Le Donk and Scor-zay-zee (BRIT) Directed by Shane Meadows  Written by Shane Meadows  Starring Paddy Considine; Dean Palinczuk; Shane Meadows; Richard Graham; Olivia Colman

Shane Meadows is one of the UKs best young directors. At thirty eight, this ultra low budget mockumentary is his seventh feature. Though he has made a number of bigger films, which gained theatrical releases in the U.S. , he and producer Mark Herbert (who, along with other producers, appears as himself) have come up with a concept for their Warp Films, which involves shooting features in only five days. Le Donk and Scor-zay-zee represents their first release using those guidelines.  

Meadows and his frequent collaborator and longtime friend, actor Paddy Considine, came up with the Le Donk character when the two were teenagers and have used him in several shorts before this. The nickname is never explained (short for ‘The Donkey’ might be an apt guess), but Le Donk (played by Considine) is a half-witted roadie/wannabe music producer/manager whose life is in shambles. Separated from his very pregnant girlfriend, Olivia (Olivia Colman), his dreams rest with a young overweight rapper, Scor-Zay-zee (played by real life Nottingham rapper, Dean Palinczuk), who rents a room in his house.

The conceit is that Meadows (playing himself) is making a documentary about Le Donk (at one point he references UK doc Southpaw ) and a small crew, with Meadows shooting, follows him from his home to his three day roadie gig for The Artic Monkeys (who appear as well). In the vein of Spinal Tap, Le Donk is exposed as an egotistical, self-involved, misogynistic jackass who argues with Meadows, constantly asks him for relationship advice, and whose true motivation seems to be getting famous himself, despite his claims to want to promote the career of his protege.

The film rests on the awkwardness induced by Le Donk’s stupidity and general lack of awareness as to the folly of his own life. Meadows, Colman, and Palinczuk do well as straight men, and the humor is nicely controlled by the director, who keeps things from degenerating into the absurd. It is evident though that more takes might have refined the humor and allowed for additional improvisation (Considine is clearly enjoying himself), which might have exponentially increased the laugh quotient. One can feel certain scenes left less than fully explored, and in several that include Olivia’s new boyfriend (played by Richard Graham, who edits), the actor (as opposed to the character he’s playing) seems on the verge of laughter in instances where it doesn’t fit.   

The idea is a good one, though, and just right for the squeezed schedule, but perhaps owing to the shooting time it is still paper thin, and at 71 minutes barely makes it as an actual feature. The same was true of Meadows’ previous feature, Somers Town (2008), which (at the same 71 minutes) went into shooting as a short and got extended by the director, a process which may have led him into this kind of further experimentation. The difference was that while Somers Towndidn’t have much of a plot, it benefited from solid characters and a heartfelt, nostalgic tone.

Le Donk and Scor-zay-zeeis amusing and the talented Considine is, of course, solid, but ultimately the film suffers from a lack of depth/complexity. Meadows is known for hard hitting dramas set in the Midlands and no one can blame him for having fun and trying something new, but more time and money might have led to something a bit more palatable to actual paying, theater going audiences.

The White Stripes: Under the Northern Lights  Directed by  Emmett Malloy  Starring Jack White; Meg White

Ex-marrieds, Detroit natives Jack White and Meg White (he took her name when they wed), have always been a bit of an enigma. Sure, their band image (which includes the self-generated rumor that they are brother and sister) may be contrived, but for the most part they’ve managed to maintain musical credibility, withstand the exposure connected to the intense scrutiny of fame, and keep veiled a modicum of the mystery they evidently seek. Part of the reason for the latter might well be the fact that one member of the duo barely speaks, and this documentary does nothing but reinforce that perception as Meg is close to silent during the interviews (she actually requires subtitles when she does talk). In fact, when the two do discuss Meg’s soft spoken quietness and abhorrence of the spotlight (she has had performance anxiety issues, which led to one cancelled tour), she seems on the verge of explaining further, but as if Jack can’t help himself he interrupts. This, their second documentary (the first was Under Blackpool Lights, a concert film) follows the band across Canada during their 2007 tour. We see live clips from the big concerts, as well as the day time shows where they play bowling alleys; rec centers; high schools; pool halls; and parks. Their idea was to play a show in each Province, travelling to some rural, out of way places that normally wouldn’t host a concert of any type, let alone a major rock act. Veteran music video director Emmett Malloy combines black and white photography with saturated color footage to further illuminate the band’s look, which consists solely of the colors red, white, and black. The visuals and performances are interesting and Jack (as he did in the Davis Guggenheim doc It Might Get Loud) talks about using technical barriers (rudimentary guitars; old school amps; extra picks stashed far away from the stage; no set lists, etc.) as a methodology to help keep things fresh, spontaneous, and challenging. The White Stripes back to basics, blues infused punk/garage rock sounds like a mix between Led Zeppelin and Robert Johnson with a little Bob Dylan thrown into the mix. After twelve years and seven studio albums they have proved themselves to be a band who consistently turn out solid work. Still, while Jack White speaks about keeping things innovative and off the cuff, one gets the distinct feeling that this documentary is as ultimately controlled as the band crew’s matching outfits. The idea for the tour was a cool one, the music and visuals top-notch, but we come away with only brief glimpses of who these two individuals are.

Pirate Radio (BRIT) Directed by  Richard Curtis  Written by  Richard Curtis   Starring  Phillip Seymour Hoffman; Bill Nighy; Rhys Ifans; Tom Sturridge; Nick Frost; Emma Thompson; Kenneth Brannaugh; Rhys Darby; January Jones; Talulah Riley; Tom Wisdom; Chris O’Dowd; Katherine Parkinson; Tom Brooke Jack Davenport; Ralph Brown

Pirate Radiotells the story of a British radio station housed on a ship in order to subvert the BBCs refusal to feature rock and roll on their broadcasts. Taking place in 1966, it feels very much like what it is - an attempt to take a set of historic events and contextualize them via a fictionalized narrative. Though there are appealing moments, the film never coheres in the way that successful examples of the type manage to. Rather, there is always a slight strain to the proceedings owing to an inescapable awareness on the part of the viewer of a screenwriter devising character arcs; mini denouements; and a general build in tension. These structural devices seem very much artificially imposed as opposed to organic, hampering the film with a clunkiness it simply can’t overcome. The pace too seems very much off, and learning that the original cut was trimmed by some tweny minutes (following a financially and unsuccessful British theatrical run) is not at all surprising. That is not to say that there is a complete dearth of fun to be had - the most successful aspect of the piece being its re-creation of a group of disparate individuals who have come together to achieve certain (mostly) altruistic ends. The camaraderie and general rebelliousness of the undertaking are joyfully brought forth, juxtaposed (a little clumsily) with the stodginess of the British Pols who would aim to shut them down. Longtime British screenwriter Richard Curtis, directing his second feature, is known for evincing emotions, and his experience with multiple narrative comes into play as he juggles a host of characters while continually feeding us nostalgic glimpses of period British society  through the use of a series of montages. There are too many of them, however, and (as good as it may be) too much music. Seemingly every scene is punctuated by tunes from The Who; Jimi Hendrix; The Beatles; Dusty Springfield; Bowie; The Kinks, et al, with some of the songs ineffectually (whether done with a wink or not) relating directly to the happenings on screen. Curtis employs several of his favorite actors from past films, and the cast in general - Phillip Seymour Hoffman as The Count; Rhys Ifans (Notting Hill)as Gavin Cavanaugh; and Nick Frost (Shaun of the Dead) play three of the djs - is solid. Bill Nighy (Love Actually; The Girl in the Cafe) as the station’s owner is his usual rambunctious self, though Emma Thompson (Love Actually) is underused; and her ex, Kenneth Brannagh (bad guy Sir Allistair Dormandy), a little too cartoon-like. While the subject matter is theoretically compelling, the storytelling is muddled, and the coming of age subplot with newcomer/university dropout (nominal lead) Carl (Tom Sturridge) never quite connects. The Titanic-like section too is unfortunate.

Please Give(USA) Directed by Nicole Holofcener  Written by Nicole Holfcener  Starring Catherine Keener; Oliver Platt; Rebecca Hall; Amanda Peet; Sarah Steele; Ann Morgan Guilbert; Thomas Ian Nicholas; Josh Pais; Kevin Corrigan; Sarah Vowell; Rebecca Budig

Please Giveis only Nicole Holofcener’s fourth feature, a surprising fact given this auteur’s unique voice and talent.  Starting with her 1996 Sundance darling Walking and Talking(1996), she has continued making small, character driven films based on aspects of her current life (or at least recent personal past). Beyond her obvious talents, what makes Holofcener unique is the simple fact that she is an American woman writing and directing her own films, albeit those on the lower end of the Hollywood budget spectrum.

Holofcener favors ensemble pieces populated by female characters, but her alter ego of choice is indie fave Catherine Keener, who had a career making turn in the director’s debut. Keener has shown up in each of Holofcener’s subsequent films, which include Lovely and Amazing (2001) and Friends with Money(2006). Keener seems to inspire loyalty in her directors as several others of note have used her more than once, including Steven Soderbergh (Out of Sight; Full Frontal) Spike Jones/Charlie Kaufman (Being John Malkovich; Into the Wild; Synecdoche New York); and Tom Dicillo (Johnny Suede; Living in Oblivion; Box of Moonlight; The Real Blonde).

Keener’s Kate is a guilt-ridden forty something Manhattanite who co-owns a downtown furniture store specializing in retro chic, mid-20th century design. Married to her business partner Alex (Oliver Platt), one of the main targets of Kate’s obsessiveness is the method by which they replenish their stock - namely, visiting the often clueless grown children of the recently deceased and acquiring their bequeathed furnishings at a low price.

Compounding Kate’s angst is the fact that she and her husband chose, in similar fasion, to purchase elderly next door neighbor Audra’s (Ann Morgan Guilbert - Millie Helper from the old Dick Van Dykeshow) apartment with the idea of knocking down the walls and expanding their living space - a sale that goes into effect upon the woman’s death. The cantankerous Audra is cared for by her grandchildren, sad and lonely radiology technician Rebecca (a purposefully washed out Rebecca Hall) and emotionally frosty, vacuous spa worker Mary (Amanda Peet), and there is a degree of unease between the two families based on the somewhat morbid nature of the deal.

Kate has no problem peeling off bills to the various homeless adults who live in her neighborhood, though she refuses the request of insecure teen daughter Abby (Spanglish’s Sarah Steele) to purchase $200 designer jeans. Kate alternates between making cruel jokes about Audra’s impending death, and sobbing uncontrollably when visiting a local charitable group. The underlining questions regarding Kate’s obvious personal issues (and outward projection) are never fully addressed, but Holofcener is always more focused on the journey than in tying things up in a neat little bow.

Holofcener is also clearly fascinated with questions surrounding wealth and the kind of guilt associated with certain privileged lefties. Her characters enjoy the luxury posessions and status that accompany their financial prosperity, but also constantly muse about their own lives in this regard, regularly making minor social gestures in a shallow attempt to assuage their discomfort.

Female body image is another of Holofcener’s prominent topics, and here we get women struggling with bad skin, a tanning addiction, and even a character (the new girlfriend of the jealous Mary’s ex) called “Big Back”. There is talk of women’s looks in relation to age and weight. At one point Peet’s Mary asks Platt’s Alex how his wife stays so skinny. “She worries a lot,” he says, dryly.

While there is nothing overtly special about Please Give, the acting from the stocked cast is superb, and themes like loneliness, personal duty, and the spirit of charity are visited upon but never confronted directly. Holofcener is satisfied with lightly stepping through the ideas that compel her, allowing her well-drawn characters to speak for themselves.

Whip ItDirected by Drew Barrymore Written by Shauna Cross  Starring Ellen Page; Ali Shawkat; Kristen Wiig; Marcia Gay Harden; Juliet Lewis; Drew Barrymore; Jimmy Fallon; Eve; Zoe Bell; Ari Graynor; Andrew Wilson; Eulala Scheel; Landon Pigg; Daniel Stern

Drew Barrymore’s freshman directorial effort is a semi-successful stab at a girl flick with an emphasis on the grrr. Barrymore clearly has tongue firmly planted in cheek, which contributes to the lightweight nature of the affair, but also makes the film hard not to like. Ellen Page stars as seventeen year old Texas high school student/diner waitress Bliss Calendar, a less quip ready version of Juno. Ali Shawkat of Arrested Development fame is Bliss’ best friend Pash. Playing outsider high schoolers, the two young actresses seem to be genuinely enjoying themselves. In fact, the entire cast appears to be having a pretty good time. The roller derby nom de plumes are certainly fun. Players include Kristen Wiig as single Mom Maggie Mayhem; Juliette Lewis as bad girl Iron Maven; Barrymore herself plays Smashley Simpson; Eve is Rosa Sparks; veteran stunt-woman Zoe Bell, Bloody Holly; and Ari Graynor Eva Destruction. Unfortunately, the plot line with Bliss and her uptight mom, Brooke (Marcia Gay Harden), who wants her daughter to be a beauty queen, feels half-baked and more than a little familiar. Though we encounter a few male characters, including Bliss’ father Earl (Daniel Stern) and Andrew Wilson as team coach Razor, they’re merely around for window dressing - this one is all about the women, and the film is at its best during scenes with Bliss and Pash and the roller derby sequences. Jimmy Fallon (husband of exec producer and longtime Barrymore creative partner Nancy Juvonen) adds a few laughs as announcer ‘Hot Tub’ Johnny Rocket. The story is based on the 2007 book Derby Girl, by Shauna Cross (known as Maggie Mayhem while skating for the Los Angeles Derby Dolls), who adapted her own debut novel for the screen. While this one could have benefited from a script re-write or two, Ms. Barrymore shows that she has a feel for tone and look (vaguely retro and helped in no small part by talented DP Robert Yeoman, Wes Anderson’s go to guy), and unsurprisingly gets relaxed performances from a strong cast. The eclectic soundtrack is a plus, and in a bit of typecasting indie artist Landon Pigg plays Bliss’ love interest Oliver.

Bad Lietenant: Port of call New Orleans  Directed by Werner Herzog  Written by William Finkelstein  Starring Nicolas Cage; Eva Mendes; Val Kilmer; Vondie Curtis Hall; Shawn Hatosy; Denzel Whitaker; Xzibit; Jennifer Coolidge; Fairuza Balk

Director Werner Herzog claimed not to have been aware of Abel Ferrara or his famously NC-17 rated The Bad Lietenant(1992), when making his latest, which seems virtually impossible, even taking into consideration Herzog himself, who sometimes appears to exist in his own universe. Regardless, his film is a re-make, transplanting Ferrara’s story from the streets of New York City to post Katrina Louisiana.

While low budget indie vet Ferrara used some religious iconography worthy of early Scorcese, the overall approach of his lurid tale of a corrupt drug/alcohol/gambling addicted cop going off the rails was mostly grounded in a kind of verite realism. The German Herzog, however, is less bound by the need to replicate a realistic American street feel and employs repeated surrealistic touches to illustrate various shades of his protagonist’s inebriation and overall psychosis.

Though the narrative journey is similar for the leads in each film, Harvey Keitel’s singular performance was a muscularly unforgettable turn, rivaling the best of his long and successful career. How can one forget his naked bedroom dance? Whether hitting the crack pipe, masturbating in front of a pulled over motorist, or frantically betting Mets games on a street pay phone, his character was probably as poorly behaved as any police officer depicted on screen in the history of cinema, a precursor for Denzel Washington’s magnificient miscreant, Alonzo, in Anton Fuqua’s Training Day.

With his stooped posture, comb over, bugged eyes, and pasty skin, Nicolas Cage, as Officer Terence McDonagh, the 44 magnum toting wild man, moves through the film like a Zombie in desperate search of a final resting place. His hang dog face and strangely inconsistent accent only add to the odd characterization. McDonagh, in agony from a past spinal injury (incurred during the flooding), shuffles through the streets of this tortured, beleagured city, numbing his physical pain with a concoction of drugs and alcohol that would kill the proverbial horse. His relationship with prostitute, Frankie (Eva Mendes), is treated matter-of-factly (of course, a guy like him would date a hooker, right?), and he rolls from one immoral act to another with a kind of grim determination, as if each has been predetermined and he was given little say in the matter.

Herzog’s version is the inferior of the two films, and (despite the directors protestations of ignorance) it’s impossible to view without seeing it through the prism of the first. Ferrara’s film remains woefully underecognized and underrated, perhaps because of its sheer raw, unapologetic brashness. While Ferrara is entirely New York, Herzog is an outsider to this country, and obviously New Orleans, and his film reads like someones version of a waking dream. In Cage, he has found his perfect leading man (well, leaving out Klaus Kinski) - an actor who has spent most of his career working in big budget schlock, but can still be oddly (with an emphasis on the word) captivating given the right part. The film is a kind of playground for the two, though how much synchronicity their individual solo toilings ultimately achieve is certainly open to debate. 

No doubt there are moments of black humor in Herzog’s film that equal those in Ferrara’s, though perhaps the concluding scenes devolve into something we’ve seen too many times before. Overall, both films are on the sloppy side, and ultimately amount to stages for their leading men to let it all hang out. Herzog frankly seems more interested in the iguanas that appear on screen than in developing any kind of taut narrative, and while his film is more of a procedural than the original, both criminal cases run secondary to the utter disintegration of the respective main characters. While Ferrara is taken with Catholic guilt and redemption, Herzog is disinterested in that path, and perhaps even disdainful of it.

Though the supporting cast is a good one, there is little room for anyone else to shine. Fairuza Balk does her level best in a small role, though Val Kilmer is wasted as a fellow cop.

35 Shots of Rum(FR/GE) Directed by Clair Denis  Written by Clair Denis; Jean-Pol Fargeau  Starring Alex Descas; Mati Diop; Nicole Dogue; Gregoire Colin

The brilliant Clair Denis has long been interested in Africa, and in exploring other cultures living in France or in French run colonies. Here, paying tribute to the great Japanese director Yasujiro Ozu, and specifically his film, Late Spring (which explored one of his recurring themes), she looks at a widowed, middle-aged African immigrant railway conductor Lionel (Alex Descas), who resides with his adult daughter, Josephine (Mati Diop), in a run down project located outside of a Paris. While race is clearly an inherent aspect of the film’s subtext, as well as being a subject with particular current relevance to the setting, the story concentrates on the simple everyday lives of Lionel and Josephine, a social science student at a nearby university. While nearly all of the faces we see in the film are brown-skinned, in terms of plot this fact winds up being merely an incidental one. At its root, 35 Shots of Rumis a love story about a father and daughter, and specifically, the close, inter-dependent bond they’ve managed to forge. The quiet, hard to read Lionel seems to carry with him some heavy air of regret and sadness, a countenance which may or may not be directly attributable to his wife’s death. Nearing retirement, he counts on his doting daughter to assist him in maintaining a fixed daily routine. His reliance on, and poignant devotion to, his daughter, seems to be the one thing in his life Lionel considers to be tangibly meaningful, despite the obvious devotion of neighbor/ex-girlfriend Gabrielle (Nicole Dogue), a chain smoking taxi driver with a bright disposition. Handsome young Noe (Gregoire Colin) has entered their sphere as well, and despite he and Josephine’s efforts to keep their romantic relationship separate from Lionel, their growing feelings for one another seem to augur traumatic disruption of one kind or another. As elegant and seemingly straightforward as this film might be, Ms. Denis’ efforts are never simple, and there is an opaqueness to the characters and events, as nothing is explicitly revealed, and back-story details are only reluctantly meted out. The story is about loss and love and regret, but it is minus those heavy, dramatic scenes where the characters confront one another or get to the bottom of what is bothering them. Instead, we are left with exquisite moments of subtlety, when loving gestures are mixed with disappointment and confusion, and characters experience conflicting emotions they likely couldn’t fully articulate were they to try (which most of the time they don’t). Ms. Denis elicits wonderful, natural performances from the cast, and the camerawork (from DP Agnes Godard) is marvelous. Another work of art from one of the few masters of cinema working today.

Beeswax (USA) Directed by Andrew Bujalski  Written by Andrew Bujalski  Starring Till Hatcher; Maggie Hatcher; Alex Karposky; Anne Dodge; Katy O’Connor; David Zeller; Kykle Henry; Christa Moore; Janet Pierson

Thirty two year old writer/director/editor Andrew Bujalski might well be considered the grandaddy of the mumblecore movement. His debut Funny Ha Ha (2002) set in motion the creation of a series of low tech offerings made with small crews and featuring twenty-somethings with communication issues. While Funny Ha Ha was set in Boston (Bujalski grew up in a nearby suburb) and his second, Mutual Appreciation (2005), takes place in Brooklyn, his third feature Beeswax is set in his adopted home, Austin. This western mecca of all things hipster serves as a fitting backdrop for another of Bujalski’s examinations of interpersonal relations among the young and slackerish. Per usual, Bujalski casts non-professionals, including several Austin based film professionals usually found behind the camera. The leads are real-life twin sisters Tilly (Jeannie) and Maggie (Lauren) Hatcher. Jeannie is a parapalegic owner of a funky used clothing boutique. Between jobs and boyfriends, Lauren is floating, searching for her next move. Jeannie fears that her partner in the business, Amanda (Anne Dodge), might sue her (why is never exactly explained) so she enlists ex Merrill (Alex Karposky), who is studying for his impending bar exam. Shot in 16mm by regular collaborator Matthias Grunsky, the look has progressed since Bujalski’s first film. This time out, there is also an actual plot, albeit an understated, somewhat obscure one. The tension is present, though it is consistently subverted by a concentration on small conversations illustrating the interconnectiveness of the sisters and the people in their lives as opposed to focusing on an escalating trail of events, something Bujalski could care less about and basically eschews. Though there are the usual hems and haws and verbal stumblings layered into the dialogue, what is of primary importance to this director is what we discern between these stilted lines.

Greenberg(USA) Directed by Noah Baumbach  Written by Noah Baumbach  Starring Ben Stiller; Great Gerwig; Rhys Ifans; Jennifer Jason Leigh; Chris Messina; Mark Duplass; Susan Traylor

The film world is awash with debate over the current state of distribution. In recent years, a movement called Mumblecore has been defined by films made with ultra low budgets, shot on video (or 16mm film), using improvisational techniques, and starring mostly non-professional twenty-somethings. The name is derived from the fact that many of these characters speak in a halting, tentative way, uncomfortably relating to the opposite sex, forever “mumbling” their half articulated thoughts in an embarrassed, self-effacing manner.

While Mumblecore films are produced on paltry micro-budgets, forty year old writer/director Noah Baumbach has had his own trouble getting his indie offerings financed and to the screen. Despite the critical accolades much of his work has received, the audience for the personal projects he seems intent on creating is perceived to be of the relatively limited variety. Baumbach has a personal friendship with director Wes Anderson, and has collaborated on his screenplays for The Life Aquatic and Fantastic Mr. Fox (supplanting Owen Wilson as Anderson’s writing partner). His appeal is thought to be less wide than Anderson’s, however, and perhaps only his ability to cast stars has allowed him to continue to make theatrically released films at all.

Starting with Kicking and Screaming (1995), Baumbach has turned out a series of dialogue driven character pieces focusing on educated intellectuals who are sometimes witty, but most often not altogether likable. Baumbach has had his heartbreaks, including Highball (1997), a film in which he removed his name due to a dispute with producers. Low budgeter The Squid and the Whale (2005) brought him rave reviews, festival/ critics awards, and an academy nomination for best screenplay, but Mr. Jealousy (1997) and Margot at the Wedding (2007) easily elicited as much intense criticism as they did praise.

The son of two writers/film critics and husband of indie darling/actress Jennifer Jason Leigh (who is given producer/story/acting credit here), Baumbach has spent a lifetime immersed in books and film. His characters are often writers, and subjects like infidelity, depression, and artistic relevance recur throughout his work. He is clearly influenced by European art cinema, and like his friend Anderson, seems to have an affinity for British rock, retro styles from the 70s, and literature. Apparently, Baumbach has also recently become enamored with the Mumblecore movement, befriending the acting/directing Duplass Brothers (Mark appears here in supporting role) and employing director/actress/resident siren Greta Gerwig as his female lead.

Brooklyn native and resident Baumbach sets this film in Los Angeles. An ex musician who enjoyed a brief run of success in his early twenties, the titular Roger Greenberg is now a carpenter who has relocated to L.A. (an L.A. native, he has been in New York for twenty years) following his release from a mental hospital. Medicated, still reeling from his nervous breakdown, he takes up residence in the home of his rich and successful brother Phillip (Chris Messina), who has travelled to Vietnam with his wife and kids. It’s while crashing at his siblings expansive abode that Roger meets twenty-something Florence (Gerwig), a slightly awkward, naive, and wounded young woman who works as a babysitter and personal assistant for the family.

Roger is anti-social, neurotic, paranoid, and fairly seething with hostility. While beginning an odd romantic relationship with Florence, he also attempts to reconnect with his ex-band-mates, including old best friend Ivan (Rhys Ifans), and ex-girlfriend Beth (Jennifer Jason Leigh). He soon finds that the fixed ideas he maintains about the past are not even remotely shared by those he was closest with, calling into question his memory of that time, and thus the assumptions upon which he has constructed his rather desperate existence. The humor is biting, and though tightly scripted Baumbach’s writing was clearly influenced by Mumblecore depictions of fumbling conversations. The very speech patterns, as well as the weirdly cold sex scenes, smack of the work of Andrew Bujalski, Joe Swanberg, and the aforementioned Brothers Duplass. 

Stiller, wild-haired and skinny, is as good as he has ever been, and Gerwig benefits from better production values, an actual script, and a director who knows actors. Her trademark naturalism is then thankfully enhanced as opposed to stilted, demonstrating that Baumbach knew what he was getting with her pretty, open face, blonde hair, and large boned, imperfect body, and had no intention of making her conform to a more stylized product or disrupting her easy, unaffected style. Her character is a kind of antidotal Annie Hall to Stiller’s nebbishy, though exponentially more hateful Alvy Singer, a marooned human being who can’t imagine why on earth this young woman might possibly be interested in him, let alone want to share in his decidedly uncertain future. At one point he even chastises her for not being “a divorced thirty-something with kids and low expectations”.

Shot by Harry Savides (Milk; Zodiac; American Gangster; Elephant),Gus Van Sant’s regular cinematographer, the film captures the wide open, sunny look of LA, which is contrasted by the New York City (of our imagination) that Roger (and Baumbach himself) is accustomed to. This fish out of water aspect of the film informs a series of running gags, and is also a metaphor (or perhaps an outgrowth?) of Roger’s inner life. Aging, alone, pathologically self-involved, and slightly off-kilter, Greenberg is fairly bursting with regrets from his past failures. Perhaps, in light of this fact, he also harbors a strange resentment for the younger generation. An avowed Luddite of sorts, who doesn’t drive, writes angry protest letters to corporations, among other things, Roger is opposed to change, the speed of modern life, and resents anyone who would expect anything of him.

Part of what is fascinating about Baumbach is his ability to secure name actors like Eric Stoltz, Jeff Daniels, Laura Linney, Nicole Kidman, and Ben Stiller to embody fiercely unlikable lead characters. Some of the vitriolic response to Baumbach’s work seems to arise out of a reaction to these arrogant, semi-abhorrent intellectual types, though this very fact separates Baumbach from his peers, differentiating his work from other modern American directors of cinema. The wrongheaded and misguided criticism levied at this talented auteur for failing to signpost and tailor his films to fit into mainstream conventional constructs  illustrates the pervading influence the Hollywood product has on this country’s audiences and critics alike. Baumbach should be treasured in the same way we look upon The Coen Brothers, Wes & PT Anderson, and Van Sant - directors who are among the best we have to offer.

The Runaways(USA) Directed by Floria Sigismondi  Wriiten by Floria Sigismondi  Starring Dakota Fanning; Kristen Stewart; Michael Shannon; Stella Maeve; Alia Shawkat; Tatum O’Neal; Brett Cullen; Scout Taylor Compton; Keir O’Donnell; Brendan Sexton

In her first feature, Italian writer/director Floria Sigismondi, a photographer and video artist, chose to adapt lead singer Cherie Currie’s autobiography, Neon Angel: A Memoir of a Runaway, to tell the story of the all teenage girl band The Runaways. Despite the inclusion of some of the requisite drugs and sex, as well as the presence of an outrageous, meglomaniacal puppetmaster (Michael Shannon as Kim Fowler), something here feels vaguely sanitized. It’s as if the film is messy, but not messy enough.

Troubling too is the overly narrow focus, which would have us believe that lead singer Currie (Dakota Fanning) and guitarist/singer Joan Jett (Kristen Stewart), one of the film’s executive producers, were the only group members sufficiently worthy of exploration. Forget the fact that Lita Ford (Scout Taylor Compton) went on to become a famous solo performer, or that drummer Sandy West (Stella Maeve) wound up leading a life denoted by serious drug abuse, lesbianism, and prison, the two female stars dominate the allotted screen time, thus reducing the potentially fascinatingly and complicated dynamics to a more simplistic and straightforward tale of two individual (albeit intersecting) characters and story-lines.

In fact, due to a legal issue, a composite character, Robin (a woefully underutilized Allie Shawkat), was created to represent real life original bass player Jackie Fox. Interesting actors in supporting roles such as Tatum O’Neal (as Cherie’s Mom); Keir O’Donell; and Brendan Sexton are there and gone before we get a chance to figure out who their characters are. The relationship between Cherie and her sister Marie (Riley Keogh), the twin who got left behind, is potentially compelling, but also winds up under-developed.

Sigisimondi employs her photographic talents to create an authentic period feel, replete with visuals that are muddied just enough that we can practically smell the band’s cigarette smoke breath and the performance sweat emanating off their capes and leather pants. Cinematographer, Belgian Benoit Debie (Irreversible; Day Night Day Night; Innocence) is controversial French director Gasper Noe’s frequent collaborator, and the attention paid to the look is evident. One wishes that the script from both a dialogue and structural standpoint came anywhere near being as innovative or interesting.

The acting is generally solid with Stewart particularly strong as Jett. Given more to do, the performance would likely have shown to be fuller and deeper as Stewart is clearly an actor focused on the internal. Many of the subtleties of her representation are unfortunately lost, however, in a series of banal scenes that fail to dig down deep to the abhorrent underbelly of exploiting young teenage women in the pursuit of a dollar. While the film, to its credit, avoids the preachiness that might have pushed this toward movie of the week territory, one can’t ignore a kind of soft serve handling that seems to shy away from testing the limits of a topic open to true cinematic commentary.

Whether fears about ratings and marketing, and/or Jett’s inclusion as executive producer (her view of Fowler’s exploitation differs greatly from other band members) contributed to a more homogenized  perspective or not is open to debate, but all former members agree that drug and alcohol abuse, sex, and manipulation of various kinds were a part of the ride, and one is naturally faced with a host of questions regarding the band members ability at the time to make their own decisions, as well as the complicity of all adults (including parents; Fowler; record company execs; handlers; roadies) who were present during the experience.  

Sigismondi clearly understands the sexual politics here, and it is not as if she ignores Fowler’s mistreatment of the band members, or the questions of period female empowerment in the music industry/society as whole, and while the band’s short-lived run (only 3 1/2 years) contributes to a successful fight against the kind of episodic torpor often besetting biopics, there is a certain sense of immediacy missing from the package that should be very much a part of this kind of verite attempt.

Ultimately, former bassist Vicky Tischler Blue’s (known as Vicki Blue) 2005 documentary Edgeplay: A story About the Runawaysprobably stands as a better representation of the phenomenon of a band that, in its original form, made only three (The Runaways (1976); Queens of Noise (1977); Live in Japan (1977) albums (and several with other members), and had only one real hit (Cherry Bomb), but are still remembered for the major cultural impression they stamped upon various parts of the world.