WANDERING ABOUT IN SOUND AND VISION
Summary
The AFI Film Festival 2006
Article
Written By: John Esther, CJ Johnson, Ed Rampell, Don Simpson, Pouya Bavafa, Robert Buhrow, Laura Keller, Kenari Lee and Arika Mariana
Now it its 20th year, the AFI Film Festival 2006 runs Nov. 1-12, primarily at the Arclight Cinemas in Hollywood.
Featuring over 100 films, documentaries and shorts, the festival has the legitimate reputation of being the best one in Los Angeles when it comes to film selection. Overall, last year’s festival was excellent.
This year’s selections will be divided into such categories as: Galas; Special Presentations; International Feature Competition; International Documentary Competition; World Cinema; African Voices; American Directions; Asian New Classics; Latin Cinema Series; and Dark Horizons. A preliminary look finds this year’s festival to be heavy on films about sound, whether they are about the gift and importance of sound, music as subject and narrative, or about other ways of approaching a visual text.
Opening Night at Graumman’s Chinese Theatre AFI will screen the US premiere of Bobby (screenings Nov. 1, 7:30 p.m. (Gala); Nov. 2, 3:30 p.m. at Arclight) and will conclude with the world premiere of Yimou Zhang’s Curse of the Golden Flower (screening Nov. 12, 7 p.m.). The two Centerpiece Galas will be David Lynch’s Inland Empire (screenings Nov. 3, 9:30; Nov. 6, 7 p.m. (Gala)) and Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain (screening Nov. 11, 7 p.m. at Graumann’s Chinese Theatre).
The Galas are considerably more expensive than the regularly screenings, which run $8-12, depending on the screening time. There are further discounts for seniors and students with valid ID when you buy tickets on the day of the show.
If you prefer watching a slew of older films of unstable quality, the 24-Hour Movie Marathon (screenings start Nov. 11, noon) will be held on at the Mark Goodson Theater on AFI’s beautiful Hollywood campus. The $60 ticket price goes toward the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria.
In addition to the films, there will be tributes, parties, seminars and plenty of eager people, some with recognizable names or faces, pushing their film(s).
The following is a list of 200-300 word film and documentary reviews untainted by any sponsorship involvement in the festival. -- John Esther
Antonia: The first time the four women of singing group Antonia perform on stage as a group, the film’s lead, Preta (Negra Li), claims how she is not "a feminist nor a pessimist." She has got that right. None of these women are as they let men get in the way of their ambitions, friendship and future. These women may brag about their strength onstage, but it becomes a disingenuous anthem when you view their lives offstage. Shortly after their first public performance as a group, Mayah (Quelynah) is released from the quartet because of Preta’s foolishness over a man. Lena (Cindy) gets knocked up and quits the band. Barbarah (Leilah Moreno) is incarcerated for opening up a deadly can of ass whoop on some punk (beating a teenager to death is not what I consider "Women Power!"). Director and co-writer Tata Amaral’s film addresses sexism, homophobia, unexpected pregnancies and other problems in the girls’ neighborhood of Brasilandia, a favela on the outskirts of São Paolo, Brazil, without being bombastic -- although the coincidences and the pace in this 90 minute film border on the contrived. Fortunately these appealing women can sing and act, which is more than I can say for one of the actor cast as Lena’s boyfriend. His overacting is highlighted by the camera’s insistence in getting up close. Nevertheless, despite this actor and Aranal’s direction of him, this Latin Cinema Series selection is quite good until the last 10 minutes of the film. Then it takes a harebrained rotation toward fantasy and box-office profits. -- John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 4, 9:45 p.m., Nov. 5, 4:15 p.m.)
The Art of Crying (Kunsten At Graede I Kor): If you ever felt too detached to relate to those who have been sexually abused, director Peter Schonau Fog’s is a film to bring you extremely close to the evil reality of sexual abuse. Just watching the excellent portrayal by Jesper Asholt as an abusing father makes you sick. Dad whimpers, cries, and threatens suicide, all to garnish whatever level of attention he can attain from the unsuspecting. His son Allan (Jannik Lorenzen) is completely entranced by his father. His father’s tears are unbearable to the point that Allan even encourages his sister, Sanne (Julie Kolbeck), to "comfort" their father. Allan is so naïve he does not understand or even conceive of the atrocities occurring between his sister and his father. For the psychological observer, the film virtually displays all levels of the family dysfunctions where molestation is occurring: detachment, secrets, silence, sympathy seeking, distractions fabricated when arguments occur, and the lack of empathy, escapism, and violence from the disassociated. Yes, it is all here, maybe to excess. At times this International Feature Competition selection reads like a psychology book – perhaps a little too blatant. Written by Bo Hr Hansen, eliminating some scenes might have tightened the film but, as it is, it sharply hits home. Not for the weak at heart or those emotionally disturbed easily. – Robert Buhrow
(Screenings Nov. 3, 7 p.m.; Nov. 4, 3:15 p.m.)
Back Home: One of a dozen selections in the International Documentary Competition J.B. Rutagarama chronicled his return to Rwanda after the Sept. 11 attacks. A young man whose mother was Tutsi, the noticeably tall Rutagarama was marked for death by Hutu henchmen during the 1990s genocide. With a great amount of luck on his side – and surviving during genocides is a matter of great luck - coupled with the sacrifices of his brother to whom the documentary is dedicated to, Rutagarama managed to get out of the country. During this tumultuous time, the first strangers whose kindness Rutagarama could rely on were two reporters. Coupled with the kindness Rutagarama learned from them how powerful images are in getting peoples’ attention. Rutagarama returned to Rwanda with his camera in order to track down his family, recapture his lost community and chronicle a world unfathomable to the eyes of most Americans. As bittersweet as one would want it to be, this powerful documentary shoots into your eyes and ears until it grabs you by the heart and grabs a hold of you. Recommended. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 5, 6:45 p.m.; Nov. 6, 5 p.m.)
Bab ’Aziz: A great thing about film fests is they often present movies from afar with different cinematic sensibilities. Directed and co-written by Tunisian Nacer Khemir, and shot on location in North Africa and Iran, this African Voices selection is a complete departure from typical Tinseltown flicks. The leisurely paced story stars a white-haired, bearded, turban-wearing grandfather, Bab ’Aziz (Parviz Shahinkhou) and his adorable little granddaughter Ishtar (Maryam Hamid) -- not exactly characters that appeal to Hollywood’s 14-year-old male demographic. Nevertheless, that special bond between grandparents and grandchildren, rarely seen in Hollywood, is center stage in this fable about love, madness, death and the meaning of life. Ishtar is leading blind Bab ’Aziz through the desert to a mystical gathering of dervishes amidst the sands. En route, and in flashback-type tales, we encounter a prince, poet, motorcyclist, antelope, scribe, sand carrier (certainly the Sahara’s most useless job), etc., in a world of fezes and Alhambra-style architecture. A few romantic scenes are quite modest by our steamier standards. There is traditional Arabic and/or Persian dancing, along with a sonorous soundtrack of Middle Eastern music, plus some sweeping, lovely long shots. Everything about the film is so foreign to our Westernized mentality that it conjured up that old Monty Python saying: "And now, for something completely different" (although it’s not a comedy). Cinematic self-determination means the self, not the other, determining its own image. Here a North African controls the screen image of his own people. Watching it is like entering another realm in both form and content, which is what makes the film so intriguing, especially in this day and age of the so-called "clash of civilizations" between Islam and the West. – Ed Rampell
(Screenings Nov. 11, 6:45 p.m.; Nov. 12, 12:30 p.m.)
Big Dreams, Little Tokyo: "Who am I?" is the omniscient gag in writer-director-actor David Boyle’s unique and amusing comedy about a young Caucasian man who teaches Japanese. Set in Utah, Boyd (Boyle, who studied Japanese at Brigham Young University) is an entrepreneurial young man who runs as many jobs as he can. When he is not trying to sell his book, Boyd teaches Japanese to his gluttonous Japanese-American, wannabe sumo wrestler, roommate, Jerome (Jayson Watabe) or teaching English to a Japanese-American nurse, Mai (Rachel Morihiro). He is not much of a financial success but Boyd is not interested in working for someone else or living off of his successful father (Dane Allred). As things begin to escalate out of control, sure enough, Boyd, the ever industrial and absurdly anal young man, is on the ropes when he is asked to translate a business meeting between Japanese and Mexican businessmen at a Japanese restaurant the same night he has an important amorous date. Will he do it? Can he make both? Will there be a Hollywood ending to this young man living the American-Japanese dream? Of course we know the answer – this is a comedy after all – but the jokes, gags and situations are good nonetheless. This American Directions selection will probably be a forerunner for the AFI Audience Award. Start brushing up on your Japanese and Spanish. Recommended. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 2, 9:45 p.m.; Nov. 3, 1:30 p.m.)
Blindsight: For you more pessimistic (or reasonable) types who have a hunch that this International Documentary Competition selection about a bunch of blind teenagers hiking the Himalayas will be full of hokum while showing us "blind people are like the rest of us" will be delightfully surprised. Hitting the right notes throughout, director Lucy Walker’s documentary commences with blind mountaineer Erik Weihenmayer reaching the summit of Mt. Everest – the tallest peak on earth. While many are impressed with such a feat, those kinds of accomplishments -- climbing Mt. Everest, finishing a marathon, swimming the English Channel, etc. – seem like a massive waste of human endeavor. If those personal achievers put in that kind of effort toward social change, it would be really impressive and certainly more important. In so many words, Weihenmayer agrees with this sentiment and, in so many images, so does the documentary. After climbing Mt. Everest, Weihenmayer found the work of Sabriye Tenberken a greater accomplishment than his. The founder of Braille Without Borders Tenberken deals with Tibetan blind kids. Viewed as a form of bad karma in the land of mountaintop monasteries, blind kids are blamed for their blindness. They are abused, shunned and treated as outcasts. For example, after a blind boy bumps into a woman, she says to him, "You deserve to eat your father’s corpse." (Hey, China, need some anti-Tibet material? Look right here.) After reading of his Mt. Everest triumph, Tenberken wrote a letter to Weihenmayer asking him for his help. The correspondence lead to six Tibetan teenagers setting out to climb the 23,000-foot Lhakpa Ri, on the north side of Mt. Everest. As the group head up the majestic mountainsides, the journey soon becomes something more than personal victory and conquest. It improves humankind. Recommended. -- John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 6, 7:15 p.m.; Nov. 7, 1 p.m.)
Come Early Morning: Grab yourself a six-pack of Coors Light for actor Joey Lauren Adams’ (Chasing Amy, Dazed and Confused) writing and directing debut. It seems that life in Arkansas revolves around Coors Light and bottles of it pollute the screen like a bad rash. Suggested drinking game: continue to drink whenever a Coors Light bottle appears on screen. Okay enough jabber about shameless product placement. Ashley Judd plays Lucy (the aptly nicknamed "Luce") who has made a habit of sneaking out of the motel rooms and houses of drunken one-night stands early the next morning. Tossing her soiled panties in the trashcan, Lucy begins the day after as if nothing happened. Her life is an aimless quest for the next Coors Light and good lay with no strings attached -- all thanks to the deluge of failed relationships and alcoholics encompassing her. The new good ol’ boy in town, Cal (Jeffrey Donovan), attempts to save Lucy from herself, or at least break her from the habit of sneaking out in the pre-dawn. Contrary to the other guys in town, Cal doesn’t wear Wranglers and enjoys old country music; he seems to have his life together with a good job and T-Bird. Lucy continues to instantly drop her panties whenever Cal is around and that is as much of a relationship she can offer him. Lucy recognizes her problems and attempts to reconcile them by confronting her father, the person who fated this life to her. This Special Presentations selection is an intriguing feminine perspective on small town life for a single thirty-something woman. Despite her turmoil, Lucy is a strong and intelligent woman able to hold down a respectable job as a contractor. She appears content with the endless one-night stands as long as a Coors Light is in her hand. – Don Simpson
(Screening Nov. 9, 9:30 p.m.)
Comic Evangelists: This begins innocently enough as a documentary about a group of Kalamazoo Christian comedians who perform biblically inspired and sparsely attended improvisation skits at churches. Then the effeminate Nigel (Adam Carter) gets the brainstorm of entering the troupe in the Toronto International Improv Festival, which will expose the group, and its all-important evangelical message, to a broader audience. Whereas the proselytizing and brainwashed Christian soldiers of the documentary, Jesus Camp, are downright scary, this motley crew of crusading comics is increasingly revealed to be preternaturally stupid. Noah (Eli Rix), bespectacled goober, asks the troupe’s sole black performer, Boniva (Jennifer K. Moubray), what African province her name is from while their putative apostle, Rick (Dann Sytsma), calls peeved Boniva "Velveeta" and "Godiva," and mispronounces Gucci as "Gucky." In the name of all that is holy, surely, nobody is really this dumb. Then it dawned on me I wasn’t watching a documentary at all, but rather a "mockumentary." Upon realizing this, this American Directions selection loses much of its zing. Instead of being a trenchant expose of the Christian Right, it becomes a mildly amusing attempt at satirizing Jesus freaks and their foibles, lampooning their obsessions with homosexuality, premarital sex, faith-based approaches to reality, etc. Rick is challenged by the biblical precept "thou shalt not lie," and his dishonesty symbolizes the deceptiveness of Jimmy Swaggart, Jim Bakker, Ralph Reed and their ill ilk. With their stem cell research and Terri Schiavo shtick, these merry missionaries are easy targets; but I suspect true believers will not be amused as they enter the lion’s den of co-directors Daniel Jones and Sytsma. And once secularists realize they’ve been had and aren’t watching a documentary, I imagine the joke will wear as thin as the veil of Veronica. – Ed Rampell
(Screenings Nov. 5, 9:45 p.m.; Nov. 6, 4:30 p.m.)
Danika: It’s a long way from My Cousin Vinny territory, as Marisa Tomei stars in this horror flick about Danika Merrick, a banker suffering from terrifying hallucinations, delusions or premonitions. This 35-year-old ’burby mother of three keeps having bloody visions of a bank robbery, suicide school bus bombing and that old standby, the old-severed-head-in-the-shopping-bag routine. Whether Danika has a sixth sense, the gift of prophecy or is merely nuts, she sure is suffering in this flashback and flash forward filled film (shot on video) skillfully directed by Israeli Ariel Vromen. To find out what’s the matter with Danika, she has an MRI and sees a shrink (Regina Hall, who is, appropriately, a Scary Movie franchise veteran). Hmm, Dr. Freud, vhat have ve here: Danika bursts in on teenaged son Kurt (Kyle Gallner) in bed with the dark-skinned Spanish exchange student Myra (Danay Garcia), and also catches hubby Randy (Craig Bierko) in the act with the nanny (Hall in a Freudian dual role). Danika also busts her prepubescent daughter for reading a sexually explicit novel after Lauren (Nicki Prian) asks: "Mommy, what does ‘cunt’ mean?" There is much menstrual-type blood and glass breaking (which symbolizes the loss of virginity in the Jewish religion), plus beheadings that represent castrations in this Dark Horizons selection. Let’s see, Herr Doktor, could it be that horror pix, like the religious right, know that sexual anxiety terrifies people? At least poor overwrought Danika is spared the ultimate horror of being ensnared by the horrors of America’s healthcare insurance system. As sexually repressed Danika, Tomei - who won an Oscar as Mona Lisa Vito - proves once again what a great actress she is, even sans that hilarious Brooklyn accent. Recommended. – Ed Rampell
(Screenings Nov. 2, 10:00 p.m.; Nov. 3, Noon.)
Dark Corners: The scariest thing about this movie is that someone actually expects it to be taken seriously. I’m sure that writer-director Ray Gower started out with the best of intentions, but didn’t he think there was a possibility the film wouldn’t be taken seriously when he fashioned such a silly script? My favorite moment is when David Hamilton (Christien Aholt) is meant to be romancing his wife. David: "Would you have sex with me if I were a dog?" Susan: "No, but if you were a horse." David: "A horse? Of course!" Wow. But even if the script had been palatable; even if the blood hadn’t look like Heinz 57; even if the actors had been able to act their way out of a paper bag; the film still would suffer from that itsy bitsy problem of having a ridiculous plot. Susan Hamilton (Thorna Birch) is about to undergo IVF treatment. She thinks stress is causing her to experience some gruesome nightmares in which she is a different person who is hunted by a creature called "the Night Stalker." Ooh, scary. In fact, the only thing that’s truly scary about this film is a passing character that looks like Her Majesty the Queen on Botox. I will, however, give credit where credit is due and say that the film does have one delicious moment involving a fantastically creepy mortician who looks like Boris Karloff sewing up a cadaver that apparently isn’t terribly keen to be sewn up. If the whole movie had been like that, this Dark Horizons selection would have been something to laugh and scream about. As it is, though, the movie is only something to laugh about. The bottom line: skip it. Or better yet, print out the script and Mad-Lib it for next year’s Halloween party. – CJ Johnson
(Screenings Nov. 10, 10 p.m.; Nov. 11, 2 p.m.)
The Dead Girl: Writer-director Karen Moncrieff’s film is a suspenseful chiller set in contemporary Los Angeles. With an impressive cast including Mary Steenburgen, Giovanni Ribisi, Toni Collette, Josh Brolin, Kerry Washington, James Franco and Brittany Murphy, the film plays out five seemingly unrelated occurrences, slowly unwinding, interlinking, and exposing the tale of the horrific murder of a young woman (Murphy). Think of a cross between Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia (we’re all connected in this small world) and Christopher Nolan’s Memento (the aftermath begins at the start of the movie) and you get the idea. Subtle explanations reveal the characters’ existential feelings of dread as a domino effect stemming from incest; emotional abuse; child abductions and runaways; nuclear families reacting dysfunctional; and individuals struggling with apathy within communities unravels. Notably the film touches on the private lives of a few working poor -- whose stories are rarely told in Hollywood. The lack of theatrics and clichés common in most Hollywood flicks is appreciated, but the fact many well-known names were participating in this indie-approach movie was a bit disturbing. I felt cheated because underdeveloped characters undid the movie. Having said that, the gritty cinematography was shot well, and the cast performed superbly. Should you want to view this film on the big screen, it would be better viewed in smaller theaters versus larger amphitheaters; but I suggest saving your money on this Special Presentations selection by renting it when it comes out on DVD. -- Kenari Lee
(Screenings Nov. 7, 7 p.m.; Nov. 8, 1:30 p.m.)
Disappearances: Speaking of the disappearances, where was the voice that should have said, "This film is not worthy of AFI"? About three minutes into Jay Craven’s movie, Cordelia (Genevieve Bujold) tells Wild Bill (Charlie McDermott) that, "Everything has a point. You just need to know how look for it." Perhaps the only thing more irritating about this mumbo jumbo is the irony. Beginning in Vermont, 1932, this American Directions selection follows several prohibition-era bootleggers on a journey through a magical forest on both sides of the Canadian-USA border. Lead by Quebec Bill Bonhomme (Kris Krisofferson), these bootleggers plan on bam-booze-ling their Janus-faced employees. During the trip, it will give Bonhomme (that is French for "good man") time to connect with his equally-absurdly named son, Wild Bill. Having been doggone for years, bonding with Billy is about as easy as acquiring some Canadian whisky with the seemingly immortal Carcajou (Lothaire Bluteau) blocking the way. As business and personal life intermingle into a concoction of boredom, the movie passes on such cockamamie wisdom as: "Hell is empty; all the demons are here" and "Never regard [a French-American entendre] the ordinary without perceiving the extraordinary." Look out, Voltaire! Run for cover, Gandhi! Step aside, John Trudell! There is wiz-dumb in this here talky picture. If these epigrams were not bothersome enough, Craven’s characters negatively use the English language: "Ain’t never nothing else"; "I don’t eat nothing that don’t walk on four legs, like a man." Is this authentic or merely a literary trick? Moreover, the movie’s character development is poor and its spirituality is silly. If I were not against picking on children, I would mention McDermott’s performance, too. In other words, point not well taken. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 6, 9:30 p.m.; Nov. 7, 1:30 p.m.)
Family Ties: South Korean director Tae-yong Kim’s film chronicles two unrelated materfamilias that connect by film’s end. Deconstructed down into three departments, the first family’s story follows two women, Mira and Mu-shin (played by So-ri Moon and Doo-shim Goh respectively) brought together by a big talking, lazy bones of a brother and husband, Hyung-chul (Tae-woong). This is the comical segment of the film. In the second section a young woman, Sun-kyung (Hyo-jin Kong) lays it on pretty thick for her mother, Mae-ja (Hae-ok Kim), who spreads herself pretty thin between terminal illness, debt and a hopeless romance. This is the sad segment. Tying the first two, the third segment brings together a sweet, young woman, Chae-hyun (Yu-mi Jung), with an obnoxiously jealous young man, Kyung-suk (Tae-kyu), who believes his girlfriend’s sweetness makes her "too easy." This is the funny, sad and mostly bittersweet segment. Written by Tae-young Kim and Ki-young Sung, the splendidly drawn characters personify a wide range of emotions that are not gratuitous or redundant. With such find writing the actors can calmly, and surely do, emanate those emotions. On the other hand, Sung-woo Cho’s score tries to hard to guide our reactions. This Asian New Classics selection is strong enough to make us feel, we do not need heart-tugging tones to get it. Recommended. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 9, 7 p.m.; Nov. 10, 3:45 p.m.)
Fissures (Écoute Le Temps): The more I think about director Alanté Kavaïté’s first feature film, the more it reminds me of other films, as well as literature. For example, the film resembles some films of Michelangelo Antonioni and Claude Charbol, Brian de Palma’s Blow Out, Neil Jordan’s The Crying Game, Oliver Stone’s World Trade Center, Peter Medak’s The Changeling, Christopher Gans’ Brotherhood of the Wolf, Edgar Allan Poe’s The Tell-Tale Heart and The Black Cat…to name just a few. Charlotte (Émilie Dequenne) is an audio engineer who comes home after her mother (Ludmila Mikaël) is mysteriously murdered. Haunted by her mother’s unusual behavior and subsequent death, Charlotte holes herself up in the house. During her depression Charlotte starts hearing strange house sounds through her recording device. These sounds may tell her how her mother died. So Charlotte proceeds to place, record and mark up the house with her recording device until she figures out what happened. Of cinematic course, the last place she puts her recorder is the place that will reveal her mother’s final moments. While the main storyline is rather ridiculous there are some interesting aspects to this story. Primarily, it reminds the viewer that listening to a film can be every bit as important, if not more so sometimes, than looking at a film. I actually would not mind experiencing this International Feature Competition selection out with my eyes closed. Phillipe Richard’s sound design and the soundtrack are brilliant (It would be good practice for my French, too). There is also a welcomed anti-polluting message as well. Yet the film’s conclusion -- following some heavy handed gynecological symbolism -- is predictable, simplistic and just a little too reactionary for my taste. As if organic farmers are bad people! – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 5, 9:15 p.m.; Nov. 6, 4:15 p.m.)
Four Minutes (Vier Munuten): Monica Bleibtreu plays Traude Krüger, a lonely, cranky septuagenarian with a pro-fascist past now teaching piano at a woman’s prison. One of her student’s is Jenny von Loeben (Hannah Herzsprung). A phenomenally gifted pianist, Jenny has too much rage and disappointment inside her to play piano or by the rules. Yet she has too much rage and disappointment inside her not to play. In a battle of wills between elderly disciplinarian and enfant terrible, Traude orders Jenny to stop playing "that Negro music" and learn her Schumann (those Nazi sentiments do not die easily). Jenny may well learn her Schumann but she will never give up her music. As the director-screenwriter Chris Kraus’ spatially-conscious film progresses, we discover Traude’s attraction and eagerness to assist prisoners is not motivated by some homophobic presumption about lesbians, but rather a self-imposed form of repentance for allowing the death of her lover at the hands of some Nazis. Fixed with this pain throughout her life, Traude’s distant memories of political horror coincide with Jenny’s more recent memories of personal horror -- including rape, incest, infant mortality and abandonment. As gloomy as an Ingmar Bergman or Rainer Warner Fassbinder film, this World Cinema selection is wonderful to hear. While it may seem slow at times, stay seated until the end when it crescendos into an absolutely stunning four-minute radical reworking of Schumann’s "A Minor Concert." – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 7, 9:45 p.m.; Nov. 8, 1:15 p.m.)
Forgiven: If you’re going to take on a controversial issue, please, actually take on the controversial issue. When it comes to issues like the death penalty, everyone has a strong opinion. So if you’re going to make a film about it, then you sure as hell better make sure you have something to say. And if your film is supposed to be "unbiased" then keep your personal agendas out of it, otherwise you’ll just end up pissing off cranky old cows like me. This Americann Directions selection would have been much better if writer-director Paul Fitzgerald had actually known what he wanted the film to say, instead of pretending to be noble (or worse, important) by claiming to represent "both sides" of a controversial issue. Five years before the film begins, Randal Fuller (Don Henderson Baker) was prosecuted by Peter Miles (Cooper Agar) and sentenced to death for murder. Seconds from being put to death Fuller is reprieved. Miles, who is now running for Senate, is faced with a big fat problem. Does he believe that Randal is still guilty of his crime? Miles says yes, but this "saved" Senator knew Randal was innocent when he prosecuted him. When Randal discovers evidence of foul play, he retaliates in a disturbing manner than I’m not going to discuss. Suffice to say, what he does is make Miles suffer the greatest pain a father could imagine. Ah, isn’t Fitzgerald oh-so clever? Now Randal is guilty of the crime for which he was first condemned and we’re left to decide who was in the right and who was in the wrong: the self-righteous Jesus-loving conservative or the discriminated-against, system-repressed minority who just wants to have a chance? Provocative, yes, but too cowardly to say what it really wants to. – CJ Johnson
(Screenings Nov. 2, 7 p.m.; Nov. 3, 1 p.m.)
Frozen Days (Yamin Kfuim): A text where its plot works against a moving-image medium, writer-director Danny Lerner posits the Israel-Palestine situation into an individual dis-Course. Anat Klausner plays Meow, a woman living a very lonely life selling drugs, occupying empty spaces and chatting online. One night Meow decides to meet Alex, a mysterious man she has been maintaining an electronically epistolary relationship for some time. They meet but she can never quite see his face. They touch. He flees. He appears. He disappears. He calls. She calls. Are Meow’s sexual frustrations manifesting into paranoid delusions? Is this/his part of a living hell she occupies? Jean Paul Sartre, who wrote a lot about individual freedom in a situation, portrayed hell as other people. (The gentile-atheist Sartre also wrote a lot of brilliant things about "What is a Jew?") Perhaps hell is really no people at all? Well hell is certainly living in a part of the world where you can be blown up while having a good time at nightclub. Shot in black and white, the only time the film moves into color is when Meow gets high at an Israeli club – a club which will be/has been bombed. Working against the black and white, this International Feature Competition selection operates in the gray. No image or situation is in black and white for Meow. For all she knows, she died in the bombing. Nothing-ness remains perfectly clear in this story about a part of the world operating politically and personally in chaos. Who is dead and who is alive? If I had gone here instead of there…There for the grace of G-D go I. Lock up your hats. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 2, 9:30 p.m.; Nov. 5, 4 p.m.)
Full Grown Men: This American Directions selection isn’t the attack on male maturity I’d hoped it would be. And thank goodness, otherwise the understated poignancy that makes this film both enchanting and provocative would have been lost. Co-writer and director David Munro has spun the whimsical yarn of a 35-year-old Peter Pan named Alby (the outstanding Matt McGrath) who longs for the carefree days of childhood and decides to rebel against everything that being adult means. Equipped with nothing but a hothead of childish tenacity and a suitcase full of collectable action figures, he walks out on his frustrated wife and son, and hooks up with his childhood chum Elias (the wonderful Judah Friedlander). They embark on a hilarious road trip (watch for Alan Cumming as a disgruntled hitchhiker) to the Mecca of childhood frivolity: Diggityland. What ensues is a fantastic, outrageously entertaining slew of surprises including fighting midgets and a middle-aged mermaid (Debbie Harry). Perhaps Murno’s greatest achievement is the character of Alby himself. He could easily be unbearable, but his blithely ignorance of the grown up workings around him makes his figure more tragic than obnoxious. "Somewhere along the way the world got serious," Alby says. "Something had changed, and it wasn’t me." Munro succeeds in wedging pity from the viewer because it becomes clear that Alby really is a kid trapped in a man’s body and simply never learned what growing up really is all about. We root for Alby, even though we have every reason not to, and get one of those embarrassingly warm fuzzy feelings when he finally understands that being an adult doesn’t mean you don’t screw up — it just means you take responsibility when you do. Highly Recommended. – CJ Johnson
(Screenings Nov. 3, 9:45 p.m.; Nov. 4, 3:30 p.m.)
Glue: There is a restlessness and petulance here that makes it difficult to be wildly enthusiastic about the film. Yet somehow that very petulance is what makes the film so intriguing because the mood perfectly befits the subject matter itself: teenage adolescence. The arid expanse of Patalonia, Argentina, was the childhood home of director Alexis dos Santos, it is home to three blossoming teenagers: Lucas (Nahuel Perez Biscayart), Nacho (Nahuel Viale) and Andrea (Ines Efron). Dos Santos’ skill and artistry gives his vibrant young cast a playground of searing blue skies and burning, vast sandy hills to muck about in. We really do get the feeling that, not only are these kids in the middle of nowhere, but they’re stuck there -- leaving sex, drugs and rock and roll as their only avenue of finding some sort of identity. Lucas is lost amidst a swarm of siblings and plagued by an all-consuming boredom with life, Nacho is a handsome soccer player who thinks about little other than sex, and Andrea is caught in the transition from mousy little girl to an eager, active woman. They plan trips to sex motels, watch porn, sniff glue and wander aimlessly from one day to the next. Dos Santos has assembled a brilliant group of young actors, and twenty-year-old Biscayart is particularly impressive. His delicate blend of vulnerability and naiveté with the frustrations of raging teenage hormones makes it nearly impossible for us to pay attention, or even care, about anything else in the film. It’s a shame this International Feature Competition doesn’t have more of a direction, as its aimlessness becomes rather laborious to sit through. But then again: if teenagers lack direction, it’s difficult to fault the film for doing the same thing. – CJ Johnson
(Screenings Nov. 4, 7 p.m.; Nov. 8, 4 p.m.)
The History Boys: When a film begins with the opening notes of New Order’s monstrously brilliant, and still popular for those who like to think while dancing, "Blue Monday." my ears prick up. And your ears will need to be pricked up and out as Alan Bennett’s screenplay rams through education, architecture, histrionics, hermeneutics, poetry, politics, literature, law and lasciviousness without lingering for a moment. Set in 1983 – thus the "Blue Monday," as well as Echo and the Bunnymen’s "Never Stop (Discotheque)," the Cure’s "Forest" and other smart songs from the mid-1980s -- this story about several extremely bright students trying to get into the likes of Oxford and Cambridge, is filled with the joys of learning, the anguishes of loving and that bittersweet last year of youth before one -- if he or she is smart, lucky and rich enough -- enters university. Based on Bennett’s successful play of the same name, director Nicholas Hynter erases that play-into-film aura to create a refreshing film. For the most part, this Special Presentations selection is a blithesome, intellective experience. Unfortunately, three disturbing flaws mar the film (As opposed to guitar extraordinaire Johnny Marr, whose Smiths appear, too). First, the smartest person (Richard Griffiths) here is a homosexual, corporal-punishing pedophile, which is just what anti-intellectual America does not need. Secondly, that he, albeit figuratively (or was it God?), pays for this transgression with his life is just what homophobic America expects. Thirdly, the lives of the two minorities in the film are reduced to nearly nil. We only know what white guys are about when they have no class. Recommended. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 4, 6 p.m.; Nov. 5, 12:30 p.m.)
The Host (Gue-Mool): Eschewing the reactionary tropes of the supernatural or working class threats to the ruling classes vis-à-vis mutant horror in most American movies, Joon-ho Bong’s film brings a social conscious to this story about a world running amok. The film begins with chemicals being dumped into a drain leading the Han River. Years later Kang-du (Kang-ho Song) is working, sort-of, along the Han River when something on a bridge attracts a crowd. It falls into the water and comes closer. It looks funny. They throw it some food. It takes a bite. It disappears. La, la, la, life goes on…Kaboom! A big large creature soars upon the riverbank wreaking havoc and hell on an idyllic day. During the pouncing and prey Kang-du’s daughter Hyun-seo (A-sung Ko) is captured by the monster. Assured she is dead, the hapless father and his kin seek vengeance. Produced with passable special effects, this Dark Horizons selection whimsically mixes horror, humor and hits against America’s-influence and environmental negligence on quite a few levels. On another level, the host’s (the Korean title means "The Creature") confluence of male/female genitalia playfully structuralizes that pubescent fear of sex typical in more reactionary "horror" texts. Besides, who/what is it going to reproduce with anyway? Considering this was Korea’s top-grossing film of all time, you should probably buy your tickets ASAP if you want to see it before its Jan. 2007 release. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 3, 10 p.m.; Nov. 4, 1 p.m.)
Homecoming: The liberation movement against South Africa’s racist regime has proven to be fertile filmic fodder for activist artists, and director Norman Maake’s film is a good companion piece to Phillip Noyce’s Catch A Fire (both films feature actress Bonnie Henna). This African Voices selection is a thoughtful, worthwhile look at what happens when guerrillas go from civil wars to civil servants. After 20 years in exile in Swaziland, three victorious veterans of the African National Congress’ MK military wing -- Thabo (Tony Kgorge) Charlie (Siyabonga Twala) and Peter (Eric Miyeni) -- return home to South Africa following Apartheid’s downfall. The comrades-in-arms find it hard to readjust to civilian life and new realities - even if their side won. The struggle continues, as they try to pick up the pieces of how they now fit into the scheme of things. "What revolution?" asks one? Another says, "I thought we were fighting for socialism," and is told: "Forget about socialism." For the first time, Thabo meets the son he fathered while slipping in and out of the country on missions for the MK, AKA "Spearhead of the Nation," and is rejected by his embittered ex, Thandi (Nthati Moshesh), who is returning from America and making a homecoming of her own. The drama is set against the backdrop of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and it turns out that one - or more! - of the heroic freedom fighters may have broken under torture, flipped, and become an informer. Originally a mini-series for South African TV, the film derives plot elements from actual experiences of its screenwriter, Zola Maseko, a former MK fighter. Recommended. – Ed Rampell
(Screenings Nov. 10, 7:30 p.m.; Nov. 11, 1:30 p.m.)
Kurt Cobain: About a Son: Except maybe for the Beatles, Nirvana has probably been written about more than any other band during the last 15 years. It is a testament to the band’s brief yet massive impact on the music world that the media have continued to this day to churn out literature both new and old regarding the band’s fruition, destruction, and everything in between. Of course, the central focus of these articles and books has almost always been the band’s youthful leader, Kurt Cobain, whose angst-ridden genius and horrific suicide became a mirror for the decadence of modern American society. It is this mirror director A.J. Schnack tries to hold up in his documentary and, given the subject matter’s over-saturation in the media over the last decade and a half, it’s a surprise the film is not a complete failure. Based on taped interviews this International Documentary Competition selection narrates the story of Cobain’s life from childhood to rock fame in the deceased singer’s own words. Cobain’s voice is set to images and videos of the three formative geographies of Cobain’s young Washington life: Aberdeen, Olympia, and Seattle. Interestingly, in an attempt to convey the environment that created Cobain and that generation, Schnack uses only footage of contemporary Washington, avoiding visuals of the frontman, Nirvana, or the American Northwest at the apex of the grunge era. On the one hand, this approach provides some relief from the banal repetitiveness of the traditional rock band documentary and certainly of Cobain’s oft-recounted life. It also universalizes the singer’s story and gives it a pretense of relevance to the contemporary American viewer. Unfortunately, here the mish-mashing of past person and present society doesn’t work. It only weakens the film’s main theme of exploring Cobain’s tragedy in the light of a stifling, "corporatized" America in the late 80s and early 90s. -- Pouya Bavafa
(Screenings Nov. 4, 9 p.m.; Nov. 5, 1 p.m.)
Life After Tomorrow: For the many titular tike stars of the utterly banal Broadway hit, Annie, their lives came crashing down when tomorrow came and they were no longer the pop vulture red-headed mop-top icons they once were. Now thirty years later, co-directors and co-producers Jill Stevens and Gil Cates, Jr., catch up with the likes of Sarah Jessica Parker (Sex and the City), April Lerman (Charles in Charge) and others to wax opine and pine nostalgic about the highs and lows of celebrity life during childhood. Exposed to gay men in the theater, drugs at Studio 54, and the national spotlight before they "started developing" -- once you showed signs of puberty you were out, these girls grew up intellectually faster than emotionally, and emotionally faster than physically. Parents pushed their kids to smell the life they never had. Behind the spotlights there were parental affairs, divorces and an abortion. These poor Orphan Annies onstage received good money offstage. School was out and the show was on. Then it went off. How do you return to a normal life? The women interviewed in this American Directions selection are candid, some a lot more than others. Despite the post-Annie pain none of them seem to have regretted or scarred permanently from their experience. In fact, the only psychologically troubled person is Jon Merrill, an ardent Annie fan and collector who had seen the show over 100 times (Speaking of hell). Having said that, the worst thing about this documentary is how many times they play that damn "Tomorrow" song during it 75-minutes running time. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 11, 6:45 p.m.; Nov. 12, 3:30 p.m.)
More than Anything in the World Mas Que A Nada En El Mundo (Mas Que A Nada En El Mundo): Angel faced seven-year old Alicia (Julia Urbini) is convinced her mother is possessed by a vampire. How else can you explain the suspicious red bruises on her mother’s neck? The truth is that the only thing her mother is possessed by is her career and an inexhaustible fix to be loved. Alicia is willing and ready to give her mother all the love she could ask for, but it’s not enough. Co-written and co-directed by Andres Leon Becker and Solar Cortes Javier, this Latin Cinema Series selection is a tender tale of two struggles: Alicia’s struggle to understand why her mother keeps pushing her away, and her mother’s struggle to fill the void in her life left by the bitter breakup with Alicia’s father. Egged on by her precocious, bright-eyed friend Lucia, Alicia becomes certain her mother’s destructive behavior must be the evil workings of a sickly man in their apartment building and, desperate to have her old mother back, she ventures into the old man’s apartment to end his curse by placing a cross in his room. Becker and Javier have lovingly crafted an affectionate film that’s far from extraordinary, but still the flaws of which are softened over by a thoroughly engaging performance from the delightful young Urbini. – CJ Johnson
(Screenings Nov. 10, 9:45 p.m.; Nov. 11, 4:15 p.m.)
Motherland Afghanistan: Not to downplay their importance, but when you have seen one contemporary documentary on Afghanistan you have seen just about all of them. Not so with director Sedika Mojadidi’s superb documentary about her parents’ medical-humanitarian work in Afghanistan. Riddled with war, religion, superstition, patriarchy and other misogynistic elements, Afghanistan is one of the worst places in the world when it comes to women’s health. Nonetheless Dr. Qudratullah Mojadidi frequently leaves his safe haven in Virginia, USA, to return to his homeland and help, in what little way he can, the plight of women who are ill or pregnant at the appropriately named Laura Bush Maternity Ward in Kabul, the Shuhada Hospital, and other hospitals in rural places so unsanitary and ill-equipped you would not take one of US Vice President Dick Cheney’s buddies for treatment if Cheney had accidentally shot the guy’s balls off while hunting. Sometimes accompanied by his wife, physician Nafisa Mojadidi, the OB/GYN doctor tries to save the lives of poor women and children. Sometimes he succeeds, but too often he does not. The facilities are just too primitive, and the US Dept. of Health and Human Services is not moving fast enough on their promise to aid and abet these poor people in a foreign land (thus contradicting former US Health Secretary Tommy Thompson who declared Rabia Balkhi was "a state of the art hospital where women were receiving topnotch care." But what is another lie?). An International Documentary Competition selection, if watching this doc about a doc who improves womankind were not enough, his insights into the US-Afghanistan relations are acute and concise. Recommended. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 3, 7:15 p.m.; Nov. 4, 1:30 p.m.)
Next: A Primer on Urban Painting: In an anthropological line with our ancestors who sketched their marks on the walls of the cave, graffiti art is alive and well around the world. Or maybe it is like a dog that pisses on the wall to leave his scent? It depends on how you feel about graffiti as an art form, on your public walls, and as a medium for social dissidence. A true International Documentary Competition selection, for his first documentary, director-producer Pablo Aravena traveled to New York, Montreal, France, Amsterdam, Tokyo, Säo Paulo and elsewhere to trace the people, points and painters putting their form of expression on the streets. Heavy on endorsement and low on criticism against people who paint on public spaces without permission, Aravena gained considerable access to the lives of these artists who often must remain anonymous for fear of being arrested. To add to the portrayal of an often-reviled form of expression among the elderly yet esteemed by the youth, journalists, sociologists and art critics chime in on their public painting perspectives. If you are down on this sort of thing, there will be an exhibition in a gallery located at 5472 Wilshire Blvd. Nov. 5-12. Artists that will be included in this group are Dzine, Jose Parla "Ease," Fafi, Shepard Fairey "Obey," Flip, HVW8, Labrona, Nano 4814, Nina, Other, Psyckoze, Lee Quinones, Rostarr, She One, Sixe, Skwerm, Stak, Steff Plaetz, Will Barras and Zosen. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 3, 9:30 p.m.; Nov. 4, 4 p.m.)
No Sweat: In this all too-brief look into the Los Angeles garment district, Amie Williams’ documentary juxtaposes two seam-ingly worker-friendly T-Shirt manufacturers: American Apparel and SweatX. Sewn together by mostly undocumented workers from south of the border, these two companies adopt their own approaches to how and why workers should be offered better wages, a safe workplace, benefits and worker ownership (Holy Socialist Infiltration! I thought we won the Cold War?). While well intended, the intentions of these two companies, along with a union, and this documentary, are slightly mixed. Although they are headed in the right direction, the sojourns of these four entities are occasionally misguided. American Apparel honcho Dov Charney behaves like he is a benevolent king lording over his fortunate subjects. Funded by Ben Cohen of Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream, SweatX cares about its workers as long as it is profitable. A union tries to unionize American Apparel under dubious reasons. Although staunchly pro-worker, this International Documentary Competition selection offers some firepower to those campaigning against worker-friendly workplaces and unions. Ah, the price of honesty. Speaking of price, with a running time of 54 minutes, asking full price ($8-12) for this video documentary is about as unfair as paying someone a sweatshop salary. At least throw in a T-Shirt. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 7, 9:45 p.m.; Nov. 8, 5:30 p.m.)
The Road (Fangxiang Zhi Lu): Jingchu Zhang plays Chunfen Li, a woman who serves as a tour guide, literally and figuratively, through the years after Mao’s cultural revolution in the late 1960s to the present, in Jiarui Zhang’s lovely film. We first meet Liu as a bus tour guide. As sweet as a peach, Liu is proud and happy for her new land under the People’s rule of one man (and his gang). Chunfen feels especially privileged to work for a bus driver, Master Cui (Fan Wei), who actually met Mao. All is well until the loins and love start churning for a young doctor (Nie Yuan). Chunfen gets into trouble -- they may call themselves The Party, but nobody is going to have "bourgeois" fun in this fiesta. As the years pass, Chunfen’s sexual oppression is juxtaposed with the oppression of the Chinese ruling elite. As her sex becomes slightly more liberating (the sex in this film is as tame as an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie), once she marries, China liberates somewhat as it marries, or, at least courts, the free market. Yet hardly a free spirit, Chunfen is a bit shocked by the continued loosening of morals over the decades until she becomes somewhat of an old prude. Unlike Yimou Zhang’s similar The Road Home, this Asian New Classics is not afraid to point the finger at the party pooper of the century. (Along with Stalin, Mao is the greatest betrayer of socialism/communism.) Mao’s face, messages, threats, and legacy are omnipresent. He, the gang of four, and others, claimed to build a government for the people, but the people’s revolution came from love and the desire for liberation, and that includes making love. The body is not just for labor. Recommended. -- John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 5, 9:15 p.m.; Nov. 6, 3 p.m.)
Screamers: Social and political activism combined with art and music are primary elements in Carla Garapedian’s documentary about the Armenian Genocide. The film features interviews with members of the rock band, System of a Down, who since their inception, have taken a progressive approach in bringing awareness and recognition to the Armenian Genocide, the first genocide of the 20th century. Vocalist Serj Tankian and his band mates sing songs about the oppression and brutality of the Armenian Genocide orchestrated by the Ottoman Empire in 1915 (i.e. "P.L.U.C.K."). Similar to many Armenians around the world, Tankian’s grandfather is a genocide survivor. The band also takes a stand to not only raise awareness of this "forgotten genocide" -- which Turkey to this day denies and the US government refuses to officially acknowledge, but other mass murders as well. The documentary also addresses the genocides of Cambodia, Rwanda, Bosnia and Darfur and even looks at how the Turkish government has silenced its own people from knowing about the Armenian Genocide. One attempt has been to jail Turkish scholars who have mentioned the word genocide. The denial of the genocide weighs heavily on the Armenian identity as Armenians of the Diaspora look for closure. An important documentary about an often unspoken subject, this International Documentary Competition selection shows how art and activism can be taken to a higher level for humanity’s sake. Keep your eyes and ears out for Tankian and his mates at AFI. Recommended. – Arika Mariana
(Screenings Nov. 2, 9:45 p.m.; Nov. 3, 2:30 p.m.)
The Secret Life of Happy People (La Vie secrète des gen heureux): Although courageous, cruel, consisting of a capable cast and featuring some really good roles for women, the plotlines in writer-director Stéphane Lapointe’s film are a little too foreseeable to make this a first-rate first feature for the Quebecois. Thomas (Marc Paquet) is an annoying loser with more money than imagination on his hands. Still living at home with his folks, Thomas is about to finish his university degree in architecture. Although he would rather do animation than architecture, Thomas does what his father, Bernard (Gilbert Sicotte), tells him to do. And whatever dad cannot instill in son, dad and mom (Marie Gignac) arrange for it to be so. Thomas lacks ambition; Thomas gets a pep talk. Thomas needs an internship in Chicago; Dad makes some arrangements. Thomas cannot get a girl by himself; la mere and la pere arrange to buy Audrey (Catherine de Léan) for him. It must be constantly painful to have a son like Thomas when you are so successful, smart and happily married. Thomas is unaware of the Audrey arrangement and, it turns out, so are his parents, too. A romancer at heart, Audrey has plans of her own and they do not coincide with Thomas’ happiness or his parents’ marital bliss. While this International Feature Competition selection should be complimented for its ferocious portrayal of mercilessness near the end of the film, the fact the film permits Thomas to make plans which will finally break the shackles of his parents -- during the prolonged conclusion to this film -- rings hollow. Expect a few doubting Thomases and Teresas to exit the screenings. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 4, 9 p.m.; Nov. 5, 3 p.m.)
Shoot the Messenger: Nigerian-British director Ngozi Onwurah’s eye-opener explicitly deals with the theme of black self-hatred more than any other feature I’ve ever seen, including Spike Lee’s School Daze and Malcolm X. Joe Pascale (David Oyelowo) is a successful black professional who idealistically becomes the sole black teacher at a largely black school in London. But this is no To Sir, with Love. Joe soon discovers that the road to hell is paved with good intentions when Germal (Charles Mnene) falsely accuses his strict teacher of assaulting him. After being vilified by the media and activists Joe is sacked. Seething with self-denial and loathing he spray paints "Fuck black people!" on the school. As no good deed goes unpunished, Joe descends on a Dante-esque downward spiral through madness, homelessness and menial jobs. Christian intervention helps turn his life around; Joe slowly rebounds and romances come hither Heather (Nikki Amuka-Bird), an employment counselor who lands janitor Joe a position at her job center. There, Joe re-encounters his tormentor, Germal, who has been thrown out of school and has "no qualifications." Vengeance-seeking Joe finds his nemesis a sewage worker job. Continuing on his path to self-acceptance, Joe pressures Heather to stop conking her hair, but at a party clashes with black consciousness nationalists. He remains (perhaps like Onwurah and screenwriter Sharon Foster?) conflicted about his identity. Heather leaves him, and Joe gets a new job at the mental institution he’d previously been a patient at, where Germal again materializes. Germal represents the black underclass Bill Cosby denounces, while Joe symbolizes upward mobility. Will they reject each other or seek rapprochement and forgiveness? I suspect "blame whitey" ideologues will fault this thought-provoking film, but this African Voices selection is arguably one of the festival’s "must see." Recommended. -- Ed Rampell
(Screenings Nov. 5, 9:30 p.m.; Nov. 6, 1:15 p.m.)
Soap (En Soap): Danish director Pernille Fischer Christensen wants romance, but instead tells a tale of escapism. After abruptly leaving a four-year relationship with her boyfriend, Kristian (Frank Thiel), Charlotte (Trine Dyrholm) moves into a flat and meets Veronica (David Dencik), a transgender. Both struggle with intimacy: Veronica is a prostitute estranged from her father and Charlotte begins a series of one-night stands. While they both feel no connection to their sexual partners, they become closer to each other when Charlotte thwarts Veronica’s suicide attempt. Their relationship develops further when Veronica saves Charlotte from being beaten further by Kristian. Then a series of scenes with growing sexual friction follow. While they prove to be unfulfilling for both characters, Veronica professes her desire to be with Charlotte in the concluding scenes. Like she usually does, Charlotte responds with a strong rebuff, but ultimately chooses Veronica over Kristian. This World Cinema selection attempts to juxtapose Charlotte’s almost masculine demeanor with Veronica’s inherent womanly characteristics, but does little else to explain why two people with divergent sexual orientations are attracted to each other. With minimal character development, it is difficult for the viewer to determine how Charlotte’s rudeness and Veronica’s despair correlate into love. The film ineffectively tries to explain this through the insertion of two metaphors via one of Veronica’s favorite soap operas. Apart from disclosing that Veronica is awaiting authorization for a sex-change operation, Kim Fupz Aokeson’s screenplay is also unsuccessful in addressing the full scope of the challenges of their would-be relationship. Without meaningful outside characters to help contextualize the character’s feelings, the director constructs a narrative at each third of the movie to review events for any viewer that missed obvious points. The black-and-white narrations also foreshadow coming scenes and makes painfully clichéd observations that do little to lessen the confusion. – Laura Keller
(Screenings Nov. 6, 9:30 p.m.; Nov. 7, 1:45 p.m.)
Somebodies: Directed, written and starring Hadjii, this blunt story about a 22-year-old aimless alcoholic named Scottie (Hadjii) is funny or, as Scottie would say in the context of ridiculing an illiterate white person, "F-U-N-E-Y." Scottie bounces from job to job without a goal in sight. He falls asleep in church. He and his buddies eat oranges soaked in alcohol during class. He is numb to the rather comical world around him. Perhaps the absurdity of Athens, Georgia (replete with homeboys R.E.M.’s "Everybody Hurts"), drives Scottie to drink? Then one day Scottie meets Diva (Kaira Whitehead). A fellow churchgoer and boozehound, Diva likes to play "Monster’s Ball" with Scottie. In transformation, Diva may be just what Scottie needs, although he does not know it yet. Filled with gags about crazy church sermons, funky funerals, a nutty family and goofy friends, the comedy in this American Directions selection is padded with some touching and humorous nods to unconventionally talented people around town: a guitar player who hops around singing a song about his dog; an elderly impoverished man walking and singing in the streets; and a woman who can make her mouse play with her tongue (I still laugh when recalling this last scene in my mind). Recommended. – John Esther
(Screenings Nov. 3, 7 p.m.; Nov. 4, 1 p.m.)
AFI Film Festival 2006 will primarily be held at the Arclight Cinemas, located at 6360 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles. Walk-Up Box Office is on the 7th floor. For more information, log onto www.afifest.com or call 866/234-3378. Schedule subject to change.
For more AFI Film reviews check - AFI Film Reviews Continued - in our Cinema Section.
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