road-movie

Lapland Odyssey

by James McNally on September 19, 2010

in Film Festivals,TIFF

Lapland Odyssey

Lapland Odyssey (Director: Dome Karukoski): I’ve always been a fan of Nordic com­edies so it was a treat to see this on the last day of this year’s TIFF. I also have a very tiny con­nec­tion with Lapland. When trav­eling in Europe by myself in 1989, I had an unlim­ited rail­pass, so one day while I was in Helsinki, I decided to cross the Arctic Circle. 18 hours later by train and I was in Kemijärvi. I wandered around for about two hours and then got right back on the train to Helsinki. Mission accomplished.

I think that sort of mad determ­in­a­tion also drives our hero Janne. Well, per­haps not at first. Ever since his busi­ness went bank­rupt five years ago, he’s lived on wel­fare. There aren’t many jobs in Lapland, but at least he has a wife. Most of the women even­tu­ally move south, but he’s been with Inari for nine years, although her patience with his leth­argy is wearing thin. When she gives him money to buy a “digibox” so they can tune in cable tele­vi­sion, he sits around all day and misses the store’s closing time, pre­fer­ring to hang around with his lay­about friends Kapu and Tapio. She gives him an ulti­matum. Return by 9:00am the next morning with a digibox or she’ll be gone. He’s also spent the money she gave him on beer, so he and his pals will have to earn some money overnight too.

It’s a Friday night, so his first idea is that they’ll use Tapio’s car to run a freel­ance taxi ser­vice out­side the local hotel bar. That doesn’t go too well when they run out of gas and decide to siphon some from Inari’s ex-boyfriend. When they finally get to the hotel, the real cab­bies take umbrage, but Janne ends up finding a rather unique task where he can earn some money; that is, if he can avoid tempta­tion. Meanwhile, mama’s boy Tapio just may have found the woman of his dreams. I won’t spoil the rest of the plot, but it turns into a sort of quest movie in which the heroes are very dim indeed.

As with all Nordic farces, there’s a dark under­cur­rent of gloom and fatalism. In this case, it’s Janne’s friend Kapu, whose ancestors going back five gen­er­a­tions have given in to des­pair and hanged them­selves from a par­tic­ular tree in the vil­lage. In a clever pro­logue, we see their reasons (one involved hockey!), and it seems that Kapu might be headed the same way if his cir­cum­stances don’t change soon. Because this is a comedy, I don’t think I’ll spoil any­thing by saying that Kapu doesn’t kill him­self. In fact, things turn out rather well for our gang of dimwits.

Lapland Odyssey uses both the beauty and strange­ness of its far northern set­ting to great effect. Although we laugh at the very lim­ited oppor­tun­ities Janne has to earn money, we also sym­pathize with his lack of inertia. When he does even­tu­ally decide to fight to keep the love of his wife, he’s pretty hard to stop. Although none of the char­ac­ters really changes all that much (a bril­liant deus ex machina moment occurs at the end of the film which will leave you grin­ning), we see the begin­ning of a desire to change, and that’s enough.

Granted, this is not the most ori­ginal plot, at least in its gen­eral out­line, but the set­ting and char­ac­ters are just spe­cific enough to make this a unique sort of road movie.

7/10(7/10)

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Bomber

by James McNally on March 24, 2009

in Film Festivals,SXSW

Bomber

Bomber (Director: Paul Cotter): A well-edited trailer and an inter­esting premise drew me to this film, and I have to say up front that Bomber didn’t quite live up to expect­a­tions. It’s a film I wanted to like. Ross is an under­em­ployed art school graduate with an extremely pos­sessive girl­friend. To make things worse, he’s been dragged unwill­ingly along on a road trip with his par­ents. His father, Alistar, was a teenage bomber pilot for the Royal Air Force during the Second World War and wants to return to the small vil­lage in Germany he acci­dent­ally bombed in order to apo­lo­gize. Director Cotter used only three actors and seven crew, picking the rest of his cast from among the local townspeople. So far, so good. There is actu­ally a lot to like about Bomber: it’s beau­ti­fully shot in high-definition, there’s a won­derful soundtrack (espe­cially the songs by Sweden’s Marching Band), and the per­form­ances are gen­er­ally good. Where the film let me down was in its weak script. Hackneyed dia­logue and crude attempts at humour didn’t bother most of the audi­ence, but they did grate with this reviewer. The pacing could have been tightened up a bit too. The bits I enjoyed the most were actu­ally the dialogue-free shots of the family van driving through the Dutch and German land­scapes, accom­panied by the excel­lent soundtrack music. Unfortunately, those shots could very well have occurred in a car commercial.

Most frus­trating for me was the way son Ross pro­gresses from a total emo­tional melt­down in one scene, trying to attack his par­ents from out­side the van, to later giving them lec­tures filled with psy­chobabble like “you just have to express what you’re feeling.” Normally, com­edies are full of char­ac­ters this incon­sistent, but the problem is that Bomber isn’t strictly a comedy, and when it went for any sort of emo­tional payoff, I was unmoved because these char­ac­ters hadn’t really been developed beyond sketches.

I sus­pect that Cotter fell prey to the mis­con­cep­tion that he needed to be an auteur, both writing and dir­ecting his first fea­ture film. Though the idea ger­min­ated with him and his own family his­tory (and in fact he has also written a radio play called Dropping Bombs essen­tially cov­ering the same ground), I think the story would have been better served by bringing in a more exper­i­enced scriptwriter, who could have pol­ished Bomber into a much better film.

Page for the film on the director’s web site

Trailer

6/10(6/10)

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Cactus

by Jay Kerr on February 18, 2009

in Film Festivals

Cactus

Cactus (Director: Jasmine Yuen Carrucan): Questions abound in this low-budget road movie that takes place in the Australian out­back. John Kelly (Travis McMahon) is in des­perate need of some money so he takes a job which involves the kid­nap­ping of a pro­fes­sional gam­bler, Eli Jones (David Lyons). John must deliver Eli to someone in the middle of the out­back by fol­lowing metic­u­lous dir­ec­tions and instruc­tions. Along the way a policeman (Bryan Bell) becomes involved and things get more confusing.

Very little back story is revealed which makes the film exciting yet frus­trating. By the end of this journey your patience may wear thin. Like an episode of the TV show Lost, you’ll have more ques­tions than answers.

Cactus is Carrucan’s first outing as a writer and dir­ector. With little to no budget, she has made a decent film. It’s beau­ti­fully shot and the acting is com­petent. Unfortunately she left me in the out­back without a map and I’m still trying to figure out why the film is called Cactus.

Official site of the film

5/10(5/10)

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Bottle Rocket

by James McNally on December 4, 2008

in DVD

Bottle Rocket

Bottle Rocket (Director: Wes Anderson): I’ve seen Wes Anderson’s fea­ture debut three or maybe four times by now, but it’s a film I enjoy more and more with each viewing. My first exposure to Anderson was seeing Rushmore at the 1998 Toronto International Film Festival and it just knocked me out. When I sought out Bottle Rocket a few months later, I was under­whelmed. It was much more subtle than Rushmore, from the char­ac­ter­iz­a­tion to the art dir­ec­tion, but over the years my estim­a­tion of the film has risen con­sid­er­ably. Criterion’s recent release of the film on DVD gave me another oppor­tunity to eval­uate it, and it was great to see all of the Wes Anderson touches there, even at the begin­ning. Critics of Anderson’s work often point out that he hasn’t really changed much as a dir­ector, and that even with bigger budgets and larger canvases with which to work, he still ends up telling the same stories. Even as a huge fan of his work, I’d have to say that there’s a lot of truth in that cri­ti­cism, espe­cially after watching Bottle Rocket again.

The film begins with Anthony (Luke Wilson) being released from a mental hos­pital where he’d been treated for “exhaus­tion.” His friend Dignan (Owen Wilson) has come to “break him out,” not real­izing that the hos­pital is vol­un­tary, and that Anthony can leave any­time he wants. In the first of many examples, Anthony plays along with the ruse to make his friend feel better. Dignan is a hyper­active guy with big plans. Although he was fired from his land­scaping job with local entre­preneur and small­time hood Mr. Henry (James Caan), he’s eager to impress him and get his old job back. He recruits Anthony into his “gang” along with their rich friend Bob (Robert Musgrave), the only one who owns a car. The plan is to pull off a daring heist to impress Mr. Henry, thus gaining them entry into his crim­inal circle (which is fronted by his land­scaping busi­ness, the Lawn Wranglers).

Their metic­u­lously planned rob­bery, of a book­store(!), goes well enough, but their plan calls for them to go “on the lam” so they drive out to the middle of nowhere to hide out in a motel. This middle sec­tion of the film is par­tic­u­larly charming, as Anthony falls com­pletely head over heels for Inez, a Paraguayan house­keeper at the motel, in spite of the fact that she speaks no English and he can’t speak Spanish. Anthony seems so des­perate to make a con­nec­tion out­side of his social class that this should feel creepy, but thanks to Luke Wilson’s win­ning per­form­ance, it actu­ally man­ages to feel romantic. A family situ­ation res­ults in Bob taking off in the middle of the night with his car, leading to one of the film’s most mem­or­able lines, from Dignan: “Bob’s gone. He stole his car!” The now-carless gang (Anthony and Dignan) try to keep their flight from the law going, but it soon turns sour and they end up returning home sep­ar­ately. Weeks go by, until Dignan turns up to invite Anthony (and more reluct­antly, Bob) into a big score with Mr. Henry’s gang.

I won’t say any­more but I was delighted to dis­cover that the film seems just as fresh as it did the first time I saw it, almost ten years ago now. I love Anderson’s by now trade­mark use of single-minded and eccentric prot­ag­on­ists, as well as his tend­ency to por­tray multi-cultural and multi-generational friend­ships. It’s a joy to see the debut of Owen Wilson, playing one of the more mem­or­able char­ac­ters in recent American cinema, and to see him acting with both of his brothers (older brother Andrew plays Bob’s bul­lying older brother, whom they oddly call “Future Man”.) The film has that feeling of being made by a small group of friends, or in this case, a family.

The only thing I was left won­dering was what happened to Robert Musgrave, whose per­form­ance as Bob was excel­lent. In the “making of” included on the DVD, he appears wistful as he revisits some of the loc­a­tions, some now torn down. I wonder if he ever feels like he was the only one left behind as the other players went on to for­tune and fame, while his career has con­sisted of playing bit parts. Speaking of the “making of”, it was filmed in Spring 2008 and Luke Wilson doesn’t look good at all. Overweight and tired-looking, he really doesn’t come across as the man whom pro­ducer James L. Brooks insisted had to “deliver the romance.” I sin­cerely hope he’s okay.

Other treas­ures on this 2-disc set I’ve yet to explore include a com­mentary track with Wes Anderson and Owen Wilson, who wrote the film together, and the ori­ginal 13-minute black and white short, made in 1992, on which the fea­ture was based.

Note: This film always reminds me of another indie film that came out around the same time about a group of hap­less wan­nabe crooks. Palookaville (1995), dir­ected by Alan Taylor, and star­ring Vincent Gallo, William Forsythe and Adam Trese was another enjoy­able and eccentric film about a gang of lov­able losers who really weren’t cut out for the crim­inal life­style. I always wonder about the timing of these two films, and why dir­ector Alan Taylor never went on to any measure of cine­matic suc­cess (though he has had a lot of suc­cess as a tele­vi­sion dir­ector, win­ning an Emmy and working on acclaimed shows such as Mad Men, Lost, The Sopranos and Sex and the City). It’s a good little film and is under­ap­pre­ci­ated, I think. Try Bottle Rocket and Palookaville as a double fea­ture sometime.

Buy Bottle Rocket from Amazon.com

9/10(9/10)

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Viva Cuba

Viva Cuba (Director: Juan Carlos Cremata Malberti, Cuba, 2005): Viva Cuba is a charming fairytale/road movie that sub­merges its polit­ical mes­sage in a very per­sonal story of friend­ship and love. Jorgito and his tomboy friend Malu are on the cusp of adoles­cence, and their close friend­ship seems about to morph into some­thing at once more ser­ious and more fright­ening. It’s evident from the way they can be holding hands one minute and arguing viol­ently the next. To make things worse, their fam­ilies detest each other. Malu lives with her mother, a bitter woman whose family used to wield influ­ence in the days before Castro’s revolu­tion. Jorgito’s par­ents have moved to Havana from the coun­tryside and are firm sup­porters of the gov­ern­ment. Each mother admon­ishes her child for playing with an unsuit­able play­mate, but that only drives the pair closer together.

This Romeo and Juliet story really takes off when Malu’s mother decides to leave Cuba forever, to join her boy­friend in what we assume is America. In order to get per­mis­sion to leave the country with Malu, she must get her estranged ex-husband to sign an exit author­iz­a­tion. Knowing this, Malu and Jorgito hatch a plan to appeal to his paternal love (or guilt) by trav­eling in person to see him. The problem is that Malu hasn’t seen her father since she was six, because he works as a light­house keeper at the other end of the country.

The two young prot­ag­on­ists hit the road by train, bus, and oxcart to reach their des­tin­a­tion, but their con­stant squab­bling threatens to ruin the plan. In the mean­time, their wor­ried fam­ilies have seem­ingly recon­ciled in the des­perate search for their missing children.

First and fore­most, this is a beautifully-shot film, and the use of colour is often striking. The polit­ical mes­sage, such as it is, seems to ignore Castro com­pletely; instead, it’s a shame­lessly pro-Cuba film, high­lighting both the island’s nat­ural beauty as well as the fierce pride of its people in their cul­tural insti­tu­tions. It’s not sur­prising that music plays a big part in the film.

It’s unclear whether the dir­ector was attempting to make a film aimed solely at chil­dren. There is cer­tainly a sense of naïveté in the dia­logue and the basic struc­ture of the film, and there is never any real danger to these two kids on the run, but the ending seemed par­tic­u­larly grown-up and ambiguous, and made me ree­valuate my ini­tial impres­sions. Some critics have seen the film as an allegory depicting two sides to modern Cuban cul­ture, but I don’t believe the inten­tion was that obvious. I think the film gains res­on­ance from refusing to be overt about its polit­ical opin­ions. Instead, it leaves the viewer to untangle his sym­pathies from the inter­sec­tion of con­flicting desires in a country that is chan­ging, just not fast enough for some.

Note: Film Movement fea­tured this film as their Year 5 Film 5.

8/10(8/10)

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