Author Archive for James McNally

Wild Combination

Wild Combination

Wild Combination (2007, Director: Matt Wolf): Until about a year ago, I’d never heard of Arthur Russell. A classically-trained cellist who died at the age of 40 in 1992, Russell was in danger of falling into obscurity. But then something wonderful happened. Those closest to him began to re-release some of the music he created and suddenly a man who seemed out of his time while alive began to influence a new generation of musicians. The 2004 compilation Calling Out of Context is a good place to begin. It was around the time of that CD release that director Matt Wolf became familiar with Russell, and decided to make the film.

Russell was born and raised in Oskaloosa, Iowa, but ran away to San Francisco while still in his teens, where he joined a Buddhist commune. It was in San Francisco that he made the acquaintance of Allen Ginsberg, and the two remained friends and collaborators for years to come. Russell soon followed Ginsberg to New York, where he soon become part of the artistic landscape at The Kitchen. Part of the avant-garde scene that included Philip Glass, Russell wrote and performed here regularly, often singing along with his cello-playing. It was during this period that Russell began to acknowledge his homosexuality, eventually meeting and falling in love with Tom Lee, who was (and remains) a tireless supporter of his work. His involvement in the gay scene introduced him to underground discotheques, and soon he was writing dance music under aliases such as Dinosaur L, Indian Ocean and Loose Joints. Though he achieved some modest commercial success with these records, he never really made a breakthrough, perhaps because his talent was too big to be confined to one type of music. The film features a generous selection of his work, and it ranges from avante-garde to dance to pop to folk rock, all of it accompanied by Russell’s utterly unique singing voice. He used his voice as another instrument but it gave all of his music a slightly odd quality, making it commercially unappealing at the time. It didn’t help that he was a perfectionist, rarely feeling that a record was “finished” and making it extremely difficult for him to take direction from others. Later in his life, he began to exhibit symptoms of paranoia, feeling that other musicians were stealing his ideas.

Matt Wolf has made an immersive film that rightfully foregrounds the music, often accompanying it with evocative scenes of the vast Iowa landscape that seems to have informed Russell’s work. Another musical theme was the expansiveness of water, and perhaps it was this desire for open space that led Russell to spend so much time on the Staten Island Ferry, scenes which Wolf has recreated by filming with vintage video cameras. I had a mixed reaction upon learning that so much of the “archival” footage in the film was recreated. As Wolf explains, there just wasn’t that much real archival footage to work with, but I think I would have preferred that the film itself carried some disclaimer that the footage wasn’t authentic instead of having to hear it from him in the Q&A. But don’t let that stop you from seeing the film. For those with some familiarity with Arthur Russell, it will fill in the picture behind the music, but more importantly, it will help you to introduce the work of this undisputed genius to your friends.

Here is the Q&A with director Matt Wolf from after the screening:


Duration: 13:43

Official site of the film
Teaser

8/10(8/10)

At The Death House Door

At The Death House Door

At The Death House Door (2008, Directors: Steve James and Peter Gilbert): Directors Steve James and Peter Gilbert won were nominated for an Oscar for their work together on Hoop Dreams in 1995, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if their latest collaboration isn’t recognized with at least a nomination at Oscar time next year. At the Death House Door introduces us to Reverend Carroll “Bud” Pickett, a retired Presbyterian minister in Huntsville, Texas. As he recounts, Huntsville used to be known for the rodeo, but over the past forty years or so, it’s become famous for all of its prisons. Reverend Pickett never intended to become a prison chaplain, but that’s what he ended up doing. For 15 years during the 80s and 90s, he served as the “death house” chaplain, the man with whom condemned prisoners spent their last day on earth. He would sit with them during the day, listen to whatever they wanted to say, eat their last meal with them, and, when the time came, just after midnight, accompany them the short walk into the room where they would be strapped down and lethally injected. Reverend Pickett did this 95 times, and after each execution, he came home and recorded an audio cassette with his thoughts. Unable to share the pain of this ministry with his family, and prevented by his hard Texas upbringing from crying freely, he poured his heart out for the tape recorder instead. Remarkably, with a few exceptions, he had never listened to these tapes again after making them.

Meanwhile, Maury Possley and Steve Mills, a pair of investigative reporters from the Chicago Tribune had begun writing a series about possible cases of wrongful execution. One of the stories they uncovered was that of Carlos DeLuna, a young man from Corpus Christi, Texas, who was convicted of the 1982 stabbing death of a gas station attendant. The police found him hiding under a truck shortly after the stabbing, and although he had no blood on him at all, and claimed innocence, he was arrested, tried, and convicted. DeLuna maintained his innocence and claimed that an acquaintance, Carlos Hernandez, was responsible for the killing, although no one, even his lawyers, listened. In 1989, he was executed at the young age of 27. Reverend Pickett was with him when he died, and despite claims that lethal injection is quick and painless, he reported that DeLuna didn’t respond to the first drug, a sedative, and took 11 long minutes to die.

Possley and Mills visit with Pickett and discover his archive of tapes. He tells them that of all the prisoners he knew, DeLuna was the one that he was convinced was completely innocent. Over the years, the strain of the job had nagged him, but especially the notion that he was party to the execution of an innocent man. Although he had been a strong proponent of the death penalty when he started the job, after accompanying so many men to the death chamber, his opinion had completely changed. Whether they were guilty or innocent, Pickett cherished the time spent with the men, even as it strained him to be so powerless over their fates.

We spend the majority of the film with Reverend Pickett, certainly a fascinating character, but there are some other characters, including DeLuna’s sister Rose, who still lives with the guilt that she should have done more. Pickett also introduces us to a younger colleague who worked as a death house guard until the strain of working in an institutional death factory drove him to a breakdown. Texas has executed more prisoners than any other state and it’s clear that capital punishment is not deterring anyone. Not only that, it’s creating more victims as we see the families of prisoners suffer. Worse, it dehumanizes everyone involved in the process, from the prisoner himself to the prison guards and chaplains who work for the state.

In one chilling scene, the camera floats around the prison as Texas executes its 400th prisoner. We watch from a distance as the man’s family are allowed access into the prison for their last visit, and then we see the guards bringing out the man’s personal effects in bags and dumping them outside the gates like so much garbage. Soon the man’s body will be taken out in much the same way. It’s heartbreaking.

Even as he came to strongly disagree with capital punishment, Reverend Pickett continued his ministry to these condemned men, firstly because he “wasn’t a quitter,” but more importantly, because they needed a friend at this moment, someone who would be there right until the end, even as their families were banished. Sadly, he informs us that the Texas prison system recently changed the system. Instead of having 18 hours with the prisoner, now they’re brought into the death house at 4:00pm, showered, fed, and then executed at 6:00pm. The chaplain barely has time to say a few words. One wonders if this change is meant to inflict even more pain on the prisoner, denying them any meaningful human contact at all.

At the Death House Door is deeply meditative, due in major part to the character of Reverend Pickett, a man who has been indelibly marked by his work. It has made him question his politics, his opinions, even his faith. It has estranged him at times from his wife and his children. But he made these sacrifices because he truly believes no one should die alone. Wherever you stand on the question of capital punishment, this film will make you think about the people we ask to do the unthinkable.

Here is the Q&A with directors Steve James and Peter Gilbert from after the screening:


Duration: 16:25

Offical site of the film
IFC’s Screening Party Kit
Trailer

9/10(9/10)

Baz Luhrmann: From Set to Screen

This may be old news to some, but I’ve just discovered Apple’s wonderful Set to Screen series of podcasts. As part of their Education website, Apple has teamed up with director Baz Luhrmann (Moulin Rouge!, William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet) to explore all aspects of creating a feature film.

The film in question is Luhrmann’s Australia, a period piece about an English aristocrat (Nicole Kidman) who inherits a ranch in rural Australia just before World War II. Hugh Jackman also stars. I’d actually heard little about the film as well (what sort of film blogger can I claim to be?), so it’s a good promotional move for Luhrmann to build interest in the film, which will not be released until November.

The educational aspect involves presenting a creative challenge at the end of each podcast, which students have to complete. Winners are chosen and prizes awarded.

I’ve yet to watch these, but am looking forward to checking them out in more detail.

Man On Wire

Man On Wire

Man On Wire (2008, Director: James Marsh): Winner of both the Grand Jury Prize: World Cinema Documentary and the World Cinema Audience Award: Documentary at this year’s Sundance Film Festival, James Marsh’s stunning film brings an inexplicably obscure story to life in a fresh and exhilarating way.

On August 7, 1974, a young French wirewalker named Philippe Petit spent 45 minutes suspended on a wire between the two towers of the World Trade Center. He made eight crossings before the police convinced him to return to safety. Though this story, according to the director, is part of New York City folklore, not many people outside the city seem to know anything about it. But what a fantastic story, and Marsh does a masterful job in telling it, mostly by letting Petit and his companions bring it to life.

Petit is a fascinating figure. An accomplished juggler, wirewalker, and pickpocket(!), he had supported himself since his teens by working as a street performer. A born storyteller, he brings the narrative alive, even almost 35 years after his great “coup.” But best of all, Marsh gathers all Petit’s accomplices as well and has each of them recount their own part in the story. Some were steadfast, like his lover Annie and his childhood friend Jean-Louis, and others fickle and cowardly, like Americans David Foreman and Alan Welner, who both abandon the quest at the crucial moment. All tell their stories candidly and all still seem enveloped in wonder that such a thing could be accomplished.

Petit and some of his companions had already planned and executed two other audacious feats of wirewalking, first at the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and then on the Sydney Harbour Bridge in Australia. But the Twin Towers had obsessed Petit ever since he’d read about plans to build them, and the team’s preparations are carried out like the planning of a bank heist, with one important difference. As conspirator Jean-Francois says, “It may have been illegal…but it wasn’t wicked or mean.”

Marsh artfully combines lively interviews (especially when Petit is on screen) with stills and film from each of the various events, and even some re-creations (which he later admitted were part of someone else’s aborted film on the subject). A haunting and beautiful score by Michael Nyman (composer for many of Peter Greenaway’s films) and featuring music by Erik Satie, among others, created the dreamlike atmosphere necessary to appreciate this beautiful “art crime.”

Of course, it would be impossible to see a film featuring the Twin Towers without thinking of the events of 9/11. Marsh wisely avoids making any connections, letting the footage of the buildings’ construction speak poignantly for itself. Petit’s feat seems even more wondrous when you consider that the fragile Frenchman survives while the mighty towers lie in ruins.

Here is the Q&A with director James Marsh from after the screening:


Duration: 11:00

Official site for the film
Video interview with director James Marsh and wirewalker Philippe Petit at Sundance 2008

10/10(10/10)

Virtual JFK: Vietnam If Kennedy Had Lived

Virtual JFK: Vietnam If Kennedy Had Lived

Virtual JFK: Vietnam If Kennedy Had Lived (2008, Director: Koji Masutani): This film is somewhat awkardly titled. It’s not a re-creation of an alternate timeline where JFK survives. Rather, it’s a carefully-argued essay whose thesis is that, based on the way John F. Kennedy dealt with several military crises early in his presidency, he would not have escalated the war in Vietnam and that perhaps the tragedy of almost 60,000 American dead (not to mention 2,000,000 Vietnamese) could have been averted.

Narrated and written by Professor James Blight of the Watson Institute for International Studies at Brown University, who was Errol Morris’ advisor on The Fog of War, Virtual JFK examines six different crises faced by the young president in his abbreviated time in office. Two involved Cuba (the Bay of Pigs fiasco in 1961 and the Cuban missile crisis in 1962), one was European (the construction of the Berlin wall in 1961), and the other three involved Southeast Asia (two confrontations over Vietnam, one over Laos). In every case, Kennedy stared down the hawks in his administration and the military commanders who were advocating war. In every case, his caution avoided catastrophe, most notably in the Cuban missile crisis, which many historians believe was the closest the world ever came to nuclear war. Blight has every reason to believe that Kennedy would have prevailed on the subject of Vietnam as well. What he doesn’t discuss is the possibility that this had anything to do with JFK’s assassination, although that hypothesis has been circulated by more than a few people.

Overall, this was enjoyable and well-argued, but not exceptional. On a personal level, I enjoyed seeing so much footage of Kennedy’s press conferences. His charisma is clearly evident in his good-natured exchanges with journalists, even when he was under considerable stress. It also surprised me how much Kennedy had to deal with in such a short time. The world was going through some major upheavals, and we’re fortunate that Kennedy was guiding a restless America with such a steady hand. This film shows us how much more tragic his death was than we may have believed. Apart from all the usual sentimental stuff about Camelot and the loss of hope, America lost a man of caution who had been a warrior of peace.

Incidentally, some reviewers have complained that the film makes a blunt parallel with George W. Bush and his handling of the Iraq war, but the connection is never made overtly. In the times we’re living in, however, it’s hard not to find a critique almost everywhere we look.

Official site of the film
Watson Institute for International Studies page on the film
Trailer

7/10(7/10)