Southland Tales

Grade: B (though I have a hunch it could improve with age)

In 2001 young writer/director Richard Kelly came out of nowhere with Donnie Darko, a film that deservedly earned a hardcore cult following. Fans waited five years for his follow-up, Southland Tales, only to hear that audiences and press members seriously hated it when it premiered at the 2006 Cannes Film Festival. A year and a half has passed, and the film has finally made it to theaters with approximately 20 minutes of footage cut from the Cannes version. If the Portland, OR market is any indication Southland will have a theatrical longevity akin to one of Lindsay Lohan's sobriety sprees. It opened on Nov. 16, and as of Nov. 30 it won't be playing anywhere in town - which is saying a lot considering that we have a ton of second run screens.

I just had to see what this cinematic abortion was all about, especially since a few distinguished national critics (Manohla Dargis of The New York Times and Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly, for instance) put some positive spin on it. Like David Lynch's Inland Empire last year, it's a very hard film to put into words. All I know is that I saw a lot of inspired and playful filmmaking, and that a lot of it makes absolutely no sense.

The year is 2008, a few years after a nuclear apocalypse wiped out Texas. In Southern California an action movie star (The Rock), a porn actress (Sarah Michelle Gellar) and a law enforcement dude with dual identity issues (Seann William Scott) bump elbows with neo-Marxist terrorists and other baddies. Early on I abandoned my attempt to follow the plot and enjoyed the deliriously anarchichal tone and the hilarious supporting performances from Wallace Shawn, Miranda Richardson and Saturday Night Live alums Cheri Oteri, Jon Lovitz and Amy Poehler.

The last twenty minutes are a total mess, but even when Kelly wrapped things up with an idiotic line about pimps and their aversion to commiting suicide I still felt quite a buzz.

Jacob Marley's Christmas Carol

This holiday season the Portland theater company Public Playhouse takes the dick out of Dickens by rounding up an all female cast for their production of Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol.
In this revisionist version of the yuletide staple, actor and playwright Tom Mula steals the spotlight from Ebenezer Scrooge and shines it on the chained ghost of Jacob Marley. Mula performed the show solo when it premiered in Chicago in 1998, and later he rewrote it as an ensemble piece for four actors.
In Public Playhouse’s girl power rendition, the company’s Executive Director, Jolin Milberg, stars as Jacob Marley, and pansexual actress Kate Mura plays the role of Scrooge.
In Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol, Mura said, “The focus turns to how Marley has to bring about Scrooge’s redemption. Now we know his backstory and why he needs Scrooge to be redeemed.”
Mura, 28, grew up in New Jersey and studied acting at DePaul University in Chicago. Rather than unleash yet another portrayal of Scrooge as a one-dimensional crotchety old man, she’s employing an acting technique called RasaBoxes. The technique – which is inspired by Hindu philosophy – allows actors to explore a wide range of emotional states when preparing for a role. “It gives me a broader palette to work with,” said Mura.
Mura is energetic and articulate, and she offered some engaging tales about her childhood and her sexuality. According to her mother she had her heart set on show business before she was even born. “When my mother was nine months pregnant,” she said, “my parents went to an opera. I kicked on different sides of the womb depending on whether the altos or sopranos were singing. My mom knew I’d be a performer.”
Growing up near Manhattan gave Mura an opportunity to see queer-themed plays like Falsettos and Angels in America at an early age. But of all things it was the animated film The Last Unicorn that inspired her to explore her sexuality to its fullest. “The prince says ‘I love whom I love,” Mura recalled, “and it helped me realize I could love people regardless of their sex or gender.”
Apart from her Portland acting credits – which include a recent role in 8 Views Toward Center by Integrity Productions – Mura has worked on sets and costumes for Third Rail Productions and Northwest Childrens Theater. In addition she recently acted in a local film called The Messiah Complex.

Public Playhouse presents Jacob Marley’s Christmas Carol, December 7-22, CoHo Theatre, 2257 N.W. Raleigh St., Thursdays through Saturdays at 7:30 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m., $14-$16 ($10 on Thursday, Dec. 13).

Now on DVD

Crazy Love (Grade: A-)

In New York City in the late 1950s a beautiful woman named Linda Riss fought off the obsessive romantic advances of a man named Henry Pugach. In an undeniably imaginative retaliation he hired two men to throw acid in her face. She lost most of her vision while he cooled off at Tsing Tsing and - here's the real kicker - sixteen years later they got married and they've been together ever since. This juicy slice of pulp nonfiction is the subject of Crazy Love, a fascinating documentary directed by Dan Klores and Fisher Stevens. Linda and Henry talk at length about their cuckoo relationship, and some frighteningly timeworn friends and colleagues pitch in their memories of this tabloid sensation.

Before the Devil Knows You're Dead (Grade C+)

I'm a big fan of Sidney Lumet's 1970s films (particularly Dog Day Afternoon and Network), and it thrilled me to hear that, at age 83, he's back in top form with his latest effort. Before the Devil Knows You're Dead - a modern American tragedy by way of a heist movie - has garnered great reviews and the seasoned Oscar predictors at http://www.awardsdaily.com/ have named it a contender in several major categories. I think it's one of the year's most overrated films, right along with the Bob Dylan biopic I'm Not There.

Kelly Masterson's screenplay concerns two derelict brothers (Philip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke) who royally botch their attempt to rob their parents' jewelry store. It uses a non chronological narrative style that Stephen Soderbergh used much more skillfully in his crime films Out of Sight (1998) and The Limey (1999). You'd think you couldn't go wrong with the likes of Hoffman, Marisa Tomei, Albert Finney and Hawke...okay maybe you could go wrong with Ethan, but he was really good in Training Day. The problem is that Lumet cranks up the melodrama so sky-high that the actors are in a perpetual state of angst that feels just as artificial as one-dimensional joyful characters in a mediocre comedy.

For all its faults, it must be said that Before the Devil Knows You're Dead is hard to shake. This particular web of greed, betrayal and violence is not spun brilliantly, but it's so insidious that you can't help but think about it and cringe the next day - especially if you're unlucky enough to remember the traumatic sight of Hoffman screwing Tomei doggy-style.

Stephen Fry's documentary on AIDS airs Saturday, December 1st on the Sundance Channel

Stephen Fry: HIV & ME

Gay British actor Stephen Fry is probably best known for his uncanny portrayal of Oscar Wilde in the 1997 film Wilde.
Last year he made the acclaimed television documentary The Secret Life of the Manic Depressive, drawing on his own struggles with bipolar disorder. Now he’s back in reporter mode with the new documentary Stephen Fry: HIV & Me. The program premiered on the BBC in early October, and on December 1st the Sundance Channel will show it in recognition of World AIDS Day.
The only significant problem with HIV & Me is the title. It can easily be interpreted to mean that Fry is HIV positive, which he is not. This quibble aside, Fry has crafted a comprehensive and enlightening study of AIDS in the year 2007. He poses questions that have been nagging him, and then sets out to speak with a broad spectrum of people who live with the stigma of AIDS – heterosexuals, teens, hemophiliacs, gays and immigrants from Africa, to name a few. While visiting San Francisco he chats with Tales of the City author Armistead Maupin.
Fry wants to know: Why does AIDS rarely make headlines anymore, even though risky sexual behavior is on the rise? Do people realize that heterosexual sex has overcome homosexual sex as the most common route of transmission in new cases in Great Britain? Why- despite so many extraordinary innovations in medical treatment – do so many AIDS patients continue to feel ashamed and ostracized.
Fry reflects on his anxieties about getting tested in the 1980s, and the despair of seeing many of his friends die in hospitals. These tales are certainly relevant, but HIV & Me is most gripping when Fry steps aside and lets his interview subjects do the talking. In a horrifying sequence a group of young men explain the significance of “passing the gift” – an act in which an HIV negative man willingly has unsafe sex with HIV positive men.
In sub-Saharan Africa Fry explores a different kind of horror by unveiling the corruption of politicians and bureaucrats who get fat on AIDS donations and provide virtually no health care for the rapidly growing number of infected people. HIV & Me does not predict a hopeless future for Africa, however. Fry showcases several tireless individuals who educate children about AIDS and safe sex to hopefully reduce the spread of the epidemic in the future.

Persepolis
Grade: A

Opens on December 25th:

Marjane Satrapi’s celebrated graphic novels about growing up in Iran and Austria have jumped from the page to the screen with most of their charm, intelligence and edginess intact. Except for a few color scenes, Satrapi and her co-director Vincent Paronnaud stick to simple black-and-white animation that is refreshingly heartfelt compared to the barrage of computer animated movies out there. It takes awhile for the film to strike a balance between Satrapi’s silly humor and her horrifying recollections about war and oppression in Iran, but by the midway point the story is completely engrossing on both levels, and it becomes impossible to imagine excluding Persepolis from a list of this year’s best films. Catherine Deneuve provides the voice of Satrapi’s mother.

Beowulf
Grade: C-

Director Robert Zemeckis continues to lose credibility by turning a classic Old English epic poem into a headache-inducing video game. To tell the story of a warrior who defends a Danish castle against monsters he employs sophisticated but unattractive computer animation techniques that make Robin Wright Penn look like Princess Fiona from Shrek. Angelina Jolie, Anthony Hopkins and Ray Winstone also waste their talents on the project. I can only speak for the 3D version screened for the press, but I’m betting that the 2D and IMAX versions are just as awful.

American Gangster (Grade A-)

Out of all the big movie releases this fall I looked forward to American Gangster the least. Maybe it's because it seemed like director Ridley Scott's genius days were over (A logical conclusion given that most of his recent films have sucked. Kingdom of Heaven or A Good Year, anyone?). And though I admire his work in L.A. Confidential and The Insider, my tolerance for Russell Crowe and his icky Aussie machismo is very low these days. Despite these reservations I gave Gangster a whirl today, and I must admit that I was impressed. Denzel Washington is as commanding and charming as always as New York heroin lord Frank Lucas. Crowe is just fine as his foil and Ruby Dee does wonders with about five minutes of screen time as Lucas's mother. Some scenes are shamelessly derivative of The French Connection, Goodfellas and The Godfather films. But for the most part Scott turns this true story into a riveting ride, and teases out fascinating aspects of the Vietnam Era that I'd never seen in a mainstream film.

Red Road

Grade: A

Winner of several major awards, including a jury prize at Cannes, this debut feature from Scottish director Andrea Arnold is a chilling, surprising and sophisticated tale of grief and revenge. In Glasgow - a city one can only hope is not as bleak and depressing as it looks in this film - an emotionally distant woman named Jackie works in a dark room with a wall's worth of TV monitors, surveying live camera footage for occasional crimes that she's supposed to report to the powers that be.

Jackie is clearly in a state of mourning, though we don't find out why until the end of the film. We do know, however, that she sees a man on camera who's been released early from prison, and this provokes Jackie to undertake a mission so strange and humiliating that we start to think she's bonkers until ... you guessed it ... we discover the reason why she's grieving in the first place. Kate Dickie is brilliant as the ubermelancholy Jackie. Tony Curran makes for a creepy-but-charming mystery man, and the wonderful Nathalie Press from My Summer of Love makes the most of her limited screen time.

NOTE: If you rent the DVD be sure to turn on the English subtitles because the Scottish brogue is often incomprehensible.

Gone Baby Gone
Grade: B

Ben Affleck makes his directing debut with this dark tale about a private detective (Ben's brother, Casey) who undergoes an ethical crisis while investigating the abduction of a Boston girl. Unfortunately he only delivers half of a good movie, forsaking taut and credible suspense for convoluted plotting at the halfway point. Looking back on preposterous denouement of Mystic River, this seems to be the curse of films based on mystery novels by Dennis Lehane (Martin Scorsese's adaptation of Shutter Island - a book which also boasts some severely off-the-rails plotting - is due out in 2009). Even though you may roll your eyeballs at the storyline, you should see Gone Baby Gone for its terrific ensemble cast. Ed Harris, Amy Madigan and Michelle Monaghan all turn in solid work, but the real revelation here is stage actress Amy Ryan, who is positively brilliant and horrifying as the wisecracking, drug addict mother of the missing girl. She's a front-runner for the Best Supporting Actress Oscar, and she deserves to win.

Now on DVD:

This Filthy World (Grade A)

Bumping into John Waters on the street a few weeks ago inspired me to watch some of his old movies, and yesterday I discovered that his stand-up comedy film This Filthy World just came out on DVD. Filmed over two nights at the Harry De Jur Playhouse in New York City, the show is hilarious from start to finish. My partner laughed so hard that he dredged up mucus from his lungs, and he's not even sick. In keeping with his nickname - The Pope of Trash - Waters does his simultaneously scathing and charming shtick on a set that looks like the unholiest of Catholic altars, complete with fuzzy pink carpeting and garbage cans. It's impossible to do justice to Waters' countless raunchy zingers in print. Suffice it to say that he serves up a generous portion of childhood memories, fondly recalls his influences (such as schlock horror director William Castle) and takes us behind the scenes of all of his films.

What's his most alarming confession? He's itching to murder everyone who exercises in airports and all those moronic enunciators out there who desecrate the word "picture" by saying "pit-cher."

Opens Wednesday, November 21

I'm Not There (Grade C)

Until now gay Portland filmmaker Todd Haynes has batted a thousand with beautifully stylized and controversial films like Poison, Velvet Goldmine and Far From Heaven. The Village Voice named his masterpiece Safe the best film of the 1990s.
But his latest project hits a brick wall, and that wall’s name is Bob Dylan. I’m Not There – an adamantly unconventional biopic about the legendary troubadour – boasts good acting, stunning cinematography and a few other jewels that we’ve come to expect from Haynes. But it’s really pretentious, it rambles and it ultimately alienates any viewer who doesn’t subscribe to the belief that Dylan is an unfathomably complex mythical figure.
Before the cameras rolled I’m Not There generated monster buzz as a result of an audacious casting maneuver. Like Todd Solondz’s Palindromes, Haynes uses multiple actors to portray various aspects of Dylan’s identity. For the most part he avoids a chronological narrative by crosscutting between the different story lines.
Child actor Marcus Carl Franklin gets the ball rolling as “Woody,” an itinerant black boy who – like Dylan – is highly influenced by Woody Guthrie. Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Ben Whishaw and Cate Blanchett play the singer/songwriter at various points in the 1960s, while a scruffy Richard Gere rides around on a horse in a tedious segment that pays homage to Dylan’s fascination with Billy the Kid.
All the performances are solid, but Blanchett is the most intriguing of the bunch. This is not simply because it’s a novelty to see her in drag. In fact, she captures Dylan’s nervous mannerisms so perfectly that you instantly forget he’s a she. Blanchett won Best Actress honors at the Venice Film Festival for the role, and she’s already a front runner for an Oscar.
Unfortunately Blanchett and her costars can’t make up for the unengaging storytelling, or the off-putting feeling that you’d have to study every scrap of Dylan esoterica and memorize all his lyrics to really “get” the movie.
The tone of the movie shifts so much that it becomes hard to tell when Haynes is joking and when he’s deadly serious. In interview footage Julianne Moore plays a character based on Joan Baez. The phony folk concert photos that accompany her recollections look like they’re straight out of a Christopher Guest send-up. I enjoyed the comic relief, but the lack of laughter from fellow viewers me wonder if this was supposed to be a joke or a yet another reverent bow at the Dylan altar.