The Future (USA) Directed by Miranda July  Written by Miranda July   Starring Miranda July; Hamish Linklater; David Warshofsky

There is by now a kind of fully established prototype for a cliched American independent film that seems always to contain a requisite qualifying degree of canned quirk quotient. As one would expect from something arising from the fecund mind of writer/director/actor July, her follow up to 2005s You Me and Everyone We Know, The Future, is certainly quirky, but it’s the kind of quirkiness that marks the film as innovative and truly off center as opposed to merely being another in a long line of the same. Though a film featuring a narrating cat named Paw-Paw (naturally voiced by July) is certainly open to criticism about being overly fey or cutsey, July helps fight this perception by creating lead characters who seem nearly frozen by some sort of depressive malaise that has them operating like hipster robots whose wiring has gone slightly haywire. July’s character, dance instructor Sophie, and her live-in partner, IT guy Jason (Hamish Linklater), become obsessed with concepts of time while considering rescuing an adult cat from a shelter. As they discuss the ramifications of becoming more serious about committing to one another long term, their reflections lead to contemplation about their own individual mortality, and then to focusing on the potential for an impending end of the world. Spurred on by these fatalistic musings, they agree to quit their less than fulfilling jobs to pursue what they posit might be a freer, more rewarding life. Sophie and Jason seem to have some unusual ideas about the nature of time itself, and what exactly they are after is never clearly defined, but their experimenting with dropping out leads them to some unexpected places as individuals and as a couple. Despite the distraction of some of the more fantastic elements of the dream/time-stop sequences, as well as the presence of the cat, there is something deeper at work here about the nature of our mundane existence, the pervasiveness of technology in our lives, as well as ideas about interacting with, and being of service to, the wider world around us. These ideas are related to reflections on our own self-image, and how we actually interact with those around us, particularly those we care most about. July’s background as a performance/installation artist comes into play because her take on narrative is that of an outsider. And there can be no mistaking the fact that this film is guided by a singular voice, which is imbued with some consciousness about the universal nature of artists attempting to communicate with the world. Despite the dark leanings of some of the material, a fitting score from Jon Brion serves to assist in defraying the relative lack of budget and create a whimsical tone. In the same way, it’s the juxtaposition of emotional truth and odd behavior and thought that ultimately makes The Future work.

Midnight in Paris (USA) Directed by Woody Allen  Written by Woody Allen  Starring Owen Wilson; Rachel McAdam; Michael Sheen; Marion Cotillard; Kathy Bates; Adrien Brody; Corey Stoll; Mimi Rogers; Kurt Fuller; Nina Arianda; Lea Seydoux

While Woody Allen’s latest roots itself firmly in another European city (the titular Paris), and also takes off on a fanciful flight back in time, the present day section is more of the same from the master. As screenwriter and would-be novelist Gil, Owen Wilson proves a weak Allen stand-in, and Rachel McAdam as Inez is given little to do as his one note, shrewish fiancee. The plot has the two of them tagging along with Inez’s equally loathsome parents (Kurt Fuller and Mimi Kennedy), while her father attends a business conference. Gil, who is struggling to finish his novel, has tired of his role as a Hollywood hack, and longs to fulfill his earlier dreams of becoming a real writer. Finding himself trapped in the company of soon-to-be in-laws who clearly dislike him, and later, Inez’s girlfriend Carol (Nina Arianda) and her obnoxiously didactic beau Paul (Michael Sheen), he longs to be left alone and gather his thoughts about his book. Mostly as an antidote to his distaste for those around him, Gil takes to walking the streets at night, which magically leads him to his repeated sojourns into the past. Set to a (surprise) jazz based period score, Allen waxes nostalgic for Cole Porter and a collection of other great art and artists of the turn of the century and twenties, finding time along the way to bemoan technology and the speed of modern day life, while eventually presenting (surprise) a young girl with a taste for old things as a potential panacea for all that ails his lead. He also further mines familiar territory with his attacks on intellectualism, right wing republicans, and pretension. While there is nothing wrong with the writing it all just feels very… familiar. Though situated in France, the objects of his character’s scorn are, naturally, American, because at this point Europeans are essential to the continuation of the veteran director’s singular career. None of this means that the film is without its charms, and there is some fun to be had with the various famous artists on display - particularly enjoyable are cameos by Kathy Bates as Gertrude Stein and Adrien Brody as Salvadore Dahli. Others we meet include Cole Porter (Yves Heck) himself;  Tolouse-Lautrec (Vincent Menjou Cortes); Ernest Hemingway (Corey Stoll); Pablo Picasso (Marcial de Fonzo Bo); Edgar Degas (Francis Rostain); Paul Gaguin (Olivier Rabourdin); Henri Matisse (Yves-Antoine Spoto); Luis Bunuel (Adrien de Van); F. Scott Fitzgerald  (Tom Hiddleston); and his wife Zelda (Alison Pill). Carla Bruni even shows up for no good reason (perhaps there was permit trouble?) as a present day (and stunningly attractive) tour guide. Marion Cotillard plays one of Gil’s love interests, and while charming as always, her character’s relationship with Gil, like the rest of the film, is at best, muddy.

I Knew it Was You: John Cazale Directed by Richard Shepard

Perhaps no actor in the history of cinema has a better lifetime batting average than John Cazale. He acted in a mere five films, but each of them rank among the best of what was the finest decade of American film-making. Godfather 1 (1972); Godfather 2 (1974); The Conversation (1974); Dog Day Afternoon (1975), and The Deer Hunter (1978) have several things in common beyond their obvious excellence. Francis Ford Coppola directed three (of the four great films he made); and Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro appeared in two each (which included performances that were among their best). It is a good thing then that we hear from all three men in this solid documentary by Richard Shepard. Pacino, who was also Cazale’s partner on stage, plays the most prominent role on screen. We also hear from Meryl Street, the actor’s wife and co-star in The Deer Hunter (the two met while acting together in a play), a devoted, loving partner who valiantly stayed by her husband’s side through his sickness. An Italian American, Cazale was born in working class Revere, Massachusetts, and grew up in a suburb on Boston’s North Shore. He came to New York to be an actor and spent years on the stage, supporting himself during his early years with a number of part-time jobs, before breaking through in film at age 36. Cazale was the epitome of a character actor, and his iconic roles (Fredo in the Godfather films; Sal in Dog Day; Stan in The Deer Hunter) were all portraits of deeply flawed, highly vulnerable individuals whose actions often seemed motivated by fear. Unlike the characters he portrayed, Cazale the actor was truly fearless, never afraid of exposing a deeply human side of himself that many in his profession were and are afraid to let the world see. His colleagues describe him as a fantastic talent with deeply held convictions. The masterful technique at his disposal was the envy of all those who worked with him. Directors Coppola and Sydney Lumet, and his acting peers (Gene Hackman, Streep, DeNiro, and Pacino) speak about how he consistently made the other actors around him better, elevating the stakes by the force of his talent and dedication. Award winning playwright Israel Horowitz, who collaborated with the actor on multiple stage productions, relates anecdotes about Cazale, who is by and large described as an odd sort. A tireless perfectionist, Cazale could drive directors crazy with his relentless questions, but he was uniformly respected, and his fastidiousness always revolved around his pursuit of truth. It is sad to think of all the great roles Cazale would have enhanced, and the many films that would have been made better for his presence in them.

Beginners (USA) Directed by MIke Mills  Written by Mike Mills  Starring Ewan McGregor; Christopher Plummer; Melanie Laurent; Goran Visnic; Mary Paige Keller; Mary Page Keller; Keegan Boos

Occasionally, one comes across a film that seems to make its case with so little obvious effort that it serves as a reminder that film is still a vital art form in this country. It is easy to be cynical about an industry obsessed with action flicks, animation, and all things 3D and CGI - one that is also turning out fewer and fewer films, but spending more and more on the array of fluff and popcorn movies that do get produced. Beginners comes from writer/director MIke Mills, and is a follow up to his first feature, Thumbsucker (2005). The director reports that the story is based on his experience with his real life father, a man who came out of the closet late in life. Ewan McGregor plays Mills stand-in Oliver, a thirty eight year old graphic designer with commitment issues who is grieving the loss of his father, Hal (Christopher Plummer). Told largely in flashbacks, the story fluidly alternates between Hal’s final few years as he adjusts to his newly gay lifestyle; memories from Oliver’s childhood (young Oliver is played by Keegan Boos) with his quirky Mom Georgia (Mary Page Keller); as well as Oliver’s newly formed relationship with French actress Anna (Melanie Laurent) that takes place in present time. Mills does a nice job balancing the time lines, delving into ideas of identity and how our formative experiences and relationships shape our later life. Laurent is gorgeous, and both she and McGregor manage to evoke the feeling of two adults who have been unable to stick with anyone in the past, but see the other as representing a shot (last?) at lasting love. Mills understands subtlety, and none of the characters feel stock - instead, the interconnections and emotions on display are nuanced and complicated, neither one thing or the other, but rather fraught with all of the personal fears and conflict each individual brings to the table, and the complications that inevitably arise between people who love one another, but share a (and/or suffer from their own) troubled past. Octogenarian Plummer, who continues to work prolifically, is in excellent form. However, Jack Russell Terrier Cosmo, who plays Hal’s former dog Arthur, does his level best to steal the show. His thoughts are seen in sub-titles, mirroring another recent film, Miranda July’s The Future, where a cat speaks in narration.

Super 8 (USA) Directed by J.J. Adams  Written by J.J. Adams  Starring Elle Fanning; Joel Courtney; Kyle Chandler; Noah Emmerich; Gabriel Basso; Zach Mills; Jessica Tuck; Joel Mckinnon Miller; Ron Eldard; Ryan Lee; Riley Griffiths

Super 8 doesn’t try to hide it’s genuflection at the altar of eighties Speilberg. From the opening frame it’s like The Goonies meets Close Encounters of the Third Kind with a dash of Jaws and ET thrown in for good measure. Writer/Director J.J. Adams, an unabashed Spielberg fan, brought the project to the man himself, and the two wound up producing it together. The replication of the time period (summer 1979) is exceptionally done. And for awhile an audience could almost believe that this just might be something the populist, iconic director may have created himself. That is, until the CGI effects show up, and virtually obliterate the many strong elements to previously recommend it. Sure, the kids talk is a little canned and over-sylized, and a few of their performances leave something to be desired, but one can forgive weaker turns from young people in lieu of strong cinematography, story, and sense of place, and when it’s not indulging in overblown action sequences Super 8 has it all in spades. The leads are well cast, with Elle Fanning as Alice Dainard, Joel Courtney as Joe Lamb, and Kyle Chandler as Deputy Jackson Lamb especially hitting the mark. The more melodramatic aspects of Alice’s family story as it relates to Joe’s are a little muddled and stretched thin, although ultimately these kind of details pale in comparison to the overreaching bigness of the aforementioned sequences involving fire, massive shooting guns and tanks, train crashes, car chases, and huge objects hurtling through the air. One thing Speilberg seemed to understand during the period being homaged is that character and story take supreme precedence, and the effects exist only at their service. The frustrating thing about Super 8 is not that it fails to capture the time period and essence of that particular sub-genre of eighties Spielberg, but rather that it does it so exceedingly well, with locations, design, tone, and the interaction with the kids so ably conceived that initially it’s like enjoying an old friend for the first time again. That’s why when the busy, overlong CGId clamor begins to take over, and ultimately to overwhelm and diminish what might have been a solid - even special - story about a group of kids who want to make a movie, it’s all the more disappointing.

Our Idiot Brother (USA) Directed by Jesse Peretz  Written by Evgenia Pretz; David Schisgall  Starring Paul Rudd; Zooey Deschanel; Emily Mortimer; Elizabeth Banks; Rashida Jones; Adam Scott; Steve Coogan; Hugh Dancy; Shirley Knight; Kathryn Hahn; T.J. Miller; Matthew Mindler

Jesse Peretz worked with lead Paul Rudd in the less than successful The Chateau (2001) before the latter became one of the go to guys for big budget comedies. Peretz also made the little seen The Ex (2006), starring Zach Braff and Amanda Peet. With Our Idiot Brother, the director takes a step forward, getting quality performances from an excellent cast, and doing something rare these days - creating a comedy containing characters that at least resemble actual human beings.

Too often the state of movie comedy seems to demand that we settle for either gross out stuff for the high school set, or absurdist parodies that often have a number of funny moments, but ultimately suffer from believability issues owing mostly to a lack of plausible character and plot development. Our Idiot Brother is not to be confused with more nuanced, darker offbeat recent offerings like Greenberg or Cyrus, and it doesn’t have the laugh out loud high points of films like Step Brothers and Get Him to the Greek, but it does manage to remain in a realistic realm while providing a number of laughs.

The basic family set up resembles PT Anderson’s Punch Drunk Love, with an emotionally repressed man-child belittled and steamrolled by strong, aggressive female siblings. The ‘joke’ (ala countless dumb guy comedies) is that heavily bearded organic farmer Ned actually has a lot of down home wisdom and life experience that his three emotionally confused sisters (Zooey Deschanel; Emily Mortimer; Elizabeth Banks) could learn from, if only they could stop judging him and shut up a second that is. We know where this will end, though somehow that doesn’t completely detract from the fun to be had getting there. Sticking strictly to genre conventions is always limiting, though Peretz et al do a reasonable job of creating enough nuances to keep things flowing.

At the open, Ned sells a small amount of weed to a uniformed cop, which winds him up in jail for eight months. The scene verges on the implausible, and immediately one is left wishing the screenwriters (a duo that includes the director’s sister Evgenia) had simply made him a part time weed dealer instead of pussyfooting around it. Rudd does a good job breathing life into a mostly stock character, though the opening arrest and his subsequent incarceration is only the first of several plot points - including his interactions with his p.o.; his walk-in on brother-in-law Dylan (played by a wasted Steve Coogan) -  that stretch the believability of Ned’s naivete to ridiculous proportions.

Deschanel and a dark-haired Banks (who has appeared in five films with Rudd), in particular, do well bringing their own unique energy to the mix, and a nice supporting cast includes Coogan; Adam Scott; and Hugh Dancy. Kathryn Hahn and TJ Miller too are particularly effective as Ned’s fellow hippie ex Janet and her new boyfriend Billy. Our Idiot Brother is a basically well constructed, well-cast entry, though one can’t help but wish those involved had been able to push the envelope a little more and stray off the beaten path.

R (DAN) Directed by Tobias Lindholm; Michael Noer  Written by Michael Noer; Tobias Lindholm  Starring Johan “Pilou” Phillip Asbaek (Rune); Dulfi Al-Jabouri (Rashid); Roland Moler

Set inside Horsens State Prison (closed in real life) in Denmark, R is made in the same general vein as Jacques Audiard’s superior French film, A Prophet. As in Audiard’s film the lead character, in this case Rune (Pilou Asbaek), is a young inmate serving a two year sentence (In Audiard’s film it was six), who arrives at the prison without contacts, and finds himself having to contend with a system dominated by several violent gangs. Despite the fact that he is there for a stabbing, Rune is immediately terrorized by the hulking Mason (Roland Moller), and is soon subjected to various forms of humiliation, and later, forced to carry out jobs for a supremacist gang. Isolated, friendless, and seemingly without hope, Rune attempts to ingratiate himself, scheming with Arab prisoner Rashid (Dulfi-Al Jabouri) to funnel drugs across the prison. Adhering to Dogma 95 aesthetics, Co-directors/writers Tobias Lindhold and Michael Noer paint a fittingly grim portrait, eschewing accoutrements by allowing handheld camerawork, and silences punctuated by violence and harsh noises, rather than soundtrack music and technical flourishes, to frame the environment. They reportedly cast a number of ex-cons and guards to play versions of themselves and the authenticity shows. Where Audiard veered from social realist conventions to create a more epic story, Noer and Linholm stick to a spare handling, concerned only with unveiling a series of procedural events directly involving their lead. If the film ultimately lacks some degree of resonance, it does well detailing an unforgiving, brutal, and dangerous world of barbaric politics in a style as coldly aseptic as the environment it depicts.

Buck (USA) Directed by Cindy Meehl

Buck is the story of Buck Brannaman, the man who both advised Nicholas Evans while researching his book The Horse Whisperer, became the model for Evans’ lead character, and then served as a consultant on, and double for Robert Redford, on his film of the same name. Buck refers to himself as a horseman, but regardless of what one calls him, Buck is a fittingly quiet, leisurely profile of a man who suffered horrendous abuse as a child, but went on to become an expert in his field. Brannaman grew up in the American Northwest, a child performer who, as “Buckshot” practiced rope tricks with his brother, “Smokie,” as part of a famous duo called The Idaho Cowboys, under the tutelage of their vicious father, Ace, who beat the boys mercilessly from the time they were small. There is a wonderful Zen-like message here about the treatment of human beings and animals alike, and who better to understand about the evils of disciplining animals through maltreatment than a human being who was maltreated himself. First time Director Cindy Meehl met Brannaman at one of the many horse clinics (some 1500 and counting) he conducts that take him away from his family for nine months out of the year. Meehl is clearly not after digging into the story with an investigative eye, and there is little attention paid, for instance, to Buck’s brother Smokie, a strange omission given their shared past. An interesting side note is that the brother runs a horseman business of his own, bringing into question whether this omission was financially related, which also calls into question exactly who was controlling the content here. There is also, oddly, no talk of Brannaman’s other two daughters, and we see only wife Mary, and daughter Reata, who rides horses and is described as being just like her father. Still, we do hear from the foster mother and father who took Buck and his brother in, childhood friends, work colleagues, and others, who express a similar awe regarding his inspiring life story and ability to connect, tame, and train horses without resorting to cruel and aggressive treatment. Given to understatement, Buck is soft spoken on camera, but the action with him working with the horses, doing what he does so well, speaks volumes.

Breaking Bad (AMC) Renewed for one more (16 episode) season this past August, Breaking Bad wrapped its fourth earlier this month, and it was as good as any of the ones previous. Vince Gilligan’s marvelous story about high school science teacher/cancer patient Walter White’s (Bryan Cranston) descent into the dirty business of meth dealing has managed to grow into a wider reaching drama about organized crime, money laundering, and federal law enforcement, while managing to keep us tightly invested in the main characters, including Walter’s former high school student/current partner Jesse (Aaron Paul); ex-wife Skyler (Anna Gunn); brother in law/DEA Agent Hank (Dean Norris); and bad guy boss Gus (Giancarlo Esposito). Rather than straining to keep the drama alive, Gilligan et al have, ala The Sopranos, shrewdly kept the story exciting without ruining the plausibility and sense of realism they worked so hard to create in the first place. Though there are some wildly violent action sequences in season four, the drama is always well plotted, never random and over the top, a feat that should not go unrecognized. Though AMC is reportedly having money trouble with the expensive cast of Mad Men and their costly new show Walking Dead draining their coffers, it is good news to know that Breaking Bad will get an extra long final season, with a break in between that should allow Gilligan and staff to come up with a fitting conclusion to one of the best shows ever on the airwaves.

Beats, Rhymes, and Life: The Travels of a tribe Called Quest (USA) Directed by Michael Rapaport

The title comes from A Tribe Called Quest’s 1996 Grammy Award nominated fourth album. Director Michael Rapaport, better known for his acting talents, examines the history of one of hip hop’s most beloved and respected acts. Consisting of founding members Q-Tip (Jonathan Davis/Kamaal Fareed) aka The Abstract; Phife Dawg (Malik Taylor); DJ Ali Shaheed Muhammed; and originally (and then only occasionally) Jarobi White (who is now a chef), the group’s origins date back to when the foursome were teenagers in New York City in the late 80s. Tribe, who brought us classics like Award Tour; Bonita Applebum; Can I kick It?; Buggin Out; and Scenario, was part of a kind of collective that originally consisted of a collaboration with the Jungle Brothers (who they knew in high school) and De La Soul, which they called Native Tongues. Though Native Tongues didn’t actually create much with all of these three groups together, the basic idea took root, and a host of variations throughout the years would include repeated pairings with artists like Pharcyde; The Roots; Monie Love; Queen Latifah; The Leaders of the New School; and Black Sheep, among many others. In fact, the way these groups shared their talents and ideas, and worked on/influenced one another’s projects, helped create the basis for a new style of socially conscious, afro-centric, funk/jazz/soul hybrid sometimes called New School. We hear from a long list of hip hop luminaries, including Common; Marry J. Blige; Mos Def; Adam Horowitz; Talib Kweli; and Pharrell Williams, all of whom cite Quest’s influence on the art form. It is always a bit disturbing to find the subject of a documentary listed in the producing credits, but this never feels like a puff piece, mostly because Rapaport doesn’t shy away from detailing the longstanding friction between the now 40-somethings Q-Tip and Phife Dawg, a fractured relationship that comes to serve as a kind of ongoing storyline propelling the film forward. While unity and brotherhood are certainly legitimate elements of the overall panorama, so to is aging, ego, control, and artistic integrity. Rapaport obviously unabashedly loves the music, but thankfully it doesn’t seem to keep him from painting a pleasingly complex portrait. Tribe as an entity is an interesting amalgam, with the DJing, multi-instrument playing, prolific, perfectionist producer Q-Tip, a member of the nation of Islam, and the sports obsessed, diabetic street kid Phife Dawg, serving as the most obvious contrast in personality and style. While plenty of artistic accolades have come their way over the years, in the end this is a story about a group of real life friends with a shared personal and professional history. The group officially disbanded in 1998 after only five albums, and master sampler Q-Tip went on to pursue a solo producing and performing career (a fact that still rankles Phife), but they have (despite some serious acrimony) gotten together for several tours since then. Their place in music history might be cemented, but mirroring real life, their ongoing and evolving personal and professional relationships don’t come wrapped up neatly with a bow on top. “Yo, Microphone check, one two what is this. The five foot assassin with the roughneck business.” Indeed.