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    ‘Martha: A Picture Story’ Review: Snapshots of a Career

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘Martha: A Picture Story’ Review: Snapshots of a CareerThis documentary recounts the work of Martha Cooper, a photographer instrumental in establishing the validity of street art.The photographer Martha Cooper.Credit…Janette Beckman/UtopiaMarch 16, 2021, 7:00 a.m. ETMartha: A Picture StoryDirected by Selina MilesDocumentary, Biography1h 22mFind TicketsWhen you purchase a ticket for an independently reviewed film through our site, we earn an affiliate commission.“Martha: A Picture Story” turns the camera around on Martha Cooper, a photographer who captured the era when graffiti-covered subway cars crisscrossed New York, and who was among the first to give serious consideration to the artists who scrawled on those trains. The book “Subway Art,” Cooper’s 1984 collaboration with the photographer Henry Chalfant, developed an international underground following, providing a stylistic template — Cooper’s word — for aspiring graffiti writers.In this documentary, directed by Selina Miles, Cooper and her associates take us through her career, from a stint in the Peace Corps in Thailand to her work snapping street scenes for The New York Post. Now in her 70s, Cooper is still working, and Miles trails her as she seeks to document a neighborhood in southwest Baltimore, her hometown. (In the sort of interplay between subject and film crew that “Martha: A Picture Story” could have used more of, Cooper at one point asks that the movie camera be turned off — she needs to gain her subjects’ trust first.)[embedded content]Cooper is unafraid of risks. Near the beginning and end, we watch her accompany street artists in Germany on furtive missions. There is poignancy in seeing her reminisce with Jay Edlin (known as J.SON), a graffiti artist and historian, at a cleaned-up subway station in the Bronx.The film does a fair job of explaining Cooper’s temperament. (An editor who tried to assign her to photograph pollen for National Geographic found that wasn’t a great fit.) Ultimately, though, the photos are the thing. A conventional biographical portrait almost feels redundant. Cooper has already documented her own life story.Martha: A Picture StoryNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 22 minutes. Rent or buy on Amazon, Apple TV and other streaming platforms and pay TV operators.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    ‘Allen v. Farrow’ Episode 4 Recap: An Adult Dylan Farrow Speaks Out

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘Allen v. Farrow’ Episode 4 Recap: An Adult Dylan Farrow Speaks OutThe finale of the HBO docuseries delves into the changing perception of Woody Allen and Ms. Farrow’s decision to go public with her allegations of sexual abuse.Frank Maco, the former Connecticut state’s attorney who decided not to press charges in an investigation, with Dylan Farrow, in “Allen v. Farrow.”Credit…HBOMarch 14, 2021The final installment of “Allen v. Farrow,” an HBO documentary series examining Dylan Farrow’s sexual abuse allegations against her adopted father, Woody Allen, covers the years from 1993, when a state’s attorney declined to prosecute the filmmaker, to the present.The previous three episodes explored what Ms. Farrow says happened on Aug. 4, 1992, when she was 7 years old — that her father sexually assaulted her in the attic of the family’s Connecticut country home. The filmmakers combed through police and court documents, scrutinized the integrity of the investigations into her accusation and sought expert analysis of video footage of young Dylan telling her mother what happened.Mr. Allen has long denied sexually abusing his daughter and has accused her mother, Mia Farrow — Mr. Allen’s ex-girlfriend — of concocting the sexual-assault accusation because she was angry at him for having a sexual relationship with her college-age daughter, Soon-Yi Previn. (Mr. Allen and Ms. Previn later married.) A spokesperson for Mr. Allen, who did not participate in the documentary, said that it is “riddled with falsehoods.”The finale covers the world’s reaction to the events of the early 1990s, Mr. Allen’s continued fame and accolades and, in recent years, a growing unwillingness among those in Hollywood to be associated with him after the #MeToo Movement.The prosecutor’s decisionThe episode begins on Sept. 24, 1993. That day, Frank Maco, a Connecticut state’s attorney, announced that although he had “probable cause” to prosecute Mr. Allen, he had decided he would not press charges to spare Ms. Farrow the potential trauma of a trial.Mr. Maco, who was interviewed extensively for the documentary, says that earlier that month in 1993, he had met with young Dylan in his office, with toys in the room and a female state trooper there. When Mr. Maco asked about her father, he said, she froze up and would not respond.“The strongest proponents for prosecution just looked at me, and we all shrugged our shoulders,” Mr. Maco said. “We weren’t going anywhere with this child.”In a news conference, Mr. Allen said that rather that being happy or grateful for the decision, he said he was “merely disgusted” that his children had been “made to suffer unbearably by the unwholesome alliance between a vindictive mother and a cowardly, dishonest, irresponsible state’s attorney and his police.”“I felt if I had just kept his secret,” Ms. Farrow says, “I could have spared my mom all this grief, and my brothers and sister — myself.”Credit…HBODylan grows upIn the years after the police investigation and the custody trial, which ended in her mother’s favor, Ms. Farrow says she suffered through a long period of guilt, thinking that she was at fault for the family rift.“I felt if I had just kept his secret,” she tells the filmmakers, “I could have spared my mom all this grief, and my brothers and sister — myself.”Siblings say in the series that Ms. Farrow often kept to herself and seemed riddled with anxiety. She says that she didn’t talk about the assault in depth with anyone — not even her mother or her therapist. In high school, she recalls, she broke up with her only boyfriend after only three weeks because she anticipated that he would want to be intimate with her.Ronan Farrow, Ms. Farrow’s brother, tells the filmmakers that his mother tried to distance her children from Mr. Allen. But, he says, “there was always a lot of incentive to be drawn into Woody Allen’s efforts to discredit” his sister. For example, Mr. Farrow says, Mr. Allen had made him an offer that if he spoke out against his mother and his sister publicly, Mr. Allen would help pay for his college education.After an awards showThe saga returned to the public discourse in 2014, after Mr. Allen received a lifetime achievement award at the Golden Globes. In the past, Mr. Farrow tells filmmakers, he had discouraged his sister from speaking publicly about their father and the events of the 1990s with the hope that the family could put it behind them.But after the awards show, Mr. Farrow tweeted, “Missed the Woody Allen tribute — did they put the part where a woman publicly confirmed he molested her at age 7 before or after Annie Hall?” Ms. Farrow says that her brother’s willingness to speak publicly about the subject emboldened her to write about her memory of events, which were appeared in The New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof’s blog. (Mr. Farrow, who helped his sister publish the open letter, said that after another newspaper declined to print the account, he took it to Mr. Kristof, a family friend.) Mr. Allen later published an Op-Ed in The Times denying his daughter’s allegations.For two decades, Ms. Farrow says, she felt isolated and alone because of her experience. After publishing her letter, she received an outpouring of messages from people she knew sharing their own experiences with sexual abuse.Loyalty to Mr. AllenStill, many Hollywood actors remained loyal to Mr. Allen despite the accusations, and his star power and industry reputation remained mostly intact..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-rqynmc{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:0.9375rem;line-height:1.25rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-rqynmc{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-rqynmc strong{font-weight:600;}.css-rqynmc em{font-style:italic;}.css-yoay6m{margin:0 auto 5px;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-yoay6m{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1dg6kl4{margin-top:5px;margin-bottom:15px;}#masthead-bar-one{display:none;}#masthead-bar-one{display:none;}.css-1pd7fgo{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1pd7fgo{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-1pd7fgo:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1pd7fgo{border:none;padding:20px 0 0;border-top:1px solid #121212;}.css-1pd7fgo[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-1pd7fgo[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-1pd7fgo[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-1pd7fgo[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-coqf44{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-coqf44 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-coqf44 em{font-style:italic;}.css-coqf44 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#ccd9e3;text-decoration-color:#ccd9e3;}.css-coqf44 a:visited{color:#333;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#333;text-decoration-color:#333;}.css-coqf44 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}Understand the Allegations Against Woody AllenNearly 30 years ago, Woody Allen was accused of sexually abusing Dylan Farrow, his adopted daughter. A new docuseries re-examines the case.This timeline reviews the major events in the complicated history of the director, his children and the Farrow family.The documentary filmmakers Kirby Dick and Amy Ziering spoke about delving into this thorny family tale. Read our recaps of episode 1, episode 2, episode 3 and episode 4.Dylan Farrow wrote an open letter in 2014, posted by the New York Times opinion columnist Nicholas Kristof, recounting her story in detail.Our book critic reviewed Mr. Allen’s recent memoir, “Apropos of Nothing.”A.O. Scott, co-chief film critic, grappled with the accusations and his complicated feelings on the filmmaker in 2018. Four days after Ms. Farrow’s letter was published, her brother Moses Farrow told People Magazine that she was never molested. He also said that Mia Farrow coached the children to hate Mr. Allen and that she often hit him as a child. When Dylan Farrow learned what her brother said, she burst into tears, saying, “It was like I had been told that this person that I knew and loved and trusted was gone.”In interviews with the filmmakers, Ronan Farrow along with two more siblings, Fletcher Previn and Daisy Previn, say that the abuse allegations against their mother were untrue.In 2018, Moses Farrow followed up with a blog post that continued to dispute his sister’s account of sexual abuse. He targeted a specific detail of her story, which she had included in The Times letter: that while Mr. Allen sexually assaulted her, she remembers focusing on her brother’s electric train set, which had been traveling in circles around the attic. Mr. Farrow said that there was no electric train set in the attic. In Mr. Allen’s recent memoir, “Apropos of Nothing,” he also disputed that detail, calling it a “fresh creative touch.”But, according to police documents, the detectives investigating the alleged assault did find a train set in the attic. A detailed drawing from 1992, which is shown in the episode, includes an object labeled “toy train track” in the attic crawl space.Ms. Farrow with her mother, Mia Farrow.Credit…HBODylan, decades laterThis episode captures Ms. Farrow’s adult life, 28 years after she says her father assaulted her. It shows her husband, Sean, whom she met on a dating site linked to The Onion, and Ms. Farrow, now 35, playing with their young daughter.At one point, Mia Farrow asks her daughter, “Do you ever feel angry at me?” referring to her choice to bring Mr. Allen into the family. In response, Dylan Farrow says that, first and foremost, she was glad that her mother believed her account of that day in 1992, saying, “You were there when it mattered.”Another scene in the episode shows Mr. Maco, the state’s attorney, meeting with Ms. Farrow — their first encounter since 1993.Mr. Maco said that he told Mia Farrow that when her daughter becomes an adult, he would be happy to answer any questions. That opportunity came last fall — and the documentary team recorded their conversation.“A part of me really, really wishes that I could have done it,” Dylan Farrow tells Mr. Maco, “that I could have had my day in court.”AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Leon Gast, Director of ‘When We Were Kings,’ Dies at 84

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyLeon Gast, Director of ‘When We Were Kings,’ Dies at 84He spent 22 years making an Oscar-winning movie about the 1974 Ali-Foreman boxing match, considered one of the greatest sporting events of all time.Leon Gast at his home in Manhattan in 1997. His film about the heavyweight fight billed as “the Rumble in the Jungle” won the Academy Award that year for best documentary feature. Credit…Librado Romero/The New York TimesMarch 12, 2021Updated 7:38 p.m. ETLeon Gast, a filmmaker whose 22-year quest to make “When We Were Kings,” a documentary about Muhammad Ali and George Foreman’s epic 1974 boxing match, involved a Liberian shell company, the Hells Angels, a drug deal gone bad, the singer Wyclef Jean and ultimately an Academy Award, died on Monday at his home in Woodstock, N.Y. He was 84.His wife, Geri Spolan-Gast, said the cause was complications of Alzheimer’s disease.Mr. Gast was a young filmmaker who had already directed one major documentary, about New York’s Latin music scene, when he learned in 1974 of a plan by the boxing promoter Don King to stage a combination music festival and boxing match in Kinshasa, the capital of Zaire (today the Democratic Republic of Congo).A company in London had agreed to pay for the dozens of performers at the festival, including James Brown, Miriam Makeba and B.B. King, while Mobutu Sese Seko, the president of Zaire, put up $10 million to split between the boxers in the fight’s main event, Foreman and Ali.Mr. Gast, who had boxed in high school, lugged his projector to Mr. King’s offices in Rockefeller Center, where he lobbied for the job of making a film about the music festival, with clips of the fight interspersed. Mr. King wanted a Black director, but he liked Mr. Gast’s work, and he hired Mr. Gast after he agreed to hire Black crew members.Muhammad Ali sending George Foreman to the canvas during their historic 1974 championship fight. Mr. Gast bet his friend the writer Hunter S. Thompson that Ali, the underdog, would win. He won the bet. Credit…Red/Associated PressThe fight, billed as the “Rumble in the Jungle,” was to take place on Sept. 25, 1974, preceded by the three-day music festival. But on Sept. 17, Foreman cut his forehead while sparring; he needed 11 stitches, and the fight was pushed back six weeks.Many of the boxing fans and reporters who had traveled to Zaire left, but Mr. Gast decided to stick around. He had a sense of the drama unfolding: Ali was 32 years old, considered over the hill for a boxer and certainly no match for Foreman, 25, the reigning heavyweight champion of the world, whose 40-0 record included 37 knockouts.“The time may have come to say goodbye to Muhammad Ali,” one of his admirers, the sportscaster Howard Cosell, said on television, “because very honestly I do not think he can beat George Foreman.”But Ali was unfazed. While Foreman — who at the time was reserved to the point of surliness — refused to be interviewed, Ali opened up to Mr. Gast, who over the next several weeks recorded hours and hours of the former heavyweight champion exercising, sparring, meeting locals and indulging in his famed verbal virtuosity.“If you thought the world was surprised when Nixon resigned, wait until I kick Foreman’s behind,” Ali said at one point; another time, he said: “Only last week, I murdered a rock. Injured a stone. Hospitalized a brick. I’m so mean, I make medicine sick!”He even suggested when and how Mr. Gast’s crew should film him.“One day Muhammad told us: ‘In the morning when I run, I come around that corner with the sun and the river behind me,’” Mr. Gast told The New York Times in 1997. “‘Put your camera over there. It’ll be a great shot.’ He was right. It was a great shot.”Foreman was favored to win by 4-to-1 odds, but Mr. Gast had faith in his newfound friend. He bet the writer Hunter S. Thompson $100, at 3 to 1, that Ali would prevail.The fight finally took place on Oct. 30 — at 4 a.m., to accommodate audiences watching it in theaters in the United States — under a giant poster of Mr. Sese Seko. Ali had bragged for weeks about how he was going to “dance” around the ring to avoid Foreman’s powerful fists. But instead he leaned back against the ropes, absorbing blows until Foreman wore out, after which Ali delivered a knockout punch. Ali called it his “rope-a-dope” strategy, and it stunned the estimated one billion people watching around the world.Back in New York to assemble the film, Mr. Gast immediately ran into problems. Ticket sales from the music festival were supposed to have paid his production costs, but after the fight was delayed, Mr. Sese Seko had declared it free as a way to drum up attendance.Ali was the undisputed star of the Gast film, playing to the camera and showing off his verbal virtuosity. “I’m so mean,” he said, “I make medicine sick!”Credit…Anthology Film ArchivesMr. Gast couldn’t even get ahold of the 300,000 feet of footage he had shot. The London-based company that Mr. King said would bankroll the project turned out to be a cover for a shell company based in the Cayman Islands and owned by Stephen Tolbert, the Liberian minister of finance. Mr. Gast flew to Liberia to arrange for more money, but before they could make a deal, Mr. Tolbert died in a plane crash.Mr. Gast’s lawyer, David Sonenberg, sued in a British court, and after a year Mr. Gast had his film, plus hours and hours of audio, piled up in the bedrooms and hallways of his apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan.What he did not have was money, and so he took on a series of side projects. At one point the Hells Angels hired him to make a film that would counter their reputation as violent criminals — though they undercut their own case when several of them beat up Mr. Gast (without seriously injuring him) for refusing to give them editorial control. (The film, “Hells Angels Forever,” was widely panned.)Not all of Mr. Gast’s moneymaking efforts were film-related, or legal. One night in June 1979 he and at least four other men were waiting by an airport near Charleston, W.Va., for a plane carrying some 10 tons of marijuana, which they were smuggling from Colombia. But the aircraft crashed on landing, spilling its contents down a hillside. Mr. Gast was arrested, pleaded guilty and received a $10,000 fine and five years’ probation.In 1989, after years of struggling, Mr. Gast reconnected with Mr. Sonenberg, who had since become a successful music manager. Mr. Gast persuaded him to underwrite the rest of the production process, and even to let him use a room in his Manhattan townhouse as a studio.Mr. Gast was still intent on centering the film on the festival. But one day one of Mr. Sonenberg’s clients, the hip-hop star Wyclef Jean, was in the studio when Mr. Gast was editing a clip of Ali. Mr. Jean was enraptured, and asked to see more and more of the footage. Mr. Sonenberg and Mr. Gast decided to re-edit the film, this time focusing on the fighters, with the music festival as the background. They brought in the director Taylor Hackford, who helped edit the film and conducted interviews with Spike Lee, George Plimpton and Norman Mailer (the last two had covered the fight as reporters).Mr. Sonenberg suggested calling the film “When We Were Kings” as a nostalgic reference to the musical and sports royalty who gathered for the event. He even got Mr. Jean and his group, the Fugees, to provide music.In 1996, Mr. Gast and Mr. Sonenberg took it to the Sundance Film Festival, where they received a special jury citation and 17 distribution offers. Critics praised the film, which nearly swept the awards for documentary films that season — including, in early 1997, the Academy Award for best documentary feature.At the Oscar ceremony, Ali, who by then had developed Parkinson’s disease, rose from his seat to join Mr. Gast and Mr. Sonenberg in accepting the award. Foreman, his former nemesis, came up behind him. When Ali had trouble mounting the stage, Foreman took his arm and helped him up.Mr. Gast, right, in March 1997 after winning the Oscar for best documentary feature. With him was the executive producer, David Sonenberg, along with Ali and Foreman.Credit…Sam Mircovich/ReutersLeon Jacques Gast was born in Jersey City, N.J., on March 30, 1936. His father, Samuel Gast, worked in real estate; his mother, Madeleine (Baumann) Gast, was a homemaker.Leon played basketball at Seton Hall University and then transferred to Columbia, where he studied film and photography but left without a degree.He found a job at an advertising agency as a still photographer, and his work appeared in Vogue and Esquire. When his company opened a film division, he transferred to making commercials — his first was for Preparation H.Mr. Gast moved away from advertising in the late 1960s as he began to get work in the music industry, designing album covers and making short films. In 1972 he directed “Our Latin Thing,” a cinéma vérité profile of performers like Willie Colón, Jose Feliciano and Johnny Pacheco. Five years later he released “The Grateful Dead Movie,” a concert film co-directed with the band’s lead guitarist, Jerry Garcia.In 1991 Mr. Gast married Geri Spolan, who survives him, along with two sons from a previous marriage, Daniel and Clifford; a stepdaughter, Sara Marricco; and six grandchildren.After “When We Were Kings,” he made two more major documentaries: “Smash His Camera” (2010), about the celebrity photographer Ron Galella, and “Manny” (2015), about the boxer Manny Pacquiao, which Mr. Gast directed with Ryan Moore.Mr. Gast and his wife moved to Woodstock in 2005 and became involved in the Woodstock Film Festival. In 2018 he presented a cut of his latest project, a film about the history of the town.Despite his nearly 60 years in film, Mr. Gast’s career, and most likely his legacy, remains bound to the loquacious boxer he followed around Zaire in 1974 — a fact that he did not seem to regret.“When I started on it, my kids were in grade school,” he told Newsday in 1997. “I’m a grandfather now. I’m 60, and I’ve spent more than a third of my life working on this. I can’t even remember when I wasn’t thinking about it, when I wasn’t thinking about Ali.”Jack Begg contributed research.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    ‘Own the Room’ Review: Chasing Their Entrepreneurial Dreams

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘Own the Room’ Review: Chasing Their Entrepreneurial DreamsIn this documentary on Disney+, young students compete for $100,000, pitching their ideas, and themselves.Daniela Blanco is one of the young subjects of the documentary “Own the Room.”Credit…Work Film/National GeographicMarch 12, 2021, 7:15 a.m. ETOwn the RoomDirected by Cristina Costantini, Darren FosterDocumentary1h 31mFind TicketsWhen you purchase a ticket for an independently reviewed film through our site, we earn an affiliate commission.Entrepreneurship is a gamble, so it seems noteworthy that the Global Student Entrepreneur Awards, with a $100,000 prize for the best pitch, takes place in casino-heavy Macau, off the coast of Hong Kong. But the five young subjects of this documentary, “Own the Room” (streaming on Disney+), are gambling on us as much as we are on them.Tucked like a pair of aces into a solid but unremarkable hand of poker is a story arc that not only heightens the dramatic tension, but also clarifies the film’s more compelling ideas, skillfully tying the stories of the documentary’s subjects to their political subtext.Directed by Cristina Costantini and Darren Foster, “Own the Room” is an all-around competent documentary, profiling its five students and tracking their journey to the entrepreneur semifinals. But beyond their projects, the subjects pitch themselves to the viewer in ways that feel especially vigorous. One subject’s pursuits embody an American dream, while another’s motivation the failure of the dream.[embedded content]Although there’s little new about the format in which these stories are told, the details of the young people’s backgrounds, and the geopolitical complexities they embody, never fail to fascinate. Daniela Blanco has seen war’s destruction of her homeland of Venezuela, and has found a home in New York for her work using solar-powered electrochemical and thermonuclear reactions that help create synthetic materials like nylon. Alondra Toledo’s family bakery fed thousands of people in Puerto Rico in the aftermath of Hurricane Maria, and the desperate need for medical assistance during that catastrophe informed Toledo’s goal of improving communication between deaf patients and their doctors who don’t use sign language.While these specifics are engrossing, they feel disconnected from a more fleshed-out, and critical, whole. Though Blanco’s feelings about Venezuela and the difference in the economic structure in her country of origin and her home in New York might influence her approach to her vocation, “Own the Room” stops short of asking more challenging questions about how money and opportunity alter the students’ philosophies. With a wider lens, the documentary might question whether or not owning the room is within reach, or if the house always wins.Own the RoomNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. Watch on Disney+.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    ‘Long Live Rock … Celebrate the Chaos’ Review: An Ode to Metal

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘Long Live Rock … Celebrate the Chaos’ Review: An Ode to MetalWith this documentary, a longtime music supervisor, Jonathan McHugh, shines a spotlight on die-hard American rock fans.A crowdsurfing fan at a concert featured in “Long Live Rock … Celebrate the Chaos.”Credit…Jordan Wrennert/AbramoramaMarch 11, 2021, 7:00 a.m. ETAside from the sheer nostalgia of seeing large concert crowds thrashing with abandon (and without masks), the rock ‘n’ roll documentary “Long Live Rock … Celebrate the Chaos,” directed by a longtime music supervisor, Jonathan McHugh, lands on a minor note. Largely consisting of talking heads — from fans and noteworthy talent (Rob Zombie, Jonathan Davis, Ice-T) — the film aims to celebrate the uniqueness of the rock and metal communities, but ends up becoming a repetitive sound clip. Subjects claim that this fandom is different from others, but fail to articulate how. Instead, the sorest thumb that sticks out is the concentration of white fans in the scene.[embedded content]The whiteness of the hard rock world is felt immediately in this film. It’s especially discomfiting to watch an interviewee compare moshing to a “tribal war dance.” McHugh later covers his bases with a quick detour into the Black roots of rock, but the history lesson is too brief and basic. Likewise, its foray into feminism remains surface-level, probing not much beyond crowd-surfing as an act of empowerment.In its latter half, the gears switch again to address drug addiction and the downfalls of the hard rock lifestyle, but the tonal shift from unadulterated adoration makes this transition jarring. “Long Live Rock” feels, at best, like a passionate but elementary essay. More often than not, it feels like a table of contents. The hot-topic buttons are touched upon, but McHugh doesn’t forge far enough into the mosh pit.Long Live Rock … Celebrate the ChaosNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 23 minutes. Watch through virtual cinemas.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    ‘Still Life in Lodz’ Review: A Painting Becomes a Window

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘Still Life in Lodz’ Review: A Painting Becomes a WindowThis documentary examines how objects can create through lines across history.A painting that hung for decades in an apartment is one of the subjects of the documentary “Still Life in Lodz.”Credit…Cavu PicturesMarch 11, 2021, 7:00 a.m. ETStill Life in LodzDirected by Slawomir GrunbergDocumentary1h 15mFind TicketsWhen you purchase a ticket for an independently reviewed film through our site, we earn an affiliate commission.The loosely observed conceit of “Still Life in Lodz” is that certain objects bear passive witness to history. In this documentary, directed by Slawomir Grunberg, Lilka Elbaum, a historical researcher born in Lodz, Poland, starts with a painting from the apartment in Lodz where she grew up. The painting had hung on a wall there since 1893, she says. It was the first thing she saw in the morning, and its absence left a “gaping wound” on the wall when her family left Poland in 1968, emigrating to North America to escape anti-Semitism.[embedded content]Grunberg and Elbaum interweave stories of departures from different periods. Elbaum meets with Roni Ben Ari, an Israeli-born photographer whose family lived in Elbaum’s building decades earlier until leaving Poland in 1926. Paul Celler, a real-estate developer raised in New Jersey, tours Lodz with Elbaum looking for traces there from the life of his mother, who spent two years in the Lodz ghetto and was then taken to Auschwitz. Elbaum also tells the story of Pola Erlich, a dentist who lived in Elbaum’s eventual apartment before World War II. She was sent to the Lodz ghetto and the Chelmno death camp.Because Erlich lived in the apartment that later became Elbaum’s, her story fits the central through line — that an inanimate painting could open a window on successive tragedies. But much of the material feels arbitrarily chosen — and sometimes just arbitrary. (Elbaum visits a contemporary Polish flea market seeking information on the painting’s creator, who was Russian. Is that a logical place to look?) The individual stories are powerful, as are the visual comparisons between present-day and historical locations. A few animated sequences effectively evoke the evanescence of memory.Still Life in LodzNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 15 minutes. Watch through virtual cinemas.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    ‘My Beautiful Stutter’ Review: Speaking Truth to Power

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘My Beautiful Stutter’ Review: Speaking Truth to PowerThe film is pitched more as a public-service announcement than as a documentary with cinematic ambitions.A moment at a summer program for children who stutter in the documentary “My Beautiful Stutter.”Credit…DiscoveryMarch 11, 2021, 7:00 a.m. ETMy Beautiful StutterDirected by Ryan GielenDocumentary1h 30mFind TicketsWhen you purchase a ticket for an independently reviewed film through our site, we earn an affiliate commission.The goal of “My Beautiful Stutter” is to raise awareness about people who stutter and to correct misimpressions and attitudes that surround the speech disorder. Directed by Ryan Gielen, the film is pitched more as a public-service announcement than as a documentary with cinematic ambitions. Reviewing it in artistic terms seems beside the point.Primarily, the movie is a showcase for Camp SAY, a summer camp for school-age children who stutter. The acronym stands for The Stuttering Association for the Young. The association’s founder, Taro Alexander, who stutters himself, tells campers he didn’t meet anyone else who stuttered until he was 26. The camp shows children that there are others like them and builds their confidence.[embedded content]Adhering to an overworked format, the movie follows several campers. We meet Julianna, who turned to singing as an outlet, and Emily and Sarah, friends who each in their way once shied away from talking because they found it exhausting. Malcolm, from New Orleans, who witnessed a violent incident as a child, forges a friendship with the older Will, a star English student who writes a college essay about the mismatch between the language in his mind and his ability to vocalize.It may seem odd that there is no mention of Joe Biden, who dealt with a stutter in childhood, but the movie is not current. It was filmed during the camp’s 2015 session, when the summer program was in North Carolina (it is now in Pennsylvania), and the first screenings took place in 2019. The lessons — for stutterers and non-stutterers — still hold.My Beautiful StutterNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 30 minutes. Watch on Discovery+.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    ‘Kid 90’ Review: Celluloid Dreams

    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main story‘Kid 90’ Review: Celluloid DreamsSoleil Moon Frye’s look back at her life as a child star in the 1990s walks the thin line between diary and documentary.Soleil Moon Frye is the subject and director of the documentary “Kid 90.”Credit…Soleil Moon Frye/HuluMarch 11, 2021, 7:00 a.m. ETKid 90Directed by Soleil Moon FryeDocumentary, Biography, Family, HistoryFind TicketsWhen you purchase a ticket for an independently reviewed film through our site, we earn an affiliate commission.At the heart of Soleil Moon Frye’s new film, “Kid 90” (streaming on Hulu), is a startling drive for self-documentation. Beginning in her early teens, Moon Frye, who starred on the popular children’s show “Punky Brewster,” began recording her life with a video camera. She seems to have taken her camcorder everywhere: film sets, road trips, parties with fellow child stars, even her breast reduction surgery at age 15. When she didn’t film something, she recorded her reflections on audiotape or in her journal with precocious introspectiveness.[embedded content]In “Kid 90,” Moon Frye revisits this material after nearly two decades, walking the thin line between diary and documentary. Her home videos offer a charming portrait of celebrity right before the boom of paparazzi and social media, when being confronted with a camera didn’t yet elicit caution or studied posturing from the young and famous. Moon Frye’s ebullience brought together a vibrant circle of peers: Brian Austin Green, David Arquette, Justin Pierce, Leonardo di Caprio and many others appear in the film. They’re endearingly unselfconscious and, dare I say, normal — just kids exploring friendship, romance and the confusions of coming-of-age.If the unremarkableness of the moments captured in Moon Frye’s footage is refreshing, it also makes for a somewhat insipid film. In interviews, Moon Frye hints at the darker aspects of young womanhood and celebrity that creep at the edges of her frame: sexual abuse, drug addiction, mental illness. But the director is too enamored of the pixelated, lo-fi nostalgia of her celluloid memories — and too intent on crafting a rose-tinted arc of “self-love” — to dig deeper into these themes. The result is a film poised rather uncertainly between the personal and the cultural.Kid 90Not rated. Running time: 1 hour 12 minutes. Watch on Hulu.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More