this woman wants to impose her own view of love.Five Movies to Watch This WinterCard 1 of 51. “The Power of the Dog”: More

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    The 5 Best Actors Who Have Played Hercule Poirot

    Agatha Christie’s Belgian sleuth has inspired many interpretations, none exactly true to her novels, including Kenneth Branagh’s approach in “Death on the Nile.”Hercule Poirot is one of those literary heroes, like James Bond or Sherlock Holmes, whose image blazes brightly in the popular imagination. From his debut in Agatha Christie’s 1920 novel, “The Mysterious Affair at Styles,” through his final appearance in “Curtain,” published in 1975, the Belgian detective cut a simple, distinctive figure: a “quaint, dandified little man,” as Christie wrote, “hardly more than 5 foot 4 inches,” with a head “exactly the shape of an egg,” a “pink-tipped nose” and, in what is probably the most famous instance of facial hair in the history of English literature, an enormous, “upward-curled mustache” — which Christie later boasted was no less than the finest one in England.Christie wrote more than 80 novels and short stories about Poirot, and nearly all of them have been adapted for film and television. Many actors have stepped into the role over the years, each trying to give it his own spin, much as a stage actor might take a fresh crack at King Lear. Tony Randall, in Frank Tashlin’s 1965 mystery-comedy “The Alphabet Murders,” played it for laughs, exaggerating Poirot’s exotic pomposity with farcical zeal. By contrast, Alfred Molina, in a made-for-TV version of “Murder on the Orient Express” from 2001, brought a subtler, more muted touch, softening the character’s sometimes cartoonish extravagance. Hugh Laurie once even donned the iconic ’stache for a cameo in “Spice World,” letting Baby Spice (Emma Bunton) get away with murder.But of the dozens of takes on Poirot over the last century or so, only a handful have truly endured, leaving a permanent mark on the character. These are the interpretations that come to mind when most people think of Hercule Poirot, and in their own way, each of these versions seems to some extent definitive. As Kenneth Branagh’s “Death on the Nile” arrives in cinemas, we look back at the most famous and esteemed versions.1931-34Austin TrevorAustin Trevor in a scene from “Lord Edgware Dies” (1934).Real Art ProductionsAs he was young, tall and (unforgivably) clean-shaven, the dashing leading man Austin Trevor was a conspicuous — some might say egregious — departure from the source material. He starred in three adaptations of Poirot’s adventures between 1931 and 1934, of which only the last, “Lord Edgware Dies,” survives today (available on YouTube). Trevor’s portrayal, while pleasant in its own right, differed enough from Christie’s description that the magazine Picturegoer Weekly ran an editorial lambasting it, under the headline “Bad Casting.” The most flagrant change is to the world-famous Belgian’s nationality: This Poirot has been inexplicably made a Parisian.“Lord Edgware Dies,” based on a Christie novel known as “Thirteen at Dinner” in the United States, concerns a wealthy American actress and socialite (Jane Carr) who commissions Poirot to secure her divorce from her obstinate husband, Lord Edgware (C. V. France). Edgware soon agrees, then turns up dead; Poirot, intrigued, investigates the murder. Detective films were popular in the early 1930s, and Trevor’s Poirot feels indebted to other charming, debonair sleuths of the era, in particular those played by William Powell in films like “The Thin Man” and “The Kennel Murder Case.” In all, it’s an adequate if unfaithful rendition, but it’s a relief that Christie’s creation was later realized with more fidelity.1974Albert FinneyAlbert Finney, false nose and all, in “Murder on the Orient Express.”United Artists/AlamyAmong other virtues, Albert Finney’s portrayal in Sidney Lumet’s “Murder on the Orient Express” (available to stream on Paramount+) is a major feat of makeup and prosthetics: a full-face getup encompassing wrinkles, jowls and false nose, designed to make the trim, 38-year-old Finney look the part of the world-weary Poirot in portly middle age. Lumet’s adaptation of one of Christie’s most celebrated books is a New Hollywood love letter to the Golden Age, with Finney leading an ensemble that includes such luminaries as Ingrid Bergman and Lauren Bacall. A rail-bound chamber drama structured around long, loquacious interrogation scenes, it’s an acting showcase of the classical variety. (Incidentally, this is the only Poirot performance to be nominated for an Oscar.)Finney’s Poirot is curt and flinty, his clipped accent gruff and gravel-throated. While he embodies many of the qualities characteristic of Christie’s original — cunning, headstrong, fastidious about his appearance — he is more serious and vehement, and scrutinizes the evidence grimly, with great intensity, like a predator carefully circling his prey. The film’s climax is explosive, with Finney rattling off his conclusions about the case in a frenzied fever pitch.1978-88Peter UstinovPeter Ustinov in “Death on the Nile” in 1978, the first of his Poirot outings.AlamyThe English actor Peter Ustinov appeared as Poirot a half-dozen times, beginning with the magnificent “Death on the Nile” in 1978 (streaming on the Criterion Channel). This Poirot is playful, boyish, even a bit whimsical; Ustinov imbues him with a light, teasing air, finding a latent amusement in even the most diabolical matters. Fans who prefer Ustinov in the role tend to respond to his immense warmth: He has a grandfatherly manner that makes him instantly likable, which also cleverly belies his brilliance and perspicacity. You sort of expect Finney’s Poirot to get to the bottom of things, but with Ustinov, the sudden penetrating deductions feel like more of a surprise.Ustinov took to the part so naturally that he continued to play Poirot onscreen for 10 more years. “Death on the Nile” was followed in 1982 by “Evil Under the Sun,” co-starring James Mason and based on the novel of the same name, and then several made-for-television films, including “Dead Man’s Folly” and “Murder in Three Acts.” Curiously, the TV movies did away with the period setting of the previous features, transplanting Ustinov’s Poirot from the 1930s to the present day — a poor fit that finds Poirot visiting such incongruous locales as the set of a prime-time talk show.1989-2013David SuchetDavid Suchet in his series’ take on “Murder on the Orient Express.”ITV for Masterpiece“You’re Poirot?” a woman asks, aghast, in the opening minutes of the pilot episode of “Agatha Christie’s Poirot,” the ITV series about the detective. “You’re not a bit how I thought you’d be.” David Suchet, the star, shrugs: C’est moi. Ironically, for most viewers, Suchet is not just like Poirot, he’s synonymous with him. The actor played him on television for nearly 25 years, appearing in 70 episodes, ultimately covering Christie’s entire Poirot corpus, concluding with “Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case” in 2013. Each episode is like a self-contained movie, telling a complete story and often running to feature length.Five Movies to Watch This WinterCard 1 of 51. “The Power of the Dog”: More

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    ‘Oscar Peterson: Black + White’ Review: Never Mind the Talking Heads

    The flashing fingers of this jazz piano icon, and his mesmerizing tracks, are all the perspective we need.At one in point in “Oscar Peterson: Black + White,” Barry Avrich’s documentary about the Canadian jazz pianist, Billy Joel is raving about the speed of Peterson’s hands on the piano. “You’d try to watch what he was doing,” he explained, “but it’s a blur.”True enough, but completely redundant: We’re already watching Peterson’s hands flash across the keys, in the crisp archival concert footage Joel is talking over. The breathless praise adds nothing; in fact, it distracts from the pleasure of seeing a jazz great perform. As a recent viral tweet skewering this music-doc convention sarcastically pointed out, we don’t need a bunch of interviews with experts “to put the band in historical context.” Seeing Peterson play is more than enough.“Black + White” does feature plenty of Peterson’s music, including several cover renditions performed in tribute for the film by a contemporary ensemble. But at almost every opportunity, Avrich undermines these numbers by cutting to one of an endless lineup of talking heads, usually to repeat predictable platitudes about Peterson’s brilliance. The footage of Peterson at work is an infinitely better testament to that brilliance than words of admiration from artists he influenced. What’s more, the relevance of the interviewees varies wildly. Quincy Jones and Herbie Hancock are understandable. But if, like me, you wonder why we’re hearing so much from Randy Lennox, a pretty nondescript corporate media executive, stay through the credits: he’s one of the film’s producers. If you don’t already believe Oscar Peterson was a genius, I doubt he’ll be the one to convince you.Oscar Peterson: Black + WhiteNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 21 minutes. Watch on Hulu. More

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    Watching This Movie Taught Me It Was OK to Fail

    Gena Rowlands’s destabilizing brilliance in “Opening Night” turned out to be the reassurance I needed.One evening in May 2017, I saw the director John Cassavetes’s 1977 film, “Opening Night,” starring his wife and collaborator, Gena Rowlands, in the lead role. Rowlands plays Myrtle Gordon, a successful stage actor whose life is upended when she witnesses a young fan’s death in a traffic accident. It’s an intense film, with long stretches of mortification punctuated with grim humor, concluding in a scene of agonizing victory: So drunk she can barely stand, Myrtle arrives hours late to the first night of her new play, delivering a chaotic and heroic performance which unravels and reshapes the production. It’s a triumphantly unhappy happy ending, which I watched with a mixture of horror and glee.I was in grad school at Berkeley at the time, studying literature, subletting a room in a too-expensive apartment around the corner from Chez Panisse. I was not enjoying myself. Most days I’d walk down Shattuck Avenue to the library, where I’d borrow as many books as I could carry, then head back to my room and leave the books in tottering piles, unread. I spent many evenings drinking alone, occasionally half-watching a movie on my laptop. I dreamed of dropping out, but was terrified of failure. When this routine eventually became too desolate, I occupied myself in the evenings by watching whatever was on at the Pacific Film Archive, where I caught “Opening Night.”The genius of Rowlands’s performance style is in the way she melds the unapproachable beauty — sophistication, elegance, poise — of Hollywood’s Golden Age with a gift for physical humor. There are moments in her performances that approach slapstick: In one scene in “Love Streams,” from 1984, she tries to persuade a French baggage handler to help her with a preposterous pile of luggage; it could be something out of Jacques Tati. Elsewhere, she reproduces erratic gestures reminiscent of vaudeville, wildly jerking her thumb in the air and blowing raspberries at a passer-by in Cassavetes’s 1974 film, “A Woman Under the Influence.”What Rowlands offered me was an uncompromising acknowledgment of the fear and doubt at the heart of life — the confusion, the distress, the trepidation.But these moments aren’t quite played for laughs; they’re as painful as they are funny. Her gestures border on tics: expressive of something painful, buried, hard to confront. There are these looks she gives people, an irresistible combination of refinement and corniness, simultaneously ingratiating and imposing. There’s this way she has of telling people to “listen,” half-imperative, half-plea; a way that the skin around her eyes crinkles in a petition to be understood. She is adept at using physicality to undercut her humor with desperation, her characters buoyed by a willingness to withstand humiliation.Watching Rowlands’s performance in “Opening Night” showed me the necessity of embracing failure. That film is an exploration of the intense, sometimes mortifying personal commitment needed to create art. It dislodged something inside me and sharpened the smudged textures of my days. Rowlands’s character is thrown into personal and professional crisis by the prospect of becoming stuck — typecast in a particular kind of role — and of her life’s becoming constricted as a result. Watching her writhe against this tightening, I recognized myself: I realized that my graduate studies were primarily a way of rerouting my blocked desire to write. Again, I was afraid: incapable of writing because I was unwilling to risk rejection.A little over a month after that screening of “Opening Night,” my father died suddenly. I came back to England and, half-glad for the excuse, abandoned my Ph.D. But I didn’t know what to do instead, and hunkered down into my despair. Feeling the weight of the failure that I’d feared, I slid into a morass. In my grief I had to figure out how exactly I was going to live, and I felt wretched about my prospects. To distract myself, I began a project of writing about every movie I watched. Slowly, the words started to come, but I still struggled with a reluctance to look too closely at the difficult feelings that my grief had left me with.Five Movies to Watch This WinterCard 1 of 51. “The Power of the Dog”: More

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    ‘Somewhere With No Bridges’ Review: Of Men and Memories

    Charles Frank’s documentary about a Martha’s Vineyard man tries to turn a shadow into a portrait.In the compact documentary “Somewhere With No Bridges,” the director Charles Frank sets out to put a heartbeat to a memory. The movie’s ostensible subject, Richie Madeiras, was 44 in October 1999 when he fell from his boat. Days later, divers pulled his body from the water a few hundred yards off Martha’s Vineyard, where he had deep roots, made lifelong friends and worked as a shellfish constable helping to protect the island’s precious natural resources. A local paper said of Madeiras: “Friends and family say he was born to fish.”The genesis of this documentary was the enduring impact that Madeiras’s death had on friends and family, including on Frank’s father, Dale. Charles Frank was just about to turn 5 in October 1999. “My family likes to joke that before the age of 12, I don’t remember anything,” he says in voice-over soon after the movie begins. That isn’t true, he continues, as the camera holds on a handsomely framed aerial shot of lapping ocean waves. He remembers how his father reacted to the loss of his close friend.“He stepped out of his car and collapsed into my mother’s arms,” Charles says, as the waves keep coming and he methodically draws out the words, as if from the deep. “It was the first time I sensed that something was wrong, and it was the first time I saw him cry.”This childhood memory serves as a kind of creative statement of intent and an emotional through line for “Somewhere With No Bridges,” which seeks to explore Madeiras’s life and legacy through its many traces. This effort emerges piecemeal through a combination of archival imagery, original interviews and supplementary material, including a great many shimmering beauty shots of the island and its residents, though primarily men, on the water. Much like the photograph of Madeiras that Frank develops in an old-fashioned chemical bath, the documentary tries to turn a shadow into a portrait.That never satisfyingly happens, partly because Frank never figures out what story he’s trying to tell: his, his father’s or Madeiras’s. Richie appears to have been a vividly charismatic, memorable figure, one who, decades after his death, his friends and family easily conjure up with tears and sweet and rollicking reminiscences. He was strong, mischievous and could take on a couple of guys at a bar all by himself. He loved, and he was loved in turn. Yet even as Frank keeps questioning and exploring, Madeiras and the full sweep of his life remain as out of focus as this documentary, an essay without a coherent thesis.
    The title “Somewhere With No Bridges” refers to Martha’s Vineyard, which can only be reached via boat or plane. It’s a beguiling, resonant title that starts to seem considerably less romantic or helpful as the documentary evolves, intentionally or not, into a portrait of a cloistered community of men who fish, hunt, talk and talk some more, occasionally play ball and spend a lot of time on the water. There are women here, yes, but mostly what you are left with are men and their sorrow, notably that of Dale Frank, whose heart still breaks for Richie Madeira and whose filmmaker son, Charles, clearly yearns to understand why.Somewhere With No BridgesNot rated. Running time: 1 hour. Rent or buy on Amazon, Apple TV and other streaming platforms and pay TV operators. More

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    Ivan Reitman, Director of ‘Ghostbusters,’ Is Dead at 75

    The filmmaker injected giant marshmallow boogeymen and toga parties into popular culture with movies that included “National Lampoon’s Animal House,” “Stripes” and “Kindergarten Cop.”Ivan Reitman, a producer and director of a string of movies including “Ghostbusters” and “National Lampoon’s Animal House” that imprinted their antics on the funny bones of a generation of filmgoers, died on Saturday at his home in Montecito, Calif., The Associated Press reported. He was 75.His children, Jason Reitman, Catherine Reitman, and Caroline Reitman, confirmed the death in a statement to The A.P.During his decades-long career, with credits as recent as last year, Mr. Reitman produced and directed major box-office comedies that became iconic to the generations that grew up with them and contributed to the rise of actors like Bill Murray and Arnold Schwarzenegger, whom he cast in the unlikely role of a police officer masquerading as a kindergarten teacher in “Kindergarten Cop” (1990).He produced, with Matty Simmons, the 1978 movie “National Lampoon’s Animal House,” an hour-and-a-half-long depiction of Greek life’s chaotic energy and absurdity that has become one of the most beloved comedies in the history of the genre. The film injected the concept of the toga party into modern culture. After the staggering success of “Animal House,” he returned to directing, later telling The New York Times that he regretted not directing it.His 1984 film “Ghostbusters,” which he did direct, was nominated for two Oscars, despite lukewarm reviews from some critics, who complained of disjointed humor that heavily prioritized special effects.Viewers disagreed, enthralled and entertained by Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis, and Mr. Murray clad in heavily accessorized jumpsuits and the bizarre visuals that included a 100-foot-high marshmallow dressed in a sailor suit and a neon green ghost. Five years later, he directed a sequel, “Ghostbusters II,” and he helped produce another spinoff, “Ghostbusters: Afterlife,” that was directed by his son, Jason, and released last year.In a 2007 interview with the CBC, he recalled the first time he saw the stars of “Ghostbusters” in their outlandish ghostbusting outfits, rounding Madison Avenue for a pre-shoot. “There was just something so extraordinary about that image,” he said. “I turned to the script assistant next to me and said, ‘I think this movie’s gonna work.’”Ivan Reitman was born in Komarno, in what is now Slovakia, on Oct. 27, 1946, to Jewish parents who survived the Nazis. Four years later, his family fled Czechoslovakia to escape communism and eventually landed in Toronto.“We came here penniless,” he told the CBC in 2007 as he was about to get a star on Canada’s Walk of Fame. “I didn’t speak the language.”He began producing movies as a student at McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario.Working Off Broadway on “The National Lampoon Show,” he forged an early partnership with Mr. Ramis and with John Belushi and Mr. Murray before they became stars on “Saturday Night Live.”After “Animal House,” he directed “Meatballs” (1979), starring Mr. Murray as the head counselor at a chaotic summer camp, and “Stripes” (1981), in which Mr. Murray plays a rebellious Army recruit.Survivors include his children Jason, Catherine and Caroline.“Our family is grieving the unexpected loss of a husband, father, and grandfather who taught us to always seek the magic in life,” they told The A.P. “We take comfort that his work as a filmmaker brought laughter and happiness to countless others around the world. While we mourn privately, we hope those who knew him through his films will remember him always.” More

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    'Lunana,' a Movie From Bhutan, Is Nominated for an Academy Award

    “Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom” was filmed on a shoestring budget in a remote Himalayan village. It’s now an Academy Award nominee, a first for Bhutan.THIMPHU, Bhutan — As a crew of 35 people prepared to make a movie in Bhutan’s remote Lunana Valley, they faced a slew of seemingly insurmountable obstacles.The valley had no electricity. It could only be reached by walking eight days from the nearest village. And the schoolchildren who were expected to star in the film knew nothing about acting or cinema.“They did not even know what a camera was or what it looked like,” Namgay Dorji, the village schoolteacher, said in a telephone interview.On Tuesday, the movie, “Lunana: A Yak in the Classroom,” was nominated for an Academy Award — a first for Bhutan. Its director, Pawo Choyning Dorji, said he had been on an “improbable journey” ever since deciding to shoot the film, his first, in a Himalayan village about three miles above sea level.“It was so improbable that I thought I wouldn’t be able to finish,” said Mr. Dorji, 38, who is from a rural part of Bhutan that is east of Lunana.“Somehow we now find ourselves nominated for an Oscar,” he added. “When I found out, it was so unbelievable that I kept telling my friends: ‘What if I wake up tomorrow and I realize all this was a dream?’”The ‘dark valley’“Lunana,” which was released digitally on Friday, tells the story of a young teacher from Bhutan’s capital, Thimphu, who is assigned to work at a remote mountain school against his will. He dreams of quitting his government job, emigrating to Australia and pursuing a career as a singer.Yogesh Gurav, a boom operator, during the filming of “Lunana.” The crew sent their equipment into the mountain valley on mules.Pawo Choyning DorjiBut the teacher, Ugyen, is fascinated by the people he meets in Lunana — particularly 9-year-old Pem Zam, a radiant student with a difficult home life. As the months go by, he begins to take his job more seriously.Mr. Dorji, who wrote the script, said he made a teacher the protagonist after reading news reports about Bhutanese educators quitting their jobs. He saw that as a symbol of discontent in a poor, isolated country where globalization has caused profound social changes.Bhutan prides itself on measuring, and maximizing, the “gross national happiness” of its roughly 750,000 people. But Mr. Dorji said young Bhutanese increasingly believe that true happiness lies abroad, in places like Australia, Europe or New York City.He said he picked the Lunana Valley as the film’s setting because it presented a dramatic contrast with a “well-lit” foreign city. The area is isolated even by the standards of this remote Himalayan kingdom; in Dzongkha, the national language, lunana means “dark valley.”“My idea was: Can we discover in the shadows and darkness what we are so desperately seeking in the light?” Mr. Dorji, who divides his time among Bhutan, India and Taiwan, said in an interview from Taipei, Taiwan.Keeping it naturalTurning his vision into a movie was a giant undertaking. The Lunana Valley borders far western China, has glacial lakes and some of the world’s highest peaks, and cannot be reached by car. When health workers administered coronavirus vaccines there last year, they had to fly in by helicopter and walk from village to village through snow and ice.When Mr. Dorji’s film crew traveled to Lunana in the late summer of 2018, they transported their firewood, batteries, solar chargers and other essential gear on mules. They brought nonperishable rations, such as of dried pumpkin and mushrooms, because there was no refrigeration. And when they arrived, they had to build their own temporary housing.There was just enough solar power to shoot the movie on a single camera, but not enough for Mr. Dorji to review his footage each night after shooting, as most directors do. So he had to go by his instincts and hope for the best.His cast presented another challenge. The three main roles were played by nonprofessional actors from Thimphu. The others were all from Lunana — a place where families survive through subsistence agriculture and by harvesting a valuable alpine fungus — and had never even seen a movie.“The camera in front of them could have been a yak, for all they cared,” Mr. Dorji said.Pem Zam, left, and Sangay Lham in a scene from “Lunana.”Samuel Goldwyn PicturesMr. Dorji said he adapted to his characters’ lack of experience by tailoring the script to their lives, encouraging them to essentially play themselves. Pem Zam, for instance, goes by her real name in the movie.Mr. Dorji also shot scenes in the order in which they appear in the film, so that his actors could let their characters develop with the story. He also added scenes that he felt were poignant examples of real village life. One example: In a scene where Ugyen teaches his students how to use a toothbrush, they aren’t acting; they really didn’t know.The result is a film that successfully captures a sense of innocence, the Oscar-winning director Ang Lee told Mr. Dorji in a video call last month. He described “Lunana” as a “breath of fresh air.”“It’s a precious, precious, very simple but very touching movie,” Mr. Lee said. “Thank you for going through all that and sharing your country and culture with us.”An unlikely hit“Lunana” is Bhutan’s first Oscar entry since “The Cup,” a 1999 film that was written and directed by Mr. Dorji’s teacher Khyentse Norbu. That film, which chronicles the arrival of television in a monastery, was not shortlisted or nominated for an Academy Award.The Bhutanese government submitted “Lunana” for last year’s Oscars, but it was disqualified: The national film committee had gone so long without submitting a film for consideration that it was no longer officially recognized by the Academy.For the 2022 awards, the country formed a special selection committee. And in December, “Lunana” was among 15 shortlisted of 93 Academy Award submissions from around the world. On Tuesday, it was one of five films — alongside others from Japan, Denmark, Italy and Norway — nominated for an Oscar in the International Feature Film category.Karma Phuntsho, the selection committee’s chairman, said “Lunana” reflects the maturation of a domestic film industry that’s only about three decades old.“I have been encouraging my friends in the film industry to look beyond the small Bhutanese market and share our stories with the world,” he said. “Pawo has done that with a flair and it is a proud moment for all Bhutanese and friends of Bhutan.”Mr. Dorji with some of his cast. Kinley WangchukMr. Dorji said the film was made on a $300,000 budget — “peanuts when it comes to filmmaking” — and that he never expected to have much help publicizing it. Now it’s being distributed by Samuel Goldwyn Films and marketed by a public relations agency with offices in New York and Beverly Hills.News of the film’s success has trickled back to Lunana, according to Kaka, a 51-year-old village headman there who goes by one name. “The people back home are happy that their village has become known to the world,” he said by telephone.Namgay Dorji, 35, the real-life schoolteacher whose experience of living in the Lunana Valley for a decade inspired parts of the script, said the film’s international success had inspired him to stay in the area longer than he had once planned to.“When I was in front of the camera, I wasn’t that excited,” said Mr. Dorji, the schoolteacher, who appeared in the film as an extra. “But after watching it and listening to the children’s dialogue, I realized how much hardship our community has had to overcome.”Chencho Dema reported from Thimphu, Bhutan, and Mike Ives from Seoul. More