Sunday, February 24, 2013

A SAVAGE DOSE OF THE U.K. BLUES


We begin with a fair pair of grit laced yet quality essays on the socio-economic trials and travails of two very disparate children of patchwork families subsisting below the poverty line under the umbrella of the United Kingdom. 'Ratcatcher' (1999) from Lynne Ramsay and 'Fish Tank' (2009) from Andrea Arnold offer the fine details behind the surface dressing of the so-called ghetto life. Each filmmaker serves to instill a legit level of humility and, in turn, humanity in its respective protagonists and supporting players. This is just a brief sampling of what makes matching these pictures together here so natural and necessary.
'Ratcatcher' founds and develops its specific dramatics around a rather emotionally muted young lad named James Gillespie (William Eadie) who finds himself an unexpected participant in a fatal turn of events at the end result of some seemingly harmless horseplay with a neighborhood chum. Holding his shame in tow, James motions his way about the bleak underclass housing community (one of many run down environs also known in the regional parlance as 'schemes') of early 1970s era Glasgow, Scotland that he is stuck referring to as his home. The place is in an extra rugged state of disarray as of late, the trash collectors have gone on strike and thus have thrown a large scale setback in front of a massive demolition and relocation program set to be initiated by city planners in hopes of boosting the lifestyles of these lower rung, working class citizens. The pile up of refuse and cast off bags of god knows what have given rise to a rampant population of filthy rodents. This dilemma adds additional strain on James' already over taxed homelife which he shares with a pair of female siblings, a loving, if battle tested, Ma (Mandy Matthews) and a pub prone Da (Tommy Flanagan). The mounting despair can only be abated by way of fleeing the cluttered nest and exploring the surrounding terrain.
The ongoing burden of guilt coupled with an expected dose of childlike curiosity leads James to make his way via bus to one of the impending new housing development locations set to the far reaches of the city. Here the fella attempts to satiate his hunger to break off from the norm by venturing into one of the unfinished units and soaking in the sheer lack of discord within. The scene completes itself (and displays the director's background in still photography) as James approaches a window that frames a vast and inviting open field that the boy can't help but climb out into. Returning homeward after this seemingly purifying aside, James tries to bide his time and the cold remainder of the narrative by blending in with many fellow kids in and around his crusty stomping grounds. He befriends an awkward lass named Margaret (Leanne Mullen) who is often bullied and a bit sexually disrespected by area punks and has lost her glasses in a nearby canal. The two form a bond around their shared unhappiness and relative lack of life experience. One other character of note is the very off and right goony Kenny (John Miller) who appears to be a slight touch retarded or maybe that much more afflicted by the brutal truism of his surroundings. At any rate, in the film's most blatant side step from harsh realism, this goofy kid arrives on the scene with a brand new pet mouse in tow (a kind of fitting riff on the ever present threat of the cruder, garbage sniffing vermin) and, after some predictable harassment from the bully squad, he sends the little creature (tied to a balloon) straight to the moon.
'Ratcatcher' is a mini-masterwork of genuine, childlike disenchantment bouncing off the unflinching realism that informs the surrounding world. Lynne Ramsay works with a natural lean to the material and location (she is a Glasgow native, raised around the time period on display here) and composes each passing scene with budding master's touch (it was her debut feature). The young actors are guided to performances very much on par with the more seasoned elders, Tommy Flanagan baring a fairly familiar, scared mug previously seen in the likes of Mel Gibson's Oscar whore 'Braveheart'. Ramsay made one other picture that I have yet to see, 'Morvern Callar' before laboring without success to adapt the popular novel 'The Lovely Bones' for the screen, taking some extended time off and eventually returning with the far more polished but every bit as effective 'We Need To Talk About Kevin' with Tilda Swinton which addresses the hot button topic of school violence more potently than anything this humble movie nerd has yet come across. Her next pending project is a crime thriller of sorts set to feature Nataile Portman entitled 'Jane Got a Gun'.
The lower income housing misadventures continue with 'Fish Tank' director Andrea Arnold's sophomore effort (following the festival beloved 'Red Road'). This time we get to join in on the rather lone wolf wanderings of one Mia Williams (Katie Jarvis, spotted by a casting agent having a spirited shouting match at a train station) as she fills the void of her drab day to day routine in desolate Eastern London by dancing to rap beats solo in another of those plentiful abandoned buildings these projects provide so readily. You see, Mia lives with her slutty party girl mom (Kierston Wareing) and bratty younger sis (Rebecca Griffiths) and things often lead to loud outbursts and blatant animosity. To offset this, Mia takes to her own travels about her neighborhood's less than inspiring sprawls. Along the way she discovers an unhealthy equine tied to a fence and tries to free it out of sympathy but is foiled by a couple of wayward chaps who give her a right hassle for her violation of their space. This confrontation is quelled by another, more level headed boy named Billy (Harry Treadaway) who slowly gels to Mia and may ultimately offer up a means of escape, if only the lady can clear one unforeseen hurtle.
Being as her age is around 15, Mia is coping with the burgeoning weight of hormones and sexual confusion, not an easy task on its own. Into the fray of this budding wealth of chaos arrives momma's latest boy toy, the dashing and charming Connor O' Reily (man of the moment, Michael Fassbender, all cool and confident) who says and does everything right until it leads to something a bit out of line and a secret is revealed that all but destroys what little constructive structure this family ever even had in the first place. As was the case with 'Ratcatcher', this film feeds off the strength of performance as well as its bold, realism drenched aesthetic structure. Andrea Arnold holds much in common with the aforementioned Lynne Ramsay in that both adhere to a faithful rendering of locale and drawing a raw, organic measure of realism from their chosen casts. The symmetry does not end there, both are natives of the U.K. (Arnold is from Kent, England) who started their respective careers placing it under the microscope (first in shorts, later with features) before branching out as bigger scale projects came along. Arnold has followed the strong 'Fish Tank' with her take on the Emily Brontë classic 'Wuthering Heights' which was the first project she did not have a hand in developing from day one, yet took control of and made her own, shooting the film in a raw and fast style much in sych with the rest of her output. I think 'Fish Tank' will strike audiences as another strong, relevant and textured study of multiple, well developed characters with a powerhouse young talent as its nucleus, I don't know of any other work this Katie Javis gal has done as of late but she displays undeniable skill here in her maiden bow. Well worth the effort in tracking down my fellow film geeks, I mean that.
Both films are available on DVD care the eternally reliable Criterion Collection (criterion.com), they look great as is the standard for this fine company and feature early shorts (including Arnold's Oscar winning 'Wasp') and assorted interview material. Recommended for art film snobs with a touch of ghetto curiosity in their blood.
ALSO,
On the immediate horizon, the 12th annual edition of the Fox Valley based Wildwood Film Festival is about ready to share its latest batch of short film sensations from all over (yet each with some form of connection with this here dairy state). The fest will be held again at the Kimberly Clark Theater in the prestigious Performing Arts Center located at the heart of College Avenue in downtown Appleton and has expanded in both volume and diversity of content. There are close to 40 separate films set to unfold over four separate showcases throughout the day on Saturday, March 16th at 1, 3, 6 and 8pm respectively covering everything from comedy to drama to experimental cinema and music videos with even a western thrown in for good measure. What stands out the most for me is, according to the weighty list of titles and descriptions shared with me by one of the fest's brainchilds, Jason Buss, is a fairly hefty number of science fiction options with potentially engrossing plotlines.
Chief among these are 'The Wheel' which tells of a youth charged with minding a mammoth wheel that serves to balance the well being of the world entire, until an unforeseen hindrance rears its pesky head, 'Valhalla' a film that one can only hope will at least somewhat live up to its lofty title as it plays out its saga of a salvage worker who stands to make a startling discovery in the lower reaches of an abandoned medical facility he has wandered into and 'Angel's Tear' posits a brink of extinction scenario wherein the human race begins to fade from the mortal coil leaving a scant patchwork of survivors to face an uncertain future by looking into the past.
Additionally on this year's epic roster are 'Brother Barry' about an elderly gentleman whose attempts to become a monk are met with a succession of comic setbacks, 'Hopping for Brew' a documentary focusing on the development of hop growing and craft brewing here in Wisconsin, which has got to have easy appeal to a great many of our citizens, 'Coffee or Tea?' which touches on a formerly straight arrow's first foray into the homosexual dating game and 'Extreme, Loyal, Victorious-The Packer Fan Experience' a handy sampling of filmmaker Meghan Parkansky's ambitious examination of the hectic pool of insanity that is Green Bay based NFL football fandom. The film imbeds itself in the heart of the matter by seeking out the most passionate and dedicated Packer Backers who are then encouraged to tell their stories. Bonus point, the film was crafted during the 2010 season, which culminated in the ultimate game day happy ending, a Super Bowl championship. Lastly, there is 'Yellow Hill : The Stranger's Tale' described as a Chinese Western produced and starring established Asian actress Bai Ling (of 'The Crow' and 'Crank 2-High Voltage') as the titular stranger who enters a small town in search of a mysterious piece of her past that leads to some truly startling revelations. She is met with kind assistance and violent opposition as the truth comes to light. The film was shot in part at a soundstage in Milwaukee by a filmmaker (Ross Bigley) who hails from Madison.
This year will also see the introduction of a seminar dubbed 'Filmmaking 101' to be hosted/taught by Craig Knitt (another Wildwood mastermind) and Tony Reale (from the informative website Next Wave DV) which is free to the public and located in the Pippin Room of the Radisson Paper Valley Hotel located across the street and down a bit from the P.A.C. The program kicks in at 10am and covers the basic principles of the mechanics of crafting moving pictures, from pre-production to actual shooting and finally post work. Seating is of the first come, first served variety, so don't be late.
As with each passing edition of the Wildwood Film Festival, the complete details on tickets, film schedule breakdown and any subordinate happenings or whatever else may pertain to the fest (merch, volunteering, past fest info, contacting the powers behind the scenes) can be easily obtained online at wildwoodfilmfest.com
Support the beast that is local filmmaking.

Friday, June 29, 2012

A SERBIAN FILM. 'Uncut' 103min version.

Just how far out would you be willing to stick your proverbial neck for the people closest to you? That is the eternally taxing query proposed by the lucky flick of this month, 'A Serbian Film'. This is a die hard and exhaustingly savage response to the above outlaid question. The main man of this ruthless study in extremes is Milos (Srdan Todorovic), a one time adult film phenom now reserved to quiet, idyllic day passing with his statuesque wife and plucky young son. Still, times grow to prove trying on the family budget, this is Serbia we're talking here, not the most stable slab of earth in which to set roots in. Milos' nest egg once so fattened by years of studly on screen behavior is rapidly dwindling to a point where he can barely manage the funding of his little seed's much sought after singing lessons. A pity, such a growing dilemma this once fertile performer has found himself sinking into.
Enter a dear old friend and former porn flick colleague who introduces a potential savior into the mix. It is a suave and driven force of shady nature named Vukmir (Sergej Trifunovic), a well established (care of what, exactly, is never fully clarified) individual and would be smut peddler with sights set on absorbing Milos' well versed sex based skill set into a new and very clandestine project which he provides nil for plot description but ambitiously terms as 'artistic porn'. What this Vukmir has to offer up in return is a compensation package that will set Milos and his family cell up well beyond the extent of their lives. The potent temptation of this sudden proposal coupled with the rising depletion of confidence in his current retirement plan work this poor fellow's perspective in favor of acceptance, he signs his given name on the contract and presses on into what will reveal itself to be a very long haul.
The meat of all this business kicks in uneventfully enough, Milos arrives with nary a clue at an abandoned orphanage (a portent of future acts unspeakable? Hmmmmm, could be) and has only to wander in the company of a few stone serious camera men and bare witness to an eerie yet distant variant on the theme of mother/daughter discord. A tame if fitfully creepy warm up for what transpires to be an increasingly debauched and sinister lesson in total taboo obliteration. Because our intrepid hero holds no insight into the particulars of this skin-flick scenario he's jumped in bed with, Vukmir and whatever powers may back him (there is a suggestion of such, but, little more) are free to trample on his expectations and psyche with any manner of button pressing obscenities they so choose, and they do choose many. By the time Milos rises to his limit in relation to the fattening level of perversion, somewhere around the time a certain rough sex heavy set piece is revealed to be observed by a doll faced pre-teen (hey, even porn stars have morals, dont'cha know?), our hero decides to back track his way out of the whole deal.
At a sit down with the fiercely passionate (and more than slightly off kilter) Vukmir over some top shelf whiskey to discuss their burgeoning creative impasse, the director soars into a thick tirade that spans from basic disappointment (he lionizes Milos as an incomparable professional) to a metaphoric explication on how the work they are clawing at will serve to better this childish mess of a country they are stuck calling home. This banter leads in a roundabout way to a private sampling of what Vukmir sees as the next plateau in full fledged derangement, 'Newborn Porn' (a designation that should give the reader clear indication as to whether or not this film is, at all, for them) which finally sends Milos scrambling for the exit.
Unfortunately, all cannot end so easily after one toils this deeply in such a carnal hell. Milos barely makes it a handful of Belgrade city blocks before he becomes overpowered by some manner of drug (a cattle aphrodisiac, slipped into his drink) and when next he gains consciousness finds himself lying in his own bed, battered raw and dressed in blood. The remainder of 'A Serbian Film' steadily fills in the nihilistic details as Milos must weave together, in painful, unfiltered fashion, his absorption into an unprecedented sexual inferno suitable for raping the soul out of any living thing and believe me, many a living thing duth get raped.
You may ask yourself, rightfully, what would compel any filmmaker of even faintly decent standing to pull together such an over the top meditation on the reduction of the human mechanism to a lower than gutter level of behavior? Is such a graphic cataloging of multiple orgasms through bloodshed, torture tactics on high and cruel bodily defamation serviceable to any legitimate cause outside of garish shock horror disposability? Is it borne out of said filmmakers region of origin and the long lasting impact of the notorious and less than inviting antics of its late former president Slobodan Milosevic, alleged and/or proven to have a hand in a sad and prolific list of wrong doings, ranging from ethnic cleansing and all out war tactics on neighboring countries and his own civilians to enacted political murder plots against direct opponents or fools who dare to question him. The filmmakers have claimed the film as a direct mockery of commonplace cinema in Serbia littered with pictures that are moronic, sanitary and embarrassing in quality, my guess is it's the lack of gonzo rape scenes that set them off.
Upon its completion (and after a protracted hassle in getting the film transferred from Red One generated digital info to a 35mm release print) 'A Serbian Film' spent the initial run of its place in the film community as an outlaw product (in tandem with another area feature thing entitled 'The Life and Death of a Porno Gang', some kind of dodgy sounding beast I have yet to run my eyes across) either banned outright or truncated by censor groups across the globe (what sense does it make to carve out some four minutes of shocking shit just so a film can carry the commercial death mark of an adults only NC-17 rating? kinda makes no damn sense) and even inspired some countries to threaten the creators with serious legal measures even though the film (loaded as it may be with all manner of vile physical punishment for man, woman and child) is an official, staged and fictitious work with smooth, competent cinematography, editing and sound. The actors are each native professionals and give it their all with Sergej Trifunovic even managing to have honed his craft as a crossover into big budget Hollywood product like 'Next' with Nicolas Cage, 'Savior' with Dennis Quaid and the more current 'The Whistleblower' (these latter two also touching on the dark repercussions in the Bosnian-Croatian-Serbain vicinity). Director Srdjan Spasojevic has even landed a spot in the 26 part, fan boy drool worthy, omnibus 'The ABC's of Horror' alongside such esteemed company as Ti West ('The Innkeepers'), Jason Eisener ('Hobo With A Shotgun'), Xavier Gans ('Hitman') and Ben Wheatley ('Kill List') for starters, so the cat has clearly evolved accordingly to build on this ultra troubling but clearly not law breaking debut. It's all fake kids, relax, this vivid coital horror show is just that, a show, albeit like a long, penetrative 'Jackass' stunt where most of the participants are naked and never stop bleeding.
But if you're expecting otherwise, may I suggest sticking to some sweet natured Rachel McAdams bullshit or whatever the next Nicholas Sparks adaptation may be? Also, despite the impression my words above may convey, I still think 'The Human Centipede 2' is worse.
The home vid phase of the film's release has been similarly convoluted and controversial. The major way to view this thing is care a streaming link at flixfling.com and a DVD/Blu-Ray version of both the 103 minute 'unrated' and 104 minute 'uncut' editions (care invinciblepictures.com). Various other versions, most a bit shorter, exist at multiple places across the globe (excepting wherever the film is still banned, like Norway, damn them prudish vikings) but don't go searching for it on Netflix or Redbox, not gonna happen.
Now, would I sincerely recommend 'A Serbian Film' to just anyone? Only if I knew they were genuinely depraved or if I didn't really like them.
and also,
EXIT HUMANITY.
Epic undead chaos (please don't stop me if you've heard this one before) set against the thick of the American Civil War. As recounted via present day narration (by Scottish actor Brian Cox) from a diary by the story's ever embattled lead (Mark Gibson), a man bent more than all else on finding his way to a safe haven and maybe even discovering an effective way to stave off the plague of walking corpses that is feverishly ravaging the countryside (and are responsible for the demise of his dear beloved wife). Slow and brooding survivalist dramatics ensue, but while the reasonable skills of director John Geddes and a stable cast that reaps the benefits of such B grade genre brand names as Bill Moseley, Dee Wallace and Stephen McHattie (that one guy who always pops up at random and could be easily confused for a 'Millennium' era Lance Henriksen if one is not paying attention), the film sags and drags under the weight of its own lofty goals.
The 113 minute running time fails the homegrown, Canadian project in that it crushes what seemingly devoted performers and technicians are able to pull together with a lack of comfortable resources. They could have copped a few influences from our local 'Dead Weight' darlings who had the blessed sense to keep their somewhat similar, man against unnatural menace, concept to a right tight and to the point duration below the 90 minute mark (this somber zombie frontier thing could have thrived on a bit more humor as well). Mark it down as a noble, unembarrassing failure. Overall worth a 'don't go to far out of your way' look, but should have left a far deeper mark. Not a bad title, though. (exithumanity.com)
PROMETHEUS.
Visionary grandaddy Ridley Scott steps back into the sci-fi juggernaut that first cemented his big screen career. Established in and around the very same timeframe and point in the galaxy as the original, seminal 'Alien', Sir Scott seeks to both address oft pondered questions and theoretical rumblings in relation to this breakthrough 1979 effort as well as foster a fair share of fresh, thought heady concepts for the fan base to chew on.
With yet another polished ensemble in tow (including that original girl with a dragon tattoo, Noomi Rapace and one of Tinseltown's current, top shelf 'it' boys, Michael Fassbender, who gets to fill the android slot this time out), Ridley and his trusty script hands, Jon Spaihts and Damon Lindelof (the latter being one of the main brains behind the knockout T.V. series 'Lost' who manages to inject a sense of open ended mystery fans of that show will find comfortably familiar) set their cast aboard the eponymous space ship on a mission to assist two starry eyed archaeologists in their quest to pin down the ominous race of E.T.s that may very well have fathered the human race. As can be expected, especially in the infamously hostile environment of this franchise, things go quite horrendously awry of the initial plan. These nosy ass folks discover that the 'truth' of all things is not something warm and awaiting embrace and, in fact,is better left the hell alone altogether.
This being a Ridley Scott joint, several key customary aspects are accurately represented. The technical side of the show is sheer top shelf splendor, particularly if taken in in both 'Real' 3-D and on an IMAX screen (we've got one down in Milwaukee) they are purely magnificent (the Icelandic location work alone is enough to seal it for me). The old stand by of moral code verses weighty corporate greed seeps into the narrative structure as well with the ever scheming Weyland Corp. represented here by both the frail founder Peter Weyland (Guy Pierce, smothered in meticulous old man make up) and his icy underling, Meredith Vickers (Charlize Theron). Thrilling set pieces abound and it's for damn sure this quasi-prequel trumps anything in this series to come out the factory post-1986.
The road to the meaning of life here is peppered with many a sinister obstacle. Does mankind ultimately glean any true benefit from a meet and greet with its progenitors? From the evidence presented in 'Prometheus', not so much. Yet I'm sure there's a handy sequel in the development stage just waiting to address this topic further.





nuff said, though I've probably said too much. killpeoplenamedrichard@yahoo.com