MediaboyMusings Reviews

Bone Tomahawk (2015)

Great cast, excellent dialogue, and impressive visuals on a budget

[8/10 · 19 December 2015]

Between its "horror western" billing and barely detectable presence at the box office, Bone Tomahawk has "cult film" written all over it and that's a shame because it certainly deserves a wider audience. The 10 or so people I've asked about Bone Tomahawk had never heard of it and that lack of awareness, due to little or no promotion, is an unfortunate by-product of the film's independent nature (it cost less than $2 million to make). Kurt Russell, the film's star, turns in a first-rate performance as Frank Hunt, the sheriff of a frontier town in the American West in the 1800's. Russell hasn't acted much since starring in Quentin Tarantino's Death Proof in 2007 and it's nice to see him back in 2015 with some high profile and meaty roles (this summer's Furious 7 and Tarantino's about-to-be-released The Hateful Eight). Here, he's surrounded by a talented cast that includes Patrick Wilson (Watchmen and the current season of TV's Fargo), Richard Jenkins (The Visitor and TV's Six Feet Under), and Matthew Fox (TV's Lost), with additional support from David Arquette, Lili Simmons, and Sean Young.

First-time director S. Craig Zahler also wrote the character-driven screenplay, which Russell called "the best Western I've read since Tombstone". I was rather surprised to learn that 1993's Tombstone was the last western Russell had appeared in, considering how memorable he was in it as Wyatt Earp and how comfortable he seems in the genre (apparently he's making up for lost time - The Hateful Eight is also a Western). The gruff Hunt, sporting a lite version of the full-on Yosemite Sam-style facial hair Russell displays in Tarantino's upcoming film, heads up a four-man posse who represent the only hope for some locals kidnapped by a tribe of cannibalistic cave-dwellers. Also included in the foursome are Jenkins' bumbling deputy (the film's go-to source for comic relief), Fox's dandyish gunslinger, and Wilson as the broken-legged distraught husband of one of the kidnapped townsfolk. The physical limitations of Wilson's character impede the urgent nature of the group's quest, who need to make a five day journey in three days. That conveniently helps to extend the time available for the interplay between the four radically different characters and it's those lively exchanges that are Bone Tomahawk's core strength. Viewers looking for extended action sequences or buckets of blood will be sorely disappointed - this is a slowly paced and talk-heavy film. That being said, Bone Tomahawk does contain some occasionally brutal visuals; one particularly disturbing scene is likely to stay with you long after the credits have finished rolling.

One of the few faults I can find with Bone Tomahawk is that it does feel a tad overstretched at 132 minutes. Otherwise, Zahler impresses mightily in a directorial debut that features excellent casting, sharp dialogue, and a beautiful look that shows no signs of the film's minuscule budget.

mediaboymusings.blogspot.ca

Adult Beginners (2014)

A quickly forgotten film...

[5/10 · 17 September 2014]

Adult Beginners' plot: After becoming a pariah to just about everyone he's connected with after a failed product launch, self-centred entrepreneur Jake (played by stand-up comic Nick Kroll) returns to his childhood home where his sister, Justine (played by Rose Byrne), and brother-in-law, Danny (played by Bobby Cannavale), live with their three-year-old son. As Jake licks his wounds and contemplates his next step, he comes to appreciate the value of family and the virtue of humility.

Kroll would seem to be an unlikely candidate to play a character who rediscovers their humanity in a comedic film with touchy feely leanings like Adult Beginners, considering the abrasive nature of his stand-up act and his television roles on The League and Kroll Show. His snide personality is intact initially, mind you, but that edge is gradually dulled as Jake is welcomed into his sister's home and takes on the nanny responsibilities for his nephew. The fish-out-of-water scenario rarely yields impactful results, however, be they of the moving or comedic variety, and the movie rarely goes anywhere you're not expecting it to. Kroll acquits himself decently with the limited material, as do Byrne and Cannavale, who are given their own marital issues to wrestle with as a subplot. Peripheral characters played by Jane Krakowski, Josh Charles, Paula Garces, and Joel McHale barely register, although one scene with Saturday Night Live's Bobby Moynihan playing a former classmates of Jake's delivers the movie's best laughs and will ring true for anyone who's had one of those run-ins with someone from your past that you wouldn't even want as a Facebook friend.

Adult Beginners disappoints with its skimpy joke-to-laugh ratio and ability to move the viewer with Jake's transformation, adding up to a slight movie that's unlikely to stay with you for very long.

Tusk (I) (2014)

One of the worst movies I've ever watched...

[1/10 · 15 September 2014]

Kevin Smith, whose repeated threats in recent years of permanently exiting the world of filmmaking have taken on the dubious credibility of retirement announcements from, say, most classic rock bands, has apparently found his creative mojo once again with the batsh*t crazy Tusk. Smith's previous film, 2011's Red State, was justifiably poorly received by critics and audiences, souring him even further on the filmmaking process. Then in 2013, a bizarre discussion on an episode of Smith's SModcast podcast hastily inspired him to write and direct Tusk, a high-concept movie (in more ways than one, I'm sure) that can be summarized with one sentence: Los Angeles podcaster visits Manitoba and gets kidnapped by a lunatic who turns him into a walrus. Still with me? Smith, during the film's second TIFF screening I attended after its world premiere the night before, joked that he had reached the point in his career where "I don't give a fu*k anymore", but just because Smith has reached a bitter crossroads in his career that's resulted in quite literally one of the worst movie experiences I've ever sat through doesn't mean you should also be subjected to the man's lack of impulse control.

Two main things drew me to Tusk: 1) I was a modest fan of most of Smith's work (which you probably can't tell from the contempt being leveled at him in this review, but that just speaks to the permanently scarring effects of this abomination) and 2) the film is mostly set in Manitoba and promised plenty of Canadian references and jokes. The humour, like almost everything else in Tusk, never works, however. I can count on one hand the number of times I laughed during the film and I was surprised, frankly, that Smith, a man with both a sharp wit and an extensive knowledge of this country (as he'll gladly point out any chance he gets about the latter), stooped to such lazy and predictable jokes about not loving hockey and the word "aboot". Johnny Depp shows up briefly to chew scenery as Guy Lapointe, a quirky Quebec detective constructed entirely of French-Canadian stereotypes that become tiresome very quickly. For further evidence of the film's humour deficiency, the name of the comedy podcast hosted by protagonist Wallace Bryton (played by Justin Long, who goes heavy on the douchebaggery) and his sidekick, Teddy (played by The Sixth Sense's Haley Joel Osment), is "The Not-See Party", whose theme finds the hosts making fun of people they've read about or seen on the internet. That kind of half-assed and witless screen writing also extends to key plot points, like the one that conveniently allows Wallace to contact his friends after being kidnapped by the deranged Howard Howe (played by Michael Parks, who's decent performance is the only thing remotely redeemable about the movie). I could go on about how the supposed big payoff of seeing Wallace transformed into a walrus disappoints mightily with shoddy special effects (the sight of him is slightly disturbing, but not Human Centipede-level disturbing), or how the tease of some much-needed action at the movie's end is practically over before it begins, or how the dreadful final scene provided a fitting end to this turd of a film…but I'm sure you've gotten my point. As I write this, I've gotten six days of distance from watching Tusk and having to revisit it for this review has genuinely made me feel, well, annoyed.

That annoyance was felt during the screening, too, as a packed audience heavy on Smith fanboys and fangirls at the sizable Bloor Hot Docs Cinema inexplicably laughed and cheered throughout the movie. Normally I stick around for festival Q & A sessions, but as the credits rolled and Tusk was met with rapturous applause, I couldn't head for the exits quickly enough to get as far away as possible from Kevin Smith and anyone who thought his latest film was worthy of such adoration. And fair warning: Smith has two more films in the pipeline that'll complete what he's calling his "True North Trilogy". Yoga Hosers is currently shooting and centres around the pair of surly teenage girl convenience store clerks (played by Smith's and Depp's daughters) that get about five minutes of forgettable screen time in Tusk, to be followed by a Jaws-inspired movie about a killer moose. God help us all.

Black or White (2014)

A tastefully done film about race...

[8/10 · 15 September 2014]

A drama dealing predominantly with the topics of race and a custody battle over an adorable 7-year-old girl is inherently fraught with potential hazards for any filmmaker. Screenwriter and director Mike Binder is more than up to the task, however, drawing broadly from his own experiences as the adoptive father of a bi-racial child to inform the narrative of the excellent Black And White, which had its world premiere at TIFF. Producer and star Kevin Costner, who reteams with Binder after the pair collaborated on 2005's The Upside Of Anger, believed in the project so strongly that he took the uncommon step of financing the indie's $9 million budget himself after studios both big and small shied away from the movie's racially-charged subject matter.

Costner plays wealthy L.A. lawyer Elliot Anderson, a man who's a little too well-acquainted with fresh tragedy in his life. Black And White's opening scene finds Elliot having just lost his wife in a car accident, relatively soon after his teenage daughter died whilst giving birth. The couple had been raising their mixed-race grandchild, Eloise (played by Jillian Estell), since the drug-addled father had ended up in prison. Elliot's navigation through his grief and mourning is complicated by his new responsibility as Eloise's sole caregiver, an escalating drinking problem, and soon a custody dispute with Rowena (played by an efficient Octavia Spencer), the paternal grandmother of Eloise who feels her granddaughter would be better off living with her side of the family.

Black And White raises numerous thoughtful points about race and prejudice, most notably during an Oscar-bait courtroom scene where Elliot speaks at length on the topic with a reasoned perspective that also reflects the character's flaws. It's Costner's best role in ages, as he plays Elliot with a perfect balance of both deep vulnerability and brusqueness. Newcomer Estell demonstrates impressive range that helps elevate Black And White above the trappings of over-sentimentality that frequently torpedoes films centred around cute kids. Also strong in supporting roles are Toronto's Mpho Koaho as an overqualified tutor and driver hired by Elliot and stand-up comedian Bill Burr as a law associate and friend of Elliot's. Burr, whose hilarious Monday Morning Podcast I'm a regular listener of, shows surprising depth in a meatier role than he got to play on the other acting gig he'd be best known for, as one of Saul Goodman's henchmen on Breaking Bad.

Black And White tastefully deals with its delicate subject matters of race, loss, and family strife, resulting in a touching and powerful film. And aside from an ill-advised final act action scene that allows one character an opportunity at redemption, Binder's screenplay and his character's performances feel very relatable and grounded in reality.

mediaboymusings.blogspot.ca

Metallica Through the Never (2013)

Great live content, weak storyline...

[7/10 · 7 October 2013]

The last time Metallica ventured into feature film territory, it was with 2003's brilliant Some Kind Of Monster, which documented the near-implosion of metal's biggest act amidst the chaos of personality clashes between band members and the substance abuse problems of lead singer James Hetfield. This time around, chaos remains very much a dominant theme in Metallica Through The Never, the band's new IMAX 3-D feature directed by Nimród Antal that had its world premiere last month at the Toronto International Film Festival. Metallica Through The Never's first week of release saw it play exclusively on every IMAX screen in North America before expanding wider to regular theatres, which had never been done before.

Metallica has a lengthy track record of taking creative risks, with some turning out very good (their 1999 live collaboration with the San Francisco Symphony documented on the S & M album/DVD) and others not so much (2011's jawdroppingly crap Lulu album with Lou Reed). Metallica Through The Never isn't a Lulu-sized gamble, but it is one nonetheless, given the poor commercial track record of theatrical releases from rock acts over the decades and the film's ambitious structure of combining Metallica playing live with a fictional narrative. Drummer Lars Ulrich stated earlier this year that the project took some inspiration from Led Zeppelin's The Song Remains The Same film and that immediately raised my eyebrow. I love Zeppelin and all, but that movie and its bizarre fantasy sequences woven around an unremarkable live performance from the group was nothing more than a pretentious bore, as far as I'm concerned. Sure enough, the flimsy narrative element of Metallica Through The Never ends up dragging the film down, resulting in an uneven cinematic experience that is only redeemed by Metallica's live portions.

The weak plot, conceived by Antal and the band (rounded out by lead guitarist Kirk Hammett and bassist Rob Trujillo) draws partially from Metallica's lyrics and revolves around a roadie named Trip (played by Dane DeHaan from Chronicle and the next two Amazing Spider-Man movies) who is sent off on a mission during a Metallica concert to retrieve a truck that has run out of gas. Inside that truck is a mysterious bag that somehow is of great importance to the group. Perhaps, as in KISS' classic KISS Meets The Phantom Of The Park 70s TV movie, that bag holds a box containing the talismans that give the band members their special powers? Well, probably not, but maybe that'd explain Hetfield's superhuman rhythm guitar skills. What is definite is that the idea is ripped off from Pulp Fiction's mysterious briefcase. Trip's largely-narrative-free mission takes him through numerous surreal scenarios set in a mostly-deserted post-apocalyptic downtown Vancouver occupied by anarchists, riot police, zombies, and masked horsemen. Not much of it works, frankly. The only time the coupling between the band playing and the story unfolding really feels right is during a riot scene interwoven with a performance of "Cyanide". Hell, even Ulrich himself admitted recently that "I've spent three years working on this movie and I don't have any idea what it means." If the guy who helped write the script is admitting that then the rest of us are pretty much screwed, too, no?

What does work, and quite well, are Metallica's live performances, shot specifically for the film with 24 cameras over five nights in Vancouver and Edmonton a couple of summers ago. Their huge stage occupies most of the arena floor area and employs specially rigged effects and props that reference classic Metallica iconography. Ulrich fittingly refers to the elaborate and versatile setup as the "Swiss Army knife of stages", as white crosses pop up from beneath the stage, an electric chair with real bolts of electricity shooting from Tesla coils descends from the lighting rig, a collapsible statue of Lady Justice is assembled by stagehands as the band plays around them, and the hanging coffins from the most recent World Magnetic Tour display creepy visuals of people trapped inside them. The stage floor, which is covered by video screen panels, is innovative, but not quite used to optimum effect, other than the impressive visuals of flowing blood that "wash over" the stage during opening song "Creeping Death". I really wasn't blown away by how the 3-D was used in conjunction with the staging or the rest of the content in the movie, especially considering the pre-release hype about how much effort had been made to maximize the film's 3-D effects.

The band runs through a mostly-greatest hits setlist that includes live staples "For Whom The Bell Tolls", "Fuel", "One", "Master Of Puppets", "Enter Sandman", "Wherever I May Roam", and "Nothing Else Matters", while relatively less obvious songs like "Ride The Lightning", "...And Justice For All", "Hit The Lights", and an unexpected and first-rate version of the obscure instrumental "Orion" over the end credits with the band seated and playing in an empty arena also make an appearance. That old school Metallica fan who thinks they've sucked since 1991's Black Album came out would undoubtedly disagree, but to this longtime fan's ears the band has never played better than they're playing at this point of their career and Metallica Through The Never does a superb job of capturing that. And praise be to Antal and editor Joe Hutshing for giving Metallica fans a filmed concert production that doesn't overload the viewer with rapid-fire video editing, unlike their other recent slew of home video releases. 

So while the narrative component is disjointed and a slightly annoying interruption between scenes of Metallica doing what they do best, as well as those live portions not being quite as immersive as the experience I had watching U2's spectacular U23D live film, Metallica Through The Never is still a must-see for fans. Between the big screen presentation, phenomenal sound mix, and a properly loud volume level, it's unquestionably the next best thing to attending an actual Metallica show.

Artifact (2012)

A fascinating David versus Goliath story

[9/10 · 16 October 2012]

Artifact originally started off as a document of the recording of 30 Seconds To Mars' third album - pretty standard stuff that wouldn't attract much interest beyond the alt rock band's fan base. What ultimately emerged was a fascinating David versus Goliath exposé of the music industry that will appeal to a much wider audience, revealing the band's ugly battle against an unfair and outdated business model that has been screwing over artists since the industry began. Actor and 30 Seconds To Mars frontman Jared Leto directed Artifact under the pseudonym of "Bartholomew Cubbins" (the name of a Dr. Seuss character) and the film took home this TIFF's Blackberry People's Choice Documentary Award. The recognition rather surprised me, not because the film isn't worthy, but because the award is based on voting from ticket holders of a film's screenings. I saw Artifact's second of three TIFF showings the afternoon after its world premiere and the upper balcony section at the Bloor Hot Docs Cinema was only about one quarter full (mind you, the two- tiered Bloor balcony seating area is quite large).

Only a small portion of the documentary features any biographical information about the group (also including drummer and Jared's brother, Shannon, and guitarist Tomo Milicevic...any mentions of "Leto" hereafter will be referring to Jared) and the many hours of footage shot of the third album's L.A. recording sessions with producer Flood. That album's eventual title, This Is War, reflects the contentious legal battle between the band and their recording label (Virgin/EMI) that comprises most of Artifact's content. The protracted legal conflict began when the band asked to re-negotiate their contract, as their first two albums had sold almost six million copies combined and the band was somehow still in debt to the label. Virgin/EMI declined to restructure the deal and ended up suing the band for $30 million in 2008 for breach of contract when they failed to deliver their third album. Where did the $30 million figure come from? Aside from the label (who won't say), no one seems to know, but that number is too much of a coincidence and one has to assume it's some sort of clumsily conceived figure at least partly chosen for its symbolism. The lawsuit drags out for over 200 days, during which the stress can be seen on Leto and his bandmates as they take meetings with Virgin/EMI, their management (headed up by legendary manager Irving Azoff), and try to create This Is War, which they're financing themselves. Best line of the film: Leto threatens to drag his feet on handing in the album, saying they'll "Chinese Democracy this motherfuc*er".

Easy-to-digest graphics helpfully illustrate the warped accounting practices and profit sharing structures of the music industry, explaining the one-sided business relationship almost all newer acts toil under. Interviews with a number of industry figures add extra insight into the dire state of the business, with artists like Linkin Park's Chester Bennington and System Of A Down's Serj Tankian helping to represent the artist's perspective outside of the focal band. Enlightening first-hand accounts from former Virgin/EMI executives also aid in giving a more well-rounded picture of how the litigation was handled from the label's end, as well as discussing the purchase of Virgin/EMI by a UK equity firm that further complicated the lawsuit.

Leto makes an engaging main subject who I developed a new respect for with his band's principled stand against a long-entrenched system of greed. Several times, Leto questions whether or not the system is too big to fight, but the band refuses to cave. I wasn't very familiar with 30 Seconds To Mars before watching Artifact, only hearing a song or two that hadn't inspired me enough to explore them any further. Like I'm sure many have, I partially dismissed the group as another vanity side project from an actor, and we all know the dubious track record of those. Leto's musical credibility also took a hit with me when he released an extremely creepy video last year of himself dressed as Kurt Cobain while playing Nirvana's "Pennyroyal Tea". Truthfully, the 30 Seconds To Mars music heard in the film hasn't turned me into a fan, but I came away from Artifact with an appreciation of Leto's passion and dedication to his musical pursuits. It seems to be his focus right now and I was struck by the fact there was hardly even a mention in the documentary that he acts - the only acknowledgements of it are when he's recognized for his film work by fans on the streets in New York City and Miami.

Artifact is an eye-opening film that further reinforces the shady reputation of the music business via the engrossing story of one cog in the machine. 30 Seconds To Mars eventually settled their legal matter by signing a more favourable deal with Virgin/EMI, which included a clause allowing them to release Artifact.

The Iceman (2012)

Great subject, very disappointing movie

[5/10 · 9 October 2012]

The Iceman is based on the life of Richard Kuklinski, who is thought to have murdered somewhere between 100 and 250 people from the 50s through the 80s (authorities suspect there were many more slayings than the roughly 100 he confessed to). Most of those occurred while he worked as a contract killer for various New York and New Jersey crime families, but Kuklinski also admits to numerous killings outside of his hit-man duties. His story gained a wider audience with a couple of HBO documentaries in 1992 and 2002, respectively, where Kuklinski recalled his crimes while demonstrating a disturbing lack of remorse for committing them (he died in prison in 2006 while serving the five consecutive life sentences that were handed down in 1988).

Playing Kuklinski is Michael Shannon, probably best known for his work on HBO's Boardwalk Empire and the films Take Shelter and Revolutionary Road. The interesting cast directed by Ariel Vroman includes Winona Ryder as Kuklinski's wife, Deborah, Ray Liotta and Robert Davi in familiar mobster roles, David Schwimmer playing one of their flunkies, Chris Evans as another contract killer, and James Franco and Stephen Dorff in brief one-scene roles (Franco was originally supposed to play Evans' part until a scheduling conflict arose).

The middle years of Kuklinski's life make up the majority of the film, starting in the late 60s where we briefly see him courting and marrying Deborah, while hiding from her his dominant dark side and the fact that he works as a porn bootlegger. That job provides a springboard into the organized crime world, where Kuklinski soon finds himself working for Liotta's Gambino crime family-affiliated character and carrying out thuggish duties that include contract killings. Eventually, Kuklinski finds whacking employment with other upper-level east coast crime organizations, telling Deborah, their three kids, friends, and neighbours that he works in the world of finance. At this point, we're well into the 70s, meaning a number of the actors are sporting some serious porn 'stache facial hair. I had a flashback to my Cloud Atlas screening the day before, where some of the heavily made-up actors were virtually unrecognizable. In this case, Evans was on screen for several minutes before I realized it was him underneath the handlebar moustache, long hair, and glasses, looking radically different from his clean-cut Captain America character. His wisecracking Robert character is probably the best thing about The Iceman, which isn't a good thing when you consider that the role is relatively minor. The dancing scene involving him and Kuklinski, where the latter takes out their target with poison on a crowded disco floor while Blondie's "Heart Of Glass" pumps over the soundtrack, has a twistedly dark humour to it.

The stark duality of Kuklinski's life as both family man and sociopath is one of his most interesting aspects, but the film fails to exploit this angle to its full potential. His modus operandi involved the unusual habit of employing various killing methods, like poisonings, explosives, strangulations, and the usage of assorted kinds of weapons, plus temporarily freezing many of his victims (hence the nickname) to confound the police as to their times of death, if the bodies were ever found. It's another pretty fascinating nugget for the film to work with, but The Iceman comes up short once again in terms of creatively exploring this potentially rich plot point.

Shannon is a fantastic actor who excels at playing complex, troubled characters, as anyone who has seen his work in any of the aforementioned projects can attest to (I'll also throw in his memorable turn in The Runaways as Kim Fowley, that band's creepy svengali-ish manager). The actor can't rise above the too well-trodden crime movie territory that The Iceman inhabits, however, resulting in a hollow effort that feels like a shamefully wasted opportunity. Of the ten films I saw at this year's Toronto International Film Festival, The Iceman easily ranks as my biggest disappointment.

The Impossible (2012)

An average movie with one great ten minute sequence

[6/10 · 6 October 2012]

The term "disaster movie" tends to conjure up images of campy and disposable entertainment involving killer asteroids and doomed ship voyages, so attaching it to a film like The Impossible feels wrong, considering the terrible true-life circumstances on which it's based. Those circumstances involve the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake and tsunami that killed an estimated 280,000 people in 14 different countries. Specifically, the film tells the story of the Belon family, British tourists who were separated from each other when the tsunami hit their beachside resort in Thailand on December 26th.

The bulk of the film features the parallel stories of Henry (played by Ewan McGregor) and his two sons struggling to reunite with his doctor wife, Maria (played by Naomi Watts), and the couple's oldest son, Lucas (played by impressive newcomer Tom Holland). The Impossible's focal point is obviously the tsunami event and the sequence is quite impressively executed by Spanish director Juan Antonio Bayona. Mostly eschewing special effects and relying on recreating the spectacle in the second largest water tank in the world, the ten minute sequence is gripping and immersive, realistically conveying the magnitude, violence, and unpredictability of mother nature. The aftermath of the big disaster (meaning the vast majority of the movie) inevitably feels somewhat anti-climatic, as the family makes the slow, arduous journey back to one another. Bayona briefly livens things up during one of these scenes with a gruesome close-up shot of a thigh wound suffered by Maria that elicited collective gasps and squirms from the theatre audience. That shot apparently caused a couple of moviegoers at The Impossible's TIFF world premiere screening the day before to actually pass out. In either the same scene or one shortly before or shortly after it, the director also made what I thought was an odd decision in showing one of Maria's breasts being exposed to her son because one of the straps on her top had broken off. Considering the hell the tsunami had just put them through, the scenario was completely plausible and the real-life Maria was on set for most of the lengthy seven month shoot (ironically, bad weather slowed down production), so I can't even entertain the notion that the shot was exploitative. Even still, it just seemed like a very strange creative choice on Bayona's part.

Watts and McGregor give sound performances in roles I'd classify as unremarkable, especially McGregor's. Watts has a lot more heavy lifting to do, particularly during the numerous scenes where she's bedridden. Some early reviews of The Impossible wildly speculated on Oscar nominations for their performances, which would devalue that whole spectacle even more in my eyes than it already is. Holland gets more screen time than either star and acquits himself very well. The Impossible's frequent reliance on the youngster's point of view, coupled with the spectacle of the tsunami, also lends the film an unmistakable Spielbergian quality (you can also find it in the occasionally overly manipulative musical score).

I found myself intermittently more emotionally invested with the characters than I would have expected, but The Impossible ends up feeling like little more than average entertainment with one dynamic ten minute segment.

( More of my reviews at Mediaboymusings.blogspot.ca )

Roman Polanski: Odd Man Out (2012)

Not as powerful as 'Wanted And Desired', but still well done

[7/10 · 1 October 2012]

Director Marina Zenovich follows up her acclaimed 2008 documentary Roman Polanski: Wanted And Desired with the intriguing, if slightly less impactful Roman Polanski: Odd Man Out, which had its world premiere at TIFF. Wanted And Desired brilliantly dissected the details of Polanski's mishandled 1977 statutory rape case, the filmmaker's subsequent fleeing of the U.S., and his life since that time. Odd Man Out adds further perspective and insight into the man and his case, while also examining the unforeseen effects that the preceding film had on both Polanski's and Zenovich's lives. Even considering the evolution of the story with Polanski's unexpected 2009 arrest in Switzerland on an American warrant and his subsequent imprisonment, I was mildly skeptical as to whether or not the filmmaker merited another feature-length doc from the same director so relatively soon after the first one. The excellence of Wanted And Desired gave Zenovich the benefit of the doubt from me, however, and what she presents in Odd Man Out more than justifies another Polanski doc.

Some facts and details from the first film are expectedly revisited, usually with some sort of update where relevant. Most notable is the bizarre retraction of statements made in Wanted And Desired from David Wells, one of the rape case's former prosecutors and a central figure of that film. Samantha Geimer, the then-13-year- old rape victim, is also interviewed extensively (as she was in Wanted And Desired), reiterating that she has forgiven Polanski and wishing everyone would just move on with their lives. Not to sound insensitive to what she's gone through, but I was a little puzzled at the contradiction in her expressed exasperation at the continuing media attention, yet still being willing to talk about Polanski and the case (along with her mother and husband) in a prominent documentary.

The centrepiece of Odd Man Out is Polanski's 2009 arrest, which was followed by over two months spent in a Swiss jail and seven more months under house arrest at his Swiss chalet, all while the threat of extradition to the U.S. loomed over him. The motives for the timing of the arrest are murky and curious, especially considering Switzerland's long-held tradition of neutrality and that the 79-year-old filmmaker had either lived or vacationed in the country for decades. Many think that the high profile of Wanted And Desired was the prime reason - directly or indirectly - for his detainment, a proposition that weighs heavy on Zenovich. She also looks at other possible intriguing factors, including that Switzerland might have wanted to cooperate with the U.S. government in exchange for leniency surrounding a matter of tax evasion charges between the two countries involving Swiss bank UBS, or that the resurrected case might have been used for attention by a Los Angeles District Attorney with higher political ambitions. The media firestorm that erupted after the arrest is also thoughtfully examined.

Once again, Zenovich gracefully navigates the delicate waters of the Polanski-as- victim portrayal that the facts in her films conflictingly make unavoidable. The director actually had an interview scheduled with him for a short film follow-up to Wanted And Desired, but he was arrested just before that interview was to take place. As interesting as that exchange would have been, the latest developments in Roman Polanski's long, strange life almost certainly make for the more engaging film experience that Odd Man Out delivers.

An "I kid you not" side note: In the lineup for the movie, just before I had turned my iPod on (and thank God I didn't miss this), a woman who clearly wasn't familiar with Polanski's history asked her friend if he would be attending the screening.

Everybody Has a Plan (2012)

A good Mortensen (times two) can't overcome sluggish pacing

[5/10 · 1 October 2012]

Everybody Has A Plan marks the fourth Spanish-language film for Viggo Mortensen, who spent a number of years in his youth living in Argentina. His latest project finds him playing identical twin brothers in the film noir from Argentinian first-time feature director Ana Piterbarg, who also co-wrote the screenplay.

The premise: Agustín (played by Mortensen) would appear to have the ideal life. He's a pediatrician with an attractive wife (Claudia, played by Soledad Villamil) living quite comfortably in Buenos Aires. The couple's plan to adopt a baby derails when Agustín changes his mind at the last minute, leading to a huge rift that brings to the surface the true unfulfillment that Agustín feels with his life. In the midst of a depressive episode where Agustín decides to lock himself in a room, Claudia leaves for some time away and Agustín soon receives a visit from his estranged twin brother, Pedro (also played by Mortensen), a beekeeper who reveals he has terminal lung cancer. Certain circumstances lead to Agustín eventually escaping his obligation-filled existence and assuming his brother's identity, taking up residence in Pedro's rundown shack in Argentina's Tigre Delta island region where the brothers grew up. A romance develops with one of Pedro's much younger bee farm helpers (Rosa, played by Sofía Gala Castaglione), while Agustín becomes caught up in the fallout from Pedro's past criminal affairs with some shady locals.

Mortensen is solid as the brothers, who only share a few scenes simultaneously. Sometimes it could be difficult telling them apart, although the Pedro character tended to be a little more rough around the edges and frankly, I couldn't distinguish the characters' subtle accent differences Mortensen talked about using at the post- screening Q & A. Regardless, his comfort level with the Spanish language is certainly never an issue. Villamil and Castaglione turn in quite fine supporting work, but Daniel Fanego as the proverbial villain is a definite weak link in the film. Other than looking rather creepy, I found the role underwritten and the actor lacking in screen presence.

Piterbarg and cinematographer Lucio Bonelli do a nice job of capturing the dank and swampy atmosphere of the isolated delta area, which not surprisingly is a magnet for criminals and outcasts and makes for a nice backdrop for the malfeasance that drives the narrative. The director also specifically lets a number of questions hang, adding to the film's mystery, but occasionally there's some story choices that are befuddling. Most glaring are the ease with which Agustín sells to others that he's Pedro, as well as the fact that Agustín doesn't bolt after being beaten by locals thinking he's Pedro, just shortly after arriving in the Tigre Delta.

Everybody Has A Plan's flaws, not the least of which also includes some overly languid pacing, results in a decidedly unremarkable viewing experience.

The Place Beyond the Pines (2012)

A phenomenal first segment, then it's all downhill

[6/10 · 1 October 2012]

The Place Beyond The Pines derives its title from the English translation of the Mohawk name for Schenectady, New York, where the film is set. Director Derek Cianfrance's third feature is the follow-up to 2010's widely praised Blue Valentine, a movie whose supposed magnificence was lost on me. Cianfrance reteams with one of that film's stars, Ryan Gosling, for one of The Place Beyond The Pines' three segments that unfolds over a 15 year period with interconnected story lines that mixes elements of crime drama, teenage angst, questions about fate, and the complexities of father-son relationships.

The first segment is unquestionably the film's strongest, with Gosling further refining the brooding anti-hero character that seems to have become his stock-in- trade. His Luke character is introduced in the film's great opening scene that employs an extensive single tracking shot, as the audience views his heavily tattooed body and carnival motorcycle stunt rider profession, which convey Luke's societal fringe elements without saying a word. Luke's white trash status is also reinforced by the repeated wearing of a Metallica Ride The Lightning muscle tee and a ratty white t-shirt worn inside out in public, tag and all (I love that the latter is never addressed by any characters Luke meets). A reconnection with a woman (Romina, played by a solid Eva Mendes) he had a quickie fling with the last time his job brought him to town reveals that he's the father of her two-year old son. The news awakens Luke's paternal instincts and he attempts to insert himself back into the pair's lives, despite the complication of another man in Romina's life. Desperate to prove he can provide for Romina and his son, Luke ends up robbing banks, with the assistance of a scruffy auto mechanic he's met (an excellent Ben Mendelsohn providing some understated comic relief). Aspects of Luke and his deeds immediately bring to mind Gosling's role from last year's Drive. Despite the similarities in roles surprisingly played so close to each other, Gosling's unpredictable, violence-prone character commands the screen for the approximately hour long length of his segment. His storyline does admittedly benefit from the best writing of the three segments, courtesy of screenwriters Cianfrance, Ben Coccio, and Darius Marder.

Gosling's dynamism and that first segment's brilliance are only highlighted by the significantly diminishing returns that follow it. Segment two stars Bradley Cooper as a rookie cop who found himself involved in Luke's story, with other subplots involving police corruption, morality, and an unhappy marriage also playing out. I've always found Cooper to be a rather dull actor and his performance here hasn't changed my opinion; that, combined with the segment's derivative story, managed to effectively kill my segment one buzz. The writing is also too uneven - Cooper's character is set up as a smart, moral person, yet those qualities are a little too conveniently discarded when he's presented with a career-altering decision. Bruce Greenwood is memorable in a small role as a high-ranking cop, while Ray Liotta's minor role as an intimidating, crooked cop feels like the kind of role we've seen from him dozens of times already.

Segment three completes The Place Beyond The Pines' downhill slide, focussing on the teenage sons (played by Dane DeHaan and Emory Cohen) of Gosling's and Cooper's characters. As the snoozy storyline featuring bratty behaviour from the screwed up high school students developed, I could never get past the fact the segment hinged on their chance meeting and eventual friendship. That meeting, considering the inextricably linked history they share via their fathers, was simply far too coincidental for me to suspend disbelief. Also distracting: a time jump of 15 years reveals Cooper's character and that of his wife (played by Rose Byrne) to have seemingly not aged at all, while Mendes' Romina looks to have aged about 25 years.

I respect the fact that Cianfrance took some risks with The Place Beyond The Pines, which had its world premiere at TIFF - he throws in a major plot twist relatively early on and the movie's segmented structure is definitely a gamble and somewhat unconventional, but unfortunately, the loosely connected narrative and performances don't hold together over the course of the film's too-long 140 minute running time. The disappointing ending shouldn't come as much of a shock to anyone who has just witnessed the decline from the first-rate quality of the riveting opening segment to the progressively inferior chapters that follow. As the last third of it plays out, that swing has been so dramatic that it almost feels like we're watching an altogether different movie.

Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence in the House of God (2012)

A powerful, fresh take on a much-covered topic

[8/10 · 1 October 2012]

After looking at the world of NHL pugilists in last year's outstanding The Last Gladiators, Mea Maxima Culpa: Silence In The House Of God finds director Alex Gibney returning to investigating abuses of power, a theme that has served him well in past efforts like Enron: The Smartest Guys In The Room and the Oscar-winning Taxi To The Dark Side. This disturbing exposé on the problem of child and youth sexual abuse in the Catholic Church focuses partly on the stories of five deaf men who are thought to be the first individuals to ever publicly protest abuses by clergy in the United States, after they were victimized by Father Lawrence Murphy at St. John's School for the Deaf in the suburbs of Milwaukee during the 60s and 70s. Gibney also takes a broader view of the subject by looking at other cases of clergy abuse (notably in Ireland) and the systematic cover-ups of these crimes by the Catholic Church's top officials, whose unofficial policy on the matter is to "deny, minimize, and blame", according to one journalist interviewed. "Mea Maxima Culpa's" Latin translation is "my most grievous fault".

Although the five St. John's victims have been working for over three decades to call attention to the issue and seek justice for their suffering, their story gained traction after New York Times writer Laurie Goodstein wrote an article in 2010 about the Vatican's failure to defrock Murphy, despite the fact that they were presented with undeniable evidence of his crimes and received strong warnings from some American church officials. Murphy is believed to have molested over 200 boys at the boarding school from the 50s until 1974, when he was transferred to another parish. The Vatican was alerted of Murphy's behaviour in 1963 and did nothing. Actors Jamey Sheridan, Chris Cooper, Ethan Hawke, and John Slattery give voice to the victims, who use sign language with punctuated hand slaps to express the horrors they endured at the hand of Murphy and the shame that followed. Murphy's textbook predatory behaviour found him singling out what he perceived as the weaker students and further exploiting the fact that they faced an obvious barrier in communicating over the phone with their families. Three of the victims, including Terry Kohut, who sued the Catholic Church and named the current Pope in his lawsuit, were on hand for the world premiere TIFF screening I attended and gave their emotional reaction to it afterwards at the Q & A through a sign language interpreter. Just knowing that they were in the audience and reliving their pain while seeing the finished film for the first time added an extra significance and weight to the proceedings.

The investigations resulting from the Kohut lawsuit ended up leading to the discovery of secret Vatican documents that detailed many instances of sexual abuse cover-ups that reach to the highest levels of the Catholic Church, with Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI (then Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger) substantially implicated. In the years before being anointed Pope, Ratzinger oversaw a Vatican council that monitored sexual abuse cases in the Church, so his post-anointment claims of being unaware of most of what was occurring seem highly unlikely. How his and his predecessor's culpability and mishandling of these tragic cases hasn't been a much larger media story is difficult to understand.

That aside, overall media coverage of child and youth sexual abuse in the Catholic Church has, sadly, become an all-too-familiar story that one almost becomes numb to. Gibney rises to the challenge of presenting a fresh take on a much-discussed important subject with this well-researched and powerful film. My only real negative about it are the re-enactments that Gibney employs, even if they are artfully composed and beautifully shot, using plenty of religious imagery. Re-enactments are a staple of Gibney's work (not to mention Errol Morris'), but the stories he tells are usually compelling enough and, in my opinion, the end results are slightly diminished with this gimmicky device that feels like an imagination crutch for the audience.

Cloud Atlas (2012)

Daring and quite impressive

[8/10 · 25 September 2012]

"Impressive". That's the best description I could come up with after being asked by my brother and sister-in-law about my thoughts on Cloud Atlas immediately following the film's second-ever public screening we'd just attended. Not a very incisive assessment, I'll grant you, but my head was still spinning as I tried to make sense of what I'd just witnessed over the film's jam-packed two hour and forty three minute running time. This may be one the most ambitious and epic films I've ever seen, demanding rapt attention from viewers as they're taken on an odyssey that spans the globe over 500 years and hopscotches between numerous interwoven story lines that incorporates just about every film genre available, featuring actors playing several different roles each. Cloud Atlas is based on British author David Mitchell's best-selling 2004 novel and was a huge challenge for the filmmakers to adapt and finance (its estimated budget of over $100 million also makes it the most expensive independent film ever made). The architects of this beautifully twisted madness are directors/writers/producers Tom Tykwer (Run Lola Run) and The Matrix's Wachowski siblings, Andy and Lana (Lana was Larry until a gender transition that was completed about five years ago). The Wachowskis, notoriously press shy, were surprisingly on hand (along with Tykwer) to introduce the film's second screening the morning after its star-studded TIFF world premiere on September 8th at the Princess of Wales Theatre.

A movie this expansive should have a massive cast, considering how many characters appear - not so in this case, though. Principle actors Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Hugh Grant, Jim Broadbent, Hugo Weaving, Jim Sturgess, and Xun Zhou each take on multiple roles that plays loose and fast with the actors' ages, races, and genders (Susan Sarandon, Keith David, James D'Arcy, and Doona Bae also have smaller roles). Having so many dimensions to explore with all of their characters must have been acting nirvana for this lot. For the most part, they pull off the various requirements of the roles, many of which require a significant amount of prosthetics and makeup. Several of the roles were so well disguised that I was completely clueless that a certain actor had played the role until the end credits visually made some of the big reveals (learning that Berry played the white Victorian housewife and Grant a war paint-layered native completely floored me). Sticking around until the end is an absolute necessity for Cloud Atlas - the oohs and ahhs from the sold-out audience as they discovered who actually played some of the parts was a wonderfully unique filmgoing experience for me. For all of the positive aspects that the race bending and gender bending idea brings to the film, there is the faint whiff of novelty attached to it. Things do get a little silly when you have Weaving seemingly playing an Asian character whose makeup produces more of a Vulcan look (which may have been intentional, as it's for a sci-fi sequence that takes place somewhere in the 2300s), as well as in full drag playing a Nurse Ratched-like character. The latter obviously has parallels to Lana Wachowski's own life and although the nurse character provides some decent laughs, I was a little hung up on how it seemed one of the character's main functions was to generate laughs purely based on the surreal sight of Weaving playing one truly ugly looking woman. Perhaps I'm reading too much into it.

Weaving does provide one of Cloud Atlas' most memorable roles, as the seriously creepy Old Georgie, who terrorizes one of Hanks' many characters. Hanks does some of the best work I've ever seen from him, playing four different characters that range from an unscrupulous doctor in the 1800s to going far against type with maybe the film's standout character, a modern-day thuggish British writer named Dermot Hoggins who gets the ultimate revenge on a critic for a bad review. Berry is excellent with her predominant roles playing an ambitious reporter in 1970s San Francisco and a political figurehead (from what I could grasp) aligned with one of Hanks' characters in the far future, in one of the film's few story lines that doesn't quite work. Also great is Broadbent as both a composer and playing a man tricked into living in a retirement home, who provides the film's best comic relief.

The weighty Cloud Atlas principle themes of philosophy, reincarnation, oppression, and destiny, along with the film's highly challenging pace and complex non-linear storytelling construct will overwhelm many - that's okay, however. I was lost a number of times - not Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy-level lost, mind you, but definitely out of sync with what was happening on screen. This is the type of daring film that demands multiple viewings to completely grasp the filmmakers' grand scope and there's nothing wrong with a little audaciousness from Hollywood once in a while. Even with a big-name cast, it'll be very interesting to see how the otherwise difficult-to-market Cloud Atlas will fare at the box office come late October.

Your Sister's Sister (2011)

One of the best films I saw in 2011...

[10/10 · 14 June 2012]

Written last year after screening it at the Toronto film fest:

"Lynn Shelton" - get used to hearing the name of the Seattle-based writer/director/producer/actor, because if her newest work is any indication, she's got a very bright filmmaking career ahead of her. Her fourth film and the follow-up to 2009's acclaimed Humpday, Your Sister's Sister is one of the smartest, most engaging relationship dramas (laced with charming humour) I've ever seen. Yes, it's that good.

The story doesn't exactly jump off the page, perhaps reading as the type of standard chick flick material that audiences have seen over and over again, with a subdued tone and pace that some viewers might find challenging. The magic in the film lies with the honesty and naturalism that Shelton derives from her characters and their interplay, delivered by equally outstanding performances from the three leads who improvised about 75% of their words. Emily Blunt plays Iris, the best friend of Jack (played by Mark Duplass) and the former girlfriend of Jack's brother, who died roughly a year before the movie begins. Jack, who's unemployed, just can't seem to get out of his mourning funk, so Iris encourages him (practically forces him, actually) to spend some time at her father's cabin on an island in Puget Sound. Jack takes her up on the offer and, upon arriving at the remote cabin, finds a houseguest already there. That would be Hannah, Iris' sister (played by Rosemary DeWitt), who is also seeking a little solitude to clear her head after just ending a seven year lesbian relationship. Mix a bottle of tequila with some bad judgement and the pair end up having awkward sex. The following day, Iris unexpectedly shows up, thus setting in motion the complex triangular dynamic that forms the core of the film.

Blunt, DeWitt, and Duplass have an immediate, winning chemistry with each other and they'd better. Aside from its first fifteen or so minutes, the film almost exclusively features just the three actors on screen and most of that time is spent within the four cabin walls, which gives the film a very intimate theatrical feel. DeWitt and Blunt, in particular, find a familiarity and comfort with one another that successfully sells us on their sisterhood, despite the curious fact that Iris has an English accent and Hannah an American one. I loved that Shelton holds off on revealing the reason for the accent discrepancy until well into the film, as the puzzling detail just kind of hangs there in an intriguing and only mildly nagging way. It might seem like an odd creative choice on Shelton's part, but it actually stems from the fact that Rachel Weisz, a Brit, was originally supposed to play Hannah before pulling out at the last minute. DeWitt, usually one of the best things in anything I've ever seen her in (especially her work on Showtime's United States Of Tara), deserves even more credit for her performance, considering the lack of preparation she had before jumping into the movie's lean twelve day shooting schedule. Along with Shelton's work, another major revelation taken from the film is Duplass, who I'd never heard of. He proves more than capable of handling the movie's demanding dramatic material, while also demonstrating a real flair for its comedic requirements via his goofy charm. And it turns out that like his director, Duplass also writes, directs, and produces films with his brother, Jay. Their latest movie, Jeff Who Lives At Home, premiered at this year's TIFF.

The film's soundtrack deserves special mention. Composed by Vince Smith (who handled all aspects of sound recording and design on this production), it meshes nicely with Shelton's visuals featuring the scenic Pacific Northwest, and his score plays a key role during an extended montage sequence at the end of the movie that has next to no dialogue. The sequence is a bit of a gamble on Shelton's part, but it's nicely put together and doesn't sap the film's momentum as the story comes to its conclusion.

Your Sister's Sister was picked up for distribution at TIFF by IFC Films for a summer 2012 release. Hopefully, a movie this quiet and clever can find an audience amidst the clatter of the studio tentpole offerings. Those who do discover it will be treated to a film that wasn't just the best thing I saw at the festival, but the best film I've seen this year.

Hit So Hard (2011)

A solid, but flawed rock doc...

[6/10 · 11 April 2012]

Hit So Hard (subtitled The Life & Near Death Story Of Patty Schemel) explores the former Hole drummer's career and struggles with addiction, set partially against the backdrop of the rise and fall of the Seattle grunge scene. Director P. David Ebersole combines interviews with Schemel filmed over a period of several years with archival footage, much of it shot by the drummer herself. Ebersole also features extensive interviews with Schemel's former Hole bandmates Courtney Love (lead singer/guitarist), Melissa Auf der Maur (bassist), and Eric Erlandson (guitarist). The entertaining interview segments with the notoriously unpredictable Love show her at various points talking with her mouth full, sitting with her legs splayed over the arms of the chair she's in, and generally just coming across as a train wreck. These portions scream out for Love to get her own feature- length documentary treatment.

Devout Hole fans will likely find much to enjoy in the wealth of behind-the-scenes footage of the band, most of which has never been seen before. For the rest of us, however, it isn't terribly revealing, offering up the standard music visual document of mundane life in the recording studio and on the road in a variety of bus, backstage, and hotel room settings (there's also some decent live footage). One of the subjects Schemel's video camera captured is Kurt Cobain; she stayed at the residence he and Love shared for an extended period, and we see the Nirvana frontman in some private moments with his newborn daughter, as well as singing and playing an acoustic guitar during a brief snippet. These scenes aren't particularly interesting and will only hold some value for Nirvana disciples.

Schemel joined Hole in 1992 and spent six years with the group, playing only on their lauded Live Through This album. The sections discussing the difficult recording sessions for its followup, Celebrity Skin, are some of the film's most interesting, as we find out that all of Schemel's parts were replaced by a studio drummer (although she is credited in the album's liner notes). Despite battling a drug addiction at the time, Schemel maintains her playing was fine and that producer Michael Beinhorn played head games with her, ultimately turning the rest of the band against her (Beinhorn has a history of difficulties working with drummers). Erlandson, Auf der Maur, and Love all agree that working with Beinhorn was an unpleasant experience and now regret their decision not to show more support for their bandmate, who eventually quit. At a question-and-answer session following a Hit So Hard screening last year, Love said Beinhorn was "still a Nazi f**k" after curiously working with him again on Nobody's Daughter, the 2010 Hole album that didn't include Erlandson, Auf der Maur, or Schemel. After leaving the band, Schemel descended further into drug addiction, unable to heed the cautionary tales of friends Cobain and original Hole bassist Kristen Pfaff (who fatally overdosed a couple of months after Cobain's suicide). By the end of the 90s, Schemel's heroin, crystal meth, and crack habits had left her homeless and turning tricks for drug money.

I found it interesting that whether by choice or not, Ebersole's film doesn't include any interviews with either of the surviving members of Nirvana, nor anyone from the other two biggest 90s Seattle bands, Soundgarden or Pearl Jam. A small collection of other 90s alt-rock contemporaries are interviewed, including Veruca Salt's Nina Gordon, Luscious Jackson's Kate Schellenbach, and Roddy Bottum from Faith No More and Imperial Teen. Ebersole also expands the doc's focal point to probe the role of women drummers in rock history, although the fact that two of the principals interviewed are the drummers from The Go-Go's and The Bangles doesn't add much musical credibility to the discussion, quite frankly. In my eyes, a glaringly obvious omission to any discussion of women in rock, particularly because they're actually from Seattle, are Heart's Ann and Nancy Wilson. Through Schemel's own experience as a lesbian in the music industry, Ebersole also briefly explores the history of gay women in rock and the adversity they've faced.

The documentary's biggest negative is that it fails to present a fully-formed picture of the drummer's post-Hole life. Schemel recounts calling Love for financial help while homeless, but there's no sense or indication from the interviews with Love, Erlandson, or Auf der Maur of whether or not any of them currently have a relationship with her. They all speak warmly and caringly of Schemel; Auf der Maur, in particular, was quite close with her during their time in the band, and it would have been nice if Ebersole had defined this crucial element. One of the things I enjoyed about the movie was that it didn't deliver a seen- it-before ending where Schemel makes a triumphant return to the music business. We see her sober, happily married, and fulfilled with a newfound career in the dog care business. As Ebersole tells it, Schemel essentially abandoned any serious pursuits in the music industry after getting her life straightened out, occasionally playing in a band with her brother and acting as a drum instructor/mentor to young women. Upon further research, however, I found that the director egregiously failed to include the facts that Schemel actually recorded with Juliette And The Licks (the punk band featuring actress Juliette Lewis), toured with Imperial Teen, and collaborated with Love a couple more times: in a short-lived band called Bastard and again on Love's 2004 America's Sweetheart solo album. On the latter, Schemel co-wrote five songs (incorrectly listed as ten songwriting credits on the album's Wikipedia page) and contributed drum tracks to the project.

Schemel's story should make for a more compelling viewing experience than Hit So Hard delivers. The highly likable musician's colourful and harrowing tale make her a primo documentary subject, but the film's incompleteness undermines the end result.

Comic-Con Episode IV: A Fan's Hope (2011)

A missed opportunity...

[6/10 · 9 April 2012]

Considering the treasure trove of weirdness and fascinating material that a massive event like San Diego's annual Comic-Con offers up, it's surprising the convention hasn't received the feature-length documentary treatment until now. Director Morgan Spurlock's Comic-Con Episode IV: A Fan's Hope revolves around the 2010 convention, exploring the evolution of Comic-Con from its origin as an event for hardcore comic book enthusiasts to one that now relegates the actual comic book aspect to the background, with much more of an emphasis put on general pop culture content such as movies, TV, books, toys, and video games. Along with some of the film's high profile producers (Joss Whedon, Harry Knowles, and the unfailingly cheerful Stan Lee), numerous other celebs and artists like Frank Miller, Matt Groening, Seth Rogen, Kevin Smith, and Kenneth Branagh weigh in with their take on the convention. The documentary had a companion coffee table book released last July and is Spurlock's second feature of 2011, following The Greatest Movie Ever Sold.

Incorporated into the probing of the convention's history and relevance are the individual stories of a handful of Comic-Con attendees. There's the two amateur comic book artists looking for their big break into the business, who are willing to endure harsh criticisms of their portfolios from professionals and the sting of rejection. Then there's the couple who met at the previous year's convention, with the boyfriend hilariously attempting to break free from the clingy grip of his girlfriend in order to pick up the engagement ring (Lord Of The Rings themed, naturally) he'll present to her when he proposes during the convention panel featuring filmmaker Kevin Smith. Chuck, the crusty owner of America's largest comics retailer, Mile High Comics, struggles with a decision to sell one of his ultra-rare issues to pay off some debts and generally frets about how his sales at the convention are going. Another man seeks his Holy Grail of toys for his collection, a limited edition figure of Marvel Comics' Galactus character. Finally, there's Holly, an aspiring costume designer for whom a two minute appearance on stage at the Comic-Con masquerade event is the biggest moment of the year. Her and a small group of friends dress up as characters from the Mass Effect video game.

Clearly, with so many examples of arrested development from these folks, there's plenty of opportunity for ridicule here. I mean, what's not to laugh at in a scenario involving a grown, married man who pursues a toy with unwavering conviction? Laughing at, and not with, these people is an inevitable by-product of such fanatical behaviour, but the viewer also can't help but develop some level of respect for the passion and focus the characters demonstrate towards their obsessions, despite the pummelling their individual levels of cool take. As a hardcore fan of U2 and Bruce Springsteen who has, on a number of occasions, spent anywhere from twelve to sixteen hours at a time waiting in general admission lineups at their concerts and gotten puzzled looks from most people when I tell them about it, let me just say that on some level I can relate to these Comic-Con eccentrics.

Despite the interesting subject matter, Spurlock's documentary feels flat and just never achieves liftoff. He has a lot of balls to juggle with the numerous paths the film follows, but many of them lead to unfulfilling conclusions and an uneven movie. I've seen nearly all of his previous film and television work and thoroughly enjoyed all of it and Spurlock, like fellow documentarians Michael Moore and Nick Broomfield, has always taken an active on-screen and narrative role in his projects. Here, the charismatic filmmaker barely appears in the film and provides no narration. Perhaps there's a connection, perhaps not.

The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) (2011)

The most vile and unsettling film I've ever seen...

[1/10 · 9 April 2012]

Hands down, The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) is the most vile and unsettling film I've ever seen, and I am by no means a prude. You can't say I wasn't warned - its predecessor, The Human Centipede (First Sequence), upped the ante in the torture porn genre with a premise involving a mad scientist who abducts three people and surgically sews them mouth-to-anus with each other, leaving the trio with just one digestive tract. Where the hell do you go from there? Apparently, a lot further. Despite my normal disinterest in these Saw-types of movies (and horrors in general), the first Human Centipede had a twisted, novel concept that made for an interesting movie, but not a terribly well-done one. Still, there was just enough there to plant the seeds of interest as to where Dutch filmmaker Tom Six would take its followup. Ohhh, that my scarred eyes could now unsee what perverse sickness Six hath cinematically wrought.

The only good thing I can say about The Human Centipede 2 is the on-the-nose casting of screen newcomer Laurence R. Harvey, a 50ish British performance artist. Both Harvey and his "Martin" character are the epitome of creepiness, with bulging eyes, greasy hair, bad teeth, and obese body. And as if his physical repugnance wasn't enough, Martin is also saddled with an asthmatic wheeze, some sort of mental handicap stemming from every kind of abuse from his now-incarcerated father, and a lifetime of emotional abuse from his constantly nagging mother, who he still lives with in a dingy London flat. It's the sort of character background composition that feels right off a "damaged movie character 101" checklist. Harvey has zero heavy lifting to do as far as remembering dialogue - he speaks no words, only grunting, whimpering, and occasionally cackling maniacally. Martin works as a security guard at a parking garage, where he occupies his time by watching The Human Centipede over and over on his laptop. Yes, that first time around was apparently just a movie; Six's meta concept isn't nearly as clever as he'd probably like to think it is, though. Eventually, Martin snaps and actually starts implementing the movie's ideas, which he's been studiously detailing in a scrapbook. The goal? To "Frankenstein" together a human centipede made up of four times as many people as was seen in the inspirational source. The parking garage acts as a victim supply pipeline - a handful of the guinea pigs are just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but most of them are unpleasant people who rub Martin the wrong way. As an extension of the meta concept, one of the victims includes actress Ashlynn Yennie, who appeared in the first film and plays herself here. I genuinely felt sorry for her, as she once again ends up naked on screen with her mouth sewn to someone else's butthole. Ms. Yennie, please fire your agent.

The Human Centipede 2 made headlines upon its theatrical release last year when it was banned in Australia and the UK (one of only 11 films ever to be banned by British film censors in the last 100 years). Six must have been ecstatic at the free marketing boost the controversy generated for the movie, which was always intended to primarily be a home video release. 32 cuts totalling 2:37 eventually allowed it to be released on DVD, Blu-ray, and video-on-demand in the U.K. The version I saw had all the gore included, including highly disturbing scenes involving a character pleasuring himself with sandpaper, teeth being knocked out with a hammer, scatological trauma, and a birth scene that goes for a payoff so unbelievably wretched you won't believe it. Six is unable to rein in his button- pushing instincts, leaving The Human Centipede 2 as little more than an orgy of sadism that can't disguise the fact it's also really just a super-sized copy of the original. The filmmaker also makes the questionable decision to present the movie in black and white, presumably aiming for a measure of artistic credibility. And God help us all - The Human Centipede 3 (Final Sequence) is now in pre-production.