Mohanthropy

Film Review: God Bless America

Since the directorial oeuvre of Robert “Bobcat” Goldthwait has thus far consisted of films including alcoholic children’s entertainers, trans-species sexual hijinks, and teenaged auto-asphyxiation gone bad, it shouldn’t be surprising that his newest is another boundary-pusher. What might seem unexpected is that the mind behind “Shakes the Clown,” “Sleeping Dogs Lie,” and “World’s Greatest Dad” has crafted a moralistic diatribe against the coarsening of American culture. Of course, that’s not entirely a fair critique—at their best, Bocat’s other movies have attacked hypocrisy with acerbic jabs of uncompromising vulgarity while retaining (barely) a core humanity. Still, it’s a paradox “God Bless America” never quite treats in a satisfactory way.

 

It also doesn’t help that the target of Goldthwait’s satire is about as broad as can be. Basically, he (or, rather, his protagonist-correlative Frank) has had it up to here with the relentless degradation of American manners and intellect, as brought about by the avalanche of putridity which is our pop culture today. After fantasizing about murdering his insensitive, moronic co-workers and neighbors, cubicle drone Frank gets out his old Army sidearm and sets his sights on the spoiled teenage star of a “Sweet Sixteen”-style reality show. He eventually teams up with one of her schoolmates, the morbidly inclined Roxy, for a cross-country, kill-crazy rampage targeting anyone rude and/or stupid enough to deserve it. And that’s pretty much it. “GBA” is basically a tongue-in-cheek (but not very far) wish-fulfillment fantasy for anyone who has ever stared in disbelief at the idiocy on their TV screens or in their offices and stores. Thinly veiled references are made to “American Idol,” Fox News, and explicit ones to Michael Jackson, Lindsay Lohan, and Tea Party protestors.

But there’s no real critique going on here, Bobcat/Frank is essentially screaming about how terrible all this stuff is. While there’s certainly some satisfaction in that, and in some of the early mayhem committed here, it’s a pretty thin skeleton for an entire movie. Criticizing a Goldthwait film for lacking subtlety may be a fool’s errand, but it’s appropriate. What made “World’s Greatest Dad” such a darkly fascinating comedy was its ability to get under the skin of its characters, to make the reprehensible actions of Robin Williams’ character seem, if not excusable, at least understandable. Joel Murray plays Frank with a spot-on Robert Forster voice (and you could easily imagine Forster in the role), but too many of his monologues are screenwriter speeches, and he never seems to cotton to the obvious fact that his lethal intolerance of those he deems unworthy is little more than a funhouse mirror of the attitudes he’s set himself against. Tara Lynn Barr is the potential breakout star, imbuing Roxy with a wryness that’s Wednesday Addams-meets-Zooey Deschanel, but she’s not given much to do other than try (unsuccessfully) to entice Frank, and come to his rescue , guns blazing. Any shock value at seeing a teenaged girl stone-facedly gun folks down has been exhausted by the antics of Chloe Moretz.

I don’t think Bobcat should have chickened out on his thesis and made the whole thing a dream (which I suspected at one point would happen), but to depict so uncritically this serial killer behavior is a little bit icky. I guess I’m not entirely convinced that Bobcat doesn’t think something like this massacre would be a good idea. And even though there are moments I’m tempted, in the abstract, to agree, it’s obviously not. In other words, it’s both less creepy and less funny than Crispin Glover’s essay a few years back about whether or not it would be morally justifiable to kill Steven Spielberg. (5/10)

Movie I Will Never See #1

http://www.forchristssakemovie.com/

Trailers of the day

Doing some DVD ordering this morning, and thought I'd share some of the more interesting trailers I've come across:

Remember 'Nightwatch'?  Both the 1997 English-language remake and the Danish original were pretty creepy; not coincidentally, they were both directed by the same guy, Ole Bornedal.  He's got a new film, 'Deliver Us from Evil,' and it looks sufficiently dark:

 

I'm also a big fan of low-budget medeival fantasy, so this trailer for 'The Wild Hunt' piqued my interest.  Be sure to watch the whole thing (it's like 4+ minutes) here.  Then come back.

 

OK, see what I did there with not giving away the twist?  We are entering a golden age of cinema incorporating RPG/D&D/LARP themes, and I couldn't be happier.

 

On the less positive side, there's the latest iteration in the 'Tetsuo' series.  Shinya Tsukamoto really has made an entire career out of following up the original, brilliant, 'Tetsuo: Iron Man,' but this trailer for 'Tetsuo: Bullet Man' promises another unoriginal, headache-inducing effort:

 

Another icon of the 90s appears to get trashed in "White Lighnin'," a biopic based on the life and family of Jesco White, the Dancing Outlaw.  Jesco's story has already been well-told in the original 'Dancing Outlaw' and its sequel, and his family's in last year's documentary "The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia," so I'm not sure what this is supposed to add.  Verges on exploitation.

 

 And then there's 'Shaolin,' which unites Hong Kong superstars of the past (Jackie Chan) and present (Andy Lau) in a story which, though it looks overly familiar, also contains many opportunities for fight choreography:

 

 

Film Review: 20th Century Boys

  I got a new shipment from Red Sun, my favorite Asian DVD importers, the other day, containing three films:  “20^th Century Boys,” “Shaolin Girl” (complete with CD soundtrack!), and “Ichi,” a female take on the Zatoichi saga.  Finally got around to watching the first of them, the domestic box-office smash “20^th Century Boys,” and it’s an enjoyably silly, increasingly preposterous cross between “Stand by Me,” the first season of “Heroes,” and the Book of Revelations.

  After a puzzling framing scene set in 2015, the movie bounces back and forth between 1969, when a group of adolescent friends formed a secret club and wrote a Book of Prophecies, and 1997, when those apocalyptic prophecies seem, bizarrely, to be coming true, potentially culminating with the end of the world on December 31, 2000.

  The opening, future-set scene introduces Prisoner 1498, a onetime comic artist now imprisoned in a hellish dungeon, apparently for something he published on the Web.  It’s the unseen, clawed monster in the neighboring cell, though, who narrates the story of the film, which begins as a teenaged Kenji Endo blasts T. Rex and proclaims the power of rock’n’roll to change lives.

  That, of course, was in 1969; the adult Kenji has abandoned his guitar-hero dreams and works in a KingMart convenience store alongside his mother, while caring for the baby girl his sister abandoned into his care.  After the police come by to inquire about a frequent customer, a professor named Shikishima who has gone missing, Kenji visits his home to collect an outstanding delivery bill.  On an outside wall he glimpses a symbol composed of a hand with its index finger extended, over an eye.    Kenji’s mother has been reading in the newspaper of a viral epidemic in Africa which drains its victims’ blood, so when he learns that a student of Shikishima’s has been found dead and bloodless, things start to look suspicious.

  When Kenji attends his high school reunion, he reconnects with most of his old gang, and they wax nostalgic about the hours spent in their secret hideout, living in fear of local bullies The Terrible Twins.  It got so bad that the boys hired the toughest kid they knew, a tomboy named Yukiji, as their bodyguard.  The reunion is dominated by talk of an enigmatic cult, led by someone known only as Friend, who pushes a prophecy identical to that invented by Kenji and company thirty years earlier, and incorporates the same hand-eye symbol the kids invented.

  Convinced that Friend must be someone from their childhood circle, the reconnected friends are further unnerved by vague hints that Kenji’s infant niece, Kanna, is somehow important, and by the unexpected death-by-falling of Donkey, a member of the circle who wasn’t at the reunion.  They also recall, through flashback, a creepy masked kid named Sadakiyo who always used to spy on their group.  It all ties into the moon landing from that summer of ’69 as well; when Friend finally appears and speaks, his first words to an adoring crowd are “I am Collins,” a reference to Michael Collins, the Apollo 11 astronaut who didn’t get to set foot on the lunar surface.

  Yukiji, it turns out, is an all-grown-up woman now, working customs enforcement at Narita Airport.  When she sees the gang’s logo in cult-related news, she seeks out Kenji and reminds him that it was their friend Otcho who designed it.  Otcho, unfortunately, vanished in Thailand years ago.  As Kenji learns more about the cult of Friend, it becomes clear that everything he wrote in his childhood Book of Prophecies is coming true (including the laser gun he designed back then!).  London is struck by the blood-draining plague, then Osaka.  When a massive terrorist attack strikes a Tokyo airport, things seem clearly to be getting out of control.

  After the cult tries to kidnap the baby Kanna, and burns down the KingMart in the process, Kenji has had enough.  He uses the laser gun to hijack the stage at a Friend concert from the terrible glam band opening act, standing up for himself and reclaiming his rock’n’roll mojo in one fell swoop.  He discovers the all-important juvenilia under the charred remains of the convenience store.  From there the final act of “20^th Century Boys” ramps up the intensity, revealing the unlikely fate of Otcho, the emergence of Friend’s cult as a national political force, a life-size bunny costume, and, in the last half-hour or so, some truly apocalyptic shit.

  It’s an absurdly over-plotted story (which betrays its manga origins) that, like so many Hollywood action films, feels as if it could have been written by children.  In a meta-sense, of course, it was, and if there’s any deeper meaning to the film, it lies there.  Otherwise, its main virtue is how earnestly its many characters take the absurd situations in which they find themselves.  After all, this conspiracy makes “The Da Vinci Code” look eminently plausible.  But if anything seems confusing after the end credits, it’ll surely be cleared up in one of the two remaining films in the planned trilogy, which I must say I’ll anticipate, just to see how they deal with the rather drastic end of this one.

  2008 release, 142 minutes, in Japanese with English subtitles

  Grade: B

Film Review: Two Lovers

  James Gray’s “Two Lovers” has gained notoriety as the purportedly last film to star Joaquin Phoenix, who as we all know is absolutely for sure giving up his acting career in order to concentrate on facial hair, hip-hop stardom, and bizarre talk show appearances.  Really.  He’s serious.  Anyhow, even if the unthinkable happens and Joaquin signs up for “Gladiator 2: Christians’ Revenge,” it’s still a good thing that this modest romantic drama has garnered the extra attention.  “Two Lovers” is the sort of film that could easily slip through the cracks, as have some of Gray’s previous movies (“Little Odessa,” “The Yards”).

  As the title implies, this is your typical love triangle scenario.  Leonard (Phoenix) is living with his Jewish parents in Brooklyn following a hospitalization brought on by the breakup with his fiancé.  Almost simultaneously, he meets two women.  There’s Sandra (Vinessa Shaw), the daughter of Leonard’s father’s business partner, and the safe, familiar choice.  And then there’s Michelle (Gwyneth Paltrow), who’s everything Sandra’s not—blonde, a shiksa, and just a little bit crazy.

  Leonard is torn between them, and yes, he does end up feelin’ like a fool.  Michelle has another lover of her own, an older, rich lawyer (Elias Koteas) who refuses to leave his wife and family.  She’s also, as mentioned, somewhat unhinged, which endears her to the equally damaged Leonard.  But while he’s awkwardly introspective and occasionally suicidal, she’s volatile, narcissistic, and demanding.  She also thinks of him as more of a brother, and even says so, apparently unaware that that’s the worst possible thing a woman can say to a man who has just professed his love.  A match made in heaven, no?

  Phoenix, despite his off-screen Andy Kaufman-esque antics, is a heck of an actor when he wants to be, and he gives a perfectly pitched performance here as someone on the verge of mental illness but still functional on a day-to-day basis.  He avoids the all-too-common pitfall of letting the illness define and dominate the character.  There’s a scene where Leonard is waiting in a fancy restaurant for Michelle, trying to drink his Brandy Alexander through the stir stick, that’s a masterpiece of fish-out-of-water anxiety—familiar, funny, and sad.  He also, during a rare light-hearted scene out on the town, shows off the rapping chops and breakdance moves which have become a siren song to the actor.

  Paltrow, on the other hand, has a tendency when playing ‘ordinary folks,’ to condescend in her performance, and that shows a bit here.  Michelle lives in the same building as Leonard, with her unseen but apparently disturbed father.  It’s odd that the film never returns to this father after his first mention, except to provide a rationale for Michelle and Leonard to meet clandestinely on the building’s roof for, among, other things, a quickie against a rough brick wall.  (“That was beautiful” Michelle says afterward, more proof that she’s a bit off.)

  For this intimate drama set largely in cramped indoor spaces, Gray uses a widescreen ratio, cutting the horizontal frame up with vertical lines from doorways, walls, and rooftop chimneys.  It’s a classic but effective way of demonstrating the potential freedom available to the characters, as well as their (often self-imposed) confinement.

  A couple more random notes:  The DVD has a trailer for “Surveillance,” the long-awaited new film from Jennifer Lynch, who last graced the big screen with “Boxing Helena” in 1993, a film I’m perversely proud of having seen during its first screening on opening day (I was bored and I didn’t know Art Garfunkel was in it…).  Now 16 years later, this “Rashomon”-style thriller looks creepy and intriguing, despite a middling cast (Bill Pullman, Julia Ormond).  Also, I used the Shazam app on my iPhone for the first time while watching “Two Lovers.”  It successfully identified the tune playing in the nightclub scene as Moby’s “I Love to Move in Here.”  And finally, I forgot to mention above that Isabella Rossellini plays Leonard’s mom, and one should never neglect to mention anything that she does.

  2008 release; 110 minutes; viewed on DVD

  Grade: B+

Film Review: Little Red Riding Hood and Other Stories

  Subverting the Brothers Grimm or the “Tales of Hoffman” is nothing new; Bruno Bettelheim tore the cover off the Freudian underpinnings of classic fairy tales in 1976, and films such as “Enchanted” and “Shrek” make gentle sport of their clichés.  Still, the films of David Kaplan feel unique in their arty, sexualized takes; a new DVD, “Little Red Riding Hood and Other Stories,” collects three, each around ten minutes long.

  The title entry is the most recent (1997) and the best known, thanks to its star, a 17-year-old Christina Ricci.  This movie comes just before “That Darn Cat, Ricci’s last kiddie film, in her filmography, so it’s the perfect time for her to embody the innocent but knowing lass on her way to Grandma’s house through a black-and-white, expressionistic landscape.  The wolf is a lithe, leotard-clad modern dancer, and a bit nastier than the one we’re used to: “a slut is she who eats the flesh of her granny,” informs Quentin Crisp’s arch narration (the film is dialogue-free).  There’s talk of “pee-pee” and “ca-ca” as well; yes, it’s that strange.

  The other two films are nearly as skewed.  After seeing 1992’s “Riding Hood,” it’s easy to anticipate where “Little Suck-a-Thumb” might be headed.  In it, a mother warns her young son (played by the adult little person and Oregon native Cork Hubbert) that sucking his thumb as he falls asleep will summon a thumb-chopping monster.  It does, and it taunts the child: “Let me see your thumbs—why, they’re all wet!  Do they really taste so good?  Let me try one…”  It should be clear there’s plenty of quotable dialogue in these films.  “The Frog Prince” (1994) features a petulant young girl whose parents insist she honor her promise to share a bed with an amphibian.  It has a happy ending.

  1992-1997 release, 30 minutes total, viewed on DVD

  Grade:  B+

Film Review: Lookin' to Get Out

  The ultimate poster boy for the rise and fall of 1970s auteurism in Hollywood, Hal Ashby made a passel of unique and unforgettable films (“Harold and Maude,” “Bound for Glory,” “Being There,” etc.) before losing his touch and, ultimately, his life as the artist-friendly culture succumbed to its own self-indulgence and the corporate mentality of the 1980s prevailed.  The turning point for Ashby was the Jon Voight comedy “Lookin’ to Get Out,” which was filmed in 1980, but remained unreleased for two years before becoming a notorious financial and critical flop.  Ashby never made another worthwhile film.

  The director’s defenders have always protested that “Lookin’ to Get Out” was edited without Ashby’s approval, and that the version released wasn’t what he had in mind.  Shortly before his death in 1988, Ashby secretly re-edited the film, and when these reels of film were recently discovered, Voight (who also co-wrote the screenplay) spearheaded its release onto DVD, the first time the movie’s ever been on any home video format.

  Unfortunately, it’s still not very good.  Voight plays Alex Kovac, a gregarious, garish gambler who wins $15,000 at the races, only to find himself $10,000 in debt to some nasty thugs by the very next day.  With his best pal and partner in crime Jerry (Burt Young), Alex absconds from New York City to Las Vegas ahead of his creditors and the pair con themselves into a luxury suite at a casino.  There they run into Patti (Ann-Margaret), Alex’s former flame, who’s now involved with Bernie Gold(Richard Bradford), the casino’s manager.  Dodging the East Coast thugs, Alex recruits a legendary card sharp now working as a room service waiter into a scheme to win back the cash he need to pay off his debts and then some.

  It’s a standard tale of schmucks run amok, with the primary drawback that the lovable losers at its center just aren’t that lovable.  Instead of seeming like a rascally, devil-may-care roué, Alex comes off as a bratty, selfish dolt who can’t plan any farther ahead than the end of his nose; he’s the sort of guy who imagines himself getting by on pure charisma, when in fact he somehow manages to survive despite his lack of it.  The long-suffering Jerry is somewhat more sympathetic, but that’s probably just because Young is so good at playing the eternally patient sycophant type.

  Even as a period piece, the film lacks value.  The 1980 fashions, hairstyles, and décor are universally terrible.  As a tour of the glories of late Carter-era Vegas, it serves up scene after scene of topless dance reviews which make “Showgirls” look like “Swan Lake.”  One minor saving grace is a brief glimpse of a vintage Siegfried and Roy routine, but that’s small consolation in the midst of this reminder of a once-great talent tarnished.

  1982 release, 105 minutes, rated R, viewed on DVD.

  Grade:  C

Film Review: Los Bastardos

  At first, “Los Bastardos” looks to be a day-in-the-life look at a pair of illegal Mexican immigrants, two souls randomly plucked from the ranks of the day laborers gathered in the parking lot of a California Home Depot.  One is a teenager, the other his older brother, it seems, and it’s not until well past the halfway mark of the film that we learn their names:  Fausto (Rubén Sosa) and Jesús (Jesus Moises Rodriguez), respectively.  We first see them in the movie’s long, static, opening shot, walking towards the camera along a concrete riverbed.  This almost hypnotic introduction is dramatically punctuated by assaultive opening credits, all gnashing soundtrack and blood-red background.  It’s a microcosm of the film to come.

  This is writer-director Amat Escalante’s second feature, and like his first, 2005’s “Sangre,” it counts Mexican auteur Carlos Reygadas (“Silent Night,” “Japon”) among its producers.  Escalante’s visual and dramatic pacing echoes Reygadas’ as well, employing carefully composed, mostly static long shots which can try a viewer’s patience, but also allow the characters to be observed almost clandestinely, catching small moments that might ordinarily be edited around.

  It emerges that Jesus and Fausto have been given money and a shotgun by some unseen gringo, and after a day’s work helping to lay out a foundation, they rest up for the task ahead.  Then the film shifts gears, and we meet Karen (Nina Zavarin), a suburban mom who, once her teenage son is out for the night, breaks into her crack stash.  In a superbly creepy and tense scene, Jesus and Fausto invade her home while she sleeps on the couch in front of the TV.

  Without giving away too much of what follows, let’s just say that it becomes clear that these two aren’t simply victims of poverty and circumstance forced into criminal acts; they’re actually pretty nasty, sadistic guys, at least Jesus.  Uncomfortable confrontations ensue, leading to a couple of the more shocking, sudden, moments of violence in recent memory.  At the same time, as the plot twists, it becomes less believable, perhaps because we’re never really given any sense of who any of these characters are or why, exactly, they’re doing what they’re doing.  The vagueness of the backstory (the Mexicans have a female relative back home who’s going blind, while Karen has an ex-husband or –boyfriend who bears her a grudge) has a purpose, but sometimes feels like willful obscurity.

  “Los Bastardos” is still a mightily effective film, and the second I’ve seen this year (after “Sin Nombre”) to deal with illegal immigration in a way that’s grounded in reality but refuses to use technical raggedness as a badge of authenticity. Cinematographer Matthew Uhry uses the widescreen frame to emphasize not only the open landscapes, but the distances between the people who inhabit them.

  2008 release, 90 minutes, not rated, in English and Spanish w/English subtitles, viewed on DVD.

  Grade: B+

Video Verite's New Releases for May 19, 2009

RECOMMENDED:

Bunny Chow:  Three friends, aspiring stand-up comedians, leave girlfriends behind on a weekend road trip to a rock festival where they’re to perform.  Sex, drugs, and shenanigans ensue.  The plot could be from any lame-brained Hollywood comedy, but this black-and-white South African feature brims with humanity and humor, and offers a mostly angst-free look at a generation which has grown up in a post-apartheid society.  Part of the Global Film Initiative series.

The Friends of Eddie Coyle:  Robert Mitchum gives one of his best later performances in this gritty 1973 crime drama from director Peter Yates (“Bullitt”).  Facing a prison stretch that would leave his wife alone and impoverished, veteran hood Eddie Coyle is tempted to turn snitch in order to live out his final years in peace.  Low-key, cynical, and grimy in the best early 70s fashion, with a score seemingly straight out of a “Kojak” episode, it features fine work from not only Mitchum but also Peter Boyle, playing a particularly amoral bartender.

Detective Bureau 2-3: Go to Hell, Bastards!:  Japanese auteur Seijun Suzuki and his frequent star Joe Shishido team up for this 1963 candy-colored crime drama about an intrepid private dick who goes undercover to break up a fencing ring.  Not as crazy as later Suzuki masterpieces like “Branded to Kill,” but still has its share of weirdness and style, including a couple of odd musical numbers.

Kept and Dreamless:  This Argentine drama set during the economic crisis of the 1990s centers on a nine-year-old girl who copes with her eccentric and ultimately dysfunctional environment, including her coke-addled, irresponsible mom.  Incorporating bittersweet humor against its grim backdrop, it’s a compelling study of a child forced into maturity by circumstance, and thriving.  Part of the Global Film Initiative Series.

Man Hunt:  In this restored, rarely seen 1941 Fritz Lang thriller, a British hunter (Walter Pidgeon) in Bavaria just before the outbreak of World War II finds none other than Adolf Hitler in his sights.  He ends up on the run from Nazis on a steamer back to London and then around the city.  Tightly made wartime thriller notable for being Lang’s first opportunity to depict the country he fled for America.  Great cast includes Roddy McDowall (in his first significant film role), John Carradine, George Sanders, and Joan Bennett.

Pigs, Pimps, and Prostitutes: 3 by Shohei Imamura:  A trio of fascinating, hard-hitting near-masterpieces from one of postwar Japan’s bravest filmmakers: “Pigs & Battleships” (1961), “Insect Woman” (1963), and “Intentions of Murder” (1964).  Each, rentable separately, chronicles with an unflinching, stylish eye, the desperation and perseverance of Japanese life during and in the wake of the American occupation.

Wholphin #8:  More weird and wonderful short films from the McSweeney’s cabal, including a 40-minute piece in which James Franco utterly destroys a bedroom, as well as a horrifying short documentary on rich teenagers.

ALSO OF NOTE:

13 Most Beautiful…Songs for Andy Warhol Screen Tests:  A baker’s dozen of Warhol’s famous ‘screen tests,’ featuring Lou Reed, Edie Sedgwick and others, with newly composed soundtracks.

3 Seconds Before Explosion:  Classic Japanese weirdness and style, in the form of a 1967 thriller from Nikkatsu studios about a special agent who goes undercover to stop a heist of precious gems.

Chandni Chowk to China:  When a humble street vendor in Delhi, India, is identified as the reincarnation of a Chinese hero, it leads to a crazy mix of Bollywood musical and Asian martial arts epic.

Crips and Bloods: Made in America:  From the director of “Dogtown & Z-Boys” and “Riding Giants” comes a hard-hitting look at the surprisingly epic history of America’s two most notorious street gangs.

The Dana Carvey Show:  Finally on DVD, this short-lived 1996 sketch comedy series boasted now-famous writers/cast members such as Stephen Colbert, Charlie Kaufman, Steve Carell, Robert Smigel, and Louis C.K.

Debauched Desires:  Four Erotic Masterpieces by Masaru Konuma:  More disturbing, campy, and bizarre Japanese soft-core “pink films” from the 1970s than you can shake a stick at.

Doc:  Stacy Keach plays Doc Holliday in this revisionist 1971 take on the Wyatt Earp story from director Frank Perry (“Mommie Dearest”).

Eden Log:  No, it’s not about the first bowel movement.  The latest from Magnolia Films’ Six Shooter Film Series (“Let the Right One In”) is a grimy French sci-fi tale about a mysterious, muck-covered guy.

Happily Ever After:  This darkly humorous Japanese drama explores the unhappy life of a thirty-something waitress trapped in a dysfunctional relationship with a volatile lout.

Mississippi Chicken:  The rights of workers and of minorities are examined in this documentary about poultry plants in the deep South, largely manned by Latin American immigrants.

Munyurangabo:  Two boys, one Hutu and one Tutsi, embark on a journey into their pasts in this drama from Rwanda set in the aftermath of that country’s horrific genocide.

Paul Blart: Mall Cop:  People like it when fat guys fall down, and my kid’s gotta eat, so please rent this Segway-powered piece of classic slapstick comedy.

Seth McFarlane’s Cavalcade of Comedy:  An anthology of too-hot-for-TV animation from the creator of “Family Guy” and “American Dad.”

Time Limit:  Karl Malden’s only directing credit came from this 1959 military court-martial drama starring Richard Widmark as the prosecutor and Richard Basehart as the Korean War soldier charged with treason.

True Blood: Season 1:  Sookie Stackhouse meets a bunch of vampires in this HBO series adapted from the Charlaine Harris novels; Anna Paquin stars as the telepathic diner waitress.

Valkyrie:  Tom Cruise is going to kill Hitler!  Now you feel bad about all those Scientology jokes, don’t you, you little Hitler-lover!

We Feed the World:  The globalized food industry gets the twice-over in this documentary which probably won’t end by declaring that America is a universal force for good in the world.

Young Billy Young:  Robert Mitchum plays a peace-loving man who takes a job as an Old West town marshal in order to settle an old score in this 1969 western co-starring Angie Dickinson.

 

Anticipating 'Antichrist'

When Roger Ebert says something is "the most despairing film I've ever seen," that's not just whistling Dixie.  That's his verdict of "Antichrist," the new Lars von Trier film, which just premiered at Cannes.  I love Lars.  I love his willingness to, as Ebert puts it, launch "an audacious spit in the eye of society."  I love LVT's willingness to be a pure provocateur, to absorb the accusations of immaturity, sadism, nihilism, brattiness, and what have you thrown his way.  I love his refusal to provide explanations, morals, or even sometimes narrative coherence.  I can't wait to see this film.

Here's Ebert's full report on Antichrist.  Slashfilm has a roundup of other reactions, which do run the proverbial gamut.  And I almost forgot--I also love Lars for his lack of modesty, as demonstrated by his comment at the Antichrist press conference:  "I am the best film director in the world."  

And here's the trailer:

Lars von Trier's Antichrist - Official Trailer from Zentropa on Vimeo.