The Philadelphia Film Festival opens Thursday with the Philadelphia premiere of Like Crazy. Through November 3rd, over 150 features, shorts and documentaries will be projected in area theatres. Here’s a rundown of what to watch this weekend.
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 21
7:15 pm, Prince Music Theatre
The Artist Hysterically in love with cinema—and often hysterically funny—The Artist is a great comeback for silent movies. The film opens with the image of George Valentin (Dujardin) getting electro-shock treatment. He screams, but no sound is heard. “I won’t talk!” he says, according to the intertitles—and he doesn’t. Not to the baddies in the film-within-a-film, and not to the audience. The Artist is full of such clever double meanings and sight gags. Valentin is a silent film star who helps a plucky and charming young extra, Peppy Miller (Bejo) rise to fame. Alas, he hits bottom once talking pictures start to gain favor with audiences. The boy-meet-girl story may be as old as silent films themselves, but The Artist is rich in detail in every frame—the film boasts fabulous sound, sets, costumes, and art direction, as well as knowing homages to early Hollywood films and music. There are also many magical scenes—a priceless sequence has George hearing sound for the first time, or Peppy imaging a romance with George by wrapping herself in his coat. The expressive actors make The Artist sublime, with special mention going to George’s dog, (Uggy) who steals his every scene. The Artist is an utter delight.
7:55 pm, Ritz East
Shame Shame is about Brandon (Fassbender), a sex addict. However, Shame is not really about anything. Brandon is emotionally dead. He walks naked through his apartment—a sleek, sterile, soulless environment that reflects his empty character. Audiences get an eyeful of Fassbender—his flaccid penis, his muscular ass, his wiry body. But there is nothing else to him. Like the film, he is skin deep. Brandon has a lot of sex in Shame. He masturbates frequently; has sex with women of different ethnicities; with two women at once; and even gets a guy to suck him off. While Brandon has trouble with emotional intimacy, his sister Sissy (Mulligan) is emotionally needy. There’s a hint of incest, but it’s not developed enough, nor is it an excuse for his behavior—or hers. Shame does get interesting when Brandon goes out on an awkward date with Marianne (Beharie) a comely co-worker. Brandon’s inability to connect with Marianne leads to him debasing himself. Alas, Brandon’s downward spiral hardly seems compelling—perhaps because Fassbender plays him as a tightly wound cipher. Shame is all about getting Brandon to feel something. But despite the actors going at it with bed-crunching gusto, there is no emotional connection. It’s both clinical and boring.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 22
2:20 pm, Prince Music Theatre
Melancholia Lars von Trier’s highly stylized and unflinching meditation on the end of the world opens with an operatic prologue that introduces the principle characters in slow motion. Beautifully rendered, these tableaus literally look like moving paintings. The haunting images will be reflected and refracted upon over the course of this ominous film. Two sisters, Justine (Kirsten Dunst) and Clare (Charlotte Gainsbourg) grapple with their anxieties as a planet named Melancholia threatens to collide with earth. The first part of Melancholia features Justine and her new husband Michael (Alexander Skarsgard) on their wedding night. Getting stuck in their stretch limo on the way to the reception, the experience mirrors Justine’s sense of feeling like she is “trudging through gray wooly yarn;” It belies her innate, unshakable melancholia. She behaves spectacularly badly at her reception—leaving for extended periods of time to take a bath, and have sex with a guest. These surprising moments reveal both her need for control and her gnawing sense of despair. In contrast Part Two depicts the patient and caring Claire becoming unglued as Melancholia’s impact approaches. Melancholia uses the tense, difficult moments between these sisters—how they want to spend their last minutes on earth in very different fashions—to show von Trier’s attitudes towards/contempt for humans. His film will engage or detach viewers, on both a visual and emotional levels. With his handheld camerawork that goes in and out of focus—his intimate approach is as compelling as the story. But for some it may just add up to nothing. It is difficult to care about the characters, and the messages about the about the trappings of wealth, the rituals of marriage, and the ideas of happiness and depression may not resonate as the film builds to its magnificent climax. The performances by Dunst and Gainsbourg especially are impressive, and Charlotte Rampling has some fantastic moments as Dunst’s bitter mother. But in the end, the parts here may add up to be greater than the whole.
Also playing Sunday, October 23, at 7:05 pm, at the Ritz East
2:25 pm, Ritz Five
Hermano Found by the trash as a baby, Julio (Eliú Armas) is now a teenager and a gifted soccer player. But his skills on the pitch are at their best when his brother, Daniel (Fernando Moreno) is on his team. When tragedy strikes, Julio keeps a big secret from his brother that causes some rivalry between them. While the contrived plotting is both manipulative and predictable, Hermano feels authentic in its depiction of the characters’ lives and their desire (and desperation) to thrive. The film is certainly preachy in its pro-life messages—Julio is eternally grateful for his mother saving his life that he feel obligated to help Daniel not lose his prematurely to the gun and drug culture of the barrio. However, whenever the film has the brothers playing soccer against each other, or in an organized game, Hermano hits its stride. As the brothers, Armas gives a suitably impassioned performance, while the goodlooking Moreno is simply magnetic to watch.
2:45 pm, Ritz East
Gainsbourg An inventive biopic of the provocative, chain-smoking French singer/songwriter who continually reinvents himself, Gainsbourg hits its stride when it chronicles the highlights of Lucian Ginsberg a.k.a. Serge Gainsbourg’s career. These moments occur in the film’s second half, after he has achieved a measure of fame and success—his affair with Brigitte Bardot; his relationship with Jane Birkin; his controversial “parody” of the French National Anthem. The first half, which involve Lucian as a smart-mouthed kid who prefers to paint nude women, rather than perform his piano, are cute. But director Joann Sfar tries to be extra clever in presenting the psychology of its subject by creating a running dialogue between Gainsbourg and an oversized, alter ego that follows him around and keeps telling him what to do. It’s not that this conceit that is more Fellini than French, is a drawback—like some curious cabbage head imagery, it kind of works—but it fails to flesh out the points about Gainsbourg’s low self-image and his inspiration. Instead the film uses it to provide an easy way of glossing over a complex subject. Fans of Gainsbourg may appreciate this curious portrait, but viewers unfamiliar with the music sensation may wonder why he is so celebrated. In the title role, Eric Elmosnino looks, acts, and sings the part, but like Sfar, he fails to give Gainsbourg/Gainsbourg much heart.
5:45 pm, Ritz East
Le Havre While it looks like a series of Edward Hopper paintings, and feels like a homage to French wartime resistance films, Le Havre is a contemporary—and drolly deadpan—comedy. Marcel (Wilms) is a shoeshine man who hides Idrissa (Miguel), an African refugee, while his wife Arletty (Outinen) is hospitalized. From this basic premise, Aki Kaurismäki provides an absorbing and quirky character study. Whereas Marcel keeps a low profile—he literally looks down at people, often hoping to find someone whose shoes need cleaning—his status in the community rises when he cares for Idrissa. The baker, green grocer, and bartender all support his action, while Monet (Jean-Pierre Darroussin), a cop tries to find the young boy and deport him. With its carefully composed and artfully framed scenes, Le Havre is a minimalist delight. Kaurimäki consistently toys with audience’s expectations—he uses counter-intuitive music when Idrissa escapes, and includes a marvelous red herring. His unique style generates some laughs, as when Monet enters a bar with a pineapple, as well as moderate suspense during Marcel’s efforts to help Idrissa escape. Yet perhaps the greatest pleasure in Le Havre is watching Marcel, a man unlikely to do anything altruistic—Arletty even shines her husband’s shoes for him—become empowered.
Also playing Sunday, October 23 at 4:40 pm at International House
7:40 pm, Ritz East
A Dangerous Method While there is much naughty talk of masochism, masturbation, and unruly sexual desires, there is very little actual sex in A Dangerous Method. This elegant, eloquent (i.e., talky) film directed by David Cronenberg, was adapted by Christopher Hampton from his play. In chronicling Jung (Fassbender), Freud (Mortensen) and the origins of modern psychoanalysis, A Dangerous Method focuses on neuroses of a sexual origin. The emphasis may be on mind and body, but the film is rarely prurient, even with the inclusion of a few spanking scenes. Sabina Spielrein (Knightley) is a hysterical Russian woman who suffers from attacks—madness?—stemming from humiliation. Jung talks her through her problems, and they begin an unprofessional, physical affair. Jung also bonds with Freud over Sabina’s case—both in person and through epistolary exchanges. However, when the two doctors have a disagreement over behavior and treatment, Sabina tries to act as a go-between. If A Dangerous Method does not sound like stimulating stuff, in Cronenberg’s sure hands, it is. The filmmaker’s cool approach to the heady subject matter helps clearly delineate each character’s position, and create dramatic tension. Cronenberg also coaxes a brave, showy performance from Knightley and a tightly controlled one from Fassbender. The intelligence behind A Dangerous Method makes it sexy.
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 23
12 pm, Ritz East
Benda Balili! The infectious African rhythms of Staff Benda Bilili, a handful of Kinshasa street musicians—several of which are paraplegic—belie the fact that their songs are about sleeping on cardboard, or eating one day and going hungry the next. The talent and optimism of these performers is truly inspirational, and Benda Bilili! provides a terrific showcase for their determination and spirit. These “undiscovered virtuosos” were found by filmmakers Renaud Barret and Florent De La Tullaye who turned their cameras on them and introduced them to Roger, a young boy who plays the monochord, a vibrant sounding instrument that is comprised of a can, a stick and a guitar string. Tracing the band over the period of five years, Benda Bilili! comprises tragedy—a fire destroys the handicap shelter which postpones their recording session—and triumph, as when the band begins a European tour. In between, viewers get to know these men and get a glimpse into their remarkable lives. As Staff Benda Bilili sings about pulling through a rotten life, it is hard not to groove to both the music and the message.
5:30 pm, Rave
Pina Wim Wenders shot his doc about famed modern dancer/choreographer Pina Bausch in 3-D so audiences are given you-are-there seats to the synchronized, mesmerizing dancing. And watching the performers—who don’t have an ounce of body fat on them—bend and move to music ranging from classical to Latin—is a thing of beauty. But for those not enamored with Bausch’s work will find Pina to be a bore/chore as many of the sequences, such as the “Café Müller” routines, are not only lengthy, but also repetitive. Still, there are some dazzling set pieces—a sequence on an escalator, or dancers performing on stage flooded with water. But perhaps not enough of them. Wenders uses the 3-D effectively, as when a diorama become a stage, or during the brief interviews he conducts with many of the troupe’s dancers. But the actions mainly speak louder than the words as the members of her company describe Pina’s instructions to “keep searching.” The insights, about longing and yearning are few and far between, but the point of Pina is to celebrate the artist’s work. Watching the express themselves physically on the top of a mountain or on the streets of Wuppertal, Germany, will probably be sufficient for Bausch’s fans.
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Gary Kramer
