There are a handful of similarities between Atom Egoyan's acclaimed The Sweet Hereafter (1997) and Gaby Della's applause-worthy Angels Crest. Both explore the aftermath of children's deaths in self-contained communities, the difference being in the number of tiny coffins: a busload vs. one. Both are also based on well-received novels: the former by the renowned Russell Banks, the latter by the far less known Leslie Schwartz. Additionally, both are extremely well directed and showcase a first-rate cast.
God bless rich, talented parents, for without them, a whole bunch of spoiled, solipsistic kids with credit cards for brains might be holding up corner candy stores instead of making innocuous films that no one really wants to watch other than the relatives of everyone involved.
When you start viewing the selections of a film festival, the initial few will definitely color your expectations for the rest. What were the curators thinking? you might just ponder,
Happily, the first offering of this year's Tribeca Film Festival that I screened was Pierre Thoretton's superb documentary on the designer Yves Saint Laurent, L'Amour Fou, a true must-see if you adore fashion, interior design, the Sixties and Seventies, travel, and an exploration of depressed genius with guest appearances by Andy Warhol and Mick Jagger.
American: The Bill Hicks Story
Some documentaries transform their subject into a sculpted statue; others bring them to life. American: The Bill Hicks Story is certainly the latter, digging through personal photos, family interviews, and previously unseen footage to resurrect one of America's most belatedly appreciated national treasures of stand-up comedy.
Is there a proper way to watch a Holocaust documentary?
There must be. Because while forking down a Hot Pockets Cheese Stuffed Crust Three Cheese Pizza and swigging a can of Coca-Cola Zero as images of the starving residents of the Warsaw Ghetto traipsed across my computer screen, I started feeling rather vile. Rather inappropriate.
Oh, my God! I was just about to rip apart Cracks when I started inquiring into the novel it's based upon. Suddenly, I went, "That author's name seems awfully familiar."
Yes, Sheila Kohler, when she was a brunette, was my creative writing teacher, and according to several reviews of her novels, she's done quite well for herself after she recovered from grading my short stories. Note the acclaim for Becoming Jane Eyre.
In recent decades there have been a handful of times we've seen a film and known immediately a master is at work here. Take the early works of Almodovar, Aronofsky, Francois Ozon, and Paul Thomas Anderson, for example.
On these occasions, on the screen, there's something that strikes us immediately. A style we've never witnessed before. A wit. An undeniable intelligence. We find ourselves laughing at a joke that's not a retread from a dozen mall comedies of the previous year. Or we smile or shiver upon recognizing a truth about the characters we see interacting before us, an honesty exposing our own little secrets that we've seldom shared aloud.
This surprise Golden Globe winner for Best Foreign Film spotlights what a delightful haven Denmark is for children with homicidal tendencies. A young boy can beat up another with a bicycle pump, blow up vans, and punch his father in the stomach, and the youth will be completely forgiven and allowed to stay in school. And in the end, he will transform into a loving lad, of course.
Moral: Coddle the potential cutthroat in your life and he'll become a pussycat, unlike in real life where bastards become bigger bastards.
There are films about slumber such as Andy Warhol's Sleep (currently screening at MoMA). And there are movies focusing on sleep's byproduct, dreams: confusingly manipulated ones such as in Inception or brutally fatal ones as in the Nightmare on Elm Street series. Then there are the features that you wished you had slept through such as You, Me and Dupree, the second half of Kaboom, and every work ever directed by Thailand's Apichatpong Weerasethakul.
Are you ready for what some are calling the very first worldwide, all-French Internet movie gala, My French Film Festival?
Yes, from January 14 until January 29th, for less than $20, you'll be able to screen and vote on the merits of twenty brand new Gallic features and shorts on your iPad or what have you. Here's a dream come true for Roger-Ebert wannabes and the more cultured among us. If you fit the bill, get your thumbs in shape and your Brie room temperature.