(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 11, 2024)
Set in Rome during a freakish January heatwave, writer-director Ginevra Elkann’s network narrative (reminiscent of P.T. Anderson’s Magnolia) follows the travails of several characters in crisis: an alcoholic mother who has lost custody of her little girl, a faded 80s porn actress coming to grips with her mortality, a bulimic young woman who provides elder care for a woman with a shopping addiction, and an American ex-pat priest struggling with his junkie past. As the heat rises, so does the angst. Episodic; despite a fine cast and some nicely played scenes, the narrative threads never quite gelled for me.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 11, 2024)
Look in the dictionary under “quiet observation”, and you’ll find a print of auteur Hong Sang-soo’s character study of two artists (a 40-ish actress and an aging poet), each at a crossroads in their creative journey. Sang-soo’s beautifully constructed narrative chugs along at the speed of life; I understand that this may induce drowsiness with some viewers-but the devil is in the details, and those who pay close attention to them will be richly rewarded.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 11, 2024)
I’ve always considered Alfred Hitchcock’s1944 war drama Lifeboat (about a small group of passengers who survive the sinking of their vessel by a U-boat) as a sharply observed microcosm of the human condition. However, Daphné Baiwir’s documentary sheds a different light, recalling a critical backlash from some who condemned the film as pro-German (an aspect I had never really considered before). A fascinating look at Hollywood in the 1940s, and the effects of war hysteria.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 11, 2024)
In April 1945, the Allies were closing in on Berlin, signaling the imminent demise of the Third Reich. But for the citizens of Nazi-occupied European nations, the trauma was far from over. Anders Walter’s drama is set in a Danish village on the Island of Funen, still in the grip of its German occupiers. When a trainload of German refugees pulls into town, the Nazi commandant orders the local headmaster (the always wonderful Pilou Asbæk) to house them at his school. An outbreak of diphtheria among the refugees, coupled with widening divisions between the locals has the headmaster facing a dilemma: if he shows compassion toward the suffering German civilians, does that make him a “collaborator”? A well-acted examination of the moral quandaries faced by everyday non-combatants who get caught in the crossfire of (any) war, reminiscent of the excellent TV series A French Village.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 11, 2024)
“Raaay-neeEER-BEEERrrrr….” If you lived in Alaska or the Northwest in the 70s and 80s, you’ll “get” that-and likely start chuckling. That said, you don’t have to have lived in Alaska or the Northwest to get a chuckle out of Isaac Olsen’s documentary. Olsen recounts the origin of the small (and unconventional) Seattle ad agency led by madmen Terry Heckler and Gordon Bowker that dreamt up a series of now-iconic Rainier Beer TV ads. A many-tendrilled odyssey indeed, with some unexpected sidebars (like cross-pollination with the inception of the Starbucks empire, and the story behind Mickey Rooney’s involvement with the campaign). A fascinating, entertaining look at the process behind the creative side of marketing, bolstered by a generous helping of the original TV ads.
Stop-motion animator David Allen (The Howling, Q the WingedSerpent, Willow, Honey I Shrunk the Kids, et.al.) originally conceived this film in the 1970s. Live action principal photography was shot in 1994; Allen began work on the stop-motion elements, but sadly he passed away in 1999. The project was finally completed via a recent crowdfunding campaign. The adventure is set in the Himalayas; replete with Sherpa guides, a know-it-all professor, creatures of unusual size and hidden valleys where time has stood still (think a mashup of Lost Horizon, King Kong, and Doyle’s The Lost World). The dialog is boilerplate, and the acting is stilted; but let’s be honest, does anyone watch The 7th Voyage of Sinbad for the performances? Not critical viewing but taken in the spirit of a midnight movie (or perhaps with the right, um, enhancements) it’s all a right bit of fun.
Bananas meets The Mouse That Roared in this refreshingly old-school political satire directed by Peter Luisi. Beat Schlatter (who co-wrote the screenplay with the director) stars as a mild-mannered German-speaking federal agent who gets tasked with overseeing implementation of a controversial new Swiss law that mandates French as the country’s official language (in true Peter Sellers fashion, Schlatter also plays the high-profile media demagogue who pushed for the law). Problems quickly pile up for the hapless agent; he can barely speak French, his dear old mom becomes radicalized, and he finds himself falling for an Italian woman who belongs to a separatist group he’s been assigned to infiltrate. OK, I’ll say it: This is a hilarious, good-natured romp.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on May 4, 2024)
The 50th Seattle International Film Festival opens May 9th and runs through May 19th. This year’s SIFF features a total of 207 shorts, documentaries, and narrative films from 84 countries. The brick-and-mortar event will be immediately followed by a week of select virtual screenings from this year’s catalog (April 20-27) on the SIFF Channel.
SIFF has certainly grown exponentially since its first incarnation in 1976 (in case the math is making you crazy, festival organizers “skipped” the 13th event; you know how superstitious show people get about Scottish kings and such). Compare the numbers: In 1976, the Festival boasted a whopping 19 films from 9 countries, with one lone venue (the venerable Egyptian Theater, pictured at the top of the post). This year, there are 8 venues. Then again, there were only 13 people on the staff in 1976 (compared with 110 now).
Regardless of how large or small the staff, the one constant over the decades has been the quality of the curation. Long before “sharing files” (or even making mix tapes) was a thing, SIFF’s annual lineup reflected that sense of joy in turning friends on to something new and exciting; instilling the sense there was a tangible film lover’s community (others who enjoyed being alone together, out there in the dark).
The first SIFF event I ever attended was a screening of Richard Linklater’s Dazed and Confused, in 1993. Linklater was there for a Q&A session afterwards. That was the first time I’d ever had a chance to ask the director of a film a question right after the credits rolled (I wasn’t writing about film yet-just a movie geek). I can’t remember what I asked (some dopey query about the 70s soundtrack), but I thought that was so fucking cool (I’d recently moved to Seattle after living in a cultural vacuum for a decade-what can I say?). Another memorable event I attended that year was a tribute to John Schlesinger (with the director on hand).
In honor of the 50th anniversary, SIFF has launched the SIFF Archives-explained thusly in a press release:
The SIFF Archives are the culmination of nearly two years of compiling, digitizing, and organizing materials from SIFF’s past. You’ll find interactive flipbooks of each Festival’s catalog, photo and video assets, full lists of the feature films that we played each year, and other highlights. Learning about the history of Seattle’s film scene has never been easier, and it’s all publicly available—for researchers and the casually interested alike.
It is a fascinating archive to peruse; I especially enjoyed the poster gallery. Some faves:
Whoa. I just realized that this will be the 32nd SIFF I’ve attended (in one form or the other). As (an alleged) film critic, I have been covering SIFF for Hullabaloo now for 18 years (since 2007), but as always, the looming question is – where to begin? I’ve found the trick to navigating festivals is developing a 6th sense for films in your wheelhouse (so I embrace my OCD and channel it like a cinematic dowser).
Let’s dive in!
This years Opening Night Gala selection is Thelma (USA). Described as an action comedy, the film (directed by Josh Margolin) stars June Squibb, who will be presented with the 2024 Golden Space Needle Award for Outstanding Contribution to Cinema in a separate event on May 11th. Squibb has had a 70-year career on stage, TV and the big screen (she was nominated for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her role in the 2013 film Nebraska).
Politics, politics. I’m intrigued to see Bonjour, Switzerland (Switzerland) a “…socially conscious slapstick political comedy about multilingualism [in which] a Swiss referendum leaves the country with only one official language—French—much to the chagrin of the German- and Italian-speaking citizens.” The documentary The Battle for Laikipia (Kenya) looks at a long-standing “and increasingly deadly” battle over land rights in a region of Kenya between indigenous peoples and ranchers of European descent. And Before It Ends (Denmark) is a drama set near the end of WW2 about a Danish school principal facing a moral dilemma over civilian refugees who have been housed at his school by Nazi military directive.
Speaking of Nazis…Hitchcock’s Pro-Nazi Film? (France) offers a challenging reappraisal of Alfred Hitchcock’s 1944 WW2 drama, Lifeboat. Now for something completely different…Rainier: A Beer Odyssey (USA) is a behind-the-scenes look at the marvelously inventive (and frequently hilarious) Rainier Beer TV ad campaigns that ran through the 70s and 80s. I’m a sucker for nature docs, so I am hoping to get a peek at Songs of Earth (Norway), described as a “breathtaking and immersive nature documentary, and Norway’s official Oscar submission”, the film was co-exec produced by Wim Wenders and Liv Ullman.
Always with the drama: I’m pretty jazzed to see Close Your Eyes (Spain), which is the first film in 30 years from heralded director Victor Erice (Spirit of the Beehive). From another venerable international filmmaker: In Our Day (South Korea) is auteur Hong Sang-soo’s 30th feature, described as “two parallel stories thematically link together—an actress unsure of her future, and an aging poet unsure of his past.” The New Boy (Australia) features the ever-versatile Cate Blanchett as a nun in the Outback charged with schooling a young Aboriginal orphan who may harbor supernatural powers.
Come on Otto, let’s do some crimes: Scorched Earth (Germany) promises to be a “…tense, tight-lipped art-house thriller that recalls the work of Jean-Pierre Melville and Michael Mann, [in which] a criminal returns to Berlin for a big-time art heist, only for Murphy’s Law to take effect.” Right in my wheelhouse. Lies We Tell (Ireland) is described as a “…smart modern reworking of Sheridan Le Fanu’s gothic novel Uncle Silas“, and The Extortion (Argentina) concerns an airline pilot with a potentially career-jeopardizing secret who becomes embroiled in a “…world of intrigue and corruption.” Fasten your seat-belts!
I always especially look forward to SIFF’s music-related fare. Here are several I’m keen on…the doc Luther: Never Too Much (USA) examines the life and career of the late great singer-songwriter Luther Vandross; Scala! (UK) takes a butcher’s at “…a repertory house of ill repute with enough nose-thumbing alternative programming, midnight madness, illicit pornography, and transgressive politics that it would make Margaret Thatcher’s head explode”, and Saturn Return (Spain) is a biopic about Granada indie music group Los Planetas.
Obviously, I’ve barely scratched the surface. I’ll be plowing through the catalog and sharing reviews with you beginning next Saturday. In the meantime, visit the SIFF site for full details on the films, event screenings, special guests, panel discussions and more.
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on April 20, 2024)
Dreadlocks can’t smoke him pipe in peaceToo much informers and too much beastToo much watchie watchie watchie, too much su-su su-su suToo much watchie watchie watchie, too much su-su su-su su
-from “Tenement Yard”, by Jacob Miller
Happy Holiday! How about some good news? Via the AP:
Saturday marks marijuana culture’s high holiday, 4/20, when college students gather — at 4:20 p.m. — in clouds of smoke on campus quads and pot shops in legal-weed states thank their customers with discounts.
This year’s edition provides an occasion for activists to reflect on how far their movement has come, with recreational pot now allowed in nearly half the states and the nation’s capital. Many states have instituted “social equity” measures to help communities of color, harmed the most by the drug war, reap financial benefits from legalization. And the White House has shown an openness to marijuana reform.
The origins of the date, and the term “420” generally, were long murky. Some claimed it referred to a police code for marijuana possession or that it derived from Bob Dylan’s “Rainy Day Women No. 12 & 35,” with its refrain of “Everybody must get stoned” — 420 being the product of 12 times 35.
But the prevailing explanation is that it started in the 1970s with a group of bell-bottomed buddies from San Rafael High School, in California’s Marin County north of San Francisco, who called themselves “the Waldos.” A friend’s brother was afraid of getting busted for a patch of cannabis he was growing in the woods at nearby Point Reyes, so he drew a map and gave the teens permission to harvest the crop, the story goes.
During fall 1971, at 4:20 p.m., just after classes and football practice, the group would meet up at the school’s statue of chemist Louis Pasteur, smoke a joint and head out to search for the weed patch. They never did find it, but their private lexicon — “420 Louie” and later just “420” — would take on a life of its own. […]
Some celebrations are bigger than others: The Mile High 420 Festival in Denver, for example, typically draws thousands and describes itself as the largest free 4/20 event in the world. Hippie Hill in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park has also attracted massive crowds, but the gathering was canceled this year, with organizers citing a lack of financial sponsorship and city budget cuts. […]
The number of states allowing recreational marijuana has grown to 24 after recent legalization campaigns succeeded in Ohio, Minnesota and Delaware. Fourteen more states allow it for medical purposes, including Kentucky, where medical marijuana legislation that passed last year will take effect in 2025. Additional states permit only products with low THC, marijuana’s main psychoactive ingredient, for certain medical conditions.
But marijuana is still illegal under federal law. It is listed with drugs such as heroin under Schedule I of the Controlled Substances Act, meaning it has no federally accepted medical use and a high potential for abuse.
The Biden administration, however, has taken some steps toward marijuana reform. The president has pardoned thousands of people who were convicted of “simple possession” on federal land and in the District of Columbia.
The Department of Health and Human Services last year recommended to the Drug Enforcement Administration that marijuana be reclassified as Schedule III, which would affirm its medical use under federal law.
According to a Gallup poll last fall, 70% of adults support legalization, the highest level yet recorded by the polling firm and more than double the roughly 30% who backed it in 2000.
Nice to see more and more forward-thinking states joining the “over-the-counter”-culture, with a new shopping list: Milk, bread, eggs, and ganja. In Washington state, we’ve been smoking our pipes in peace since 2014. So I thought I would welcome the newbies to our cannabis club by sharing my picks for the top five Rasta movies, in alphabetical order…seen?
Countryman– Writer-director Dickie Jobson’s 1982 low-budget wonder has it all. Adventure. Mysticism. Political intrigue. Martial Arts. And weed. Lots of weed. A pot-smuggling American couple crash land their small plane near a beach and are rescued by our eponymous hero (Edwin Lothan, billed in the credits as “himself”), a fisherman/medicine man/Rasta mystic/philosopher/martial arts expert who lives off the land (Lothan, who passed away in 2016, was a fascinating figure in real life).
Unfortunately, the incident has not gone unnoticed by a corrupt, politically ambitious military colonel, who wants to frame the couple as “CIA operatives” who are trying to disrupt the upcoming elections. But first he has to outwit Countryman, which is no easy task (“No one will find you,” Countryman assures the couple, “You are protected here.” “Protected by who?” the pilot asks warily. “Elements brother, elements,” says Countryman, with an enigmatic chuckle). I love this movie. It’s wholly unique, with a fabulous reggae soundtrack.
The Harder They Come– While the Jamaican film industry didn’t experience an identifiable “new wave” until the early 80s, Perry Henzel’s 1973 rebel cinema classic laid the foundation. From its opening scene, when wide-eyed country boy Ivan (reggae’s original superstar, Jimmy Cliff) hops off a Jolly Bus in the heart of Kingston to the strains of Cliff’s “You Can Get It If You Really Want”, to a blaze of glory finale, it maintains an ever-forward momentum, pulsating all the while to the heartbeat riddim of an iconic soundtrack. Required viewing!
Rockers– Admittedly, this island-flavored take on the Robin Hood legend is short on plot, but what it may lack in complexity is more than compensated for by its sheer exuberance (and I have to watch it at least once a year). Grecian writer-director Theodoros Bafaloukos appears to have cast every reggae luminary who was alive at the time in his 1978 film. It’s the tale of a Rasta drummer (Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace) who has had his beloved motorcycle stolen (customized Lion of Judah emblem and all!) by a crime ring run by a local fat cat.
Needless to say, the mon is vexed. So he rounds up a posse of fellow musicians (Richard “Dirty Harry” Hall, Jacob Miller, Gregory Isaacs, Robbie Shakespeare, Big Youth, Winston Rodney, et. al.) and they set off to relieve this uptown robber baron of his ill-gotten gains and re-appropriate them accordingly. Musical highlights include Miller performing “Tenement Yard”, and Rodney warbling his haunting and hypnotic Rasta spiritual “Jah No Dead” a cappella.
Stepping Razor: Red X– Legalize it! Nicholas Campbell’s unflinching portrait of musician Peter Tosh (who co-founded the Wailers with Bob Marley and Bunny Wailer) is not your typical rockumentary. While there is plenty of music, the focus is on Tosh’s political and spiritual worldview, rendered via archival footage, dramatic reenactments, and excerpts from a personal audio diary in which Tosh expounds on his philosophies and rages against the “Shitstem. “
One interesting avenue Campbell pursues suggests that Tosh was the guiding force behind the Wailers, and that Marley looked up to Tosh as a mentor in early days (I suspect that it was more of a Lennon/McCartney dynamic). A definite ‘must-see’ for reggae fans.
Word, Sound, and Power – Jeremiah Stein’s 1980 documentary clocks in at just over an hour but is the best film I’ve seen about roots reggae music and Rastafarian culture. Barely screened upon its original theatrical run and long coveted by music geeks as a Holy Grail until its belated DVD release in 2008 (when I was finally able to loosen my death grip on the sacred, fuzzy VHS copy that I had taped off of USA’s Night Flight back in the early 80s), it’s a wonderful time capsule of a particularly fertile period for the Kingston music scene.
Stein interviews key members of The Soul Syndicate Band, a group of studio players who were the Jamaican version of The Wrecking Crew; they backed Jimmy Cliff, Bob Marley, Burning Spear, and Toots Hibbert (to name but a few). Beautifully photographed and edited, with outstanding live performances by the Syndicate. Musical highlights include “Mariwana”, “None Shall Escape the Judgment”, and a spirited acoustic version of “Harvest Uptown”.
Bonus tracks!
OK …if you’d rather chill, here’s a mixtape. Headphones and munchies on standby:
(Originally posted on Digby’s Hullabaloo on April 13, 2024)
I’m not sure if I can chalk this up to kismet, or to the fact I’ve seen literally thousands of films in my 68 years on this silly planet…but as the Giant says to Agent Cooper in Twin Peaks: “It is happening again.”
Last week, I watched a 2022 Blu-ray reissue of The Limey that I recently ordered (nice 4k restoration). I hadn’t seen the film since its original theatrical release. In case you are unfamiliar, Steven Soderbergh’s taut 1999 neo-noir centers on a British career criminal (Terrence Stamp) who gets out of prison and makes a beeline for America to investigate the suspicious death of his estranged daughter. He learns she had a relationship with an L.A.-based record producer (Peter Fonda), who may be able to shed some light on her untimely demise. It’s fast-moving and intelligently scripted, with an outstanding supporting cast.
There are snippets throughout depicting Stamp’s character as a young man. Contrary to convention, Soderbergh didn’t cast a younger lookalike actor for these flashbacks, but rather used clips obviously taken from one of Stamp’s 1960s UK films. When I first saw The Limey in 1999, I remember thinking how clever this was, but didn’t feel compelled to investigate which film the clips were taken from. As I learned from one of the Blu-ray’s extras, that film was the 1967 kitchen sink drama Poor Cow, directed by Ken Loach. Turns out it was the legendary UK filmmaker’s first theatrical feature (ashamed and driven by the fear of having my critic’s license revoked, I quickly ordered a Blu-ray copy as an act of contrition).
I know what you’re thinking (“Is there a …point to this fascinating anecdote?”). Fast-forward a day or two, and I received a link to screen Ken Loach’s (self-proclaimed) “final” film. See the symmetry there?
[awkward silence]
Anyway…The bookend of a triptych of working-class dramas set in Northeast England (preceded by I, Daniel Blake in 2016 and Sorry We Missed You! in 2019), The Old Oak marks the 87-year-old director’s 28th film.
The story (scripted by Paul Laverty) is set in 2016, in an unnamed “pit town” on the Northeast coast of England, and centers on TJ (Dave Turner), who is barely making ends meet as the owner and proprietor of The Old Oak pub. He inherited the pub from his late mother, who had invested in the property with the settlement money she had received after TJ’s father died in a mining accident. TJ himself began working in the local mine just before a major strike in the mid-80s. After the mine closed, he threw himself into community organizing. Depressed over a broken marriage, he’s become more withdrawn in recent years.
TJ was born and raised in the village, so he’s known the pub’s hardcore regulars since his school days. Many of them worked alongside TJ in the mine, and are suffering similar economic hardships, living off modest pensions or on the dole. You get the impression daily life for the town’s residents has become predictably drab; a reliable disappointment. In addition to providing a cozy space where they can toss back a pint or two and forget their problems, The Old Oak has become the de facto community center.
The general torpor of the locale is about to receive a goosing. As I mentioned earlier, Laverty and Loach have set their story in 2016, which was 2 years into the implementation of the UK’s Syrian Vulnerable Persons Resettlement Scheme. The program offered safety to 20,000 Syrians who were fleeing the crisis in their home country. A large portion of the refugees ended up getting resettled in economically depressed communities (like the fictional ex-mining town in the film) due to the low cost of housing.
One day, a busload of Syrian refugees appears and disembarks in the center of town. Unfortunately, not all the locals appear willing to roll out the welcome wagon. When xenophobic catcalling escalates into a scuffle that results in a young Syrian woman’s camera getting damaged, TJ intervenes and defuses the situation. TJ learns that Yara (Ebla Mari) has picked up her English skills from working as a volunteer in a refugee camp in Jordan. The camera is her most prized possession, as it was given to her by her father, who is imprisoned back in Syria. TJ and Yara strike up a friendship that fuels the heart of the narrative.
The Old Oak is rife with Loach’s trademarks; not the least of which is giving his cast plenty of room to breathe. The entire ensemble (which ranges from first-time film actors to veteran players) delivers relatable, naturalistic performances. Hovering somewhere between Do the Right Thing and Ikuru, The Old Oak is raw, uncompromising, and genuinely moving (so rare at the multiplex nowadays), with an uplifting message of hope and reconciliation. If this is indeed its director’s swan song-what a lovely, compassionate note to go out on.
