Ida

Ida is a stunning film by Polish director Pawel Pawlikowski. A week before she is to take her vows to become a nun, Ana is told that she must meet with her only surviving relative, aunt Wanda, a woman she has never met. Reluctantly, Ana agrees, only to be told by Wanda that Ana is actually an orphan named Ida and her parents were killed in WW II.

Ida/Ana and Wanda set out to find the actual location where her parents are buried. Both of them reveal a bit about themselves as the journey progresses. It's 1962 and this film looks as if it was actually filmed in a Polish village in 1962.

The cinematography is breath taking. Filmed in 4:3 aspect ratio this movie looks more like photographs from a bygone era than a film. 

I am so delighted that in an age of endless super hero movies there are people out there crafting worthy cinema.

Surfwise

The film follows Doc Paskowitz as he dragged his 9 children and wife around the world in a non-stop surf's up pursuit of being a better man/surfer. In 1956 he gave up a very lucrative medical practice in Hawaii, money is the root of all evil by the way, to enjoy surfing day in, day out with his wife and soon to be 9 children.

They get about in a series of beat camper vans, the kids aren't allowed to attend normal school, and mom must breast feed each child a minimum of two years. The documentary also shows how adult kids struggle today to deal with the after math of such a stringently healthy-eating (daily morning gruel) and nomadic lifestyle.

This is a fascinating film to watch. There is a lot of stock footage from the family's 70's early travels. It's  not quite as simple as one man's ego trumps everyone else's needs - which of course is part of the problem. It's a very frank film. The kids talk about holding their ears when they heard their parents having sex every night. This is a reality checker for me. Doc says he wants to be a better man/father, but at the end of the day, he'd rather surf and shag - family be damned.

The Snowtown Murders

The Snowtown Murders is one of those rare three-headed baby movies: I know I shouldn't stare, but I can't take my eye off it. Masterfully directed by Justin Kurzel. Almost everyone in this film is a first timer including director Justin Kurzel. One of the few "vet" actors, Daniel Henshall makes the charismatic John Bunting a farther figure who manipulates those who look to him for guidance. That is really an understatement.  This movie makes No Country for Old Men look like an episode of The Monkees.

The phrase "the banality of evil" is quite appropriate here. Single mom Lizzie lives in a bleak, forgotten suburb with four teenage boys. She's just dumped a not-so-great man friend and the mind numbingly boring days stretch on. Enter John Bunting. The food gets better; bacon and even snow peas are common place. Oddly enough, John seems to always have a hearty appetite.  Birthday parties at the skating rink, ice cream and a macabre bag of tricks.  Ariel Castro showed us that a seemingly normal guy can live a disturbing and sinister other life right under everyone's nose. John Bunting is such a bloke.

Do not be mistaken; this is a disturbing film to watch.  There aren't a lot of difficult scenes, but the  unspeakable events in those scenes, and trust me, I couldn't watch the entire scene in some cases are so raw and real. This isn't gratuitous violence either. I think the world needs to see John Bunting's violence for what is was. He didn't act alone. I think this is the most disturbing thing for me - he managed to not only get 2 other blokes in the 'hood to help out, but also managed to get 16 year old Jamie Vlassaski to join in on the torture and killing of friends and relatives.

The sound track is disturbing in its own right; a staccato track of scratches and scrapes that mimic the victim's time in the tub. Justin Kurzel gets the details right - junk cars with ripped seats, outdoor ash trays sitting in the rain, and cheap, thin torn wall paper.

Watch…because you must. Don't blame me if you can't stop.

Gilda and Yasujiro Ozu's Good Morning

I must admit, I had no idea that Rita Hayworth was that beautiful. Honestly, I could not imagine being that atractive. While Gilda is not a great movie (by any stretch of anyone's imagination), it is a time capsule of Rita's stunning beauty. And, no, that's not her singing that famous song that will stick in your craw for the next couple of day.

Glen Ford stars as Johnny - cuckold on a string if you ask me.

Yasujiro Ozu's Good Morning is a peek into suburban Tokyo life in 1959 as a pair of adorable boys decide they will do anything to get a television. There's gossip, sales men, and awkward neighbor interactions. My eyes were all over the interior scenes - discarded Japanese beer boxes as storage and the ever ubiquitous rice cooker. Families lived uncomfortably close by Western standards, in very small condos, but after dinner…swoon…folks would sit around and read.

Someone Else - Pravada

Pravada is one of my fav local bands. Jesse Lee's singing/songwriting is quite Ray Davies-esc. Jesse's Bambi-eyed wife can be seen in the video peering through the bars on the jail cell and in the line up.

Hitchcock

I watched Hitchcock the other night, despite all the bad reviews I'd read about it. The movie is based on the non-fiction book Alfred Hitchcock and the Making of Psycho. Fresh from the success of North by Northwest, the studios want more of the same. The movie follows Hitchcock (Sir Anthony Hopkins freakishly absorbs Hitchcock) and his wife Alma (Dame Helen Mirren shines) as they struggle to bring Psycho to life. They put up $800,000 of their own money and in order to further pinch pennies, they must use the crew who filmed the TV series. 

A very strong cast rounds out the rest of the film. Toni Collette is Peggy Robertson, Hitch's trusted assistant, Scarlett Johansson sizzles as Janet Leigh, and James D'Arcy is a dead ringer as a young Anthony Perkins. The only fly in the ointment is Jessica Biel as Vera Miles; she seemed asleep at the wheel most of the time.

My fav parts of the movie were the bits about their day to day life. I paused at the refrigerator scene. Oh my godz - what would Hitch (as he let his intimates call him) like to snack on? 

Another aspect of the film that really appealed to me was the the constant jealousy of associates this creative pair seemed to have with each other. I thought it was cute and refreshing. Instead of uber hottie jealously, you had real people jealous of their spouse's time spent with co-workers. Alma was jealous of Hitch's attention to leading ladies and Hitch was jealous of Alma's time spent with creative writing buddy Whitfield Cook. 

I want to read the book now; it's at the top of my required summer reading list.

Stray Dog and Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me

I've wanted to see Stray Dog for quite some time. I've always regretted missing the 35 mm film showing at IMA a couple of years ago. Akira Kurosawa's gorgeously shot film noir master piece staring two of his most esteemed actors: Toshiro Mifune and Takashi Shimura. During a heat wave that envelops Tokyo (there are fans galore both manual and electric) rookie cop Murakami loses his gun (a Colt) on a trolley to a pickpocket. The gun turns up in a series of shootings and Murakami must find the gun before others are killed.

Guilt ridden Murakami teams up with detective Sato to canvas the city and thus the ultimate mismatched partners film noir is born. Toshiro and Takashi are magic together. I must say it is refreshing to see them both out of samurai clothing and in something contemporary.

Akira is a master film maker. Murakami and Sato pursue leads through the sweltering streets of Tokyo. 

Every scene is beautifully framed. 

And now for something completely different….

Big Star: Nothing Can Hurt Me is a documentary about a band from Memphis who never made it big; a  real life Almost Famous, if you will. These guys had it all - the looks and the hooks and the record deal, but fate was dealing for the house (yes, I am rolling my eyes on that one). You are no doubt familiar with lead singer Alex Chilton. At the ancient age of sixteen he was the blue eyed soul singer of "The Letter". Their first album titled #1 Record was a hit with the critics but due to legal problems at Stax Records the album did not make into stores.

This documentary left me feeling nothing for these guys, although it had all the ingredients I normally like: tormented creative song writer with mental issues, haunted by former self singer. I honestly could not care less about this band. While sitting in my NetFlix queue, I, for the longest time, thought this was a mocumentary. The songs remind of the could-have-been songs written for fictional rock films set in the late 60's early 70's. Speaking of songs, since I've watched this documentary, I've run across quite a few videos of various bands doing the song September Gurls. I'm sure I've heard this song in the past and wondered what the heck I was hearing. In an odd twist of fate, this song does tend to stick to the noodle.

I think Alex Chilton had Miley Cyrus syndrome (too famous too young) as he went on to front a punk band among other endeavors. Honestly, don't call yourselves Big Star and don't call your first album #1 Record - the Godz of Pride can see you a mile away.

On the other hand I cannot seem to get enough of the poster child for tormented creative artist Syd Barrett. He wrote and sang the bulk of the songs in the early days of Pink Floyd. When full blown madness set in and Syd had to go, the rest of band were at a loss; what do we do now? Ahh….yes….