(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 27, 2016)
Dress me up for battle When all I want is peace Those of us who pay the price Come home with the least
–from “Harvest for the World”, by the Isley Brothers
Remember the Afghanistan War? What do you mean, “which one”? Y’know…the latest one; the one that “ended” in 2014 (or are we just taking a breather? I’ve long lost track). At any rate, while it’s no secret it was/is largely a “we” (as in “American”) problem, it is easy to forget that “we” weren’t the only ones who invested precious blood and treasure in that war; there were coalition forces involved as well. Take Denmark, for example. 43 dead, 211 wounded, and 15 billion kroner spent by the time the Danes pulled out in 2013.
And now, those young men and women who have “paid the price” of the Danish-Afghan conflict may have their generation’s Coming Home (or The Deer Hunter) in the guise of A War, a powerful and sobering Oscar-nominated drama from writer-director Tobias Lindholm.
Pilou Aesbaek stars as a compassionate company commander stationed in the Helmand Province. After one of his units is demoralized by the loss of a man to a Taliban sniper while on recon, the commander bolsters morale by personally leading a patrol, which becomes hopelessly pinned down during an intense firefight. Faced with a split-second decision, the commander requests air support, resulting in a “fog of war” misstep. The commander is ordered back home, facing charges of murdering civilians.
For the first two-thirds of the film Lindholm intersperses the commander’s front line travails with those of his family back home, as his wife (Yuva Novotny) struggles to keep life and soul together while maintaining as much of a sense of “normalcy” as she can muster for the sake their three kids (especially the youngest, who frequently wonders aloud when his dad’s coming home).
The home front and the war front are both played “for real” (aside from the obvious fact that it’s a Danish production, this is a refreshingly un-Hollywoodized war movie; the mundanities of everyday life hold equal import with the odd rush of adrenaline). The only nod to convention comes in a slight tonal shift in the third act; a touch of military courtroom drama recalling Breaker Morant (my review).
Some may be dismayed by the moral and ethical ambivalence of the denouement. Then again, there are few tidy endings in life…particularly in war, which (to quote Bertrand Russell) never determines who is “right”, but who is left. Is that a tired trope? Perhaps; but it’s one that bears repeating…until that very last bullet on Earth gets fired in anger.
Well, we got through the Oscar telecast last night, and the world is still here. Yes it was awkward (I had to disable my Liberal Guilt Chip before tuning in), but it’s part of my duties as an alleged movie critic.
Thank god for Chris Rock, who found the sweet spot between acknowledging the elephant in the room and keeping everything moving along. He doled out some shaming on the Academy (as there should have been), but Rock is such a pro that everyone was too busy laughing to be taken aback; and when he made a direct statement about affording people of color more opportunities in Hollywood, it was refreshingly devoid of sanctimony or grandstanding.
I dug Leo’s stump on global warming (anything that makes the deniers twitch is OK in my book) but the most eloquent moment of the night was Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy’s acceptance speech for winning Best Documentary Short. Of course, now I’ll have to face my own shaming for admitting that I haven’t had a chance to see any of the Best Documentary Short nominees (bad critic! bad! bad!). However, I did manage to see and review the other shorts nominees.
I don’t normally “root” for one movie or the other, but I have to say that I was pulling for When Marnie Was There (my review), which lost to Pixar’s Inside Out for Best Animated Feature I expected a little love for Studio Ghibli, especially since this wonderful film is purported to be the swan song for anime master Hayao Miyazaki.
But you can’t have everything. Hey…is there a trophy for that?
BTW your thoughts on the Oscars are welcome (be civil)…
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 20, 2016)
It must have looked great on paper. A timely documentary about the legal pot boom in Colorado, parsed via a cinema verite “ride along” with Ricardo Baca, the country’s first journalist to be hired by a major media outlet (The Denver Post) as a “marijuana editor” (with a nod, one hopes, to the stalwart pioneers at High Times). The filmmakers saw an opportunity to not only see how this burgeoning industry is shaping up, but to get an insider’s view of the alarmingly ever-shrinking universe of traditional print journalism.
Unfortunately, however, Mitch Dickman’s Rolling Papers falls somewhat flat on both fronts. The day-to-day workings of a daily rag have been done to death, and we get little more here than the standard by-the-numbers travails; deadlines, staff meetings, etc. While Baca has a unique gig, and appears to be a dedicated professional, as a film subject he lacks the charisma of say, (for the sake of argument) a David Carr, whose colorful personality helped bolster the 2011 documentary Page One: Inside the New York Times.
The film manages to generate a tad more interest on the weed milieu (if not necessarily offering anything new and/or revelatory; especially to anyone who has already cared enough to follow the issue over the years). It’s kind of fun (at first) following a couple of Baca’s “reviewers at large” around as they visit shops, sample the wares and then make valiant attempts to attack the keyboard while still under the influence (it quickly becomes apparent as to why Baca himself does not partake…someone has to stay straight and be the managing editor, if you know what I’m saying). It was a nice try, but only half-baked.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 20, 2016)
The phrase “American exceptionalism” gets bandied about quite a bit these days, and with such polarized political intent that it seems to have become devoid of any one particular meaning. I think this is because, while the idea has been around for eons, its semantic malleability allows it to be handily co-opted by conservatives and liberals alike. In other words, it depends on who you ask. Does it mean America is exceptionally awesome and the world should follow our awesomely exceptional example? Or does it mean America sports an awesomely long history of making exceptionally bad decisions?
In his new documentary, cheekily entitled Where to Invade Next, Michael Moore takes a noble stab at breaking that stalemate by implementing a clever bit of reverse engineering. That is to say, he embarks on an earnest search and recovery mission for America’s most commendable ideals and founding principles…scouring anywhere in the world but here.
Armed only with an American flag and his highly developed sense of irony, Moore sets off to “invade” countries throughout Europe and North Africa. His goal is not to acquire land or resources, but rather to cull ideas; ideas that could be put to good use here in the U S of A. Yes, I know…ideas can be dangerous. And undoubtedly, at this point his usual detractors would assume that these “ideas” were communistic; or at best “un-American”.
However, as them furreners say…au contraire, bon ami.
For starters, take Italy, where workers are given two-hour lunches, paid maternity leave, innumerable paid vacation days, an additional “13th month” of full salary every December, and (oh, what is that word again?) respect…all as a matter of course. Now, this wasn’t handed to the Italian people on a silver platter; it took years of struggle (as Moore is careful to point out), but hey folks, welcome to the 21st century (well, in Italy).
Moore shifts from employment to education, taking a peek at countries like Finland (no standardized tests, little to no emphasis on homework) France (freshly prepared, nutritionally balanced school lunches that would be strictly 4-star restaurant fare in the U.S.) and Slovenia, with free college for any and all who apply (including non-citizens). And guess what? None of the aforementioned countries’ education systems suffer for it.
That’s all fine and dandy, some may interject this point, but isn’t Moore cherry-picking? And hasn’t he used this device before in his previous films, making idealized “A-B” comparisons between the U.S. and countries that seem to have a much better handle on very specific sociopolitical maladies? Yes, and yes. So what? Is there a law against that?
Speaking of the law, Moore’s most fascinating and illuminating pit stop is in Norway, where the concept of “incarceration” is quite different from ours. If you are not familiar with it (I wasn’t), it will blow your fucking mind. In a nutshell, their prison system is based on rehabilitation, not retribution (no matter how unfathomably horrendous the crime). And as counter-intuitive as that seems, Norway’s recidivism rate is shockingly low.
Initially, Moore not only seems to be literally “all over the map”, but figuratively as well; an uncharacteristic lack of focused advocacy. However, there is a method to his madness, and it is genius. As I watched the film, I gleaned a common thread, key words that kept popping up. Words like “dignity”, “respect”, “freedom”, and (wait for it) “happiness”. It’s almost as if these folks, be they French, Italian, Tunisian, Norwegian, Slovenian, believe that these are, I don’t know, the “inalienable rights” of all humans, or something. I mean, someone should collate these types of ideas into some kind of “declaration”, or maybe draw up a “constitution” of some sort…and then actually, like…implement them.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 13, 2016)
To-morrow is Saint Valentine’s day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine.
–William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 5
You’re breakin’ my heart
You’re tearing it apart…so fuck you
-Nilsson, Son of Schmilsson, “You’re Breaking My Heart”
Alright, I’ve covered the “warm and fuzzy” angle for Valentine’s Day. But there are two sides to every coin. This “holiday” depresses some people. It’s just a corporate invention; a marketing ploy to push overpriced cards and chocolates, right? So I say, embrace your melancholia! I mean, I may be “alone”, but I’m not “lonely”, right? Right? Anyone? Bueller? Hello? (tap, tap) Is this internet working?
Anyway…here you go, alphabetically:
Baby Doll – In 1956, this deliciously squalid melodrama (directed by Elia Kazan and written by Tennessee Williams) was decried by the “Legion of Decency” for “carnal suggestiveness”. Granted, there is something suggestive about a sultry, PJ-clad 19 year old (Carroll Baker) curled up in a child’s crib, sucking her thumb. This is our first glimpse of the young woman recently betrothed to creepy old Archie (Karl Malden). Archie is breathlessly counting down to Baby Doll’s imminent birthday. She was 18 on her wedding day, but Archie is beholden to an agreement of “no consummation” until she’s 20.
In return, Archie has promised to renovate his rundown cotton gin so he can bathe her in luxury, ‘til death do they part. However, Archie is as bereft of coin as he is lustful in loin. This leads to an ill-advised act that gets him in hot water with his prosperous business rival (Eli Wallach). Instead of getting mad, Wallach decides to get even…by seducing Baby Doll. The seduction scene is a classic; it “shows” little, yet implies much (it is left up to your imagination).
Crazy Love – For the benefit of readers unfamiliar with the Bizarro World “love story” of Burt and Linda Pugach, I won’t risk spoilers regarding this 2007 documentary. Suffice it say, if you think you’ve seen it all when it comes to obsession and dysfunction in romantic relationships, you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet. I will divulge this much- despite the odious nature of the act one of these two people visits upon the other at one point in their relationship, it’s still not cut and dry as to whose “side” you want to be on, because both of these people got off the bus in Crazy Town a long time ago. This film is the antonym for “date movie”. Dan Klores and Fisher Stevens directed.
Happiness – If you you’re partial to network narratives populated by emotionally needy neurotics, this 1998 Todd Solondz film is in your wheelhouse. Bold performances all around in this veritable merry-go-round of modern dysfunction, as you watch a sad parade of completely hapless individuals make desperate, cringe-inducing stabs at establishing meaningful connections sometime before they die (the human condition?). Standouts in the huge cast include the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, Lara Flynn Boyle, Jane Adams, Dylan Baker and Camryn Manheim. Keep a pint of Ben and Jerry’s handy.
The Honeymoon Killers – Several decades before Natural Born Killers was even a gleam in Oliver Stone’s eye, writer-director Leonard Kastle made this highly effective low-budget exploitation film (based on a true story) about a pair of murderous lovebirds. Martha (Shirley Stoler) and Ray (Tony Lo Bianco) meet via a “lonely hearts” correspondence club and find that they have a lot more in common than the usual love of candlelit dinners and walks on the beach.
Namely, they’re both full-blown sociopaths, who cook up a scheme to lure lonely women into their orbit so they can kill them and take their assets. Stoler and Lo Bianco have a palpable chemistry as the twisted couple. The stark B & W photography and verite approach enhances the unsettling vibe. Martin Scorsese was the original director, but was quickly fired (!). This was Kastle’s only film.
The Night Porter – Director Liliana Cavani brilliantly uses a story of a sadomasochistic relationship as both an allusion to the horrors of Hitler’s Germany and a treatise on sexual politics. Dirk Bogarde and Charlotte Rampling deliver intense, brooding performances as a former SS officer and a concentration camp survivor who become entwined in a twisted, doomed relationship years after WW2. Steeped in decadence, deeply disturbing, yet…weirdly compelling.
Sid and Nancy – The ultimate love story…for nihilists. Director Alex Cox has never been accused of subtlety, and there’s certainly a glorious lack of it here in his over-the-top 1986 biopic about the doomed relationship between Sex Pistols bassist Sid Vicious and his girlfriend Nancy Spungen. Gary Oldman and Chloe Webb chew all the available scenery as they shoot up, turn on and check out. Okay, it is a bit of a downer, but the cast is outstanding, and Cox (who co-scripted with Abbe Wool) injects a fair amount of dark comedy (“Eeew, Sid! I look like fuckin’ Stevie Nicks in hippie clothes!”). The movie also benefits from outstanding cinematography by Roger Deakins.
Smash Palace – Dramatic films about the disintegration of a marriage aren’t a romp in the fields to begin with (and as date movies…it’s safe to say that they are right out), but can be particularly heart-wrenching when children are involved (e.g. Kramer vs Kramer or Shoot the Moon). Few are as raw and emotionally draining as this nearly forgotten 1981 gem from New Zealand.
An early effort from writer-director Roger Donaldson (The Bounty, No Way Out, Thirteen Days), the film features a riveting performance by Bruno Lawrence, as an eccentric race car driver/salvage yard owner who neglects his wife (Anna Maria Monticelli) to the point where she has an affair. The cuckolded hubby (already a walking time bomb) does not react well. Donaldson sustains an incredible sense of tension. Absorbing and unpredictable right up to the end.
Swept Away – The time-honored “man and woman stuck on a desert island” scenario is served up with a heaping tablespoon of class struggle and an acidic twist of sexual politics in this controversial 1975 film from Italian director Lena Wertmuller. A shrill and haughty bourgeoisie woman (Mariangela Melato) charters a yacht cruise for herself and her equally obnoxious fascist friends, who all seem to delight in belittling their slovenly deck hand (Giancarlo Giannini), who is a card-carrying communist. Fate and circumstance conspire to strand Melato and Giannini together on a small Mediterranean isle, setting the stage for some interesting role reversal games. BTW, in case you are curious about the Guy Ritchie/Madonna remake? Here’s a two-word review: Stay away!
Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? – If words were needles, university history professor George (Richard Burton) and his wife Martha (Elizabeth Taylor) would look like a pair of porcupines, because after years of shrill, shrieking matrimony, these two have become maestros of the barbed insult, and the poster children for the old axiom, “you only hurt the one you love”. Mike Nichols’ 1966 directing debut (adapted by Ernest Lehman from Edward Albee’s Tony-winning stage play) gives us a peek into one night in the life of this battle-scarred middle-aged couple.
After a faculty party, George and Martha invite a young newlywed couple (George Segal and Sandy Dennis) over for a nightcap. As the ever-flowing alcohol kicks in, the evening becomes a veritable primer in bad human behavior. It’s basically a four-person play, but these are all fine actors, and the writing is the real star of this piece.
Everyone in the cast is fabulous, but Taylor is the particular standout; this was a breakthrough performance for her in the sense that she proved beyond a doubt that she was more than just a pretty face. Don’t forget, the actress behind this blowsy, 50-ish character was only 34 (and, of course, a genuine stunner). When “Martha” says “Look, sweetheart. I can drink you under any goddam table you want…so don’t worry about me,” you don’t doubt that she really can.
Your Friends and Neighbors – With friends and neighbors like these…oy. A very dark social satire from the Prince of Darkness himself, playwright-writer-director Neil LaBute (In the Company of Men, Nurse Betty). As in most LaBute narratives, there’s nary a sympathetic character in sight in this study of two unhappy couples and their circle of unhappy friends. Everybody makes bad choices and generally treat each other like shit. Cynical, appalling, and perversely funny. You’ll love it! Aaron Eckart, Jason Patric, Amy Brenneman, Catherine Keener, Nastassja Kinski, and Ben Stiller make a crack ensemble.
…and now here’s the late great Harry Nilsson to sing us out:
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on February 6, 2016)
Not that Hollywood ever tires of making movies about Hollywood…but “they” really seem to be on a roll lately. Arriving on the heels of Jay Roach’s Trumbo (my review), which depicted the Red Scare-induced fear and paranoia that permeated the film industry in the 1950s through the eyes of a slightly fictionalized real-life participant, we now have the latest effort from co-writer-directors Joel and Ethan Coen…which depicts the Red Scare-induced fear and paranoia that permeated the industry in the 1950s through the eyes of a slightly fictionalized real-life participant (although in this case, its funnier side).
In fact, the Coens have gone into full “screwball” mode for Hail, Caesar! – leaving no gag unturned (think The Hudsucker Proxy or O Brother, Where Art Thou?). That said, it wouldn’t be a Coen Brothers film without its Conflicted Everyman Protagonist; for this outing it’s Hollywood “fixer” Eddie Mannix, (the ubiquitous Josh Brolin). Not unlike his (wholly fictional) contemporary counterpart “Ray Donovan” (who I wrote about recently) he’s a responsible family man on the one hand, yet earns his living in a twilight world where he is required to bend whatever rules he needs to (moral and/or legal) in order to clean up after his clients. Also like Donovan, Mannix is racked by Catholic guilt.
When Mannix isn’t in the confession box (which provides some of the film’s more drolly amusing scenes) he’s busy putting out fires; like the one that involves the kidnapping of Baird Whitlock (George Clooney), one of Capitol Studio’s biggest stars. Whitlock has been snatched off the set of his latest picture (a sword-and-sandal epic bearing a striking resemblance to Spartacus) by an enigmatic organization called The Future…whose true identity I’m sworn to protect, in the interest of remaining spoiler-free.
In the meantime, Mannix has to stave off a pair of persistent gossip columnists (twin sisters played by Tilda Swinton, who through no fault of her own has to follow Helen Mirren’s recent bigger-than-life, Golden Globes and SAG-nominated turn as Hedda Hopper in Trumbo).
Truth be told, the narrative is actually a bit thin in this fluffier-than-usual Coen outing; it’s primarily a skeleton around which the brothers can construct a portmanteau of 50s movie parodies. 1950s musicals provide fodder for several set pieces; including an Esther Williams send up (with Scarlett Johanssen poured into a mermaid suit), and a takeoff of On the Town, featuring a nimble-footed Channing Tatum firing up a barroom full of hunky sailors and leading them in a winking, cheerfully homoerotic song and dance.
Singing westerns are parodied via Alden Ehrenreich’s character, a hick who hit the big time based not so much on his nominal acting abilities, but due to his looks and rodeo skills. The main plot cleverly mirrors 1950s Red Scare films like Big Jim McLain and I Was a Communist for the FBI (I also found the kidnappers’ hideaway suspiciously reminiscent of the antagonists’ digs in North by Northwest).
Brolin plays it straight, Clooney plays it broad, Ehrenreich is endearing, Johanssen is, uh, gorgeous, and Tatum proves quite adept at comedy (who knew?). Ralph Fiennes hams it up as a finicky “prestige” director, and you can have fun playing “spot the cameo” with the likes of Frances McDormand, Jonah Hill, Clancy Brown, Christopher Lambert, and Dolph Lundgren.
This is far from the Coen’s best work, but the film has just enough of their patented “little touches” (like a Communist who has named his dog “Engels”) that make it unmistakably Coen. Oh-and a character is repeatedly told to shut up; undoubtedly this is a callback to the catchphrase “Shut the fuck up, Donnie!” from The Big Lebowski.
It’s days like this that remind me why I moved to rainy grey Seattle:
[Seattle Times] It’s official (wink, wink): King County Executive Dow Constantine has declared Friday, Feb. 5 as “International Clash Day,” and to honor it KEXP will be programming 12 hours of music dedicated to the UK punk legends starting at 6 a.m.
KEXP’s DJ John Richards started the idea back in 2013 when he determined that one Clash song was not enough.
“International Clash Day was created because of our love of great music, the rebellious nature of the band, the insane catalog to play from and because there really was nothing else going on that day,” Richards said.
Is that cool, or what? BTW, John Richards has my old job (seriously).
This blog is starting to look more and more like an obituary column. It’s either that, or I’m getting old (keep your opinions to yourself).
Bob Elliott, the last surviving half of the comedy duo “Bob & Ray”, has “gone dark” (as we say in broadcasting when you sign off for good).
I grew up listening to (and watching) Bob and Ray, from the early 60s through the late 80s. They were one of my main inspirations for going into radio (along with the Firesign Theater, who were surely influenced by them). They invented what I call “stealth comedy”. Their delivery was so low-key, their satire so subtle that many people didn’t realize that they were…comedians (they perfected the “fake news” shtick decades before SNL or The Daily Show). They were also masters of the time-released zinger, as perfectly illustrated in this classic bit:
Another one of my faves-an interview with History’s worst historian:
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on January 30, 2016)
At the risk of having my critic’s license revoked, I will freely admit this, right here in front of God and all six of my readers: I’ve only managed to catch 3 of the 8 films nominated for Best Picture of 2015. Then again, you can feel free to ask me if I care (the Academy and I rarely see eye-to-eye). Funny thing, though…I have managed to catch all of the (traditionally more elusive) Oscar nominees for Best Short Film-Animation and Best Short Film-Live Action. And the good news is you can, too. The five nominees in each sub-category are making the rounds as limited-engagement curated presentations; each collection runs approximately the length of a feature film, with separate admissions.
(Reads woodenly off teleprompter) And the nominees for Best Short Film-Animation are:
Bear Story (Chile) – A 3-D animation piece about a bear living a life of quiet desperation (no, seriously). Lonely and life-tired, he goes through his morning ablutions on auto-pilot, then world-wearily shuffles off to work. His job? Standing on a street corner with his custom-built mechanical diorama, offering a peek to passers-by for a nickel a pop. What his customers see is less than heartwarming. Sort of like Ingmar Bergman for kids.
Rating: ***
Prologue (UK) – Billed as “an incident in the Spartan-Athenian wars of 2,400 years ago”, this 6-minute vignette is handsomely executed, but a head-scratcher. A little girl watches in horror as four warriors engage in a gruesome death match. That’s it. I suppose it delivers on the title; it’s a prologue…but to what? More of an exercise than a narrative. Not suitable for kids; it’s last on the reel and a parental warning will be flashed on screen.
Rating: **
Sanjay’s Super Team (USA) – The inevitable (unavoidable?) Pixar nominee. I promise to be good here and put aside my general aversion to Pixar “product” (longtime readers understand…it’s probably just a chemical thing, can’t be helped). A first-generation Indian-American boy plants himself in front of the TV, whilst his dad quietly begins his Hindu prayers. Dad subtly steers his son away from the idiot box and into his devotionals. At first, the boy balks, but becomes entranced by the icon figures in his dad’s shrine, sparking a Sorcerer’s Apprentice-style fantasia. The usual Pixar overkill ensues. Still, the piece has its heart in the right place, and it delivers a positive message.
Rating: **½
We Can’t Live Without Cosmos (Russia) – Two lifelong pals realize their boyhood dreams to become cosmonauts. It’s a lovely homage to the spirit and sacrifice of space explorers past and present, and to mankind’s quest for knowledge about what’s out there.
Rating: ***
World of Tomorrow (USA) – Don’t let the simple stick figures fool you…there’s a lot going on in this heady mixture of sci-fi whimsy and existential angst. A little girl is taken on a tour of her future, which is not the brightest (for Earth in general). Still, there are technical wonders to behold. But there is a catch; and unfortunately she’s not old enough to process her time-travelling guide’s buried lede (probably for the best that she stays happy for now). A clever mashup of Stanley Kubrick, Woody Allen and Douglas Adams.
Rating: ****
And the nominees for Best Short Film-Live Action are:
Ave Maria (Palestine/France/Germany) – Five nuns walk into a bar mitzvah. Actually, it’s the other way around…three Israeli settlers (an elderly woman, her son and his wife) walk into an isolated West Bank convent after accidently knocking over their Virgin Mary statue (oops). Their car has stalled out on them and they need to use a phone. The nuns have taken a vow of silence, and the Jewish gentleman can’t touch the phone because it’s Friday after sunset. Yes, it’s a fabulous setup for some wacky interfaith hijinks, which do ensue. It’s a clever comedy of mores that gives you hope for humanity.
Rating: ***½
Day One (USA) – A neo-realistic, one-act microcosm of our country’s Middle Eastern quagmire, parsed through a day in the life of a newly-deployed Afghan-American military interpreter. On her first mission, she accompanies a squad closing in on a bomb-maker. As the soldiers secure their prisoner, his pregnant wife is discovered in a back room, where she begins to go into labor. Very similar in theme to Ave Maria, but more somber in tone. Even in the midst of conflict, there’s always room for a little compassion.
Rating: ***
Everything Will Be OK (Germany/Austria) – A divorced father picks up his 8 year-old daughter for their weekend visitation. Everything appears normal…initially (any further synopsis constitutes a spoiler). A well-acted character study, with a suspenseful build-up.
Rating: ***
Shok (Kosovo) – War is hell for anybody involved, but it’s particularly distressing and heartbreaking when filtered through the eyes of innocents who are caught in the crossfire. Such is this short, sharp, shock to the system (based on true events) about two Albanian boys who are best friends in Kosovo during the Yugoslav wars. It’s intense and affecting.
Rating: ****
Stutterer (UK/Ireland) – A character study of a young man whose complex over his speech impediment keeps him socially isolated. His sole ray of light is an online texting relationship that he has developed with a young woman. When she proposes to take it to the next level and arrange a face-to-face visit, he short-circuits over the dilemma. Borderline precious (with a predictable “twist”) but it only takes 12 minutes of your time!
