November 2010

Landscape No. 2 (Pokrajina St. 2)

Landscape No. 2 (Pokrajina St. 2) (Director: Vinko Moderndorfer): It must be tempting for Balkan film­makers to take any story, no matter how familiar, and sub­merge it in the region’s troubled his­tory. Surely it will add depth and make the film seem more “important” in the eyes of inter­na­tional critics? In the case of Vinko Moderndorfer’s Slovenian heist thriller, the his­tor­ical sub­plot feels clum­sily bolted on and doesn’t really add much.

Sergej and Polde are burg­lars who spe­cialize in stealing works of art from offi­cials of the old Yugoslav Communist regime, which they hold for ransom. The elder Polde main­tains that their crimes are jus­ti­fied since the Communists looted these art­works from the national gal­lery at the end of World War 2 and they really belong to the Slovenian people. During their latest heist, Sergej impuls­ively takes some cash and doc­u­ments from a safe hidden behind their chosen painting and neg­lects to tell Polde. It turns out that these doc­u­ments have enormous value to the eld­erly General whose house they’ve robbed. They implicate him in the postwar exe­cu­tion of col­lab­or­ators and “traitors” and he’s des­perate to get the doc­u­ments back at any cost. He calls in “The Instructor,” a henchman with whom he’s worked before, to retrieve the doc­u­ments at any cost. The Instructor, once unleashed, is a force very like Javier Bardem’s char­acter in No Country for Old Men, con­tinuing his grim mis­sion even after the General dies of old age. For him, pur­suing the trail means killing everyone from whom he can extract inform­a­tion. He’s not par­tic­u­larly effi­cient or careful as a killer, though, leaving messy crime scenes every­where. He’s helped tre­mend­ously by the fact that the cops think that Sergej is behind the killings.

For his part, Sergej is ignorant of the import­ance of the doc­u­ments. In fact, he’s ignorant about pretty much everything except chasing women. He shuttles between his frumpy but loyal fiancée Magda and the rich and glam­orous Jasna, lying to both of them about the exist­ence of the other. He’s a bit of a louse, and stupid, too. But his beha­viour leads to ter­rible con­sequences for everyone around him, and finally for Sergej him­self, who comes lit­er­ally face-to-face with the crimes of the past.

As men­tioned earlier, the his­tor­ical aspect, though poten­tially inter­esting, is rather clum­sily executed. The recent dis­covery of postwar mass grave sites seems to be on every tele­vi­sion in the film, and Sergej’s gay friend Damjan (played as an out­rageously offensive ste­reo­type) just hap­pens to be researching the sub­ject. It’s never explained why the General would have held onto such incrim­in­ating doc­u­ments in the first place. And the cli­mactic scene con­veni­ently plays out at the site of one of these mass graves.

Nevertheless, Landscape No. 2 is a well-made thriller, and even if it does borrow a little from other films, have an unsym­path­etic lead char­acter, and trade in the worst ste­reo­types about gay people, it’s still com­puls­ively watch­able with some nice styl­istic flour­ishes. Based on the age of “The Instructor,” I’m assuming that the dir­ector was also trying to make some con­nec­tion between atro­cities car­ried out after World War 2 and ones from the more recent Balkan wars, but it’s another dropped thread. If the his­tor­ical sec­tion had been filled out more, maybe with some flash­backs and more of a real mys­tery, it could have been so much more than a main­stream thriller.

7/10(7/10)

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Cold Weather

by James McNally on November 23, 2010

in Theatrical Release

Cold Weather

Cold Weather (Director: Aaron Katz): I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little bit dis­ap­pointed with Aaron Katz’s third fea­ture. I’d been turned away from a sold-out screening at SXSW all the way back in March and had been eagerly waiting for another chance to see the film. Thanks to Refocus, Jeff Wright’s awe­some FREE screening series, Toronto audi­ences (including your nar­rator) finally got a chance to see it.

Doug (Cris Lankenau, pre­vi­ously seen in Katz’s last film Quiet City) has dropped out of col­lege in Chicago and moved back home to Portland, where he shares an apart­ment with his older sister Gail (Trieste Kelly Dunn). Despite his ambi­tion to become a detective, some­thing didn’t work out and he’s retreated to familiar sur­round­ings to regroup. He takes a menial job, working night shift in an ice factory, where he meets Carlos (Raul Castillo), a sur­pris­ingly com­plex char­acter who is nev­er­the­less con­tent with his choice of career. Nothing much seems to happen until Doug’s ex Rachel (Robyn Rikoon) turns up in Portland. She claims to be on a busi­ness trip, in town for some training classes. Over the weeks that follow, the four char­ac­ters socialize and we see what might be the begin­ning of some attrac­tion between Carlos and Rachel. Doug doesn’t seem to care.

And then one night Carlos finds Rachel missing from her motel room, and the would-be detective and his new friend find them­selves with a real mys­tery on their hands. Of course, Katz being Katz, he doesn’t sud­denly turn the film into an episode of CSI. Instead, his char­ac­ters gradu­ally move into action, cracking codes and tailing sus­pects. They’re smart but they seem to realize when they’re relying on methods they’ve read about in books or seen in films. This self-awareness adds a very dry sense of comedy to the pro­ceed­ings, but Katz is also able to gradu­ally ratchet up the sus­pense. The mys­tery is actu­ally pretty well-constructed and not as obvious as it first appears. I also like how in gen­eral Katz leaves details in that other film­makers might take out; for instance, some of the awk­ward silences that happen in con­ver­sa­tions between new friends, or ex-lovers.

But for every detail that the film hands you, it with­holds two more. It’s as if Katz scribbled very hard in one corner of his canvas, and left other huge patches blank. In the end, the uneasy mar­riage of genre film with talky self-aware “slacker” cinema didn’t quite work for me. The abrupt ending seems to imply that the rela­tion­ship between Doug and Gail is more important than the mys­tery they’re ostens­ibly solving. But that rela­tion­ship is even more of a mys­tery than the dis­ap­pear­ance of Rachel. Gail is older, more respons­ible and rational, and she and Doug appear to be close, but they still don’t know much about each other’s lives. Doug is passive to the point of disappearing.

While Lankenau played a sim­il­arly dull char­acter in Quiet City, he at least seemed to come alive in the pres­ence of his love interest. Here, des­pite being sur­rounded by more inter­esting char­ac­ters, he never feels par­tic­u­larly real. Even though her char­acter has less screen time, Trieste Kelly Dunn has a pres­ence that out­shines Lankenau in every scene. And the char­acter of Carlos is so appealing that I actu­ally missed him when he wasn’t on screen. Doug’s abso­lute lack of romantic interest in the beau­tiful Rachel also seemed hard to fathom. There just doesn’t seem to be very much to Doug, and even his attempt to emu­late his hero Sherlock Holmes by smoking a pipe falls flat when he real­izes that, unlike Holmes, it doesn’t really help him think at all.

None of this is to say that Cold Weather is a bad film. It has a great score by Keegan DeWitt, for one. It’s as well-made as any­thing Katz has done, and I admire his reach in trying to go beyond the tra­di­tional lim­it­a­tions of cur­rent American indie cinema. But I think it’s either under­written or else the central char­acter of Doug is just not com­pel­ling enough to care about. I recently watched Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye, another update of the tra­di­tional detective story, and found it com­pletely charming. But it, and other Chandler-esque homages such as The Big Lebowski or television’s Bored to Death, pos­sess razor-sharp scripts and uniquely unfor­get­table prot­ag­on­ists who seem to almost wink at the audi­ence from time to time. Cold Weather, though remin­is­cent of those films, is so low-key that it’s in danger of evap­or­ating right off of the screen.

7/10(7/10)

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NY Export: Opus Jazz

Still holding top spot in the list of best films I’ve seen this year, NY Export: Opus Jazz (review) has just been released on DVD by Factory 25. I received my copy yes­terday and am extremely impressed. Extras include a longer ver­sion of A Ballet in Sneakers: Jerome Robbins and Opus Jazz, the making-of doc that fol­lowed the per­form­ance, as well as the 1958 doc­u­mentary Jerome Robbins’ Ballets: USA, com­mis­sioned by the US State Department. There’s also a gor­geous booklet fea­turing stills and an essay by John Lithgow. It all comes in an attractive slim slip­case. For over­seas fans, you might be pleased to know that this NTSC disc is region-free.

Buy your copy from Factory 25 here

Really the only thing more I could have wished for is a Blu-ray ver­sion, but that’s a minor quibble. Check out some of the gor­geous images from this film in the gal­lery below.

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Requiem // 102 : Minute 13
I wrote a bit about the Requiem // 102 pro­ject a few weeks back. Here’s my meagre contribution.

This moment, cap­tured in minute 13 of the film, is from the “Summer” sec­tion and fol­lows one of the few moments of bour­geois respect­ab­ility in this dark cork­screw of a story.

Harry and Marion have just spent a romantic inter­lude up on the roof of an office building where they are able to look out over the whole neigh­bour­hood of Coney Island and the beach. He encour­ages her to pursue her dream of designing clothes and becoming inde­pendent of her par­ents. He says he’ll help her.

Coming back in through the fire escape door, Marion reck­lessly sets off the alarm that Harry had dis­con­nected and with a mis­chievous grin pulls him toward the elev­ators. They hide as the security guards respond to the alarm, and on the trip down, they make out like horny teen­agers for the security camera. She is the aggressor.

The next time we see the couple, they’re locked in an embrace on the sofa, asleep, sweaty and almost cer­tainly high.

There is love here, cer­tainly. But there is also some­thing else, some­thing more sin­ister. Although Marion at first appears to be the more inno­cent of the two, some­thing about her reck­less­ness in this scene hints at the dark­ness to come.

The inno­cence and freedom of the rooftop, where the lovers fly paper air­planes and talk like shy school­chil­dren, where Harry puts his arm around Marion and kisses her on the cheek, gives way to the con­fined space of the elev­ator, where animal lust takes over and we spy on them through a security camera, a device intended to identify trans­gressors, tres­passers and lawbreakers.

There follow a few more scenes of inno­cence, of what might have looked like pure love between Harry and Marion if we hadn’t already seen a darker side, but the worm is already in the bud.

This essay is a con­tri­bu­tion to the Requiem // 102 pro­ject, con­ceived by Nick Rombes, Associate Professor of English at the University of Detroit, Mercy, as a form of “col­lective, dis­trib­uted film cri­ti­cism.” Requiem // 102 is modeled loosely on Rombes’ ongoing 10/40/70 pro­ject, in which he “reads” three screen cap­tures from a given film taken at the 10, 40, and 70 minute marks.

For this pro­ject, Nick has invited 102 con­trib­utors from across the film cri­ti­cism spec­trum to look at, or oth­er­wise be inspired by, one frame from each minute of Darren Aronofsky’s 102 minute-long film Requiem for a Dream (2000), a movie that unsettled many audi­ence mem­bers when it was first released in cinemas ten years ago.

To learn more about Requiem // 102, check out the project’s About page and/or follow it on Twitter.

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European Union Film Festival 2010

Finally ditching the goofy name (it was pre­vi­ously known as the Eh! U European Film Festival), the European Union Film Festival returns for its sixth edi­tion from November 18th through the 30th at the Royal Cinema. Featuring 21 films from 21 European coun­tries, the fest­ival offers free admis­sion to all films thanks to the sup­port of the various con­su­lates who coordinate the fest­ival each year.

What I love most about this fest­ival, other than the free tickets, is its demo­cratic nature. Each country may only be rep­res­ented by one film, so the usual behemoths of European cinema (France, Italy, Germany, Denmark, Spain) are on a level playing field with the smaller coun­tries (Cyprus, Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania, Slovenia) whose cinema we rarely get a chance to see. Last year fea­tured six films that were offi­cial sub­mis­sions for the Best Foreign Film Award at the Oscars, and although this year fea­tures fewer high-profile films, it prom­ises more dis­cov­eries. Not many of these films have played yet in Toronto, and most likely won’t return, so don’t miss your chance to see what’s hap­pening in some of the less glam­orous corners of European cinema. The price is cer­tainly right. Here are a few highlights:

Les Barons

Thursday November 18, 8:30pm — Les Barons (Belgium, 2009, Director: Nabil Ben Yadir): A group of working-class bud­dies in a Brussels neigh­bour­hood cel­eb­rate idle­ness and the good life, des­pite the dis­ap­proval of the older gen­er­a­tion. I missed this when it played at CineFranco earlier this year, but it looks like a charming comedy set amongst the north African com­munity in the New Europe.

Disco and Atomic War

Saturday November 20, 6:00pm — Disco and Atomic War (Estonia, 2009, Director: Jaak Kilmi): This doc­u­mentary played at Hot Docs this past spring and I’ve heard great things. It’s a slyly comic essay film that explores the hypo­thesis that Finnish TV broad­casts of American shows that reached Estonia during the 1980s helped bring down the Communist system of the USSR.

Landscape No. 2

Thursday November 25, 6:00pm — Landscape No. 2 (Slovenia, 2008, Director: Vinko Möderndorfer): A simple art theft turns into some­thing more sin­ister when the burg­lars also steal a valu­able doc­u­ment from the end of World War II. This was Slovenia’s Oscar sub­mis­sion for 2009.

Be sure to explore the fest­ival web site for more inform­a­tion. The best way to show that Toronto appre­ci­ates European film is to make an effort to see it. Free admis­sion means you have no excuse!

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