Edmond (2005)

Edmond (Stuart Gordon, 2005)

Rating: B



Stuart "Re-Animator" Gordon directs this film adaptation of David Mamet's 1982 stage play about Edmond Burke (William H. Macy), who is essentially the ultimate of the modern repressed white American male. Edmond's life goes from mundane to a psychotic rage fest in the course of one night in the Big Apple, and it's a wildly fun, bizarre ride. After a strange encounter with a fortune teller, Edmond leaves his wife. Then after a strange encounter with a business man (Mamet heavyweight and resident Chicagoan Joe Mantegna) who tells him that "the niggers have it easy" and to "go find some fun" -- he embarks in a night on the town. He looks around to get laid: but instead finds a lot of expensive hookers and strippers, con men and con games, pimps with knives who are trying to stab him, a sweet WWI soldiers knife at a pawn shop, and so on. Mamet's script has his name written all over it, and is hysterical in that hyper-masculine stylized dialogue way, and is considerably darker than much of his other work. Edmond's descent, which leads him into a particularly bad place, is as much about the scum-infested streets of New York in Taxi Driver as it is about the scum-infested soul of the white American male. A foolish viewer might see Edmond as a victim, but his racist, violent, and psychotic inside makes him both the hero (in the traditional protagonist sense) and villain of the story. In a series of trials, Edmond unleashes the inner-hate of man that is so repressed and played down in modern American society that here we see what happens when it is unleashed (bad things!). This film is as black as Special Agent Dale Cooper's coffee, and it's quite the enjoyable journey watching a man trying to solve the meaningless of his (and our) existence.

Stuart Gordon, the once promising filmmaker and director of the cult-classic Re-Animator has apparently freed himself from the sticky web that is bad H.P. Lovecraft adaptations to put a chilling, creepy touch on the film -- though is inconsistent: he meanders in and out of an odd, surreal style mixed with some by-the-books filmmaking. It feels quite staged for a lot of it, but hell, it was a stage play...and I never complained during Oleanna, American Buffalo, or Glengarry Glen Ross, so I won't now. Gordon is also an old Chicago friend of Mamet, which is bonus points for the both of them (Chicago rulez). A strange coincidence: the film features both a pawn-shop, similar to the one in the previously staged American Buffalo, and an on-street con game, reminiscent of the later film House of Games.

With Julia Stiles as the waitress, Denise Richards as a stripper, Jeffrey Combs in a cameo as a hotel clerk, Mena Suvari as a whore, George Wendt as the pawn-shop owner, and Rebecca Pidgeon still as David Mamet's wife and a bad actress. Rated R. 82 minutes.

Unknown (2006)

Unknown (Simon Brand, 2006)

Rating: D



Unknown is based on an interesting concept: how a group of people locked in a wharehouse, who have no recollection of who they are or how they got there, react when put in an extreme situation of life and death. They all wake up, and soon enough find out that they were involved in a violent kidnapping plot, and the fun is that none of them know which side they are on -- they simply know that by sundown big, bad, accent toting Peter Stormare and Mark Boone Junoir (in his usual greaseball bad guy role) are going to show up in a Denali and clean up whatever mess is on their hands.

The problem here (among many) is with the script by Matthew Waynee, which favors stock dialogue of characters explaining their situation and feelings outloud, cheap flashbacks triggered by people looking in mirrors, and a handful of loophole filled sucker-punch twists. Waynee's script manages to avoid the interesting issues by suffocating the character's individuality through their 'lack of remembering' -- it's more interested in brutish and irrational exchanges than character development, logic, and building suspense. The kicker is that the film spells everything out for the audience, with-holding certain information only for the sake of twist, and in turn breaking all sorts of obvious David Mamet and Alfred Hitchcock rules of filmmaking and suspense: the script treats the audience like a bunch of idiots. And without respect for the audience, it's impossible to engage them.

The film was made by Simon Brand, former pop-music video and commercial director, which is indicative of his style, which is non-existent. Even worse, the film tries to cover up its cookie-cutter style with a barrage of hokey editing tricks ('oh my, jump cuts!') and visual effects ('oh my, blurry flashbacks!'). Much of the film plays out like bad television melodrama: it is awkwardly paced and foolishly heavy handed, has a generically crappy score, and a whole ton of wooden acting from some otherwise notable actors. More and more directors these days are coming from backgrounds similar to that of Brand, and more and more it is seeming like one big shitty idea. A guy might be able to direct a Nike commercial and an Enrique Iglesias video with relative success, but feature films are a much more sensitive and demanding medium -- and Brand's inexperience shows in his inability to overcome or alter a script that's comparable to a giant balloon of hot air.

The stellar cast gone wrong is: Barry Pepper, Greg Kinnear, Joe Pantaliano, James "Jesus Christ" Caviezel, and Jeremy Sisto. There are other actors, but those scenes (outside the wharehouse) especially suck. The notably bad score is by Angelo Milli. Color. 98 minutes. Not-rated.

Vertigo (1958)

Vertigo (Alfred Hitchcock, 1958)

Rating: B+



Hitchcock's calculated, smooth approach to every aspect of the film is astounding, and Stewart gives a memorable performance as Scottie, a recently retired police detective in San Francisco who develops a severe case of vertigo (re: 'afraid of heights'). In the final scene, Stewart's delivery has the ability to pierce a man's soul (much like his final speech in Rope) -- and Kim Novak's icy cold, detached performance fits the film perfectly. The film is about a man who falls in love with an illusion, and the powerful nature of deception and loss. The third act of the film really picks up and becomes ultra creepy as Stewart's obsession is heightened -- and it becomes more clear that Hitchcock isn't concerned with the seemingly superficial love of the two characters as much as Stewart's love of the image of a woman, her clothes, her hair, her jewelry. There's no doubt that Vertigo is a masterpiece, and one of Hitchcock's finest -- but like almost all of his films, it is gimmicky and favors fantasy over reality. I found it difficult to be sympathetic with Scottie, even though he is brutally duped in a con game -- but the motivations for his irrational love of Madeline (or, her image) in the first two acts is unclear and seems like he's kind of just crazy, which makes it hard to care. With a weird, hypnotic score by Bernard Herrmann, Barbera Bel Geddes as the too-mom like-to-be-sexual friend Midge, and Galvin Elster as the something-is-not-right-here old college buddy. Color. 128 minutes.

Medium Cool (1969)

Medium Cool (Haskell Wexler, 1969)

Rating: A



Semi-documentary written, directed, shot, and produced by the now-legendary cinematographer Haskell Wexler. The film takes place in Chicago, 1968, and centers on TV news cameraman John (Robert Forster), who at the beginning of the film approaches his work and lifestyle with a cold and disturbing detachment. The film follows him as he befriends a Vietnam war widow (Verna Bloom) and her son, is fired from his job after finding out the FBI and police have been viewing his footage, and culminates with the riots in the summer of 1968 at the Democratic National Convention. Wexler uses powerful imagery in the style of cinema verite -- and captures an uncomfortably realistic feel while breaking down all barriers between fiction and documentary. Medium Cool is as beautiful, stylish, and confrontational as any of the late 60s films of similar technique (i.e. Easy Rider, Midnight Cowboy) -- but Wexler's natural tendency to tell the story through simple images trumps any of the shallow fiction elements that hinder the other films of the time period. It's a barrage of the senses, effortlessly weaving overlapping sound and picture, full of political banter, media theory, social arguments -- and one that is easy to welcome with open arms. A must-see for most, and required viewing for any Chicagoan. The film features a great scene where you can hear an assistant off-camera say, "Haskell, it's real!" -- referring to the tear gas which has been shot at them by the CPD. Studs Terkel is given a credit as "our man in Chicago" which I found humorous. 110 minutes.

What is it? (2006)

What is it? (Crispin Hellion Glover, 2006)

Rating: D+



I had the pleasure/displeasure of seeing this film on Crispin Hellion Glover's current tour -- which includes Glover in the flesh as he presents a slideshow where he reads from his books, shows his directorial debut film "What is it?", and fields questions from the audience afterwards. The slideshow, which apparantly is deemed "The Big Slide Show", was funny and interesting at times, but dragged on too long as he rambled and re-used the same style and humor for every book. This is a perfect segue into the film, because it's the same way: once the shock and absurdity wears off you'll encounter an impenetrable, clunky mess.

What is it? is written, directed, produced, and starring Glover, and is an overtly surreal and uncomfortable film. The film's main storyline concerns a man who gets locked outside his apartment and wanders around a bunch, encountering different people and pouring salt all over snails -- the kick is that all of these actors are portrayed by people with down syndrome. On the other hand is the "underground" type world, an obvious portrayal to the inner-psyche of the character(s?) and features Glover himself as the ruler of this world, which is full of Nazi symbols, naked women moving watermelons, a Shirley Temple doll, a minstrel wearing black face, music by Charlie Manson, and is not limited to the naked man with cerebral palsey getting a handjob in a giant clam. The film goes in and out of both these worlds, juxtaposing the "innocence" of the characters with down syndrome to the world of hate, racism, and dictatorship led by Glover. I'd go into the 'meaning' of the film more, but I'd prefer people do it themselves or just dismiss it (like many have, I'm sure). What is it? is a jarring and often uncomfortable film (in a good way), but once the jig is up, the film drags, not to mention all the out of focus shit made my eyes hurt real bad. Glover likes to claim that the film was influenced by Bunuel, Herzog, Fassbinder, and Kubrick, but it's closer to a clumsy version of a David Lynch film -- the film is so inside itself and ridden with poor execution that it is a bore. With Fairuza Balk as the voice of a snail, and the Chicago audience as a bunch of idiots asking bad questions afterwards. Unrated. 72 minutes.

Borat (2006)

Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (Larry Charles, 2006)

Rating: A-



British actor/comedian extraordinaire Sacha Baron Cohen wrote, produced, and stars in this extension of his character on Da Ali G Show. For those who don't know, Borat Sagdiyev is a television reporter from Kazakhstan who is sent to America to interview people and gain information on how to improve his home country. The film is more or less a mockumentary, with a mixture of unscripted interviews and interactions as well as some scripted scenes this time around. Directed by former Seinfeld writer and Entourage/Curb Your Enthusiasm director Larry Charles, the film follows Borat as he travels/interviews his way across the country in search of Pamela Anderson (after having seen a re-run of "Baywatch" on television). The film is as much a comedy as it is a satire and exploration of what is wrong with America -- racism, sexism, homophobia are just the beginning of what's exposed in his travels and encounters drunk frat bros, hate-filled rodeo riders, delusional southern church-goers, and so on.

Cohen's natural skill of improvisational comedy shines in his ability to masterfully guide conversation and mold scenes into both complete hilarity and utter repulsion. Those familiar with the character won't be surprised at the content, but that doesn't mean there aren't laughs -- for there are plenty. Some of the show gags are re-hashed, but there's enough original material here that entertains for both veterans and newcomers to Borat -- but that's also partially the problem, as it becomes hard to sustain the joke for a solid 84 minutes. Like any film that is an extension of an already established character, it's going to have to naturally cater to the audience who knows nothing, which leads to some particularly unfunny scripted moments and backstory type stuff that falls flat. That being said, the hype is pretty real on this one, and its mixture of both gross-out humor and social satire had me belly-laughing in a theatre for the first time in a few years. Cohen is a wonderful gift to contemporary comedy/satire, and we can hope this is just the beginning of his ventures to the silver screen. The film also features a disgusting scene involving naked fighting/wrestling that will be a topic of conversation for a long while. Co-written by Old School director/G.G. Allin documentarian Todd Phillips, "Da Ali G Show" writers Anthony Hines and Dan Mazer, and Peter Baynham. Rated R. Distributed by 20th Century Fox. 84 Minutes.

Stealing Beauty (1996)

Stealing Beauty (Bernardo Bertolucci, 1996)

Rating: C-



Stealing Beauty marked Bernardo Bertolucci's return to Italy after a lengthy self-imposed exile, with mixed (mostly bad) results. The film centers around 19-year old American girl Lucy Harmon (Liv Tyler), who, inspired by a poem written by her recently deceased mother, travels to the beautiful hills of Italy in search of her biological father and to perhaps lose her virginity. The film is essentially about how the people of the villa, who are all decadent narcissists of sorts, react to Lucy (i.e. "beauty") -- and they all do so by manipulating and using her in their own way. For most it's simply sexual, though resident artist/sculptor Ian (Donal McCann) uses her for his art, and the dying/gay writer Alex (Jeremy Irons) uses her as not only a muse, but a reason to hang on for a little while longer. Bertolucci spends most of the time focusing on Lucy's personal journey, which is painful due to Lucy's lack of actual characteristics -- she is a blank slate, naive, boring, and filled with a superficial sense of wonder. Plus, she writes really bad poetry. What's interesting about this film is the large supporting cast of characters who are essentially a miniature representation of Europe (all sorts of countries being represented here) -- how their dreams have died and how they react in the face of beauty, which they no longer have a feeling for. Unfortunately, the film is so focused on Lucy and ends so abruptly that we hardly get time to explore what's really interesting: the lives of the other inhabitants and Lucy's uncertain and potentially heart-breaking future. With an excellent supporting cast that includes Sinead Cusack, Rachel Weisz, Joseph Fiennes, D.W. Moffett, and Jean Marais. With beautifully lush cinematography by Darius Khondji, a poorly used pop-soundtrack featuring Liz Phair, Cocteau Twins, Lori Carlson, and more. Written by Susan Minot based on a story by Betrolucci. 118 minutes.

This Blog Is Not a Cold Dead Place

Though it might be for a while. Just as I felt I was gaining steam, I've become slammed with all sorts of other "obligations" that are going to be taking up almost all of my time for the next week or so. In the meantime let's hope the Chicago Bears sort out their problems and don't forget to take your daily vitamins.

And for your viewing enjoyment, a music video for (Lone) Wolf & Cub that I had the pleasure of being involved with.



Cheers.