Add This to Your Guilty Pleasure List

Drive                                                                                 
by Mark Dispenza

     Drive is the kind of film you get when you put an A-list cast and crew on a B-movie story.  Director Nicolas Winding Refn channels Sergio Leone by taking the "Man with No Name" (Clint Eastwood in Leone's films) and putting him in a noirish crime drama instead of a western. 
     In this case the Man is Ryan Gosling as the Driver.  He doesn't say much at all during the film, but when he does, people listen.  Gosling never disappoints, and he is brilliant here in his ability to convey the thoughts and emotions of his character by means of subtle facial expression instead of dialogue. 
     Refn, Danish by birth and New Yorker by upbringing, brings a European flare to the stylistic treatment of his subjects and scenes of explosive violence.  Like Leone, his attention to the subtle nuances of even the most minor of characters will keep you intrigued every moment of the film. 
     The story really isn't much, and you've seen it all before.  The Driver is a young man who works in a garage and part-time as a stunt driver for the movies.  He's also a driver in shady side jobs arranged by Shannon (Bryan Cranston), owner of the garage.  The Driver is a stoic, cold person who doesn't talk about his past, but he does have absolute confidence in his ability to drive, and there is nobody better behind the wheel of a car.  He doesn't laugh.  He doesn't love.  He drives. 
     That changes when he meets his neighbor, Irene (Carey Mulligan), currently living as a single mom because her husband is in prison.  The Driver falls for Irene and will do anything to protect her and her young son, with whom he develops a powerful bond. We can only speculate as to how they somehow penetrate his tough emotional armor, as we are never told anything about the Driver's past, but somehow, without being told, we know. 

Carey Mulligan as Irene

     We know that the Driver had a hard childhood, raised by his mother, and that his father was absent from his life for reasons unknown, and we somehow know that he wanted his father to be there for him in a very bad way. Shannon, the only other person that the Driver cares about, has become the father he never had. He knows that Shannon is less than perfect, but he doesn't care about the man's weaknesses. He's always there and he's always got the Driver's back.
      But I digress. This is pure speculation on my part. None of it is in the script, but nonetheless we get it.  That's the beauty of what the best actors can convey for us, and this film is rich in great actors. Even the villains, headed by Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman, are fascinating.  It's easy to forget that Brooks is a comedian when he makes such a cool, calculating gangster. 
      The Driver's brief moment of happiness ends when Irene's husband is released from prison and returns to his family.  Some shady prison connections have their hooks in him, and unless he plays ball and commits a robbery for them, they will harm his wife and child.  The Driver finds out about it and agrees to help to protect Irene.  Unfortunately they've been set up and the job goes badly.  Everything goes to hell quickly after that, and no one the Driver cares about will escape the consequences. 
     Drive is the kind of film you really don't want to like.  The storyline is simplistic and its internal logic has more holes than a pound of swiss cheese, but the characters are so compelling that we are more than willing to extend that old suspension of disbelief.  We know that the Driver is a bad guy, and that becomes clear in moments where he loses his temper and lashes out at his tormenters.  By the way, those moments of violence are not for the squeamish.  You've been warned.  But we want him to prevail in spite of all that, because we want to believe that there's good even in the worst of us, and protecting Irene and her son is a good thing. 
     Drive is going to have legs long after its theatrical run is over.  It's the type of film you'll run into on late night cable, and you'll watch it again and again. 



   

Silent Bob Grows Up

Red State                                                                                  
by Zac Sanford

      After creating his own cult following of stoners and slackers, Kevin Smith grows as a storyteller and filmmaker with his latest low-budget film, Red State.
     I must start this post with a bit of an advanced warning. When I was young I was a fan of Kevin Smith. I was enamored with Clerks when I rented it on VHS, laughed many times at Mallrats with my friends and then fell in love with Chasing Amy. Amy still holds up as one of the films that I'll throw on and watch at least once a year. There's something about the honesty there, and it spoke to me as an eighteen year-old with a broken heart.
      After Chasing Amy I still thought there was some merit to Dogma, but I fell out of touch with Kevin as a screenwriter and filmmaker. My guess? I grew up. I got over the juvenile humor that is peppered through a typical Kevin Smith film. Also he didn't really grow to the next level as a filmmaker. The camera just held steady as his characters talked--characters that I could no longer relate to or care about their journey. But that has all changed with Kevin's return to the writer/director chair after his short stint in the studio system.
     Red State begins in typical Smith territory. There's three teens (Michael Angarano, Kyle Gallner and Nicholas Braun) who have scored the opportunity for a threesome with an older lady. Once at her trailer, the film finally ramps up and moves out of the stereotypical Smith comedy. Sara (Melissa Leo) offers the trio some beers, which have been laced, causing them to all pass out.
     Jarod (Gallner) comes to and finds himself in a cage that is covered and being rolled out to a destination unknown. In the background a sermon from Abin Cooper (Michael Parks) starts.  He spews out all that is wrong in this world, not only to him, but to God. His words are full of hate of any view that doesn't fit with his own. Parks knows when to add a pause, when to add emphasis and where to add an extra bit of punctuation in what would normally be an overly long monologue just short of 15 minutes.
     About halfway through the film, the ATF is called onto the scene, as there is suspicion something sinister is going on behind closed doors. Joseph Keenan (John Goodman) is ordered by an unseen superior to go against his better judgement while handling the Cooper situation. The film explodes into a mix of gunfire and action that goes on a little too long. In the end no character is safe, nor is any character redeemable enough where you want to root for them to survive.

      The film hits the final point home in an epilogue that isn't entirely necessary. It gives the viewer some closure, but I feel it is Smith talking down to his typical fan, answering any questions they may have had about the resolution.
     Tonally Red State is all over the place, but for some reason it works for me. It jumps from a teen comedy to a horror film with a monster that could exist within the real world. Once the film gets to the halfway point it, jumps to an action film until it ramps down to a bit of social commentary in the end. Kevin doesn't only point the finger at the Cooper Family (inspired by the Westboro Baptist Church), but at the government and politics today. For those reasons, along with the strong performances of Michael Parks, John Goodman and Melissa Leo, I must give this a passing grade.
     Kevin Smith is currently self-releasing the film for one night only on September 25th in movie theaters through his Smodcast Pictures banner. The film is currently available by Video on Demand through the website www.coopersdell.com.

Events of 9/11 Inspired Guerilla Filmmakers

September Tapes                                                                    
by Mark Dispenza

     As Americans engage in solemn remembrance this weekend, I'm reminded of the incredibly gutsy journey the events of 9/11 inspired in a group of young indie filmmakers. 
     Within months of the fateful date, filmmaker Christian Johnston, previously a director of commercials, his co-writer, Christian Van Gregg, and actors George Calil and Wali Razagi, sneaked across the border into Afghanistan on faked credentials after being expressly warned not to do so by US Government officials. 
     Without diplomatic protection or bodyguards, the four young men roamed locations in and around Taliban-held Afghanistan and shot a faux-documentary in true indie guerilla style, utilizing Afghan locals in scenes that were often improvised on the spot.  In retrospect the project was incredibly naive and foolish, and the four were lucky they survived to edit and produce the finished film. 
     The result was September Tapes, a feature film inspired in part by the success of The Blair Witch Project. The plan was to create a documentary-style web site ala Blair Witch to build a strong fan base prior to release of the film.  Although the project fell short of Blair Witch success, it did manage to gross over $2,200,000 worldwide on a declared budget of $30,000--not a bad take for a low-budget indie feature.  Following its 2004 Sundance premiere, September Tapes became an audience favorite at film festivals around the world before going into worldwide theatrical release. 
     The story is a journey, reminiscent of Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, by American journalist Don Larsen (Calil) to locate Osama bin Laden and find the answers that have obsessed him since his girlfriend was killed in the attack on the World Trade Center.  With his Afghan-American friend, Wali Zalif (Razagi), to interpret for him, he seeks out the warlords of the Northern Alliance to gain intelligence on bin Laden's whereabouts.  Larsen and his team get arrested for taking photographs, and while incarcerated, they learn about a bounty hunter named Babak Ali (played by himself), who may be able to locate bin Laden for them. 

Local actors

     Viewers of the film have called it "more realistic than network news," and it's easy to see why.  Outside of the small group Johnston took with him into the country, the film used all Afghan locals in principle roles and as extras.  Most of them had no professional training, which added to the documentary effect.  However, it also meant that live ammunition was shot around and over the heads of the actors during gun battles, and the locals often got carried away.  During the tense scene in which Larsen is arrested, the real local cops, acting as themselves, got a little rough when pulling the actors from their vehicle. 
     Tragically,writer Van Gregg did not live to see the audience response to his work.  He took his own life in 2003 at age 29. 
     September Tapes is available for download on Netflix or Amazon. 

There's One in Every Family


Our Idiot Brother                                                                     
by Zac Sanford

     The black sheep of the family teaches his siblings a thing or two about life in Our Idiot Brother, a family drama with a comedic edge. 
     Everyone has someone in their family they try to avoid for one reason or another.  To his family, Ned (Paul Rudd) falls into that category, and even if he isn’t the brightest, everything he does is meant with the best intentions. 

     Ned is the type of modern day hippy who sells his own homegrown produce at a small town farmers market in upstate New York.  Everything is going smoothly until Ned is approached by a local policeman, in uniform no less, who has fallen on hard times and would like to buy some marijuana.  Since he’s such an upstanding person, Ned offers the policeman a bag of weed free of charge, but the officer insists on paying for it.  Once Ned obliges he’s hauled off to jail.

     Now you may be saying that any attorney could set Ned free based on entrapment, but this movie doesn’t go there.  Ned spends time in the slammer and is released early after winning “best inmate” four months in a row.  He stumbles back to his farm to find that his girlfriend, Janet (Kathryn Hahn), has moved on to Billy (T.J. Miller), another happy-go-lucky stoner, and she refuses to return his beloved dog, Willie Nelson.

     This leaves Ned with no choice but to seek refuge and comfort within the homes of his three sisters until he can save enough money to move back to the farm.  Once there he plans to accept Billy's offer to rent the goat barn and be reunited with Willie.
     Once Ned lands in the home of his oldest sister, Liz (Emily Mortimer), and her director husband, Dylan (Steve Coogan), he is offered a gig helping Dylan on his latest shoot.  After catching Dylan shooting a portion of the documentary with his subject in the nude, Ned thinks nothing of it as he’s told “being naked helps one get to their true emotions.”  This doesn’t even sit on Ned’s consciousness until he lets the memory slip to his sister, Miranda (Elizabeth Banks), who realizes Dylan is having an affair. 

Elizabeth Banks, Paul Rudd & Emily Mortimer

     From this point on, Ned is bounced from home to home, creating a ripple effect with each of his family members.  Things come to a head when one sister, fed up with the situation she believes is caused by Ned, gives him the money he needs to move into the goat barn.  No one is able to see their faults until Ned comes into their world and unearths the unlikable characteristics that each harbor.

     Is this a perfect film?  No.  But is it enjoyable?  Yes, in large part due to Paul Rudd's portrayal of Ned.  The sisters all come across as unlikeable and downright mean to their beloved brother, who just wants to feel like he belongs.  Everything he does and says is to live a life of truth and honesty, a life that his sisters don't relate to.
     This film has been mis-advertised across the board.  While the ads point to a good time led by Ned, Our Idiot Brother delves deeper into the family dynamic and ends up being more of a drama with slight bits of comedy thrown in.  Had Ned been a straight man in the script, this would have been billed as a drama, but his character gives the formula a fun new twist.
     As the summer comes to a close and the studios start to dump the duds on the multiplexes, I would recommend you catch this light-hearted romp.  Even if Ned gets on your nerves at times, and you just want to yell at him to grow up, maybe there’s something deeper down that needs to be explored.  Hopefully you have your own idiot brother to help you.
     The film was acquired from The Weinstein Company at this year’s Sundance Film Festival after it played to sold out crowds.

Still Waters Run Deep

The Future                                                                         

     Understated in its brilliance, The Future is a touching and imaginative exploration of the human condition in an era of diminished expectations. 
     This is the second feature film written and directed by Miranda July.  Her first film,  Me and You and Everyone We Know, swept multiple film festival audience favorite awards in 2005.  By her own admission she is a performance artist and short story writer first, and those artistic sensibilities give The Future its unique perspective. 
     As the story opens, Sophie (July) and Jason (Hamish Linklater) are a 30-something couple who have lived together for some time and are beginning to realize that their lives have not reached the pinnacle of career and financial success where they imagined they would be.  They decide to push the issue by quitting their nowhere jobs, turning off the Internet and adopting a stray cat.  This is not just any cat.  Paw Paw, as they call him, is in poor condition and may not live even six months.  On the other hand, with a little loving care, he can live another five years, the vet tells them.  When the couple arrives to pick him up, they are told that he needs to remain in the vet's care for 30 more days before he will be ready to go home with them. 
     The wait turns into a period of anxiety, particularly for Sophie, as the couple is left with another 30 days to contemplate what their life will be like when they bring Paw Paw home and what the future will hold for them all.  As Jason searches for a fulfilling new job, Sophie begins to worry that she is living the wrong life and seeks escape through an affair with a successful, older man.  She moves out of the simple apartment she shares with Jason and into the beautiful suburban home of new paramour, Marshall (David Warshofsky), as Jason faces the terrifying prospect of life without Sophie. 
     Interludes of fantasy provide insight into the inner conflict taking place within both Sophie and Jason.  The film is narrated by Paw Paw (the voice of July), as the cat impatiently awaits his imagined better future with the adopting couple.  When Sophie moves in with Marshall, Shirtie, a security blanket of sorts that Sophie has carried with her since childhood, follows her under its own power to her new home, despite everything she does to leave it behind.  Jason seeks the wisdom of the Moon and has conversations with his celestial mentor that lead him to the realization of his own personal power. 

Miranda July

     I was surprised by just how much I love this film, and I realize that it is very likely to be on my top 10 list for 2011.  Why the surprise?  This is a low-budget film with no big stars.  Its principle actors, July and Linklater, are relatively soft-spoken and have none of the power screen presence one expects from leads in an exceptional film like this one, yet both are charismatic in a very understated way.  In an age of fast cuts, the scenes are long and contemplative, focusing on visual elements with very limited dialogue.  There is no real action, and even the break-up scene is low-key, without the shouting and clever insults that one finds in the typical Hollywood film.  Most movies of this type put me to sleep, but definitely not this one. 
     Like the proverbial deep lake, this film has an abundance of life below its serene surface.  This is a story created by someone who is obviously a keen observer of human nature and knows how to present it to audiences using a perspective that is fresh, touching and entertaining.  The dialogue is sparse and bereft of clever lines, yet it is exceptionally well-written, complementing the visuals and infused with subtext that speaks volumes without the need for long discourse.  In sum this film has the finished appearance of a project that resulted from considerable effort and attention to every detail.  It is truly a work of art and a fitting showcase for July's considerable talent. 
     Incidently July is also the wife of Mike Mills, who wrote and directed Beginners, another exceptional American independent film released this year.  The two met when they both debuted at Sundance in 2005.  With such incredible talent under one roof, it blows my mind to imagine what the conversations must be like in that household. 
     The Future is currently in theatrical release across the United States. 

Voice of the Innocent



The Man Who Will Come                                                 
L'uomo che verrà

     Giorgio Diritti's cinematic masterpiece, The Man Who Will Come (L'uomo che verra), gives voice to the ordinary people who are the real victims of war.  It iis a dramatization of events leading to the Marzabotto massacre of World War II, during which 770 Italian civilians--mostly women, children and elderly--were executed by the Nazi SS. 
     In the winter of 1943, an Italian family in a rural area near Bologna struggles to endure the deprivation and injustice of a war forced on them by Italian fascists and their German allies.  8-year-old Martina (Greta Zuccheri Montanari) has refused to talk since the death of her infant brother a few years before, and now she eagerly anticipates the birth of a new sibling as family activity centers around her pregnant mother, Lena (Maya Sansa). 

Claudio Casadio & Maya Sansa



     As the war draws closer, life becomes increasingly difficult.  The occupying Germans, who were previously little more than a nuisance, are more and more nervous as the Allied forces draw closer and emboldened Italian partisans step up their attacks.  On a night in September 1944, Martina's baby brother is finally born, just as the SS unleashes a horrific reprisal against civilians they suspect are supporting the partisans. 
     Like City of Life and Death, The Man Who Will Come is a moving and powerful indictment of war that gives voice to the innocent people whose lives have been stolen by the political agendas of others.  In his director's statement, Diritti said that "representing through film the events of Marzabotto means keeping man's conscience alive and alert, and also educating present and future generations in order that in some future tomorrow another ideology does not deform the meaning of life by annihilating the human conscience."

Greta Zuccheri Montanari



    The child, Martina, is representative of the people who live on the land where war is fought.  She is an innocent who  loses her voice at the beginning of the conflict, and she will not regain it until those who wage war are gone.  Most of the story is seen through her eyes in an impressive performance by a child actor. Italian veterans Alba Rohrwacher and Claudio Casadio round out a fine cast. 
     The Man Who Will Come won three David di Donatello Awards (the Italian Oscar) in 2010, including Best Film.  As of this date it has not obtained USA distribution, so do reserve it on your Netflix queue. 

     To see a trailer for this film with English subtitles, please visit this link from the San Francisco International Film Festival. 

The Future is Now

Bellflower                                                                                  

     I have seen the future of American independent film and it's called Bellflower.  Evan Glodell's no-budget feature debut is a precursor of the new paradigm in indie filmmaking. 
     As Hollywood concentrates more and more on event films based on tried-and-true properties enhanced by 3-D digital effects and other sensory gimmicks, independently created and produced films are being knocked out of the cineplexes and into a shrinking number of art houses. Irrepressible indie filmmakers are seeking new ways to be seen and heard, leading the way in innovation through the use of streaming media, social media, crowd funding, and new breakthroughs yet to be seen.
     During our interview in May, filmmaker John Sayles predicted that indie films in the future will be made by "film bums," people who have the compelling drive to make film but do not have access to conventional sources of finance and distribution.  Their projects will be completed with the support of friends motivated entirely by passion, and their process will be fueled by ingenuity in place of the resources they lack the money to buy. 
     Broke-ass Evan Glodell is the poster child for this new generation of filmmaker.  His process for the creation of Bellflower took over 8 years from script to screen.  Instead of digital effects, the gadgets and props were invented and handmade by Glodell and crew, including the actual cameras used to film the project (see Coatwolf Model II), as well as the Medusa car and the flame-thrower.  It took Glodell 90 long days of trial and error to film Bellflower, something that would have taken an experienced filmmaker only 2-3 weeks to accomplish.  During the Q&A at the Los Angeles premiere, Glodell talked about the lack of funding that plagued the project, as well as the constant fear of being one technical glitch away from complete failure over the months and years that led up to completion of the project. 
     It was not even a foregone conclusion that he would spend the money to enter Sundance, but it was indeed fortunate that he rolled that dice, given the subsequent attention he received for Bellflower, instead of a possible alternate future in which nobody but those who were involved in the project would ever get to see the completed film. 

Jessie Wiseman & Evan Glodell



    During the opening minutes of Bellflower, I began to wonder why I actually paid to see the sold-out premiere screening at the Los Angeles Nuart.  The production quality was unexceptional, the story and shot choices appeared amateurish, and the part-scripted/ part-improved dialogue sounded like speeches in which all the "ums" and "ahs" had been left in.  I actually toyed with the idea of walking out of the film. 
     That would have been a huge mistake.  A few minutes more and you could not have pried me out of that seat with a crowbar. 
     Bellflower is the story of Woodrow (Glodell), a young man whose subsistence existence is made tolerable by a scheme hatched with best friend, Aiden (Tyler Dawson), to build a flame-throwing muscle car called the Medusa.  Inspired by The Road Warrior, they dream of a post-apocalyptic world in which the Medusa will give them the power to rule over the surviving minions of the desert. Woodrow imagines that he is the Humungus, the powerful leader of his desert tribe, a man who does as he pleases and answers to no one. 
     Then Woodrow meets Milly (Jessie Wiseman) and falls completely in love with her, but Milly has her own issues, and she warns Woodrow not to fall in love with her, because she is destined to break his heart.  Of course, Woodrow follows his heart and not his rational mind, and Milly does exactly what she warned him she would do, sending him into a downward spiral that wrecks both of their lives and the lives of those closest to them.  The romantic break-up escalates from emotional pain to violence, building to an inevitable cataclysmic conclusion. 

     When it comes right down to it, none of this film's technical flaws, amateurish values or quality issues amount to anything in light of its compelling storyline.  The emotional power comes from Glodell's own devastating romantic break-up years ago, and writing the first draft of the script was his emotional catharsis.  His is the irrepressible voice of the indie filmmaker that appreciative audiences at Sundance and SXSW, and currently in theaters in Los Angeles and New York, are hearing loud and clear. 
     Glodell's story draws on the shared experience of young love and heartbreak, something most members of the audience understand intimately well.  They readily identify with Woodrow's heartbreak, pain and desire for vengeance, Milly's almost cold-hearted fear of intimacy, or the collateral damage they inflict on their best friends, Aiden and Courtney (Rebekah Brandes).  We all recognize the gap between the Humungus, the invincible being we desire to be, and the complex reality of emotional pain and anguish that really defines who we are.  The actors did a wonderful job of bringing that emotional angst alive in their characters. 
     There was no red carpet at the no-budget Los Angeles premiere.  In fact there was no carpet outside the theater at all, although it seemed that every member of the cast and crew was in attendance--dressed in Target and Ross street clothes instead of expensive designer creations.  There was no security in evidence--certainly not the off-duty police or highly-trained men-in-black one often sees at red carpet premieres. 
     I was pleasantly surprised to find my old friend, Emily Lu, present as the Bellflower publicist.  She is now part of Brigade Marketing, a recently formed Hollywood public relations and marketing firm with the ambitious mission to pioneer new film marketing models for the digital age. 
     As film goers from the Nuart poured out of the theater following the Q&A at the film's conclusion, Glodell pulled the Medusa car up front for a full-on demonstration of the car's working flame-thrower for the enthusiastic crowd.  As the Medusa belched flame high into the air on busy Santa Monica Blvd., I waited for what I thought would be the inevitable arrival of LA's finest to shut down the show and send everyone home.  They didn't appear while I was there. 



     The part of me that is a trained, professional risk manager was appalled by the apparently uncontrolled mob scene, including the spectacle of poor 5-foot-nothing Emily frantically pressing the crowd back onto the sidewalk, out of the busy street and away from the flame-belching car, with the help of a few good Samaritans who came to the rescue. 
     As I stood there at the front of the crowd, nearly choking on the fumes from burning fuel, I felt like a kid again.  I had the same big smile everyone else had at that moment.  It smelled like indie spirit.