Leye

Well, chances are you got to be living in a big city to be able to catch those "Foreign, Alternative and Independent" films in the theater. If you live in Toronto or NY, you would consider yourself really lucky. Since the festival hold each year there basically has most of the "Foreign, Alternative and Independent" worth to watch.

I know that the 3 CINEMATHEQUE group in Canada (Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver) have really great program of foreign films. They once had a complete retrospective on Hou Hsiao-Hsien. Imagine that, it might be once in your life time. You don't even get that in Taiwan.

Anyone interest in compiling a resource list/guide for viewing "Foreign, Alternative and Independent film" in your city? The list would normally includes film festival, video rental store specialized in foreign film, art theater, martial art/japan anime group, university video library, language group with movie program. It would be fun to see what we get.

My all time top 20

Michael Reuben

Lost in La Mancha, or Why Terry Gilliam Should Stay out of Spain

The shadow of Baron Munchausen hangs over Terry Gilliam as he returns to Spain (the scene of that disastrous filming experience) twelve years later to begin shooting his dream-project The Man Who Killed Don Quixote. After a week of mishaps, culminating in the illness of French actor Jean Rochefort, who was playing Don Quixote, the $38 million production collapses and is shut down. And what began as a "making of" featurette turns into a can't-look-away documentary of a train wreck that leaves you wondering how any film ever makes it to the screen.

If you're familiar with Gilliam's Criterion commentaries, or the documentary that accompanied Universal's special edition of Twelve Monkeys, then you won't be surprised at the articulate and colorful character who pops off the screen in La Mancha. As narrator Jeff Bridges explains early in the film, Gilliam's reputation as an enfant terrible is only partially deserved. The Munchausen disaster was more the producer's fault than his (a contention borne out by the materials that Criterion assembled), and most of his films have made money. Still, there's a reason why one of his producers refers to him as "Captain Chaos".

The bulk of the mishaps that you see in La Mancha are the kind that might end up as footnotes in the history of any big studio production: NATO jets flying overhead for training exercises during the shoot, a sudden unexpected storm that destroys the location where the company has been shooting for several days (the footage of the storm is pretty spectacular), animals that won't obey their trainers, etc. But the decisive problem came when the 70-year-old star of the film was declared unfit by his doctors for an indefinite period of time. At that point, with no financial safety net because the film was not studio-financed, the European producers pulled the plug.

The film is a must for Gilliam fans, but it should also be required viewing for every HTF member who has ever used a phrase like "what the director intended". Although I'm sure this was not their focus, the documentarians Keith Fulton and Louis Pepe end up demonstrating in great detail just how collaborative an art filmmaking really is -- even in failure -- and how much the director's "vision" is at the mercy of people and things over which he has no control at all.

Technical notes: Lost in La Mancha was filmed in digital video, and its correct aspect ratio is 4:3. Landmark's excellent Sunshine Theater in New York City displayed the film on a properly masked screen in the correct AR. The digital video no doubt gave Fulton and Pepe great freedom, but it comes at a price. There are many shots, some of them animated, of Gilliam's elaborate storyboards and concept art, and these suffer mightily from the limited resolution of DV. Any part of a drawing with fine detail reveals serious aliasing of the type that I used to see only on my TV screen.

M.

Pascal A

Okay, I ended up seeing The Road (Darezhan Omirbaev), Love Torn in Dream (Raoul Ruiz), Happy Here and Now (Michael Almereyda), and demonlover (Olivier Assayas). All the showings of 11'09"01 were all sold out. These films are all currently undistributed, but hopefully, they'll be picked up soon (I'm especially rooting for Happy Here and Now and The Road from this batch). Here are my Journal Notes:

The Road (2001). If the visual expression of artistic process in Federico Fellini's surreal and reflexive film, 8 1/2 were to be distilled into the spare, elemental cinema of Abbas Kiarostami, the result would likely be similar to Darezhan Omirbaev's evocatively muted, endearing, innately affectionate, and poetic film, The Road. A pensive director named Amir Kobessov (played by fellow Kazhakstanian filmmaker, Jamshed Usmanov) is currently in the process of editing his next film (based on Omirbaev's Killer) when he receives a telegram informing him of his mother's illness and is encouraged by his wife to return to his rural hometown and pay a visit. Alternately reflecting on dilemmas of artistic integrity, cultural and traditional reverence, self-doubt, inspiration, marital friction, fidelity, physical attraction, and familial estrangement, The Road is a visually sublime and understatedly metaphoric insight into the creative - and innately human - struggle of the contemplative soul.

Love Torn in Dream (2000). Raoul Ruiz's Love Torn in Dream is an inscrutably hypnotic, painterly, structurally organic, and logically impenetrable film that lyrically and visually conflates a series of historical periods, role-swapping character actors, and states of consciousness into a fanciful - albeit distended and maddeningly opaque - tale of love, fate, and destiny. Similar to Time Regained in the lush imagery and temporal fluidity of the film, Love Torn in Dream episodically interweaves several fable-like stories that include of a band of pirates marooned on a coast, a seminarian who plays an innocuous prank on a demure and beautiful nun at the confessional, a young man searching for his father, a restless wife who pines for her absent husband, and a fatigued web developer who discovers an internet site that predicts his actions 24 hours in advance. However, despite its sumptuous texturality and intricate composition, the film suffers from a tediously repetitive and defiantly nonsensical and idiosyncratic absurdist tone.

Happy Here and Now (2002). A young woman named Amelia (Liane Balaban), has arrived to New Orleans to search for her sister, Muriel (Shalom Harlow) after she abruptly and inexplicably lost contact with her, and the key to the beautiful young woman's disappearance seems to lie in the formatted harddrive of her laptop computer. It is through this mysterious framework that Michael Almereyda explores the growing phenomenon of technological alienation in Happy Here and Now. The opening shot of Almereyda's organically fluid, understated, and intriguing film is composed of a pixellated, split framed monitor image of a private webchat as a highly articulate, self-confident, and dashing firefighter, Eddie Mars (Karl Geary) discusses the illusion of human contact in the virtual social environment of the internet with a solemn - and achingly receptive - Muriel. As the young man seductively muses on late night online chats on the surrogacy of online avatars, illusion of perfect love, and elusive ideal of platonic relationships, the film serves as an insightful meditation on the nature of reality, disconnection, and intimacy.

Demonlover (2002). The insidious consequences of technology are similarly explored in Olivier Assayas' ambitious, savage, and thematically replete, but ultimately unfocused and tangentially occluded feature Demonlover. The initial premise of the film centers on the ruthless machinations of competing corporations as they respond to the delicate final negotiations over a partnership with a successful Japanese animé studio that is currently developing hyperrealistic 3D adult manga animation for the internet: code named "demonlover". But in order to finalize the highly lucrative and symbiotic venture, the individual parties are compelled to address several commercially inconvenient and questionable internet ventures, including a possible association with a notorious, real-time snuff-broadcasting underground website ominously known as the Hell Fire Club. Unfortunately, despite Assayas's admirable exploration of a difficult and complex subject on the blurred delineation between reality and fantasy, consumerism and exploitation, the film suffers from a meandering, preposterous, and schizophrenic plot that inevitably dilutes the film's relevant, underlying themes of corporate greed, technological amorality, and voyeurism.

Strictly Film School , Senses of Cinema, YMDb Top 20

Lew Crippen

Saving a country and saving a woman would be the same thing to him, a comment made by Michael Caine’s journalist character on the oh, so idealistic title character portrayed by Brendan Fraser in

The Quiet American.

And what a pairing, particularly by Caine, as they vie for the love of Phuong and are driven by circumstances and their characters to subtrfuge, heroism, and betrayal.

This is a finely realized version of Graham Greene’s novel of the same name. Though it has been many years since I have read the book, this film captures (as I remember) Greene’s intent and feel, even if it is not, in all cases an accurate rendition. The essential moral questions that Greene always presents in his works remain intact: what is the world and our place in it; why are we not who we seem; what is the nature of love or desire; and why is the world more complex than we thought.

All of this without characters shouting or having outwardly dramatic confrontations. But inwardly the turmoil is brought to a boil. The passion repressed by each character explodes on the screen as events drive the country to an ever-escalating violence.

Presenting us with yet another set of questions to ponder: these ones are questions more of State and the stand taken by protagonists as they attempt to resolve their view of ‘what is right’ from a broad sense, to ‘what is right for me’.

A powerful film indeed, directed by Australian Phillip Noyce, in far different fashion than his recent efforts (I except Rabbit Proof Fence) and photographed by Chris Doyle (most familiar to me as Wong Kar-Wai’s DP), these men bring us a pace and a look, that ranges from languid to urgent and always matches what we expect at the time.

For me, Caine has the best performance in 2002, though I expect that he and the film will be ignored when the awards are handed out.

¡Time is not my master!

Michael Reuben

City of God

I don't have much to add to what's been said in numerous published reviews. The film is thoroughly engrossing, tossing you back and forth between the exhilaration of its technique and the despair of the circumstances it portrays. In some ways it reminded me of Goodfellas, except that Goodfellas took place in an ordered society. In City of God, the only rule is that there's always a more dangerous psychopath ready to take down the one that's currently on top. Long before the film reaches its bleak conclusion, it's become clear that the murders, beatings and rapes occurring almost randomly throughout the film have little or no purpose; it's just what people do.

The film is a marvel of storytelling technique. It juggles a lot of characters, played by different actors in different eras, and it uses every trick in the book -- voiceover narration, flashback, freeze-frame, you name it -- to keep the viewer anchored in the story. Just when you're starting to have trouble remembering who did what that led us to this point, the film slips you a little reminder. I suspect repeat viewings will reveal even greater depth, and I'm looking forward to it.

M.

Holadem

Love Liza 1/2

Love Liza deals with the grieving process of Will, an IT tech whose wife just commited suicide. Will's reluctance to open the suicide note is the device used to string the audience along in this otherwise very unfocused movie.

Somehow the filmmaker must have thougth that watching will wander around in a perpetual gazoline induced high was entertaining - it's not. Perhaps the lack of focus is supposed to represent Will's state of mind? Not very effective.

None of the characters are even remotely interesting, including the lead. Hoffman does an excellent job as usual, but that alone is not enough to make this one worth it.

--
Holadem

Chris_Richard

The Quiet American

I think twenty cities get the film today. Phillip Noyce has done a very good job at adapting Graham Greene's novel for the screen.

Michael Caine has his best role in years (though for the year I must go with Adrien Brody as my favorite) and Bredan Fraiser shows why he need to do more films like this. These two are perfect as outgrowths of their respective countries.

My only complaint is that revealing the fate of the characters in the first scene and telling the film though flashbacks takes some of the sting out. It has been so long since I had read the book I don't remember if it is the same. And Michael Caine's voiceovers seem to be there just to replay what just happened for people that missed the symbolism.

Overall I really liked this film. The look takes you back to French Indochina of the 1950s with the wonder photography, Chris Doyle also did Rabbit-Proof Fence, another great looking film. Also, Lew we must have been in the same screening the other night.

Lew Crippen

Probably so. My wife and I had dinner across the street at Paris Vendome, the French bistro right across the street before the screening. It fit in well with the theme of the night.

As far as Brody’s role goes, in many ways I consider it more difficult as he has such long periods where he must carry the scene without dialog. On the other hand, I have to admire the combination of world-weary restraint and passion for Phong (and for Vietnam) that Caine brings to his character. Plus there is a little of the last salesman syndrome in my assessment of his performance. I’m very pleased with both performances and don’t really care which one is best.

BTW, I used to live in Plano. When we returned to the States we moved closer to where we normally go to movies and dinner.

I was not put off by the flashback. I thought that it was all a part of the inevitability of their fate, and of their inability to have acted differently. Still, if I find time, I may reread the novel—it’s been a long time for me as well.

¡Time is not my master!

Michael Reuben

No "last salesman" syndrome, here, Lew. It's been over two months since I saw The Quiet American, and it's still my favorite performance by an actor from last year.

(It just occurred to me that my review probably got archived with the 2002 Alternative thread. It's here.)

I very much admire Adrien Brody's work in The Pianist. In the opening scene, which is one of the film's most harrowing, he tells you volumes about Szpilman without a word of dialogue. But for all of its power, there's a certain sameness to Brody's persona throughout the movie that is almost unavoidable, given the character he plays and the story he's telling. The film is all about how Szpilman held onto something at his core as everything around him was destroyed; so Brody has to do variations on the same thing for over two hours. He does it brilliantly, but the range is relatively narrow.

OTOH, Caine's Thomas Fowler runs the gamut of extremes from reserve to rage and despair, often surprising himself with the intensity of his own emotions -- and the amazing thing is that Caine makes it all seem quite natural and believable. It's a stunning piece of work, without a hint of mannerism or artifice. Unfortunately, it's probably going to be overlooked in favor of Nicholson's much more mannered and artificial work in About Schimdt.

M.

Chris_Richard

At lunch I was out and caught the tail end of an interview of a Michael Caine interview on Fresh Air. It was a repeat from a few years ago but very interesting. Some PBS radio stations replay it at night so. I thought it interesting he turned down a role in Women in Love due to the nudity.

Caine & Brody's performances are by far my two favorites. I might be giving the edge to Brody because he is newer, I guess I just expect a great performance from Caine, and I perfered his film better. I do agree that the Oscars will honor either Nicholson or Day-Lewis come award night.

Mark Pfeiffer

Just saw The Quiet American the other day in advance of its opening here next week. (Also got the not-so-great treat of seeing reels 2 and 3 twice, once in the wrong order and once in the proper order.) I prefer this Noyce film over Rabbit-Proof Fence, which I thought was good but rather one note. Caine is terrific, as is Christopher Doyle's cinematography. Ironic that the political climate is what brought about it's delay since it is as relevant now as at any time. FWIW, I thought Caine's voiceovers gave us the richness of Greene's text, just like Ralph Fiennes' VOs in The End of the Affair.

Finally got to see Talk To Her, which I loved. Like Punch-Drunk Love, it's sort of a musical without the songs. More on this one at a later time...

Saw a true "alternative" film tonight. *Corpus Callosum is an experimental film that I haven't completely processed. There's no narrative, just images, usually people, being manipulated in all manners with the use of technology. Jonathan Rosenbaum named it the best film of 2002. Well, perhaps for hardcore cineastes or those well versed in experimental film... This probably had the most walkouts of any movie I've ever seen, not because it's offensive but because it's avant-garde and, well, an unusual viewing experience. More on this one later if the spirit moves me...

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