La stanza della fotografia (2000)

La stanza della fotografia (2000) is an Italian made-for-tv film.  I wanted to see it, because it stars Cinzia Monreale.

La stanza opens in Rome where an older man is driving to meet his lover.  He arrives at his lover’s flat and is immediately gunned down in a professional hit.  Cut to Tunisia and Silvia (Lea Karen Gramsdorff) and her husband, Marco (Roberto Farnesi).  A lawyer visits the couple and tells them that Silvia’s father has been murdered.  It appears that it was the work of the mafia, and he recommends Silvia to not return to Rome.  Silvia and Marco conduct tourist tours for a living and are in the middle of a very unhappy marriage—Marco is extremely abusive towards Silvia.  Cut to Denise (Monreale) whose husband attempts to rape her in the kitchen.  Denise kicks him in his groin and escapes.  Her husband calls some thugs to go and beat upon her.  Denise is confronted by three thugs and is about to get raped again when Silvia and Marco’s tour bus happens upon them.  Marco scares off the thugs, and Silvia offers solace to Denise.  The two women feel a strong bond and promise to see each other again.  One evening, Marco becomes angry and locks Silvia outside in a shed.  The following morning she flees to the home of Denise and her husband.  They tell her that she can stay.  When Silvia returns to her home to gather some things, Denise accompanies her.  When Marco becomes violent again, Denise shoots him.  She says it was an accident, as the two ladies dispose of his body…

I have had a huge crush on Cinzia Monreale ever since I first saw her in Lucio Fulci’s The Beyond (1981).  I will see anything that in which she appears.  Despite the fact that her character really only begins her story arc about midway through La stanza, Monreale is the true attraction of the film.  Her opening scene is sleazy—not necessarily because it is depicting an attempted rape, but rather in how it depicts it:  it is shot in the same manner as a typical, consensual sex scene, despite it being a scene of violence.  It is also an opportunity for Monreale to provide nudity.  Tunisia appears to be a hot country, and this affords an opportunity for its leading ladies to don sundresses and short shorts.  Monreale is enchanting in a bikini.  I enjoyed all of this very much.  However, my attention span is painfully short, and these scenes soon became repetitive.  I was forced to confront the story of La stanza.

While the Italian Wiki entry of La stanza credits Sergio Martino as the producer of the film, I recall seeing only his brother’s name, Luciano, in the credits as producer (he also is credited with the story.).  The director is Antonio Bonifacio.  The crew of La stanza want to fashion their production as a twist on Diabolique (Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1955); and the story is constructed painfully transparent in its mystery.  Silvia begins to have visions of Marco, supposed to be dead, around the city.  She faints and passes out, and Silvia tells her only confidante, Denise, that she is seeing Marco.  Denise begins giving her pills to help her stress and allow her to rest.  The key scene, about midway through the film that undoes the mystery, is a ridiculously contrived one:  Denise tells Silvia that she has to go to the Italian consulate to renew her visa and will be gone most of the afternoon.  She goes.  The viewer is treated to a scene of Denise calling Silvia from the consulate.  Silvia is attacked by a man whom she believes is Marco and she ends up killing him.  It is not Marco but Denise’s husband.  Doesn’t that trip to the consulate seem a little too convenient?

I possess an average intelligence; apply only rudimentary logic while watching mysteries; and have a high tolerance for ineptitude.  Having admitted this, La stanza della fotografia bored me with its tired story and execution.  The photography and performances are quite good, with especial mention, of course, to Monreale.  However, the world in which these characters populate is far from alluring.  Silvia is being set-up to take a fall—this much is obvious.  From the first act, it is obvious why she is.  The only question remaining is:  why am I watching this?  Cinzia Monreale.  La stanza is recommended only for her die-hard fans.

Eyes Behind the Wall (L’occhio dietro la parete) (1977)

Eyes Behind the Wall (L’occhio dietro la parete) (1977) is a weird Italian film. A giallo?  No.  However, the opening scene certainly suggests so.  A young man (John Phillip Law) shares a train car with an attractive young woman.  His eyes are drawn to her exposed legs, and he becomes aroused while watching her cross and uncross her legs.  His arousal prompts him to strangle the woman (and presumably, because it is not shown) and rape her.  Cut to attractive Olga (Olga Bisera) in a wealthy manor.  She joins Ivano (Fernando Rey) for dinner.  Discussion ensues about their new tenant, as they house a rental cottage on their property.  Ivano has been spying on his new tenant, named Arturo (Law), and is fascinated by his behavior.  Arturo spends all of his days alone listening to only classical and modern, progressive music.  He reads heady tomes, such as major philosophical and science works.  Ivano knows little about him after observation.  Where does he go when he leaves?  How does he produce income?  Olga sees Ivano’s spying as an intrusion upon someone’s private space but she is indulgent of his behavior:  Ivano is a writer, disabled and unable to walk.  He feels unable to move about in polite society to gather experiences to inform his writing.  So Ivano is reduced to spying.  Ivano is so into spying that he has installed a state-of-the-art monitoring device which allows him to view Arturo in his flat with complete discretion.  After dinner, Olga and Ivano go to spy upon Arturo in his apartment.  When Arturo sheds his clothes and engages in his exercises, Ivano prompts Olga to watch.  The old man strokes young Olga while she watches.  After their viewing session, Ivano suggests that Olga follow Arturo when he leaves at night and learn what he does.  Olga reluctantly agrees…

Eyes strives to elevate itself beyond mere sensationalism and cast a drama within the milieu a generation questioning its sexual mores and taboos.  (Although, in the end, I think director and writer Giuliano Petrelli was struggling to balance the sensationalism and his ideals.)  Law’s character, Arturo, is presented as a curious but seriously confused individual (hence, the opening scene).  He seeks solace and knowledge in books, but when confronted with the real world and his emotions, he shuts down.  For example, on the trolley Arturo gets cruised by a dude who invites him to a nightclub for dancing.  Arturo doesn’t participate in the dancing—when an attractive young woman sheds her clothes on the dance floor, it is a little too much for him.  The guy invites himself to Arturo’s flat, and Arturo doesn’t understand his flirty behavior.  (I have to admit that I laughed quite a bit when Arturo was getting buggered and screaming bloody murder).  Eventually, Ivano prods Olga to arrange a meeting with Arturo and get to know him.  She brings Arturo the lease to sign and invites him out for the day.  Arturo is able talk politics and philosophy, but he is as socially-awkward as Travis Bickle when it comes to articulating his feelings.  Olga seduces him that evening in his flat (much to the chagrin of Ivano taking in all of the details via his spy-scope):  Arturo tries to initiate sex by anal penetration, but Olga, like a consoling mother, tells him no and takes over the reins in the lovemaking.  Olga and Arturo also have unique sexual identities vis-à-vis each other, and even their butler, Ottavio (José Quaglio) has his own secret sexual hang-ups and quirks which director Petrelli thinks is worth exploring with some sensitivity.

The premise of Eyes is too incredulous to be taken seriously while simultaneously, the film is too realistic to be arty.  At its end, Eyes is too heady—more anthropology than cinema.  The end result is an average film.  However, beyond its artistic approach to the subject matter, Eyes is entertaining.  There is enough mystery to each character to make viewing compelling.  Fernando Rey is an amazing actor and is able to be quite captivating as Ivano, despite his character really never leaving his study or the dining room.  Beautiful Olga Bisera plays the perfect accompaniment as the curious female to John Phillip Law’s shy Arturo.  The sensational elements of Eyes never take over, but they become focal when on display.  In the end, erotic filmmakers, like Tinto Brass with La chiave (1983), for example, make more compelling films, both artistically and intellectually, when dealing with this subject matter.

The Bloodsucker Leads the Dance (La sanguisuga conduce la danza) (1975)

In turn-of-the-twentieth-century Ireland, Count Richard Marnack (Giacomo Rossi-Stuart) visits the local theatre and invites its acting troupe to his island/castle home.  The Count is quite taken with ingénue, Evelyn (Patrizia de Rossi), who bears a striking resemblance to his wife, now missing some years.  The rest of the troupe, brazen Cora (Krista Nell), lovers Rosalind (Marzia Damon) and Penny (Lidia Olizzi), and diminutive stage hand, Samuel (Leo Valeriano) accompany the Count and Evelyn to the castle, as their theatre is closing.  Upon arrival at the castle, the group is greeted by stern and comely, Sybil (Femi Benussi), the housekeeper, the holier-than-thou butler, Jeffrey (Mario de Rosa), and lecherous groundskeeper Gregory (Luciano Pigozzi).  None of the latter three are particularly thrilled that the Count has brought guests.  A lavish dinner is prepared, and the Count tells a ghoulish ghost story:  both his grandfather and his father murdered each’s respective lover by beheading each with an ornate dagger, only to then after the act, jump from the top of the castle to his death in the sea.  The dagger is still in the house, and the Count wants to take Evelyn as his new wife.  Spooky.

The Bloodsucker Leads the Dance (La sanguisuga conduce la danza) (1975) feels like it was made by children who have discovered several unique facets of the human psyche and are eager to tell the world about them: 1) men are ineffectual and unnecessary; 2) women have sexual desires and desire to act upon them; and 3) lesbianism actually exists and is awesome.  If the ancient pharaohs made these findings and had inscribed them with detailed hieroglyphics, then maybe they would be provocative.  From the first act of Bloodsucker and from my synopsis above, one would intuitively think that the Count’s story and his bourgeoning relationship with Evelyn would be foreshadowing of the story to come.  Wrong. 

Poor Samuel is the biggest pussy.  The first act devotes itself to a rather lengthy expositional sequence where Samuel visits each of the troupe’s actresses:  Cora asks Samuel to tie her corset, but he cannot do so, because he is distracted by her exposed breasts.  The lovers Rosalind and Penny want to be left alone for love-making but are disturbed by the ogling of Samuel.  Finally, Samuel does nothing but whine and bitch to Evelyn that they should not go to the castle, because he is afraid.  Samuel does little more than bitch and moan after arrival to the castle.  After their first breakfast, Cora is feeling particularly randy and wants a man.  She doesn’t even factor Samuel into her decision.  (The actor’s diminutive stature only magnifies his personality.)  Prior to the discovery of the first victim of Bloodsucker (it is a horror film, by the way), a precious scene plays:  Rosalind and Penny are fucking.  The cute young maid enters their bedroom with a pitcher of water.  She stares at the lovers for an inappropriate amount of time before clearing her throat and announcing she has brought their water.  Rosalind removes her lips from Penny’s nipple to tell the maid thank you and that she should leave.  Back in the maid’s chambers, where she shares a room with the other cute young maid, she stares at herself topless in the mirror.  The other maid asks what she is doing.  She says that she saw two of the lady guests making love in their bedroom.  “How is that?” The other asks.  “But they are two women.”  The maid confirms what she saw is true and asks her chamber mate if she thinks her breasts are beautiful.  Yes, she replies.  Very beautiful. 

Cora finds the most desirable man on the island, save the Count, in a fishing hut and has a shag.  At dusk, her head is found in the courtyard, and the dagger is missing.  Is anyone going to do anything about it? Not really.  Conveniently, a storm rises and keeps the island isolated.  The heads of ladies keep popping up in the second act of Bloodsucker.  The Count can only throw up his hands, and Evelyn can only lose her shit.  The pious butler, Jeffrey, thinks the murders are the work of the punishing hands of God, and angry Sybil seems oddly satisfied.

Bloodsucker Leads the Dance is directed by Alfredo Rizzo and has this odd antiquated feel to it, like the cinema of Amando de Ossorio.  Rizzo, who was in his seventies when he filmed Bloodsucker, seems tripped out at the sexual mores of the young people of his time and was eager and child-like to capture it.  He was also not well-versed in the tropes of modern horror:  all of the killings occur off-screen; the foreshadowing leads nowhere; and Bloodsucker incredulously yet tidily resolves itself with an Agatha-Christie-esque suspect confrontation scene at the end.  The cinema of Amando de Ossorio was odd and antiquated, like Tombs of the Blind Dead (1971), in a surreal, often unintentionally hilarious, atmospheric way.  Bloodsucker just comes off as weird.  The pastel lighting, with an abundance of natural light, makes the nudity and sex, appropriately and ironically, softcore and the rest of the dramatic action, lithe and rather inconsequential.  At any moment in the film, Bloodsucker feels as if it could just stop and not go on at all.  The English dubbing lacks any of the familiar voices of Italian cinema of the period, and it, too, sets the film aside, kind of casting it as foreign and theatrical.  Three lovely beauties of the genre, Benussi, de Rossi, and Nell, each provide nudity in Bloodsucker, and clearly this inclusion was a marketable asset of the film.  Rizzo and company, however, failed to note that each was a competent and charismatic actress, two of whom were underutilized.  Benussi often just stares at the characters like a stern matron while de Rossi really only animates her “flabbergasted” face.  Nell gets to have fun as the sexually adventurous Cora, but Bloodsucker is really only leading her character to its (relatively) lengthy fuck scene and later to her death scene.  Stuart phones in his role, and I do not blame him as his character really has no weight. 

All criticism aside, Bloodsucker Leads the Dance is an old, European genre production with the inherent charms of the production, like authentic settings, cool music, and beautiful actresses.  The lack of irony and the lack of a compelling story or atmosphere will see Bloodsucker viewers seeking de Ossorio cinema for remedies.

The Hateful Eight (2015)

I have never reviewed a Quentin Tarantino film on Quiet Cool, despite being a long-time fan of his work.  I saw Reservoir Dogs (1992) three times during its original theatrical run; Pulp Fiction (1994) five times; Jackie Brown (1997) three times; and Kill Bill Vols. 1 & 2 (2003, 2004, respectively) once each.  I saw the QT-penned True Romance (1993) and From Dusk Till Dawn (1996) each three times, while seeing Natural Born Killers (1994), where QT receives only a story credit, three times also.  His subsequent three directorial efforts, Death Proof (2007), Inglourious Basterds (2009), and Django Unchained (2012), I saw each on home video for the first time.  While I have seen Death Proof many times, I have only seen Basterds and Django, once each.  It was obvious with QT’s first three films as a director, especially Pulp Fiction, that he was an important American filmmaker.  I even thought that (at least up until Death Proof) QT was the only American filmmaker whose work was innovative and progressive.  His only real contemporaries were working abroad—Lars Von Trier, Wong kar-wai, Kim ki-duk, Takashi Miike, Emir Kusturica, and Pedro Almodovar, for example.  With Death Proof, QT saw a critical and commercial failure, and it ended a period in his career.  (For what it is worth, I think Death Proof is amazing and is definitely the most “French” film that QT has directed.)  With Basterds and Django, QT appeared a more mature and more conservative filmmaker, one who has definitely lost his edge, however.  This is evident with the appearance of actor Christoph Waltz whose characterizations as Hans Landa and Dr. Schultz (in Basterds and Django, respectively) were mirror images of the other.  QT imbued both characters with a special foreknowledge of events in the story.  Landa knew most everything ahead of time in Basterds—in the opening scene, he knew the owner of the house was hiding Jews (and was taking pleasure watching the owner attempt to maintain his composure), and, also for example, he knew Brad Pitt’s character wasn’t Italian in the final act (and again, took pleasure in watching Pitt painfully annunciate his fake name.)  In Django, for example, Dr. Schultz shoots the sheriff and then makes his big reveal when he is confronted.  This foreknowledge that Waltz’s characters hold becomes so repetitious that it begins to feel like a gimmick.  (Waltz won two Academy Awards for these performances, so obviously the Academy thinks these characterizations and performances are special.  What do I know?)  Finally, Basterds was the first time in the history of viewing QT’s cinema that I actually successfully predicted what would happen twice; and Django had the most tired scene in all of QT’s filmography—an extended joke about why there is not enough sacks to make masks for a lynching.  In any case, I have authored this paragraph prior to seeing The Hateful Eight (2015), so here goes an open mind…

Bounty Hunter John Ruth (Kurt Russell) is escorting his $10K bounty, Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh) via horse-drawn carriage to Red Rock, Wyoming with an impending blizzard on the horizon.  En route, they meet a fellow bounty hunter, Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson), stranded on the road with three corpses in tow.  They agree, after some debate, to travel together to Red Rock.  They pick up one more lone soul on the road, Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins), who claims that he is going to Red Rock to become its new sheriff.  With the blizzard quickly approaching, the group holes up at Minnie’s Haberdashery and encounter a Mexican named Bob (Demián Bichir) who is running the locale in the stead of Minnie, allegedly away visiting relatives.  Inside is Englishman, Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth), who claims to be the Hangman at Red Rock, Joe Gage (Michael Madsen), a traveler in Mobray’s stagecoach, and an old Confederate general, Sandy Smithers (Bruce Dern).  It immediately appears that the group will have to spend two to three days together in the small locale to weather the storm.  However, it is also immediately apparent that none really trust the other, and cabin fever is about to set in…

The Hateful Eight has to be Tarantino’s weirdest film to date.  To me, that’s a good thing.  I expected this film to be traditional like Basterds and Django, but Tarantino really eschews all audience expectations with this one.  Interesting to note, I perused the IMDb via my smartphone after viewing the film, and in their Trivia section for this film, John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982) was a major influence on Tarantino during his writing of the screenplay.  I actually thought during the opening twenty minutes or so, Hateful Eight was going to play out like Howard Hawks’ Rio Bravo (1959) which inspired John Carpenter to make Assault on Precinct 13 (1976).

The pacing of The Hateful Eight, at a runtime of nearly three hours, is the divisive factor among audience members.  The gruesome violence in the film, of which there is quite a bit, will not deter anyone—it’s commonplace in cinema, now.  (Although Tarantino’s violence has now reached the point of absurdity.  It’s almost as if he views the human body as one big balloon filled with blood that spews geysers when punctured).  Even the film’s more audacious scenes, like Major Warren’s narrative about how he killed General Smithers’s son, are old hat for Tarantino—he’s already filmed a forced homosexual, sexual act with interracial partners before, for example.   With an almost glacial pace, Tarantino forces his viewers to figuratively rub shoulders with his characters during the film’s runtime while its characters very uncomfortably rub shoulders together before an inevitable showdown.

The triumph of The Hateful Eight, like Death Proof, is its subversion.  From the outset of when Samuel Jackson and Kurt Russell’s characters first meet, the tension and the suspicion between the two is apparent.  (The tension between the members of the two sides of the Civil War only heighten the immediate tension between the characters.)  The film’s dialogue (Tarantino’s most lauded attribute) is cryptic.  For example, Mobray gives a speech in the first act about how the act of hanging represents justice in civilized society as opposed to a posse killing a wanted criminal after hunting him down.  Intuitively, one would think that his speech is clever character exposition.  (It is.)  His speech also plays out in powerful irony in the final scene of the film, its resonance really felt after you exit the theatre.  The best scene with the use of dialogue, which really represents the film’s ethos, is when Daisy sings a song while playing the guitar.  The first verse of the song is rather sweet and poetic.  Ruth asks Daisy to sing another verse, and the second one is amazing—it prompts Ruth to snatch the guitar out of her hand and smash it to bits.

Visually, The Hateful Eight has a lot of stuff hidden in its compositions, and when the compositions aren’t being crafty their showing their stunning 70mm ability.  (Robert Richardson gets an Oscar nomination for his cinematography.)  There is a bleakness and hopelessness to Westerns filmed in the snow, like Sergio Corbucci’s masterful Il grande silenzio (The Great Silence) (1968), and The Hateful Eight is able to replicate those sentiments.  Minnie’s Haberdashery looks like a meticulously composed trap for its inhabitants.  The wilderness is perfectly captured.

The Hateful Eight is a weird film.  A truly dark comedy about brutal subjects like murder, the Bounty trade, the Civil War, and plain-old human existence.  All the performances are tops with especial note to Jackson who plays the lead in the film.  He plays a complex character who constantly reveals another side to the audience as the film plays out.  The humor is beyond dark—blowing off someone’s head isn’t funny, and it is even less funny to particular characters when a twelve-thousand-dollar bounty depended on its identity.  Leigh receives an Oscar nomination for her portrayal as Daisy, and she’s incredible—she looks like such a bad-ass in the film, a proper villain.  (I’m a true fanboy for Leigh.  She is one of my favorite actresses, and I love nearly everything she does.  Like most guys, I fell in love with her when I first saw Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982).)  I think what I especially love about The Hateful Eight, although I am still digesting it, is that Tarantino is not going to garner any new fans with this film.  This type of daring and creativity is what I long for in cinema.  Quentin Tarantino is officially back on my radar.

The twelve days of Christmas (or at least the first seven) and On-Demand Viewing

Christmas was pretty chill this year.  My two siblings spent Christmas with the family of each’s respective significant other which left me as the sole child at my parents’ house.  My Mom didn’t feel the compulsion to cook anything elaborate, and my father worked most mornings that week.  It was a relaxed affair for all involved and was one of the better Christmas’s in a very long time.  I spent my mornings as an early-riser and filled the a.m.’s with movies from various On-Demand services.  This post will serve as both a chronicle of those viewings and as a wrap-up for 2015 at Quiet Cool. 

Judy (2014)

I wasn’t the biggest fan of Emanuele De Santi’s Adam Chaplin (2011)—a superhero gore film that moved at a furious pace, well-suited alongside the Troma classics of the 80s.  His follow-up film, Judy, is a hundred-and-eighty degree turn.  A whacked-out group of street performers with a serious philosophy of brutality live on the periphery of the city.  A beautiful blonde woman loses her way in the city and stops her car in a secluded area to use her cell phone.  The matriarch of the whacked-out street performers approaches her car and begs for some money.  The beautiful blonde refuses to give her money and even goes so far to pull her pistol on the woman for her to leave her alone.  Back at her flat, the beautiful blonde woman attends to her dog, Judy, and the film, subsequently, never leaves this location.  The blonde soon loses track of Judy, and distraught, she goes looking.  As she explores her flat and the close proximity, the blonde slowly grows to realize that someone is fucking with her.  Judy is more of an interesting experiment than a fully satisfying film and well worth a viewing (as the initial one will hold most of its power).

Applesauce (2015)

I am a huge fan of Richard’s Wedding (2012) and really enjoyed Summer of Blood (2014).  Director, writer, and actor, Onur Tukel is easily one of the most interesting currently working in American independent film.  Applesauce is his best film yet.  Tukel plays Ron who listens to shock jock, Stevie Bricks (Dylan Baker) on the radio.  Bricks has a call-in segment once a week where he asks his listeners to relate the worst things that they have ever done.  Ron can’t tell his story, because his wife, Nicki (Trieste Kelly Dunn) summons him away to a restaurant with friends, Les (Max Casella) and his wife, Kate (Jennifer Prediger).  Over dinner, Ron tells the story of the worst thing he’s ever done:  in college, he got into a fight at a frat party during which he slammed the door upon the fingers of his combatant, severing them completely.  Ron never knew what happened to the guy.  Ron begins to receive body parts in conspicuous locations throughout the film.  Les and Kate, motivated by Ron’s story, relate to each other each’s worst deed.  Les is crushed when he learns Kate’s story.  Each character’s revelations is the catalyst for each’s dramatic action, which all unfold in rather darkly humorous fashion.  A very witty and entertaining film.

Christmas, Again (2014)

Kentucker Audley plays Noel who comes from upstate New York once a year down to Brooklyn to plant his camper and sell Christmas trees and wreaths to the city folk.  He’s depressed this year, as it is apparent he is no longer with the woman he loves.  Late one evening, he sees a young woman passed out on a park bench.  He brings her into his camper away from the freezing cold.  She awakens the following morning and flees, embarrassed.  She later visits Noel with a kind gesture, and near the conclusion of Christmas, Again she spends Christmas Eve with him.  Audley really excels at playing shy, mumbling characters, and over the course of the film, the viewer accompanies him as he interacts with myriad folks who come looking for a Christmas tree.  A very good, character-driven film about a spiritual journey.

Fighting Fish (2010)

David (Val Emmich) is a sensitive, would-be writer who lives in upstate New York, forced to care for his two younger half-siblings while his mother recuperates in a hospital for her depression.  David is resentful of his burdens.  His wayward sister, Alice (Anna Moore), shows at the house for a visit, and she ignites strong emotions in him.  David meets a pretty girl at the pet shop where works named Chris (Halley Feiffer).  Fighting Fish then plays out the dilemma of David indulging his new romantic feelings for Chris (and their freedom) or rekindling his romantic feelings for Alice (and experiencing all its familiar heartaches).  Fighting Fish would be good, if the writer/director, Annette Apitz, had more a command of dramatic confrontation.  Scenes which should be emotionally-charged are allowed to fizzle, and she doesn’t use the pacing of the film to build any real energy or intensity.  Apitz has a fondness for the montage or long, single shot whereupon an indie-rock song plays over.  There are too many of these scenes, and they eventually become laughable.  There are few precious scenes in Fighting Fish to make it worth seeing but these scenes hardly make it memorable.

The Attic (2007)

Elisabeth Moss is currently one of my favorite actresses, so her inclusion as the star of The Attic (2007), directed by Mary Lambert of Pet Sematary (1989) fame, made this one a must-see.  Moss plays Emma, an agoraphobic, who lives with her mother and father (Catherine Mary Stewart and John Savage, respectively) and her mentally-disabled brother, Frankie (Tom Malloy).  They moved into an old home which houses an odd history of the supernatural bent.  Emma’s fragile mental condition combined with the supernatural proceedings around the house in short course cause a madness within her…or not.  There may really be ghosts fucking with her, but no one believes her.  The Attic is a total misfire.  Its pace is glacial.  Lambert’s direction is pedestrian:  for example, one of the strongest tools of a filmmaker is her use of lighting.  Lambert forgoes any interesting use of lights and shadows.  The entire film is lit for coverage and only exacerbates the boringness of the film.  Catherine Mary Stewart, a talented actress, is reduced to scenery.  The screenplay is born of clichés from The Turn of the Screw.  Moss’s performance is the sole attraction, and The Attic is only recommended for her die-hard fans.

Homemakers (2014)

I loved Homemakers.  Rachel McKeon gives a Parker Posey/Greta Gerwig-esque performance as Irene, an aimless and passionate lead singer of a shitty punk band in Austin, Texas.  Her off-the-wall antics prompt her bandmates to kick her out, and erstwhile, Irene learns that her grandfather devised his dilapidated home in Pittsburgh to her.  She makes the journey to see the property and hooks up with a distant cousin named Cam (Jack Culbertson), who shares her penchant for hard drinking and inane fun.  Irene enlists Cam to “fix up” the house, which initially amounts to them getting drunk and fucking it up to Irene and Cam making it into a home, a place where they both feel comfortable.  Irene’s girlfriend and former bandmate, Kicky (Molly Carlisle) visits Irene in Pittsburgh to persuade her to come back to Austin (it appears a record label will not sign them without Irene).  Irene must choose between the two locations.  It’s fairly easy to glean from my brief synopsis where this indie comedy is coming from.  McKeon as Irene is amazingly captivating, and Homemakers is a wonderful independent film.

A Horrible Way to Die (2010)

I wasn’t a fan of director Adam Wingard’s Home Sick (2007) nor was I a fan of his You’re Next (2011).  However, there is a lot to like within both films.  A Horrible Way to Die is an earlier collaboration of Wingard with writer Simon Barrett and stars three of my favorite indie actors, A.J. Bowen, Amy Seimetz (also a fave director), and Joe Swanberg (also a fave director).  A Horrible Way to Die is my favorite film now from Wingard.  A.J. Bowen plays a notorious serial killer, named Garrick Turrell, who escapes from custody and is heading towards the home of his girlfriend, Sarah (Seimetz) (presumably, this element is not explicit in the story).  Sarah has relocated and has entered AA with a few months sobriety.  She meets a kind fellow from her home group, Kevin (Swanberg) and she begins an awkward but loving romance with him.  There is a real sense of dread and melancholy throughout A Horrible Way to Die as Bowen’s and Seimetz’s storylines lead to convergence.  Even the flashback sequences, which show Bowen’s and Seimetz’s relationship are emotional and tension-filled.  Wingard’s visuals are tops.  Barrett’s screenplay is excellent, and he has blossomed into a fine writer.  His story, “Dead Air,” an audio drama produced by Larry Fessenden and Glen McQuaid’s Glass Eye Pix in season two of Tales From Beyond the Pale is a personal favorite.  Bowen, Seimetz, and Swanberg all give outstanding performances.  I cannot wait for what these peeps do next.

Alps (2011)

Alps is Yorgos Lanthimos’s follow-up to Dogtooth (2009).  If Lanthimos was not yet a major world filmmaker, then with Alps he is.  A group of four people, a nurse (Angeliki Papoulia), an ambulance driver (Aris Servetalis), a gymnast (Ariane Labed) and her coach (Johnny Vekris), come together to provide services to the loved ones of the recently deceased—one of the four will act as a substitute for the deceased loved one to aid in the grieving transitional process for the family.  They name their group after the titular mountain range.  The nurse attends to the death of a young tennis player and offers her services to her parents.  She does this without the knowledge of the group.  As Alps progresses, it becomes less and less clear as to what are the genuine motives of the group members.  For example, is the man living with the nurse actually her father?  Why is the nurse offering to be a substitute for a family without telling her compatriots?  A beautiful and absurd film.

Sidewalks of New York (2001)

I am a huge fan of Edward Burns, as an actor and director.  I tend to like all of this films, even the uneven ones.  I missed Sidewalks of New York during its original theatrical run.  I do remember his film being given a delayed release, because of the 9/11 terrorist attacks.  Unfortunately, Sidewalks ranks as one of my least favorites from Burns.  Burns shoots his film as a faux documentary, focusing on six New Yorkers of various ages talking about dating and relationships in New York City.  Stanley Tucci plays the husband of Heather Graham who is having an affair with a young waitress, played by Brittany Murphy.  Edward Burns plays a recently single television executive who begins dating again.  He has a fledgling relationship with Rosario Dawson.  My main complaint with Sidewalks is that there is too much of Tucci’s character.  It is not that his performance is poor, but rather, Tucci’s character is extremely repellent.  Almost of all of Graham and Murphy’s scene involve Tucci.  Dawson is given relatively little screen time.  The most endearing relationship of the film is between Graham and Burns, but it only really begins in the final act.  A film of missteps.

The Deep Dark (2015)

The plot synopsis of The Deep Dark sounds as if it would be right up my alley:  a sculptor (Sean McGrath) who makes mobiles is having a difficult time selling any of his artwork.  Desperate, he call his successful uncle who offers him a month’s let of flat that he can use as a workshop.  Inside of the dilapidated flat, the young sculptor discovers a small hole in the wall that begins feeding him written messages.  The hole soon begins speaking to him in a female voice, promising to help make him successful.  The hole releases a fleshy mass in the shape of a ball which he attaches to his mobile.  The hole produces several of these.  His art captures the eye of the most important art dealer in town and has a very interesting effect upon all who view it.  In return, the hole in the wall demands to have an intimate relationship with the sculptor.  The Deep Dark could have been a truly weird piece of alternative cinema, but it is way too conservative and traditional to be entertaining.  At the midpoint in the film, the director chooses to make the burgeoning relationship between the art dealer and the sculptor focal, and this choice is far from appealing.

The Big Bad (2011)

I started to zone out towards the end of The Big Bad, so any real criticism of it is probably unfair.  Another interesting premise and opening act:  a young woman camps out all day inside of a bar, desperate to get the attention of an excitable bar patron.  Eventually the young woman forms a bond with the excitable young woman.  She reveals to her that she is looking for someone, and this same person may have infected others.  The excitable young woman then begins to turn monstrous, and the film reveals that the young woman is chasing a werewolf conspiracy towards a group that killed her loved ones.   The filmmakers made some interesting choices in telling their story, but The Big Bad never really captured my attention very much.

Uptown (2009)

Ben (Chris Riquinha) contacts Isabel (Meissa Hampton) via email in an attempt to cast her in his new independent film.  They exchange flirty emails and agree to meet for a date.  Uptown begins as they meet for that date at a restaurant.  After dinner, Isabel tells Ben that she is married.  Throwing caution into the wind, Ben implicitly agrees to continue the date, and they spend the city walking around the city and talking.  Their relationship remains platonic as they agree to meet each other some more, and they begin to have strong romantic feelings towards each other.  Eventually, they have to confront each other about how they really feel.  Uptown is the essence of “mumblecore” and is based around strong characters and a lot of conversation.  The premise of the film is fairly incredulous; but if you are able to buy into it, then Uptown is a satisfying alternative to traditional romantic cinema.

Ritual (2013)

I didn’t like Mickey Keating’s Pod (2015), but I greatly admired its style:  it’s a film that begins slowly in building its tension and escalates increasingly as the film progresses.  Keating’s previous film Ritual adopts the same style and it’s a better film.  A young woman, Lovely (Lisa Marie Summerscales) calls her estranged husband, Tom (Dean Cates), in the middle of the night to a secluded motel.  When he arrives, Lovely reveals in her hotel room that she has killed a man, claiming it was self-defense to rape.  Tom and Lovely are flustered and struggle to do something.  They decide to cover up the murder, and as Tom searches the dead man’s car, he finds a video camera.  Inside the room, the couple views the tape, and it shows a satanic ritual, replete with a human sacrifice.  They become extremely fearful when the phone in the room begins ringing.  Ritual is really evocative of seventies, grindhouse cinema and well-directed and executed.  Looking forward to more work from Keating.

Paranormal Activity: The Ghost Dimension (Unrated) (2015)

I admit that I like this one.  However, I don’t know if my like of this latest installment of Paranormal Activity is relative.  The Marked Ones and Paranormal Activity 4 were awful pieces of cinema.  If you remember your Paranormal Activity folklore, then remember the childhood home of Katie and Kristy mysteriously burned to the ground when they were children.  Cut to present time and a new home has been erected on the property which houses a new family, a young couple with a small daughter and their very attractive nanny.  The father’s brother arrives for a Christmas visit, and while the brothers are plundering around the garage, they find an ancient VHS camcorder along with a box full of tapes.  The camcorder is still operational, and the young father is able to capture very interesting, vague images around the house.  They watch the tapes which show ritualistic images of Kristy and Katie.  The young daughter begins talking to an imaginary friend, and her behavior subsequently becomes disturbing.  The beginning of Paranormal Activity starts slow, replete with bad jokes and characterization, but as it progresses, the tone becomes more serious and the imagery and pacing are quite good.  Worth a look, at least for the fans of the series.

The Russian Woodpecker (2015)

The Russian Woodpecker is a wonderful documentary about Ukrainian artist, Fedor Alexandrovich, who alleges that the Chernobyl meltdown was a deliberate act by a Russian minister, to cover up for the failure of the expensive spy radar that sits in the shadow of the reactor.   Alexandrovich interviews key members of the Russian government involved at the time and makes a credible case towards his allegation.  Overshadowing his investigation is the escalating tension between the Ukraine and Russia, and the toll that his investigation is taking upon him and his family.  The Russian Woodpecker is almost Hertzog-ian in its artistry; and the viewer gets treated to many performance pieces by Alexandrovich.  A must-see.

Go Down Death (2013)

Go Down Death is a black-and-white art film which is made up of loosely-connected performance pieces, either involving playful, elliptical conversation or musical sequences containing lyrics of the same.  It is set primarily in an Old West Saloon and involves the prostitutes and their johns.  Outside in the forest, a war rages on.  Non-traditional, experimental cinema, like Go Down Death, can be appreciated in the right frame of mind (e.g. in the right mood), and there is a lot of humor and wit to appreciate here.  I’m certain it will gain more power with subsequent viewings.

Be Good (2012)

Amy Seimetz and Thomas J. Madden play Mary and Paul, respectively, a married couple with a newborn baby girl.  Be Good begins when Mary ends her maternity leave and has to go back to work.  Paul stays home with their daughter.  He is an independent filmmaker working on a screenplay.  He has little time to work on it, because his infant daughter demands most of his time.  He has no funding for his new project and is not producing any income for the family.  Mary doesn’t want to work and wants to come home to care for her daughter.  Over the course of the film, Paul has to confront the decision of abandoning his filmmaking to get a nine-to-five job to support his family.  Be Good follows the spiritual journey of Paul in various episodes as he makes the adult decision to pursue his art or fully decide to care for his family.  Be Good has a strong verisimilitude, good performances, and an overall wholly positive message.  Recommended.

Beneath (2013)

Larry Fessenden’s latest directorial effort, Beneath, continues his obsession with ecological horror.  A group of recent high-school graduates visit a lake where a large, carnivorous fish swims within.  Two girls and four guys float a canoe and paddle out to the middle.  One gets attacked by the fish while three are swimming.  They eventually lose one of their group and the two oars to paddle the boat.  Stuck out in the middle of the lake, they turn against each other in an attempt to survive from the monstrous fish.  Like Larry Cohen, Fessenden, despite his screenplay firmly rooted in B-movie, creature feature, creates a real sensitivity to his characterization and the drama.  Ultimately, a big fish isn’t really the killer, but rather the selfish motives of each character.  Wonderfully visualized and executed, Beneath is an excellent horror film from Fessenden.   

Generation Um... (2012)

Generation Um... would have disappeared into Indie-movie limbo had it not been for the casting of Keanu Reeves as the lead.  Reeves plays a forty-ish drifter, engaged in a relationship with two obnoxious, party-hard young ladies, played by Bojana Novakovic and Adelaide Clemens.  Wandering in the city, after a night of partying, Reeves’s character steals a video camera.  This video camera becomes his metaphoric new eye on life:  he begins questioning his existence by asking child-like questions and taking videos of simple things, like trees in a park.  When he hooks up with the two girls the following evening, he asks the two a series of questions and just generally allows them to perform however they want in front of the camera.  Obviously, confronting the answers to the essence of existence is rarely very pretty.  Generation Um... is generally an unpleasant film, showing its characters as shallow and selfish; and when they begin to question their values, they retreat to either anger or alcohol.  I would recommend most people to view this one with an open mind.  It’s probably due for a reconsideration.

Tu dors Nicole (2014)

Tu dors Nicole is a wonderful, French-language Canadian film about Nicole (Julianne Côté), spending her summer at home with her best friend Véronique (Catherine St-Laurent).  Nicole’s older brother shares their house, along with his two bandmates, while their parents are away on vacation.  Nicole is trying to figure out what to do with her life.  She falls in love with the drummer of her brother’s band.  She has a big fight with her best friend.  She loses her job.  All familiar subjects of “coming-of-age” cinema, but there is a real sensitivity and energy to the film.  Shot in black-and-white with excellent performances, Tu dors Nicole is a sleeper hit.

Last Shift (2014)

Last Shift is an excellent, low-budget horror film.  Rookie cop, Jessica (Juliana Harkavy) is assigned to the night shift on the last evening of an old police precinct.  She is all alone and she isn’t told that previously the cops in the station experienced several paranormal episodes.  Three members of a Satanic, Manson-like cult committed suicide in one of the holding cells, and on this evening, the spirits have come back.  Harkavy is really sexy and is also a very talented actress.  She carries the film.  I expect to see her in more high-profile roles in the future.  Eschewing familiar J-Horror tropes for effective, creepy tension, Last Shift is well worth seeing.

Man Up (2015)

Man Up stars Lake Bell as a cynical, single woman in her mid-thirties who is mistaken by Simon Pegg to be her blind date.  Instead of telling the truth, she pretends to be his date and go out with him.  The two have a strong chemistry.  Halfway through the film, Pegg discovers Bell’s ruse, and the two separate.  In romantic comedy fashion, the final act ends on a high note.  Man Up is nothing new to romantic comedy.  Its visuals and energy are at times evocative of the work of Edgar Wright, and a lot of the jokes are reused or familiar.  Nevertheless, Pegg and Bell make an endearing couple, and it is their performances that make Man Up worth seeing.

Meadowland (2015)

Meadowland is a depressing-as-hell drama about Olivia Wilde and Luke Wilson who play young parents whose son is kidnapped.  A year later, the film begins, and they know nothing about the whereabouts of their son nor if he is alive or dead.  Wilde plays a school teacher who has become detached about the welfare of her students.  She grows a strong attachment to an autistic child attending her school.  She stops taking her medication and as Meadowland progresses, she becomes almost totally disassociated from reality.  Wilson plays a beat cop, and like Wilde, he has less passion towards his work.  He’s bottling up all of his anger but is attempting to get help and find some closure to his son’s disappearance.  Meadowland is extremely well-done and prescient.  The film contains myriad strong performances in supporting roles from the likes of John Leguizamo, Juno Temple, Elisabeth Moss, Giovanni Ribisi, and Kevin Corrigan.  I’ve only seen Wilde in few choice roles but I think she is a very talented actress.  I hope more good roles come her way.  Meadowland is way too depressing for a re-watch but definitely worth seeing for people who like real adult drama.

Soft in the Head (2013)

I loved Nathan Silver’s Uncertain Terms (2014), so I decided to give Soft in the Head a watch.  Sheila Etxeberría plays Natalia, an attractive and aimless woman in her mid-20s who gets thrown out of her boyfriend’s apartment.  She also has a drinking problem.  On the street, she is found by kind-hearted Maury (Ed Ryan) who houses her in his apartment, along with a group of ragtag derelicts.  The brother of her best friend, Hannah (Melanie J. Scheiner), named Nathan (Carl Kranz), falls in love with Natalia.  He’s shy and very socially awkward.  His overbearing parents disapprove of Natalia, because she is not Jewish.  Soft in the Head follows Natalia as she fucks up everything in her path, because of her drinking, often with darkly humorous results.  It is a very well-done film about the limits of control:  how much can one control his/her life, beyond his/her behavior?

Best films of 2015:

4. Uncertain Terms

3. Mistress America

2. Digging for Fire

1. Queen of Earth