Movies

Subterms

    More stories

    • 125 Shares99 Views

      in Movies

      ‘Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy’ Review: What We Talk About

      by

      In three stories, men and women circle one another as they casually and cruelly share intimacies, express desires and voice doubts.The geometry of desire is elegantly plotted in “Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy,” a wistful, moving, outwardly unassuming movie. In three segments, men and women circle one another, talking and talking some more. As they exchange glances, confessions and accusations, their cascading words become either bridges or walls. Throughout these effusive roundelays, they yearn — for meaning, former lovers, lost intimacy, an escape.“Fortune and Fantasy” is among the latest talkathons from the Japanese director Ryusuke Hamaguchi, one of the more intriguing filmmakers to emerge in the last decade. If you haven’t heard of him, it isn’t surprising. The American market for foreign-language cinema has always been brutal, even before the pandemic, and his work has received scant theatrical distribution in the United States. But he’s a familiar name on the festival circuit, and both this movie and his superb “Drive My Car” were in the main slate at the recent New York Film Festival. (“Fortune” won a major prize at this year’s Berlin.)If Hamaguchi were another generic French filmmaker, or if he made gore-splattered genre movies or was just more obvious, he might attract greater distributor interest. Though maybe not: The length of some of his work likely presents a hurdle. While “Fortune and Fantasy” runs a crisp two hours, “Drive My Car” is three, and “Happy Hour,” an epic of minimalism, runs more than five. More challenging still, presumably, are his narrative choices and understated visuals, which don’t conform to the current template for American indie cinema with its dramatic problems, moral instruction and enough pictorial prettiness to make the emotional bloodletting go down smoothly.Hamaguchi’s realism is as constructed as that of any Sundance selection, but what distinguishes his work is his attention to ambiguity and to everyday moments, and his general avoidance of dramatic or melodramatic inflection. Things happen, terrible, heartbreaking things, though not necessarily onscreen. Instead, most of what you see has the flavor, rhythm and texture of quotidian life, which makes his artistic choices all the more intriguing and at times almost mysterious. You’re engrossed, but you may wonder why. (Hamaguchi cites John Cassavetes as a strong influence; the imprint of the French New Wave and the South Korean director Hong Sangsoo are also evident.)“Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy” is a perfect entry point into Hamaguchi’s work. Not every episode works equally well or hits as hard, but both times I watched this movie, I found something to admire, consider, argue with and weep over. The three stories are clearly separated with coy or cryptic or plainly descriptive titles. They have separate casts and each takes place in contemporary settings, though one has a modest, somewhat random splash of speculative fiction. Here, as in life, the most blandly familiar spaces — the back seat of a cab, a cluttered office, a living room — serve as unadorned stages for ordinary, existence-defining encounters.All the episodes feature a handful of men and women, but the secondary characters soon peel off — a photo crew disperses, an assistant hustles out of an office — leaving two people who serve as conversational and emotional foils. The middle and longest story (“Door Wide Open”) centers on a woman who’s persuaded, if not entirely convincingly, by her younger male lover to become a honey trap for his loathed former professor. She does, putting on makeup and visiting the professor at his office. Although he insists that the door remain open, danger seeps in anyway, through a probing, teasingly erotic and unexpectedly existential tête-à-tête that changes everyone’s life.Hamaguchi doesn’t move the camera all that much, which makes the moments when he draws attention to his visuals more noticeable, like the punctuating tilt up at a flowering tree that closes the first story. However subtly, he distinctly choreographs each episode, using the camera and staging to underscore eddies of harmony and dissonance, shifting moods and awareness. In some scenes, characters sit side by side in the same shot, which underscores their familiarity; in others, they are isolated in the frame to accentuate their detachment or antagonism. In several crucial instances, characters look directly at the camera, a jolt of intimacy — but now between you and them.Mostly, though, these men and women talk, revealing themselves as they also tease the story’s themes, fortune and fantasy included. They chat, confess, overshare, open up and lash out. In the first story, “Magic (or Something Less Assuring),” a young woman confronts a former boyfriend by sneeringly repeating some blandishments that he’d shared with another lover, wounding him and, in the process, exposing the miserable arc of their failed relationship. There’s more tenderness in the final story, “Once Again,” which beautifully brings the movie to a close through two women with faulty memories who, by opening their hearts to each other, quietly break yours.Wheel of Fortune and FantasyNot rated. In Japanese, with subtitles. Running time: 2 hours 1 minute. In theaters. More

    • 163 Shares199 Views

      in Movies

      ‘The Velvet Underground’ Review: And Me, I’m in a Rock ’n’ Roll Band

      by

      Todd Haynes’s documentary paints a jagged, revelatory portrait of the New York avant-garde scene of the 1960s.Sometime in the 1960s, John Cale, a classically trained Welsh violist with avant-garde leanings, met Lou Reed, a middle-class Jewish college dropout from Long Island who dreamed of being a rock star. Their creative partnership, encouraged by Andy Warhol and enhanced by the mercurial presence of the German model, actress and singer Nico, was the volatile bedrock of the Velvet Underground, a commercially marginal band that altered the course of popular music.The Velvet Underground story is hardly obscure, and in outline it might fit fairly neatly in the standard music-documentary template. Early struggle gives way to (relative) triumph, and then the whole thing blows up in a squall of battling egos, substance abuse and self-destructive behavior. In the aftermath life goes on, solo careers are pursued, and the survivors — fans as much as artists — look back with mellow affection on the wild and heady past, brought alive by excavated television footage.“The Velvet Underground” has some of those elements, but it’s directed by Todd Haynes, a protean filmmaker who never met a genre he couldn’t deconstruct. While not as radical as “I’m Not There,” his 2007 Bob Dylan anti-biopic, this movie is similarly committed to a skeptical, inventive reading of recent cultural history. It’s not content to tell the story in the usual way, and it finds revelation in what might have seemed familiar.Haynes doesn’t just want you to listen to the reminiscences of band members and their friends, lovers and collaborators, or to groove on vintage video of the band in action. He wants you to hear just how strange and new the Velvets sounded, to grasp, intuitively as well as analytically, where that sound came from. And also to see — to feel, to experience — the aesthetic ferment and sensory overload of mid-60s Manhattan.A lot of eloquent people are on hand to talk about what it was like. Cale and Maureen Tucker, the drummer, the two original Velvet Underground members who are still alive, share their memories, as do some of Reed’s old friends and surviving members of the Warhol circle.Their faces, shot in gentle, nostalgic, indirect light, share the screen with a rapid flow — a kinetic collage — of images. While those images sometimes document places, events and personalities — offering up Allen Ginsberg, Max’s Kansas City and a news clip about the downtown scene narrated by Barbara Walters — they serve more importantly to link the Velvets’ music to the experimental cinema of the time.From left, Paul Morrissey, Andy Warhol, Reed and Tucker in a split-screen frame from the film, which places the band in context of the aesthetic ferment of mid-60s Manhattan.Apple TV+Warhol was, along with everything else, a filmmaker, as was his associate Paul Morrissey. Haynes dedicates “The Velvet Underground” to the memory of Jonas Mekas, the great champion and gadfly of New York’s cinematic vanguard who died in 2019. In the film, Mekas marvels at the sheer abundance of artistic activity in the city in the early ’60s, and the constant blending and cross-pollination that was taking place. Traditional boundaries — between poetry and painting, high art and low, film and music, irony and earnestness — weren’t so much transgressed as shown to be irrelevant.It was a remarkable time, but not exactly a golden age. Haynes respects the art too much to idealize the artists, or to impose retrospective harmony on their dissonances. The overt cruelty and menace of the music — the droning and distortion behind lyrics about addiction, sadism and sexual exploitation — didn’t come from nowhere.The film critic Amy Taubin, who appeared in a Warhol film about “the most beautiful women in the world,” bluntly recalls that the Factory, Warhol’s headquarters, was a bad place for women, who were valued for their looks rather than their talents. An aspect of Warhol’s genius was a gift for using people, and often using them up. Reed, who died in 2013, is a posthumously beloved figure, but not many of his contemporaries would describe him as a nice person.And niceness was, in any case, antithetical to what the Velvet Underground was trying to do. “We hated that peace and love crap,” Tucker says. The artist Mary Woronov, who toured with the Velvets on the West Coast, elaborates on their hostility to the California counterculture: “We hated hippies.” Never a political band, it nonetheless articulated a powerful protest — against sentimentality, stupidity, false consciousness and positive thinking — that would sow the seeds of punk rock and later rebellions. Testimony to their influence is provided by the singer-songwriter Jonathan Richman, who estimates he saw them live 60 or 70 times when he was a teenager in Boston, and whose enthusiasm is undimmed more than half a century later.Drop a needle on any Velvet Underground record — or queue up a playlist, if that’s how you roll — and what you hear will sound new, frightening and full of possibility, even on the thousandth listen. “The Velvet Underground” will show you where that perpetual novelty came from, and connect the sonic dots with other, contemporaneous artistic eruptions. As a documentary, it’s wonderfully informative. It’s also a jagged and powerful work of art in its own right, one that turns archaeology into prophecy.The Velvet UndergroundRated R. “Heroin,” “Venus in Furs,” “Sister Ray” — you do the math. Running time: 1 hour 50 minutes. In theaters and on Apple TV+. More

    • 138 Shares189 Views

      in Movies

      The NY Cat and Dog Film Festivals Return After Pandemic Hiatus

      by

      After a pandemic-induced hiatus, these celebrations of human-animal bonds are screening in Manhattan and beyond.Two annual cinematic celebrations invariably attract impassioned ticket buyers, even though they lack car chases, explosions, alien invasions or Daniel Craig as a pouty James Bond.What they do have: whiskers, wildness and no small amount of wit.They’re the NY Cat Film Festival and the NY Dog Film Festival, which are returning to Manhattan after a pandemic-induced hiatus. The cat festival, screening at noon on Saturday — Global Cat Day — at the Village East by Angelika theater, comprises 21 short works that run for a total of around 90 minutes. The nearly two-hour dog festival, which arrives at the same theater on Oct. 24, features 20 short films. (Animal lovers outside New York can see the festivals, too: They will tour for several months, both nationwide and in Canada.)“I think it’s the highest-quality year, possibly, for both,” said Tracie Hotchner, an author and radio host in Vermont who founded the dog festival in 2015 and the cat edition two years later. In a telephone interview, she explained that in the early days of lockdown in 2020, “people couldn’t find toilet paper, but they were making beautiful movies.”Not surprisingly, the pandemic is featured in both festivals. In “Will You Be My Quarantine?,” a feline comedy, the actress and director Susku Ekim Kaya shows herself and her pet, Lady Leia, in split screen, engaged in typically obsessive lockdown activities like grooming, TV watching, cellphone scrolling and FaceTime calling. They lead harmonious parallel lives, whereas the feline protagonists of Jasmin Scuteri-Young’s “Quarantine Diary” and Asali Echols’s “House Cats” complain of their owners’ constant presence in human-supplied voice-overs.The dog festival’s subjects, on the other hand, never seem to long for social distancing. “You don’t believe in personal space,” Kyle Scoble says tenderly to Darla, his Labrador retriever-pointer mix, in “The Second Time I Got to Know My Dog,” a documentary that acts as a tribute to how Darla got him through 2020.But cats may have a reason for their apparently aloof attitudes. “If it’s an indoor cat, it’s enduring a perpetual state of lockdown,” Kim Best, a director from Durham, N.C., said in a phone conversation.That observation fuels Best’s “The Great Escape,” in which a cat named Monkey makes concerted attempts to exit the household, even consulting the digital assistant Alexa, which he bats around and meows at. In Best’s other festival entry, “Cat Capitalization,” her pet, Nube, turns to the internet to market his artistic talent, pretentiously thanking — in thought bubbles — mentors like the artists Mark Rothko and Vincent van Gogh. (Nube is missing a bit of one ear.)Best said she aimed for “a satire of not only capitalism but also of academia.”Such humor is very much a theme of the cat festival, in which films like Nevada Caldwell’s “Feline Noir” and Priscilla Dean’s “Catfight at the O’Kay Corral” parody old Hollywood clichés.But while the canine film slate is not without laughs — David Coole’s animated “Go Fetch” is a pointed two-minute revenge comedy — it has far more of the in-depth examinations of the human-animal bond that characterized both festivals previously.“Affection in the Streets,” for instance, a Brazilian documentary by Thiago Köche, captures the lives of Pôrto Alegre’s homeless, who often take better care of their dogs than themselves. The loyal pets also attract concern from passers-by, who frequently ignore the suffering of the animals’ owners.“People who love dogs just look right past the humans,” Hotchner said. “I would love more movies about that, because I think it’s the thing we don’t want to look at.”“The Comfort Dogs” also shows the power of pet ownership. Made by Matthew Salleh and Rose Tucker, an Australian couple who live and work together in Brooklyn, the film is an excerpt from their feature documentary “We Don’t Deserve Dogs.” The segment focuses on the Comfort Dog Project, which provides pets to young people who were forced to become child soldiers in Uganda’s civil war.With the dogs at their side, the former soldiers can share “quite harrowing” experiences, Salleh said in a joint phone call. “The dogs almost become part of the storytelling method itself.”Another documentary, Zach Putnam’s “Nicola,” illustrates how its subject, a yellow Lab from Canine Companions, a service program for people with disabilities, transformed not only the life of the college student who received her. She also delivered a strong lesson in trust and sacrifice to the student who devotedly trained her but ultimately, tearfully, had to give her up.Both festivals, however, remind viewers that these animals need people as much as people need them. Hotchner, who organizes the programs as a labor of love — tickets to each are $20 — always contributes part of each screening’s sales to a related local charity. The cat festival in New York will help support Bideawee’s Feral Cat Initiative, while this year, all dog festival showings will benefit the nonprofits associated with Saving Senior Dogs Week (Oct. 25-31).“There is a growing awareness,” Covid aside, “that senior dogs are delightful to adopt and the most quick to be put to sleep in a shelter,” Hotchner said. In Gary Tellalian’s “Legends of Comedy Share Love for Old Dogs,” you’ll hear this message in a public service announcement from celebrities who are seniors themselves: Carol Burnett, Bob Newhart and Lily Tomlin, along with Carl Reiner, who died last June at 98.The plight of dogs that aren’t cuddly puppies also surfaces in documentaries like “Not Broken: Freedom Ride,” by Krista Dillane, Emma Lao and Dylan Abad, about a long journey to transport 53 rescued dogs from Louisiana to a pet adoption fair in Rhode Island. In “Chino,” another excerpt from “We Don’t Deserve Dogs,” its aging subject, a street mutt in Santiago, Chile, survives simply because concerned residents provide care.“The street dog culture there is completely different,” Tucker said, adding that the animals are a way to “just bring an entire community together” — a goal for these festivals, too.NY Cat Film FestivalOct. 16 at the Village East by Angelika, Manhattan; catfilmfestival.com.NY Dog Film FestivalOct. 24 at the Village East by Angelika, Manhattan; dogfilmfestival.com. More

    • 150 Shares149 Views

      in Movies

      ‘Hard Luck Love Song’ Review: A Glossy Take on a Gritty Tune

      by

      Drawn from the plotline of a Todd Snider song, the film follows a pool shark and an escort, taking twists that are both violent and silly.Movies based on popular songs often bring specifics to the table to better capitalize on the hooks. For Bobbie Gentry’s “Ode to Billy Joe,” the 1976 movie adaptation took on a question the song doesn’t answer: Just what did Billy Joe and the narrator throw off the Tallahatchie Bridge? On the other hand, all the 1954 movie “White Christmas” required was its title Irving Berlin song, some more Irving Berlin songs and stars in Santa hats.“Hard Luck Love Song” is based on the Todd Snider tune “Just Like Old Times.” Snider’s no superstar, but he is a troubadour with a solid cult following and a good way with story songs. “Old Times” is a straightforward, ironically poignant narrative in which a pool hustler phones an escort service from his motel and is soon greeted by his onetime high school sweetheart.The movie, co-written and directed by Justin Corsbie and executive-produced by Snider, puts flesh — much of it movie-star-level attractive — on the song’s bones. Michael Dorman’s Jesse and Sophia Bush’s Carla are depicted partying with a vengeance, fueled by both alcohol and cocaine. Yet by the time they light out for a bar (mostly to put the plot into third gear), they both look as freshly scrubbed as a couple on the good side of a deodorant commercial.The song’s actual story line winds down about an hour and 10 minutes into the movie. After which “Hard Luck Love Song” falls further apart. The twists are violent and silly and have little relation to the gritty realities of Snider’s world. Corsbie has filmmaking energy to spare but also makes many undergrad errors, including a clunky needle drop of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion song “Bell Bottoms,” which was executed definitively in the opening scene of Edgar Wright’s 2017 “Baby Driver.”Hard Luck Love SongRated R for language and partying with a vengeance and cocaine. Running time: 1 hour 44 minutes. In theaters. More

    • 125 Shares149 Views

      in Movies

      ‘Needle in a Timestack’ Review: Put a Pin in It

      by

      The director John Ridley, who wrote “12 Years a Slave,” tries to combine time travel and romance, and comes up short twice.Who among us has never dreamed of turning back time and changing a decision or event, just like Cher and the Terminator? That possibility is a reality in John Ridley’s sluggish, blandly slick time-travel romance, “Needle in a Timestack.”Nick (Leslie Odom Jr.) is a fancy architect and his wife, Janine (Cynthia Erivo), is a fancy photographer. We know they are soul mates because they constantly talk about their great love, maybe to make up for the fact that they have no real personalities.One day, Nick realizes there has been a so-called time shift — a slight realignment of reality after someone traveled back in time to change the past — thus modifying the present. Further, more consequential alterations in the timeline keep happening, until we end up in a reality where Janine is married to Tommy (Orlando Bloom), their old friend. Nick realizes that Tommy has been fiddling with the past to finally land the woman he wanted.The most fascinating idea in “Needle in a Timestack” is that “time jaunting” is a mundane activity, up to a point: It is so expensive that only wealthy people like Tommy can afford it on a regular basis. But Ridley (the writer of “12 Years a Slave”) decides to stick to the shiny surfaces of aspirational lives, and keeps layering on banalities like “Love is drawn in the form of a circle” and “Have we really thought through the cause and effect of our choices?” That needle was clearly used to stitch slogans on pillows.Needle in a TimestackRated R for language. Running time: 1 hour 51 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on Apple TV, Google Play and other streaming platforms and pay TV operators. More

    • 88 Shares159 Views

      in Movies

      ‘All About My Sisters’ Review: Family Matters

      by

      Wang Qiong’s debut feature traces the tragic effects of China’s one-child policy on her family.Often in “All About My Sisters,” the Chinese filmmaker Wang Qiong’s documentary portrait of her family, you might forget that what you’re watching is filtered through a camera. Over a period of seven years, Wang filmed her parents, siblings and relatives from within the emotional thicket of their lives, capturing moments of piercing, private intimacy. Her approach yields a film bristling with the kind of familial rancor that usually only emerges behind closed doors.There’s plenty to warrant this bitterness, starting with the fact that Wang’s younger sister, Zhou Jin, was abandoned as a newborn before being retrieved and then given to an uncle to raise. That was in the 1990s, when the combination of China’s one-child policy and a widespread cultural preference for sons had tragic consequences. As we learn over the course of the film’s epic (yet impressively brisk-moving) three-hour arc, Jin’s is one of the many stories of abandoned babies, sex-selective abortions and female infanticide that haunt Wang’s family history.Wang is neither a staid observer nor a formal interviewer, but an active participant in the scenes she captures, often intervening gently from behind her hand-held camera. “Have you ever thought that induced abortion is horrible to baby girls?” she asks her older sister, Wang Li, whose husband is desperate for a male heir. Li’s response is simple but profound: “The world is horrible to us, too. Every move is a risk.”At times, Wang’s candor can be unsettling: I wondered about the ethics of her unflattering portrayal of Jin, who is seen being cruel to her toddler, as if re-enacting her own traumas. In such moments, “All About My Sisters” teeters discomfitingly between the personal and the political, revealing how little separates the two.All About My SistersNot rated. In Mandarin, with subtitles. Running time: 2 hours 54 minutes. In theaters. More

    • 138 Shares199 Views

      in Movies

      ‘Noroît’ Review: In a French Vision, Pirates Inhabit a Jacobean Drama

      by

      When this unusual film, made in 1976 by the French director Jacques Rivette, opens in New York this week, it will be making its official debut here.After his masterworks of the early 1970s, “Out 1” and “Celine and Julie Go Boating,” the French filmmaker Jacques Rivette conceived one of his typically ambitious projects: a four-film cycle called “Scenes From a Parallel Life.” Like “Celine and Julie,” and so many Rivette films to follow, these pictures would center on female characters and offer alternate realities by (among other things) playing with genres ancient and modern. Two of the planned four were completed in 1976, both of which are being revived this week.The first, “Duelle,” proposes a kind of private mythology spotlighting the “Out: 1” stars Juliette Berto and Bulle Ogier. “Noroît” is a postmodern pirate picture, inspired by the Jacobean drama “The Revenger’s Tragedy.”The antagonists here are Geraldine Chaplin and Bernadette Lafont. Chaplin’s brother has died at the hands of buccaneers led by Lafont. Various intrigues are undertaken to get Chaplin close enough to Lafont to kill her.Gender-swapping of the central roles notwithstanding, In some respects this is a faithful adaptation. Onscreen titles provide act and scene numbers. Chaplin and her other co-star, Kika Markham, frequently declaim portions of the play’s text in its original English language.But “Noroît” takes a more meandering path than Jacobean drama in general, pondering, as Rivette’s films tend to, notions of life as performance and vice versa. When major plot events occur, the camera seems almost indifferent to them, inexorably and meticulously moving on.The movie is best appreciated as a record of formidable female performers vibing with and against each other. At least until its last 40 minutes or so, when it reels into delirium. Various elemental effects (monochrome tints, lens-aperture lighting effects, audio dropouts) drive home its sense of unreality. The movie’s intellectual provocations — mostly pertaining to the elasticity of cinematic form — remain as lively as they were many decades ago.Noroît Not rated. Running time: 2 hour 25 minutes. In French with English subtitles More

    • 88 Shares99 Views

      in Movies

      ‘Held for Ransom’ Review: Negotiating With Terrorists

      by

      This thoughtful hostage drama from Denmark depicts the events surrounding the capturing of Daniel Rye, a photojournalist, by ISIS in 2013.Like most films about contending with Islamic terrorists, there’s an ickiness to entertainment value derived from pitting white Westerners against big bad Muslims. Should you be willing to overlook certain intrinsic difficulties, “Held for Ransom” is a surprisingly thoughtful hostage drama given the blunt meatheadedness of its title.Based on the 2013 kidnapping of the Danish photographer Daniel Rye, who was held hostage by the Islamic State for 398 days, the film takes a holistic approach, drawing its beats from “The ISIS Hostage,” the book by Puk Damsgaard Andersen that first mapped out the journey to Rye’s release.A zippy opening shows the twist of fate that turned Daniel (Esben Smed), a gymnast, onto photojournalism, prompting a trip to Syria that soon goes awry. Rye’s is an inherently remarkable story involving a brief escape, brutalization at the hands of unbending torturers, and even bittersweet friendships with his fellow detainees — one of whom was James Foley (Toby Kebbell), an American whose beheading was captured on video in 2014.The filmmakers Niels Arden Oplev (Sweden’s “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo”) and Anders W. Berthelsen unfold these events with tense ambiguity. Back home in Denmark, Daniel’s family wrestles with a very different kind of beast when they are forced to crowdfund 2 million euros on his behalf despite no real assurance that the people holding him hostage will hold up their end of the bargain. At the same time, a rugged hostage negotiator (Berthelsen) shuffles between the two countries, providing Daniel’s family with slivers of hope.Most intriguing is the film’s take on the prickly subject of “negotiating with terrorists” when Daniel’s family is denied assistance from the Danish government, which maintains a zero-tolerance policy. The tension of human toll versus ideological principle is conveyed with pathos and acuity. When Daniel finally crosses the border to his freedom, however, the camera jitters with the weight of his trauma — communicating this experience is ultimately the film’s greatest concern.Held for RansomNot rated. In Danish and English, with subtitles. Running time: 2 hours 18 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on Apple TV, Vudu and other streaming platforms and pay TV operators. More