(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 18, 2022)
This psychological thriller has a slow burn, but really gets under your skin. Early one morning, a white-collar father of two (Clayne Crawford) rolls out of his warm bed and readies himself to go deer hunting. His half-awake (and concerned) wife reminds him he has never gone hunting by himself and has limited experience with firearms. Undeterred, he insists that the best way to get experience is to “just go out and do it.” After stopping at a friend’s house to borrow his pickup truck (and a rifle), he heads for the woods. What could possibly go wrong? Anchored by Crawford’s intense performance, writer-director Robert Machoian has fashioned a riveting tale infused with a dash of Dostoevsky and a dollop of Deliverance.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 18, 2022)
The history of the Black Hills is a microcosm of America’s “founding” …discovery, expansion, exploitation, and genocide (and not always in that order). I put “founding” in quotes because, of course, “someone” was already here when Columbus (and eventually, the Pilgrims) landed. In the case of the Black Hills (1.2 million acres encompassing adjoining sections of South Dakota and Wyoming), those residents were the Očéti Šakówiŋ (aka the Sioux Nation).
Writer-narrator Layli Long Soldier makes it clear in the introduction to the film (which is directed by Jesse Short Bull and Laura Tomaselli) that it is not going to be a chronological history, with reenactments of key events. In other words, don’t expect a Ken Burns joint here…but that’s a good thing, because essentially the documentary is a tone poem that embodies the spirit of the Oyate people and beautifully conveys their deep connections to the Black Hills (after all, Long Soldier is a poet).
There is plenty of history in the film; sadly, most of it bleak, revealing an endless string of broken treaties and general lack of respect for sacred land (from the Indian Wars of the 1800s to President Trump’s boorish Fourth of July rally at Mt. Rushmore in 2020). But Long Soldier holds out hope for the future as well, with profiles of longtime Native American activists and a new generation of community leaders and organizers. Powerful.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 18, 2022)
It’s a safe bet that the most oft-asked question throughout history (well, after “Where’s the restroom?”) is “What is love?”. Philosophers, poets, writers, psychologists and even scientists have tackled this age-old query, and come up with just as many disparate explanations. This lack of consensus informs the clever conceit behind animator Signe Baumane’s mixed-media feature.
Baumane’s semi-autobiographical study follows “Zelma” as she navigates the various passages of sexual self-awareness from childhood to adulthood…which then presents her with the complexities of love and relationships. Zelma’s vignettes are interspersed with neuroscience/biochemistry analyses done in the style of high school educational films (remember those?), with the odd musical number thrown in. Funny, touching and insightful.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 18, 2022)
I must warn you: this film is complete gibberish. Literally…the dialog is spoken in a made-up language. Frankly, I was fully prepared to find this gimmick annoying, but thankfully a) there are subtitles and b) the film is nonetheless entertaining.
Writer-director Armagan Ballantyne’s off-the wall dramedy concerns middle-aged couple Laura and Bruno (co-screenwriter Jackie van Beek and Damon Harriman), who have hit a roadblock in their marriage. Bruno’s mother browbeats them into attending a couple’s retreat, to rekindle their passion. The resort is lorded over by a free-spirited sex guru (played with aplomb by Jemaine Clement). Vacillating between riotous cringe comedy and surprising sweetness, the film also pokes gentle fun at “self-actualization” culture (reminiscent of Bill Persky’s 1980 satire Serial).
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 18, 2022)
Tessa Louise-Salomé directs this biography of theater and film director Jack Garfein. A Czechoslovakian-born Holocaust survivor, Garfein (who passed away in 2019) only directed two feature films, The Strange One (1957) and Walk on the Wild Side (1961); but each was notable for tackling then-taboo issues (homosexuality in the former and rape in the latter). Garfein tells his own story, with a wealth of archival clips and photographs woven throughout.
Most affecting are his recollections of the concentration camps, and how this harrowing experience informed his work as an artist. He also recalls his longtime marriage to actress Carroll Baker (which I was previously unaware of) and his involvement with The Actor’s Studio in New York (he later moved to Hollywood and co-founded Actors Studio West). An engrossing and intimate portrait.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 18, 2022)
We might as well be deadpan. Natalia Sinelnikova’s (political satire? black comedy? psychological thriller?) was a puzzler for me. Or maybe it caught me on a bad day. An insular community of apartment building residents turn on each other after one resident’s dog goes missing. The building’s live-in security person (Ioana Iacob) desperately tries to corral the creeping paranoia and hysteria.
Her stress is exacerbated by her daughter, who has locked herself in the bathroom and informed Mom that she has “the evil eye” and is cursed by effective thoughts and dreams. While Sinelnikova and co-screenwriter Viktor Gallandi make intriguing allusions to Stasi-era East Germany and the Jewish diaspora, the film never gels; at best, it’s a glorified remake of the Twilight Zone episode “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street”.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 11, 2022)
As a lifetime Beatle fan, I like to think that everything I don’t know about the Fabs wouldn’t fill a flea’s codpiece…but I’ll confess that I learned a new thing or two about John Lennon’s infamous mid-life crisis in this engrossing documentary, directed by Eve Brandstein, Richard Kaufman, and Stuart Samuels.
This “lost weekend” (coined as such by Lennon himself) lasted approximately a year and a half, from 1973 into 1974, and was precipitated by a rocky period in his storied marriage with Yoko Ono. According to the mythology, Yoko gave John “permission” to sow his wild oats for a spell.
She had a caveat…the couple’s devoted personal assistant May Pang was to accompany John as his “girlfriend”. No matter how you look at it, this was an unconventional separation. It’s no secret that Lennon and Pang became a very public item. History has not always been kind to Ms. Pang, who was arguably caught in the middle of a marital power struggle between her employers.
With this film, Pang finally gets a chance to tell her story…and it’s a real eye-opener. Her entrée into the rarefied air of the Beatles’ inner circle by the tender age of 19 plays like a fairy tale, especially considering her modest beginnings growing up in Spanish Harlem. Her parents were Chinese immigrants; a rocky relationship with her dismissive father drove her to seek solace in rock and roll music (and of course, to discover the Beatles).
The expected anecdotes associated with “the lost weekend” are here-Lennon’s purloined bacchanal with “The Hollywood Vampires”, the wild studio sessions with Phil Spector, et.al. (and a few you may not have previously heard). But the real heart of the film is the story of how Pang’s relationship with Lennon developed (more organically than has been generally assumed). Julian Lennon is also on hand to offer his perspective. A lovely and affecting memoir by Pang, and a treat for Beatle fans.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 11, 2022)
Since 1883, the Hotel Chelsea in New York City has been the center of the universe for bohemian culture. It has been the hostelry of choice for the holiest of hipster saints over the years, housing just about anybody who was anybody in the upper echelons of poets, writers, playwrights, artists, actors, directors, musicians, and free thinkers over the past century.
Maya Duverdier and Amélie van Elmbt’s documentary is an impressionistic portrait of the venerable landmark, vacillating between dredging up the ghosts of its past and profiling some of the current residents as they go about their daily lives (obviously selected for their, ah …colorful eccentricities). Nearly every tenant has an opinion on the extensive renovations that were in progress during filming; some welcome the upgrade, others see it as something akin to sacrilege (the latter camp tend to be longtime residents).
While it may lack cohesion at times, the film is beautifully photographed, with several compelling and hypnotic sequences, as well as unexpected emotional resonance.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on June 11, 2022)
Is a moonlighting gig still definable as “a moonlighting gig” if you don’t have a day job? Self-employed presenters Joe Pickett and Nick Prueher are primarily known as creators (and curators) of the “Found Footage Festival”- the duo’s traveling roadshow of truly weird and wacky VHS-sourced clips. What began as a shared hobby for the long-time buds has turned into a years-long obsession with combing second-hand stores, garage sales and dumpsters for tapes…encompassing everything from commercially released special interest to obscure corporate training videos.
But that’s only half the story in Ben Steinbauer and Berndt Mader’s profile. Pickett and Prueher also have a second incarnation as elaborate pranksters. For a brief and shining moment, they became “Chop and Steele”, self-billed as “strongmen” (even if they certainly didn’t look the part). Almost unbelievably, they were able to book numerous appearances on locally produced “happy talk” TV shows, pushing the gag as far as possible before hapless hosts would catch on and immediately cue a commercial break.
They even finagled a taping on America’s Got Talent (although their bit wasn’t aired…and you’ll see why). Chop and Steele’s “career” abruptly ended when a media company brought a lawsuit against Pickett and Prueher. Entertaining, with thoughtful sidebars regarding the sometimes-tenuous relationship between comedy and the First Amendment. Howie Mandel, Bobcat Goldthwait and other admirers add their two cents.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 28, 2022)
Memorial Day, like war itself, stirs up conflicting emotions. First and foremost, grief…for those who have been taken away (and for loved ones left behind). But there’s also anger…raging at the stupidity of a species that has been hell-bent on self destruction since Day 1.
And so the songs I’ve curated for this playlist run that gamut; from honoring the fallen and offering comfort to the grieving, to questioning those in power who start wars and ship off the sons and daughters of others to finish them, to righteous railing at the utter fucking madness of it all, and sentiments falling somewhere in between.
The Doors- “The Unknown Soldier” – A eulogy; then…a wish.
Pete Seeger- “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” An excellent question. You may not like the answer. When will we ever learn?
Tom Waits- “Soldier’s Things” – The reductive power of a simple inventory. Kleenex on standby.
Bob Marley- “War”– Lyrics by Haile Selassie I. But you knew that.
The Isley Brothers- “Harvest for the World”– Dress me up for battle, when all I want is peace/Those of us who pay the price, come home with the least.
Buffy Sainte Marie- “Universal Soldier”– Sacrifice has no borders.
Bob Dylan- “With God On Our Side” – Amen, and pass the ammunition.
John Prine- “Sam Stone” – An ode to the walking wounded.
Joshua James- “Crash This Train” – Just make it stop. Please.
Kate Bush- “Army Dreamers”– For loved ones left behind…
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