Compliance - Craig Zobel (2012)

“Compliance” clearly wants to be either a rigid psychological thriller or a profound statement on sexual sadism.

It is neither.

The film takes place mostly in the backroom of a fast food restaurant as a prank phone call, over the course of a few hours, leads to a rape.

But Craig Zobel’s screenplay, based on a true story, can’t keep up with its concept.

It starts with a great deal of promise as the tension starts to build, but the focus shifts quickly from the victimization of Becky, our protagonist to absolute wonder over the stupidity of the characters.

As the employees continue to believe the caller, who claims to be a policeman demanding a strip-search of a young girl, it’s impossible to believe none of them would question the caller’s credibility.

The film makes the case that at least some of the workers have been duped and are victims, just like Becky and that’s a conclusion I found strikingly offensive.

The employees are complicit in the crime, not only the manager, Sandra, who takes point on the search, but also co-workers like Kevin and Marti, who seem to know something is wrong but don’t help their friend.

The concept “Compliance” is based on is interesting and should have produced a thought provoking film.

Sadly, writer/director Craig Zobel just doesn’t have the capability of pulling that off.

Eccleston & McGregor on "Shallow Grave"

Christopher Eccleston & Ewan McGregor talk about the look of Danny Boyle's "Shallow Grave."

Black Swan - Darren Aronofsky (2010) - Video Review

Here's my video review of "Black Swan."

It doesn't have a single original thought to be found anywhere, but it's an effective psychological horror film nonetheless.

Black Swan Trailer - I Hate Darren Aronofsky

I got very excited when I saw the trailer for "Black Swan." Then I saw that it was a film by Darren Aronofsky.




I hated "Requiem for a Dream" with a the wildest kind of vengeance.

I liked "Pi" the first time I saw it, but it does not stand up to repeated viewings.

The rest of his films have just bored me.

In a nutshell, Darren Aronofsky, in this snob's humble opinion, is a flashy, show-off who loves editing montages but can't tell a story or develop a character to save his life.

Just my opinion.

But "Black Swan" looks good. Dare I hope?

Dare I?

I really want to like this movie. I hope it's the exception to the Aronofsky rule.

"Never Let Me Go" Video Review

Never Let Me Go - Mark Romanek (2010)

When life hands you a delightful surprise, sometimes you just say, "Thank you," and move on.



Like Franz Kafka's "Metamorphosis," Katsuo Ishiguro's "Never Let Me Go" might be an un-filmable novel, but hell if Romanek's adaptation isn't ambitious.

I'll just say it flat out. I adored this movie.

And my hopes were not high.

I worship this novel and I have to say, "One Hour Photo" was just an awful film.

I mean just terrible. It was a caricature of a psychological thriller.

I really thought Romanek was just a moron. Seriously.And "Never Let Me Go" is easily one of the greatest novels of the past decade.

So I braced myself for disappointment.

But oh my God, what a wonderful film.

It is so elegant.

I know that sounds pretentious, but I can't think of a better word.

Now if we could just get David Cronenberg to go ahead make his version of "The Metamorphosis," the universe will be whole.

Here's my video review.

Ne te retourne pas (Don’t Look Back) – Marina de Van (2009)

When I started watching this film, I had no idea what it was going to be about.

To tell the truth, I have a soft spot for French films, for some reason.

I have no idea what it is about that country, but their movies make sense to me.

Truffaut, Leconte, Alain Resnais, Gela Babluani, Alexandre Bustillo, Gaspar Noe, I love 'em all.

French films are beautiful and horrific. They move, inspire and scare the Christ out of me all at the same time.

"Ne te retourne pas" is no exception. It does all of those things at once and it does them very slowly and subtly.

Aside from that, I had seen de Van’s 2002 freak-fest “Dans ma Peau” (In My Skin) and to this day, I’m the only person I have met in real life who liked it.

And who doesn’t want to spend 100 minutes or so watching Sophie Marceau? (Well, as it turns out, the better part of half that time, anyway.)

I vaguely had the idea that it was going to be some kind of thriller.

So imagine my delight and surprise when I found myself completely lost and confused as hell about 12 or 13 minutes into the movie.

The film centers around Jeanne, a French trade writer who finally wants to write fiction, specifically autobiographical fiction.

The problem is, she can’t remember anything before she was 8-years-old.

The other problem is that while her work as a professional writer is exceptional, her first attempt at fiction is terrible.

It’s tepid, self-aware, disassociated, overly-descriptive and trite.

Of course this is because memories of childhood are more than just facts told to Jeanne by her mother. The novel is cold because Jeanne never felt, touched or tasted a childhood. Poor Jeanne.

Before long, Jeanne’s mind starts playing tricks on her. Or is her family just messing with her?

Little things start to seem out of place, like the kitchen table, and s

he catches her husband and children ges

turing ominously to each other, exchanging conspiratorial hand signals.

Of course, at this point, we, the audience have no idea what's going on, but that’s okay

because neither do any of the characte

rs. Is Jeanne going crazy? Is it a brain tumor or a legion?

Is it Satan?

Actually, there’s nothing that suggests anything supernatural, but whenever there are endless, baseless theories as to what’s happening in a movie, I always like to throw Satan into the mix.

Before long, Jeanne’s loving husband is actually changing into another man and then Jeanne finds herself morphing.

The scene where we first see her with half of her own face and half of a new face surprised me by how effectively creepy it was.

It’s impressive how we’re about half an hour into the film and we have no reason to be frightened, but for some reason, I’m finding myself with a severe case of the willies.

Again, we still have absolutely no idea what is going on. And that's a very good thing because none of the characters do, either.

The rest of the film plays out with Jeanne’s mind swapping out her perception of realities to the point where her husband, mother, children and herself are different people.

Jeanne goes on a journey to find who her ‘true’ mother, self, husband, and her whole reality actually is.

By the time we get to the 'twist ending' which I won't give away just on the principle of not spoiling films, the plot is no longer the point. This isn't a film where the story matters.

The chain of events is incidental. What’s important is Jeanne’s broken mind.

Toward the beginning of the film, there’s a scene that shows her mother playing poker in an apartment with a handful of friends around a small table.

Later, when Jeanne visits her mother, she’s playing poker in an enormous, elegant penthouse, filled with affluent gamers, security guards and high stakes.

When Jeanne’s reality is altered, it’s disturbing, especially when the change is subtle.

For me, the most jolting moments were toward the building when she would catch her husband and children exchanging those subtle hand signals out of the corner of her eye or in a reflection or on a home video.

Of course, they had no idea what she was talking about and watching the film, I believed them.

They were truly her loving family and meant her no harm.

I was just as lost as Jeanne was and that was what made the film so psychologically gruesome.

Because Christ, do any of us really have any kind of grasp on anything?

Watch this movie. Buy this movie. It’s a masterpiece.

Along with John Hillcoat’s adaptation of “The Road,” this is the second film to make me realize I put out my top 10 of 2009 too soon.

I need to wait like a year before doing those.

And, in case any of you care, right now, I'm listening to:

Glorious 39 – Stephen Poliakoff (2009)

I have to tell you, I was a bit disgruntled early into the film because, without spoiling anything for those of who will see this film, an actor I adore was gone in the first 23 minutes.

Crap.

His part was short, but it was passionate and well worth the top billing his name got. As for the film, it takes a while to find its feet. I was not sure for a while what kind of movie it was and actually, that is more than okay with me.

To be honest, if I’m not sure if I’m going to be watching a love story or a political drama or a mystery or maybe even a ghost story, it enhances the entire experience and I went into this film completely cold.

Glorious 39 debuted at the Toronto Film Festival in September and it kind of slipped under the radar. I understand why. It’s the kind of film that quietly seeps into you.

I didn’t even know I was being affected by it until it was almost over and I wasn’t sure it was memorable until a week later I realized that I’d thought about it every day since I saw it.

The film opens with an ultimately dispensable bookmark. It’s an ominous introduction featuring Christopher Lee recalling the story of a girl who was lost long ago, before the war.

As the story unfolds, the turns it takes are gradual. It seems innocent on the surface, but it isn’t too long before there’s a menacing quality just under its skin.

By the time our heroine, Anne hears the menacing recording of poor Hector, presumably murdered Parliament member and foe of Neville Chamberlain screaming for mercy from God knows what, we are duly and properly unsettled.

As the conspiracy grows, Anne’s family members very gradually grow more menacing.

For those Doctor Who fans out there, if you remember Human Nature & Family of Blood, Anne’s siblings take on a very ‘mother-of-mine,’ ‘sister-of-mine’ quality to them. Especially her brother, Ralph.

I don’t want to give too much away because I want everyone who reads this to seek this film out and watch it. As far as political thrillers go, you really can’t do any better than this one. It works in so many ways.

There’s a sequence that revolves around taking pets in to be euthanized. Putting the family cats down is incidental to the plot.

It’s the other things happening around them at the time that are critical to the story, but that whole atmosphere of calm, tranquil death is just so terrible and peaceful at the same time. When we see the bodies of the animals being heaped onto pyres, it hardly seems awful.

That’s the kind of lull this film draws you into and then jolts you out of.

Truly, I don’t want to give away any more except to say that you will be disappointed by the ending bookmark, so be prepared for that.

But the end of the story itself is perfect. The revelations are timed beautifully and never feel manufactured even for a moment.

Each trust and each betrayal is genuine and painful. And the one final mercy shown in the film truly feels precious.

So, fans of the Doctor, seek out this film because you miss David Tennant. That’s why I got it. But then find yourself absorbed in one of those rare films that works as a character study, a theme and a narrative.

Das Weisse Band - Michael Haneke (2009)

Let's just get this part out of the way. "Das Weisse Band" ("The White Ribbon") from Germany should have won the Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film.

I am still astonished that the Academy gave the prize to Juan Jose Campanella’s adequate but ultimately forgettable cold-case drama, "The Secret in Their Eyes" from Argentina.

Both "Un Prophète" and "The Milk of Sorrow" were better than "Secret."

And here's the kicker. "The Secret in Their Eyes" was a very good film. It just shows how strong the Foreign Language Film category was this year.

Although how did "Sin Nombre" get overlooked?

"Das Weisse Band" wasn't just the best in the category of Foreign Language Film. It was a better film than any of the ten films nominated for Best Picture.

Michael Haneke constructs a disturbing tale of ritualistic punishment under the guise of either religion or responsible child-rearing.

The episodic nature of Ribbon works so beautifully. Each scene could easily stand on its own as an exceptionally strong short film.

And there is a mystery surrounding a series of either unfortunate or sinisterly planned accidents in a German village in the year or so leading up to World War I.

As the pastor, the schoolteacher, the doctor and the baron deal with the children of the small town in their alternately sadistic and confused ways, they learn that the Archduke of Austria has been assassinated in Sarajevo.

It’s like the evil from the outside world is seeping into the town. Or is it the other way around?

Haneke has a long history of hypnotizing and unsettling us at the same time with films like "Funny Games" and "Cache."

When I watch one of his films, I am stunned that he can imagine a world where human beings are capable of such intense and profound evil, yet he presents it so casually.

When a child is ushered into a room by his parents and the door is closed behind them, that shot of the white door that we stay on for maybe 8 or 9 seconds has more tension and dread than anything in any horror film I've seen.

"Das Weisse Band" is Haneke's best film to date and as moving as Claudia Llosa’s meditation on illness and sexual abuse, "The Milk of Sorrow" from Peru is, Haneke deserved to be honored by the Academy.

(Frankly, had Haneke lost to "Sorrow," or even "Un Prophète," I don’t think it would have bothered me.)

Haneke has long been admired for in the film community, both here and in Europe.



I, for one, certainly thought his haunting tale of ritualistic punishment and a serious of mysterious tragedies in a small town in pre-WWI Germany was one of the night’s foregone conclusions.Alas and alack.

Antichrist - Lars von Trier (2009)

WARNING: Antichrist is a movie that will offend almost everybody. My review of it is blunt and I don't shy from talking about its content. Please stop reading if you don't want to hear about graphic violence, mutilation, harsh religious themes and some profanity.

This film elicited such a strong reaction from me that I found myself unwilling to censor myself when it came to language, so don't read this if you're not up to it.

Before I start, let me say that I would absolutely recommend that about 90% of you not see Lars von Trier's new masterpiece, Antichrist.

It is unbelievably hard to watch. If Antichrist were food, it would be Guatemalan insanity peppers.

Yes, it is brilliant and von Trier comes closer than ever to reaching the greatness of Breaking the Waves, (#28 on my top 100 list if you were wondering) but seriously, I would not wish this film on most people.

The vast majority of you will not appreciate or understand that and I do not mean that as an insult in any way.

On the contrary, I think that there must be something wrong with me the way I connected so deeply with Charlotte Gainsbourg's character, the figurative Antichrist for whom the film is named, and felt like I understood this movie so well.

Having said that, this is not only an unusually astute film, but also a very important one, socially and philosophically speaking, that the remaining 10% of you must seek out, no matter how hard it is going to be to find.

One more thing before I dig in.

Antichrist has been promoted as a horror film. Oh my God, it is so not.

It is horrifying, revolting even. It says something about a film that it made me look away a couple of times.

But it is not your standard horror fare as there is not a single thrill to be had.

There is also no paranormal element. The title, Antichrist, is metaphorical.

So here we go.

It would be very hard, if not impossible, to argue that Lars von Trier’s Breaking the Waves was not easily one of the best films to come out of the independent revolution of the 1990’s.

It is equally impossible to talk about feminism in film without talking at length about von Trier's body of work.

He may be one of the most misunderstood filmmakers not only of our, but of any time.

I have heard von Trier called a misogynist, which is a laughable accusation.

I don't remember which critic it was, but someone actually called Breaking a "celebration of women's suffering."

Clearly, the suffering of women is the theme that ties his films together, but this misery seems to make him by turns weary, morose and livid.

I truly wonder if something horrible happened to a woman that he loved at some point early in his life for this to be so rooted in his cognition.

Breaking was a grizzly epic, a thesis on both the suffering and the heroism of women.

It was one of those rare film, I think there have only been six or seven of them, when I sat through the credits and several minutes of employees cleaning up popcorn after the showing because I was just too emotionally exhausted to move.

My heart still breaks every time I think of Bess’ willingness to forfeit her very soul trying to save someone she loves, losing her life in the process.

Seriously, try to wrap your mind around the gravity of Bess' actions.

She believes with all of her being that her actions will condemn her to an eternity in the fires of hell.

This belief is very real to her and this danger of burning forever is as real to her as any worldly, physical danger is to anyone.

And she makes the sacrifice anyway to redeem this man she so desperately loves.

Bess is one of the most beautiful and selfless characters, not only in film, but in art.

Von Trier followed Breaking the Waves with Dancer in the Dark, another tribute to women’s proclivity to self-sacrifice.

Selma's child will not go blind even though it will cost Selma her life.

Again, a woman, suffering and selfless.

That was followed by Dogville, where the other side of the coin of the misery of women was wrath rather than nobility.

Von Trier's anger, like Grace's was more than understandable and even righteous up to a point.

These are three masterpieces that will stay with you forever once you’ve seen them and von Trier’s latest film, Antichrist is no exception.

To say that the opening sequence of Antichrist plays out like one of Lynch’s Obsession commercials would be accurate but flippant, thick and unfair.

We are treated, right out of the gate, to a black and white montage of Willem Dafoe making sweet slo-mo love to his special lady inter-cut with images of a toddler wandering around the apartment with an aria from Rinaldo by Handel playing in the background.

Von Trier isn't exactly going for subtle here. Character with a God complex accompanied by music by Handel, the guy who composed The Messiah.

The first thing that struck me was just how damn un-Dogma this movie was.

Then, we are jerked from this surreal opening straight into a beautifully shot, devastating tragedy.

The rest of the film continues to break pretty much every rule that von Trier set up for the Dogma movement, but you can still see that harsh realism under the surface, trying to claw its way out of every dream sequence, every camera trick, every metaphor, every art-house cliché.

This is probably the first time I have ever used the word cliché without meaning it as a rebuke.

Von Trier swings them like a hammer with deliberate purpose, contrasting them with the realism of the harsh, raw open-nerved emotions his characters are dealing with.

The dream sequences and artsy flashbacks cut into the horrific realism the way the musical numbers broke up the tragic evens of Dancer.

Willem Dafoe is a therapist whose wife is understandably falling apart after the death of their child.

Dafoe quickly finds fault with the care she is receiving from a colleague and breaks one of the rules he lives by as a therapist: don’t treat family.

Of course, it isn’t long before he finds himself breaking another rule: don’t have sex with your patient.

But give the guy a break.

He’s married to the woman.

Still. Turns out, fucking your patient is a bad idea, even if you’re married to her.

It is established almost immediately that this film is about payback.

The puzzle lies in figuring out which character has it coming.

You have the therapist, Willem Dafoe’s best performance since The Last Temptation of Christ, whose narcissism is so bountiful, whose God-complex is so vast that von Trier names the film after the character who defies him: Antichrist.

And just as we have tentatively decided who to indict, we realize, to our shame that nobody has it coming. We have spent a hundred minutes thinking about blame, as have the characters in this harsh and disturbing film.

But despite the events in the opening sequence, bad things do not happen because we are sexual creatures.

And suppressing our sexuality to the point of mutilation, sometimes figurative, sometimes tragically literal is never the answer.

Von Trier’s point here is this: Nature is not Satan’s church.

It sounds like a ridiculous notion, but it’s ingrained in our collective psyche nevertheless.

We think of human sexuality, the most natural thing in the world, as a breeding ground for all that is wicked.

We do in fact believe that nature is Satan’s church.

But we do not have it coming. We do not deserve it. We have to stop punishing ourselves.

It’s more than sad, it is appalling how people see God, but this is an accurate portrait of how western Christianity has set him up.

Like von Trier presents Willem Dafoe's therapist, Christians have painted God as a malicious being who talks about love, but whose sole purpose is actually to dole out unflinching, unforgiving and unjust punishment.

Too many see him as evangelical America has presented him: as a brute to be followed by the anonymous and faceless masses.

That is how so many see God because that is what too many of our religious leaders have been insisting for centuries that he is.