Submarine (USA) Directed by Richard Ayaode Written by Richard Ayoade  Starring Craig Roberts; Sally Hawkins; Noah Taylor; Paddy Considine; Yasmin Paige

Based on a 2008 novel by Joe Dunthorne, this British production stars Craig Roberts as fifteen year old nerd Oliver Tate, from Swansea, Wales, a young man with limited social skills who longs to be in a relationship with a girl. The object of his desire is the enticing, enigmatic, eczema plagued pyromaniac Jordana (Yasmin Paige), an elusive creature with a bold streak who becomes enamored with Oliver’s strident devotion to her. The cast is a good one, consisting of the marvelous Noah Taylor (as bored father Lloyd) and Sally Hawkins (as bored mom Jill), as well as Paddy Considine, doing one of his far out characterizations as new age motivational speaker with a mullet, Graham Purvis. Making his feature debut, thirty four year old writer/director Richard Ayaode is clearly a talent to watch, and demonstrates a sure hand in establishing a consistent tone. The precociousness of the younger characters and deadpan delivery of the actors resembles a kind Wes Anderson Rushmore/ Tenenbaums vibe, mixed with seventies American Cinema (think Harold and Maude); with a dollop of Catcher in the Rye for good measure. Once upon a time one can imagine Michael Cera in an American version of the film, doing a riff on his outsider character who’s so square he’s hip (Scott Pilgrim; Youth In Revolt; Superbad et al). Oliver narrates the proceedings with a wry, often skewed view of the world, while trying to capture his beloveds heart, mind (and of course, body) and repair his parents failing marriage. While there are times when the film teeters on either side of the sentimental/ ridiculous ends of the spectrum, for the most part Ayaode manages to keep the ship steady as he attempts to meld emotionally honest performances with highly stylized/fantastic, trappings.

Win Win (USA) Directed by Thomas McCarthy  Written by Thomas McCarthy Starring Paul Giamatti; Amy Ryan; Bobby Cannavale; Jeffrey Tambor; Burt Young; Melanie Lynskey; Alex Shafffer; Margo Martindale

Win Win is writer/director Thomas McCarthy’s follow up to his timely 2007 critical darling, The Visitor. It is only McCarthy’s second film since his debut, The Station Agent, in 2003. His lack of output as a director is likely correlate to the demand for McCarthy’s skills as an actor. Since 2005 he has been a regular on The Wire, and has appeared in films like Good Night, and Good Luck; Syriana; Mammoth; Duplicity; Fair Game;and Jack Goes Boating. The forty five year old director again brings us a drama grounded in realism, but filled with characters in varying degrees of crisis. Paul Giamatti plays everyman schlub Mike Flaherty, a small time New Jersey attorney and high school wrestling coach. Flaherty’s business is failing, but he is too ashamed to let his wife Jackie (Amy Ryan) in on the news. Instead he devises a plan to make some additional income, and along the way comes Kyle, a champion high school wrestler from Ohio, who just might be able to help reverse Flaherty’s flailing team’s fortunes. Solid supporting cast with Ryan, Bobby Cannavale as Mike’s buddy Terry; Jeffrey Tambor as assistant coach, Stephen, Burt Young as client Leo, and a miscast Melanie Lynskey as a drug addicted Mom. The biggest chance taken here though was the selection of non-pro Alex Shaffer, a real life New Jersey High school wrestling champ. It is always a risk using an inexperienced actor amidst a very experienced cast. While Shaffer is noticeably wooden at times, his awkwardness ultimately works for the character, and his obvious ability on the mat helps redeem some of the failings he demonstrates as a thespian. Win Win may not stand up to Vision Quest as a classic high school wrestling film, but Giamatti is his usual solid self, and there are a number of nice moments about family and the importance of love, trust, and fidelity among those in our life circle. Though the lives of those depicted here may be rather small or ordinary in scope, McCarthy recognizes the poignancy to be mined by the day to day struggle to do the right thing.

Meek’s Cutoff (USA) Directed by Kelly Reichardt  Written by Jonathan Raymond  Starring Michelle Williams; Paul Dano; Will Patton; Bruce Greenwood; Zoe Kazan; Neal Huff; Tommy Nelson; Rod Rondeaux

Based on a script from frequent collaborator Jonathan Raymond, Oregon native Kelly Reichardt’s fourth feature represents a departure of sorts, at least in the sense that it is a period piece - however, her austere, no nonsense aesthetic remains, making this a kind of foray into neo-realistic anti-Western territory. Based on actual events, the film tells the story of Stephen Meek (Bruce Greenwood), a man who led a party of settlers in 1845 along the largely untraveled Oregon trail, through the cascade Mountains, with mixed success at best.

Reichardt re-teams with the superb Michelle Williams (as Emily Tetherow), and it is a testament to her and the rest of the small, impressive cast that they participated in a project with such limited dialogue, though the talented Reichardt is obviously the draw. The ensemble reportedly stayed in a hotel that was some two hours from set, and the seamless work of Shirley Henderson, Paul Dano, Zoe Kazan, Will Patton et al, bring a quiet, understated authenticity to the proceedings.

At two million dollars, this is big budget according to Reichardt’s standards, but the director always manages to use her lack of resources as a strength, concentrating on the human beings enmeshed in the struggles she depicts. Shown in a 4:3 aspect ratio, meaning the picture is nearly square, one is forced to concentrate on the small group, their wagons, and animals, as opposed to the panoramic wide-screen ratios of more traditionally composed westerns, employed to encompass the lovely vistas and sweeping plains of the American west.

As always, Reichardt and Raymond are intent on telling stories without neat packaging. The film plays out with Beckett-like minimalism, the repeated shots of the monotonous journey serving as kind of life metaphor. We open with the party knowing they are lost, and throughout the film the group’s choices are obfuscated by the unknown, every decision loaded with possible dire consequences and benefits. Though the ending was reportedly influenced by budget considerations, there is an aptness to a conclusion open to multiple interpretations.

The Adjustment Bureau (USA) Directed by George Nolfi   Written by George Nolfi  Starring Matt Damon; Emily Blunt; John Slattery; Terrence Stamp

Screenwriter George Nolti contributed to one of the atrocious Ocean’s sequels and to The Bourne Ultimatum, and here teams with one of the stars of those two films, Matt Damon, as the writer and director of this fantasy thriller. Based (loosely) on a short story, The Adjustment Team, by the estimable Sci Fi novelist Phillip K. Dick (whose work has been made into films like Blade Runner; Minority Report; Total Recall; and A Scanner Darkly, among others), The Adjustment Bureau’s basic premise is that a celestial group is responsible for dictating the fate of the human race. When life events arise that may alter a complex predetermined course they are called in to make adjustments. Damon is politician David Norris, who meets a young woman, Elise Sallas (Emily Blunt), and instantly feels a strong connection to her. The problem is they is not supposed to wind up together, and the film is about Norris’s attempt to alter he and Elise’s individual and dual destinies. The scenes with Blunt and Damon are witty and charming, worthy of a solid romantic comedy (is there such a thing?). Usually in films of the type the characters and dialogue become lost in the wash of technical details and CGI effects (the budget here was only 50 million), but as a writer Nolfi is clearly concerned with the words, and despite the ’science,’ he stays focused on Damon and Blunt. As good an actor as Anthony Mackie (as Bureau guy Harry Mitchell) is the film lags in some of the sections that have him teaching Norris about what his group does. One can’t help recall the extended sections of expository dialogue in Inception with characters essentially narrating the movie as we go, and there are moments when the whole thing frankly seems a bit silly. Thankfully, however, the film rests with Damon and Blunt, and surprisingly, given the genre, there is real romance here. While the on screen chemistry may not exactly remind anyone of the steamy connection of say a Burton and Taylor, there is a believable something between David and Elisa that makes the stakes seem high, and aids in the film’s timeless feel. Shot by the talented John Toll, the visuals are a plus.

Henri Langlois: Phantom of the Cinema (FR) Directed by Jacques Richard

Following a 1970 documentary entitled Henri Langlois, this French production’s title refers to a man who was not an actor, director, or producer, but whom nevertheless looms as one of the most influential figures in cinema history. Born in 1914, Langlois was a theater owner, a film studies professor, a preservationist, archivist, and museum curator who, for forty years, did his level best to save films from disappearing, educate anyone who was interested in the history of film, screen the best in world cinema to theater audiences, and provide a designed space for the public to experience the many film treasures he acquired throughout his lifetime. He was far ahead of his time when it came to rescuing nitrate celluloid and in collecting not just books and the physical films themselves, but telegrams, costumes, scripts, production drawings, photos, and the like. Starting in 1934, Langlois went about securing and then exhibiting his curated films, screening them wherever and whenever he could throughout the war. He engaged in a kind of battle of wills with the Nazis, protecting American and Russian films they wished to destroy and eventually recovering thousands of seized films, managing to save Blue Angel by trading the German occupiers a meaningless documentary. Langlois opened his museum and began showing films daily in 1948, and The Cinematheque became a home away from home for most of the new wave directors, including Chabrol, Rivette, Godard, and Truffuat, most of whom (along with filmmakers like Rohmer, Berri, Pialat, Garrel, and a host of various individuals involved with Langlois and French film in general) are shown here. The new wavers considered Langlois teacher and father, the man who helped instruct them and nurture their beginnings, schooling them on Dreyer, Murnau, Vigo, Keaton, Chaplin et al, and aiding them in developing the auteur theory espoused in Cahiers and adopted as a rallying cry for the groundbreaking movement. The iconoclastic Langlois was consistently in conflict with the state, who contributed meagerly to his efforts, and were constantly demanding accountability and bureaucratic control. When he was ousted in the late sixties, the new wave directors took to the streets, and the media, leading protests in his defense that eventually led to his return. Langlois was married to Mary Meerson, and had one adopted child. Meerson became his partner in crime, working by his side, and selling art to keep the cinematheque going. Though at its height the Cinematheque had some seventy five employees and sixty thousand films, Langlois died penniless in 1977, all of the utilities in his home turned off, but although his museum was later shut down, his legacy lives on. At one point in the film he says during an interview, “if you feed people crap, they lose their taste buds.” Langlois began when the critical view of the art form was vastly different than it is now. Perhaps as much as anyone, he helped shape how we view cinema, influencing critics, cinephiles, and filmmakers the world over by shaping and enriching our understanding of how to classify and appreciate a history of work.

Apologies for my recent hiatus, but I am back and will once again be posting. Appreciate all the kind words of encouragement.

- The Cinema Guy

MicMacs (FR) Directed by Jean-Pierre Juenet  Written by Jean-Pierre Jeunet; Guillaume Laurant  Starring Dany Boon; Andre Dussollier; Nicolas Marie; Yolande Moreau; Jean-Pierre Marielle; Julie Ferrer; Dominique Pignon; Omar Sy; Michel Cremades

Early on in Director Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s career he made several wildly inventive, quasi-post apocalyptic films. Like Wes Anderson, Terry Gilliam, Tim Burton, or, for that matter, any maker of highly stylized film, the success of the end product is a subjective matter. When the precious formula is mixed properly the results can be stunning. When something is off in the alchemy, however, one can be left with the feeling of being served an undercooked meal. While no one could deny Jeunet’s talent when it comes to set/visual design, MicMacs comes off as a kind of ode not only to classic silent comedies, but also to Jeunet’s previous work. The resulting stew is a bit of a mess with a fanciful plot that seems loaded with a host of unnecessary twists and turns, and comic book villains that fail to compel. While the lead character, video clerk Bazil (Dany Boon) starts out interesting, and there are a plethora of quirky, rubber-faced cohorts (including Jeunet favorite Dominique Pinchon), amusing mechanical contraptions, and beautiful lights illuminating intense color, there is little to invest in, and one can never escape the feeling of having seen Jeunet do it before, and do it better. City of Lost Children (1995) and Delicatessen (1991) were both so innovative and new, the pace so frenetic, the situations so outrageous, that one was able to become immersed in Jeunet’s bizarre dreamworlds. While Amelie (2001) and a Very Long Engagement (2004) contained their fair share of Jeunet’s fetishized design and overall whimsy, the presence of the talented Audrey Tatou, and the subtle intricacies of both stories allowed the fanciful accents to properly manifest as mere complimentary elements. When compared to the early part of his career, these latter two films seemed to represent Jeunet’s growth as a storyteller. MicMacs, however, ultimately feels like a step backwards, with a collection of quirky bits and amusing secondary characters that, with so little else to grasp onto, wind up emerging as the whole enchilada. Despite a promising first half hour and a series of mildly entertaining gags, the story is missing the pathos that bolstered Jeunet’s more successful films with weight to offset and contextualize the whimsy. With MicMacs we are presented with a sloppy, ill-conceived plot that has Bazil avenging his parents death by setting up two arms dealers. Whatever clever touches remain play out like so many disconnected bits, rather than serving the overall tone of a greater story.

Solitary Man (USA) Directed by  David Levien; Brian Koppelman  Written by Brian Koppelman    Starring Michael Douglas; Susan Sarandon; Jenna Fischer ; Imogen Poots; Mary-Louise Parker; Danny Devito; Jesse Eisenberg; Richard Schiff; Gary Costabile; Olivia Thirlby; Ben Shenkman; Jake Richard Siciliano

Recalling a similarly aging lothario, Grady Tripp, in Curtis Hanson’s Wonder Boys (2000), Michael Douglas plays Ben Kalmen, a disgraced car dealership owner who has managed to squander a small empire after having been caught scamming customers through shady business dealings. Though he paid a hefty fine to avoid  prison, his reputation is sunk, and he has been reduced to sleeping with Jordan Karsch (Mary-Louise Parker), mostly because of her father’s powerful local contacts.  His relationship with daughter, Susan (Jenna Fischer) is close - in fact, uncomfortably so as Ben feels the pressing need to recount the details of his latest conquests to her, claiming that this kind of openness is good for both of them. Susan’s protective therapist husband, Gary, sees the unreliable Ben as manipulative and disruptive, and is concerned that he is a bad influence over young son, Scotty, who views his grandfather as a kind of magical force of nature. Ben has traversed his life conning and charming people, but those closest to him have been forced to deal with the aftermath, the path of destruction he has left in his wake. His new-found interest in his daughter has come only after his financial collapse, and he is not above hitting her up for rent money. Ben’s ex-wife Nancy (Susan Sarandon) has settled into a new life, but years later remains somewhat perplexed as to why Ben felt it necessary to ruin what she viewed as a good marriage in the first place. Ben is broke and reeling, and when he is informed of an abnormality with his heart he chooses to ignore the doctor’s advice and keep on with what is working (or not working) for him. When  Jordan demands he escort her attractive eighteen year old daughter Allyson (Imogen Poots) to her campus visit at his alma mater (where Ben is to talk to the dean on her behalf) the nearly elderly Ben is confronted with temptation, as well as his past in the form of old long lost friend Jimmy (real life pal Danny Devito) and new friend, socially awkward sophomore Cheston (Jesse Eisenberg). The inclusion of the college sequences make the comparisons to Wonder Boys even more difficult to ignore, and Solitary Man fails to live up to the  completeness of that film, which was enriched by the marvelous source novel by Michael Chabon. There are any number of good moments here though, and Douglas seems to enjoy playing the rogue, imbuing Ben with a kind of older-rich-guy panache that makes his attractiveness to women at least semi-believable.  Co-directed by the writing team behind Rounders and Knockaround Guys, and also Soderbergh’s Ocean’s 13 and The Girlfriend Experience (Soderbergh Executive Produces here), the film is reasonably modulated and ably lensed, though the draw is clearly the well put together ensemble cast. Kudos to Koppelman and Levien for creating a protagonist who is simultaneously dynamic and virtually morally bankrupt, though ultimately one’s interest level may be determined by how much one cares to devote to such an utterly self involved individual.

The Beaches of Agnes (FR) Directed by Agnes Varda

Agnes Varda has spent her adult lifetime as an artist working with film/video as her medium. That she has made several full length narrative (Vagabond; Cleo from 5 to 7) and documentary (The Gleaners and I) features that are held in high esteem by most serious cinema critics seems almost besides the point when discussing her varied career, because for Varda, exploring her muse, experimenting with form, and continuing to evolve as an artist have all seemingly taken precedence over the desire to make movies for mass consumption and/or creating the kind of accesible art films that consistently garner insider accolades. At age eighty one, she remains an active force, producing photography, art installation, film shorts, and various types of visual pieces that speak, most notably, to issues of sexual politics. Varda’s auto-biographical documentary focuses on her long career and personal life, including her well-known marriage to fellow French director Jacques Demy. The title comes from the origins of Varda’s childhood, and the director cuts from a present day beach photo-shoot to photographs and film footage providing the visuals for her narration. Varda travels to her childhood home, the Belgian North Sea, the coastal town of Sete, and Venice, CA, using the beaches as markers to connect her life journey. Taking locations from her films beginning with her debut La Pointe Courte (1954), she visits the actual places, playing with the theme of life imitating art and vice versa. The film manages to dually translate as both a cogent story of a woman/artist’s life, and an impressionistic pastiche with multi-fold meanings illuminated through its illusive structure. Varda expresses a deep abiding sadness over the loss of the love of her life, Demy (from AIDS in 1990), though she chooses not to address his bisexuality, and how their complicated relationship was affected by his attraction to, and dalliances with, men. Her devotion to his memory imbues the film with a thread-line of emotion, but also leaves a void in a story that may have become something even more powerful with the inclusion of an examination of the particular dynamics of their longstanding coupling. Varda was part of the Rive Gauche or Left Bank filmmakers who preceded the French New Wave, and along with Christopher Marker (famously publicity shy, he interviews Varda here as a cartoon cat with a digitally altered voice) and Alain Resnais created a number of masterpieces with roots firmly planted in classic literature, and sharing a spare, poetic, dissonant aesthetic. Varda’s self portrait demonstrates the factual history of an artist who has remained relevant for over fifty years, but the true beauty lies in its construction, and in an artful rendering that, like the best of the form,  transcends the limits of its scope.

Tulpan  Directed by Sergei Dvortsevoy  Written by Sergei Dvortsevoy;  Gennadi Ostrovsky   Starring Tolepbergen Baisakalov (Boni); Ondas Besikbasov (Ondas); Samal Esljamova (Samal); Askhat Kuchenerov (Askhat); Bereke Turganbayev (Beke)

Taking place in the barren Hunger Steppe in Kazakhstan, Tulpan stars Askhat Kuchenerov as Asa, a young man recently released from the Russian navy, who returns to his homeland with aspirations of becoming a shepherd with his own flock, and finding a wife. To his chagrin, however, the object of his affection, Tulpan, wants nothing to do with him, reportedly because of his over-sized ears. To make matters worse, he is stuck living in a primitive yurt with his empathetic sister, Samal (Samal Esljamova), her nearly silent husband Ondas (Ondas Besikbasov), and their three children. Asa works with brother in-law Ondas tending to his sheep,  but Ondas considers him something of a fool, and belittles him at every pass. The film manages to walk an interesting tonal line, blending documentary-like realism with whimsical comedy, drama, and sentimentality. The film takes us to a rural, isolated part of the world, giving us a taste of the sparse existence of its residents, who live in a place where a transistor radio stands out as being one of the few available modern conveniences. While the story, at times, mirrors the bleakness of the land, there are also plenty of moments of levity and heartfelt emotion. The non-professional actors, mostly going by their real life names, are excellent, and forty six year old writer/director Dvortsevoy, an established documentarian,  demonstrates a sure hand with his first narrative feature, delivering an outstanding cinematic achievement. Director and actors actually lived in this environment for months, which obviously contributed to the authentic sense of place. One of the best films of the year.