By some evil twist of fate, Spirit of the Marathon showed up in the mailbox and Tribeca 2008 veteran Run for Your Life had a one-week engagement at the Village East the same time I was on crutches and had to give up running a half-marathon after screwing up my left calf muscle. Still, I watched both movies: I am your dedicated film critic, after all. I write my brief thoughts several weeks later, having returned to training too soon and straining my right calf muscle. The world is unfair sometimes.
In time for the fall racing season, two running-themed documentaries, Spirit of the Marathon and Run for Your Life, arrived on DVD. Both are likely to hold more interest for those who lace up their sneakers on a regular basis, although non-athletic New Yorkers also may enjoy the latter, a look at adopted son Fred Lebow.
As a newbie runner, I prefer Spirit of the Marathon, which tracks (no pun intended) six people preparing for the 2005 Chicago Marathon. Director Jon Dunham could’ve composed his film better: The focus is heavier on some non-famous faces (father and longtime runner Jerry, hard-luck Leah) than others (Jerry’s daughter, rookie Rona), and timelines don’t always compute. I also wish I learned more about the course beyond that it’s flat and fast, which any casual marathon follower knows, and additional background about training would help non-track stars. When Dunham shows the runners discussing diet, pace groups and mileage plans, though, my own (curtailed) training plans were awakened. And as cheesy as it may sound, it’s inspiring to see anyone complete 26.2 miles of running.
As a critic, I like Run for Your Life better because director Judd Ehrlich really captures his subject’s 1970s heyday with archival footage (short shorts!), disco-style fonts and funky music. Lebow was one of those colorful, only-in-New-York stories, a Romanian immigrant and garment worker who grew the city’s marathon from laps around Central Park in 1970 to today’s five-borough behemoth. Lebow was quite the showman, getting Playboy Bunnies to run the first women’s mini-marathon and creating races for every occasion. Ehrlich doesn’t incorporate the non-running parts of Lebow’s biography as smoothly as the marathon ones; the talking heads babble more than bring their man into focus. Fortunately, Run for Your Life rebounds in its final laps with Lebow’s own poignant race journey after his cancer diagnosis.
Showing posts with label tribeca 2008. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tribeca 2008. Show all posts
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Two More from Tribeca
Actually, I saw these in August, days apart. Yes, I still have August reviews to write. Boy A is on DVD now; In Search of a Midnight Kiss doesn't have a date, but it is in the Netflix system. That was at the 2007 Tribeca Film Festival.
Oh, I have two movies left from August I'll review one of these days. (Maybe by the end of the year?) I also have another Tribeca movie, Run for Your Life, but I plan to incorporate that with a look at another running documentary I saw recently.
1) Boy A (seen Aug. 13, fifth movie seen in August)
Recalling James Bulger, the British toddler murdered by two 10-year-olds in 1993, the fictional drama Boy A raises questions about forgiveness. After several years in prison for a similar crime, Jack (Andrew Garfield) - known in the tabloids as “Boy A” - has been released into a world he doesn’t know, given an identity, job and social worker (Peter Mullan). Director John Crowley, working from Mark O’Rowe’s adaptation, carefully parcels out the specifics of the transgression as we see Jack make his way in society, find a girlfriend (Katie Lyons) but still struggle with his past. Alternately horrifying and heartbreaking, Boy A features of a portrait of vulnerability in Garfield, whose omnipresent hoodie says so much. Not an easy film, but certainly a thought-provoking one.
2) In Search of a Midnight Kiss (seen Aug. 15, sixth movie seen in August)
The latest branch from the Manhattan tree, In Search of a Midnight Kiss wants to be this decade’s Before Sunrise, but the characters aren’t as captivating. It’s the morning of New Year’s Eve in black-and-white Los Angeles, and failed writer Wilson (Scoot McNairy) places an ad on Craigslist, seeking a date for the big night. Along comes Vivian (a Joey Lauren Adams-like Sara Simmonds), one of those sarcastic, neurotic women often found in indie date movies. Writer/director Alex Holdridge takes us, and his sometimes obnoxious, something funny characters, on a talky night before introducing a jolting secret the next morning. Of course, I liked Before Sunset better than its predecessor, so perhaps Wilson and Vivian will be more appealing in 10 years.
Oh, I have two movies left from August I'll review one of these days. (Maybe by the end of the year?) I also have another Tribeca movie, Run for Your Life, but I plan to incorporate that with a look at another running documentary I saw recently.
1) Boy A (seen Aug. 13, fifth movie seen in August)
Recalling James Bulger, the British toddler murdered by two 10-year-olds in 1993, the fictional drama Boy A raises questions about forgiveness. After several years in prison for a similar crime, Jack (Andrew Garfield) - known in the tabloids as “Boy A” - has been released into a world he doesn’t know, given an identity, job and social worker (Peter Mullan). Director John Crowley, working from Mark O’Rowe’s adaptation, carefully parcels out the specifics of the transgression as we see Jack make his way in society, find a girlfriend (Katie Lyons) but still struggle with his past. Alternately horrifying and heartbreaking, Boy A features of a portrait of vulnerability in Garfield, whose omnipresent hoodie says so much. Not an easy film, but certainly a thought-provoking one.
2) In Search of a Midnight Kiss (seen Aug. 15, sixth movie seen in August)
The latest branch from the Manhattan tree, In Search of a Midnight Kiss wants to be this decade’s Before Sunrise, but the characters aren’t as captivating. It’s the morning of New Year’s Eve in black-and-white Los Angeles, and failed writer Wilson (Scoot McNairy) places an ad on Craigslist, seeking a date for the big night. Along comes Vivian (a Joey Lauren Adams-like Sara Simmonds), one of those sarcastic, neurotic women often found in indie date movies. Writer/director Alex Holdridge takes us, and his sometimes obnoxious, something funny characters, on a talky night before introducing a jolting secret the next morning. Of course, I liked Before Sunset better than its predecessor, so perhaps Wilson and Vivian will be more appealing in 10 years.
Tribeca Trio
Each year at the end of the Tribeca Film Festival, I go through the movie guide again, this time to mark down buzzed-about titles or flicks to seek out if they ever get a release. Fortunately, a half-dozen or so made it to theaters in the past year, even if just for a week. With a 125-word and/or five-sentence limit, I've taken to writing blurb-like reviews.
P.S. Thanks to my Tribeca supervisor Kelly for the second recommendation.
Before the Rains: Before the Rains is an average addition to the Merchant-Ivory canon, boosted by Nandita Das’ performance as lovestruck housekeeper Sajani. As Sajani asks her master and married lover, plantation-owning spice baron Moores (Linus Roache), if he loves her, Das’ body quivers, her eyes a mix of panic and fury. Before the Rains lacks passion when the actress is offscreen, and director Santosh Sivan’s lush cinematography cannot compensate for his deliberate pace. The script, based on a sequence in a 2001 Israeli film, contains a meaty, albeit predictable, tale of adultery, 1930s British/Indian culture clashes, the danger of loaded pistols and issues of loyalty for Moores’ manservant, T.K. (Rahul Bose). In the end, Before the Rains merely echoes another, better Merchant-Ivory production, A Passage to India. (seen on DVD on Nov. 22)
Let the Right One In: The winner for Best Feature at the 2008 Tribeca Film Festival, Sweden’s Let the Right One In is an original surprise: a touching story about acceptance and vampires with two 12-year-old leads. (Well, she's "more or less" 12.) Oskar (Kare Hedebrant) is a social outcast, an awkward target of bullies; Eli (Lena Leandersson) is also a loner, a wide-eyed waif - who happens to be a vampire. Director Tomas Alfredson gives Let the Right One In moody atmosphere, with swirling snowflakes and a lot of darkness that makes shots of red even more vivid, and elicits natural performances from his child actors. Like Pan’s Labyrinth, this isn’t a movie for children because of the graphic blood, but it’s a sweet fable adults can enjoy. (seen on Nov. 21 at the Angelika with vampire lover Brooklyn Jen)
War Child: War Child shares a framework with fellow Tribeca documentary Kassim the Dream - former child soldier, now a success abroad, returns home - only its charismatic center is hip-hop artist Emmanuel Jal. Forced to fight in Sudan’s civil war in the late 1980s, Emmanuel was rescued by a young British woman and taken to Kenya, where he thrived. Director C. Karim Chrobog artfully intersperses talking heads, dynamic concerts, images of genocide, footage of a young Emmanuel in a refugee camp, and Emmanuel today. Chrobog shows Emmanuel’s first trip home in 18 years in a straightforward fashion, marred only by a rush of outside voices at the end. Emmanel himself, his words and his music, make War Child a deserving Audience Award winner at Tribeca. (seen on Nov. 19 at the Village East Cinemas, with Ben in mind)
P.S. Thanks to my Tribeca supervisor Kelly for the second recommendation.
Before the Rains: Before the Rains is an average addition to the Merchant-Ivory canon, boosted by Nandita Das’ performance as lovestruck housekeeper Sajani. As Sajani asks her master and married lover, plantation-owning spice baron Moores (Linus Roache), if he loves her, Das’ body quivers, her eyes a mix of panic and fury. Before the Rains lacks passion when the actress is offscreen, and director Santosh Sivan’s lush cinematography cannot compensate for his deliberate pace. The script, based on a sequence in a 2001 Israeli film, contains a meaty, albeit predictable, tale of adultery, 1930s British/Indian culture clashes, the danger of loaded pistols and issues of loyalty for Moores’ manservant, T.K. (Rahul Bose). In the end, Before the Rains merely echoes another, better Merchant-Ivory production, A Passage to India. (seen on DVD on Nov. 22)
Let the Right One In: The winner for Best Feature at the 2008 Tribeca Film Festival, Sweden’s Let the Right One In is an original surprise: a touching story about acceptance and vampires with two 12-year-old leads. (Well, she's "more or less" 12.) Oskar (Kare Hedebrant) is a social outcast, an awkward target of bullies; Eli (Lena Leandersson) is also a loner, a wide-eyed waif - who happens to be a vampire. Director Tomas Alfredson gives Let the Right One In moody atmosphere, with swirling snowflakes and a lot of darkness that makes shots of red even more vivid, and elicits natural performances from his child actors. Like Pan’s Labyrinth, this isn’t a movie for children because of the graphic blood, but it’s a sweet fable adults can enjoy. (seen on Nov. 21 at the Angelika with vampire lover Brooklyn Jen)
War Child: War Child shares a framework with fellow Tribeca documentary Kassim the Dream - former child soldier, now a success abroad, returns home - only its charismatic center is hip-hop artist Emmanuel Jal. Forced to fight in Sudan’s civil war in the late 1980s, Emmanuel was rescued by a young British woman and taken to Kenya, where he thrived. Director C. Karim Chrobog artfully intersperses talking heads, dynamic concerts, images of genocide, footage of a young Emmanuel in a refugee camp, and Emmanuel today. Chrobog shows Emmanuel’s first trip home in 18 years in a straightforward fashion, marred only by a rush of outside voices at the end. Emmanel himself, his words and his music, make War Child a deserving Audience Award winner at Tribeca. (seen on Nov. 19 at the Village East Cinemas, with Ben in mind)
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Tightrope Thriller
Despite several attempts, my fellow New York lover and I were unable to coordinate to see Man on Wire. (It was also the one Tribeca movie I couldn't get into when I was working press and industry screenings, so I was extra excited to track it down when it opened in theaters in July.) I hope he sees it soon - it's still at the Sunshine - or perhaps when it comes out on DVD later this year. Even if you aren't a city person, Man on Wire is worth seeing simply for its quality.
For 94 minutes, the Twin Towers represent a thing of marvel rather than mourning in James Marsh’s exhilarating documentary, Man on Wire. On Aug. 7, 1974, wire walker Philippe Petit moved effortlessly on a steel cable, thousands of feet above ground, between the Towers for almost an hour. Marsh films mostly in suspense/heist style (think fake IDs, hiding under tarps for hours to avoid police detection), complemented by Michael Nyman’s score and actual footage of Petit’s feats. Marsh also features a lively collection of voices, from French companions to New Yorkers who liked to stir up trouble to, most notably, Petit himself, still elfin and charismatic at 59. Marsh never mentions 9/11, and he doesn’t have to: In Man on Wire, the folklore wins out.
For 94 minutes, the Twin Towers represent a thing of marvel rather than mourning in James Marsh’s exhilarating documentary, Man on Wire. On Aug. 7, 1974, wire walker Philippe Petit moved effortlessly on a steel cable, thousands of feet above ground, between the Towers for almost an hour. Marsh films mostly in suspense/heist style (think fake IDs, hiding under tarps for hours to avoid police detection), complemented by Michael Nyman’s score and actual footage of Petit’s feats. Marsh also features a lively collection of voices, from French companions to New Yorkers who liked to stir up trouble to, most notably, Petit himself, still elfin and charismatic at 59. Marsh never mentions 9/11, and he doesn’t have to: In Man on Wire, the folklore wins out.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Fails To Score Either Goal
OK, I saw this one on ESPN, not in a movie theater. Kicking It was in and out of theaters in two weeks in July, though - that wasn't enough time! I didn't get to the documentary when it was at Tribeca, and you know I make a concerted effort to support my festival.
Kicking It (seen Sept. 9)
Jumbled composition and poorly focused direction dilute Kicking It, Susan Koch’s documentary about the 2006 Homeless World Cup. Storylines and audience attachments can’t develop with Koch still introducing critical characters almost halfway through the movie, when we don’t even have a firm grasp of the initial who’s who. Following the 48-country, multi-cup tournament becomes difficult; teams doing well in one segment are fighting to stay alive the next time we see them. The scattershot approach also muddles the heartbreaking impact of homelessness: In Russia, for example, one can’t obtain ID or work without an address. Alas, Kicking It falls short as both a gripping sports story and as an illuminating social commentary.
Kicking It (seen Sept. 9)
Jumbled composition and poorly focused direction dilute Kicking It, Susan Koch’s documentary about the 2006 Homeless World Cup. Storylines and audience attachments can’t develop with Koch still introducing critical characters almost halfway through the movie, when we don’t even have a firm grasp of the initial who’s who. Following the 48-country, multi-cup tournament becomes difficult; teams doing well in one segment are fighting to stay alive the next time we see them. The scattershot approach also muddles the heartbreaking impact of homelessness: In Russia, for example, one can’t obtain ID or work without an address. Alas, Kicking It falls short as both a gripping sports story and as an illuminating social commentary.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
This Is Your Brain On Drugs
I graduated from high school in 1994, just like Luke and Stephanie in The Wackness. I may have grown up in Boston instead of New York, and I may have been only middle-class, but our lives shouldn't be that dissimilar.
I could not relate to these characters at all.
2) The Wackness (July 25; it's the third movie of the month, though)
A candidate for the worst movie of 2008, The Wackness is so bad that I refused to listen to mid-1990s hip-hop for a week after watching this hell. Writer/director Jonathan Levine uses full-length songs and cultural slang (Giuliani references, Forrest Gump ads, pagers) to advance the film in lieu of plot, dialogue and acting. Then again, the performances are so monotone (perpetually slack-jawed Josh Peck as dope-pushing high-school grad Luke) or absurd (Ben Kingsley, apparently Harvey Keitel's long-lost brother, as Luke's stoned shrink), and the storyline eventually so cliché (rich New Yorkers are messed up and bored!), that perhaps it's best to make Tribe Called Quest do the work. Only Olivia Thirlby, the best friend in Juno, manages to charm as the shrink's stepdaughter and Luke's forbidden-fruit love interest. She’s not reason enough for me to give up my Nas and Wu-Tang Clan boycotts, though - nor can she erase the image of Kingsley kissing flower-child Mary-Kate Olsen …
I could not relate to these characters at all.
2) The Wackness (July 25; it's the third movie of the month, though)
A candidate for the worst movie of 2008, The Wackness is so bad that I refused to listen to mid-1990s hip-hop for a week after watching this hell. Writer/director Jonathan Levine uses full-length songs and cultural slang (Giuliani references, Forrest Gump ads, pagers) to advance the film in lieu of plot, dialogue and acting. Then again, the performances are so monotone (perpetually slack-jawed Josh Peck as dope-pushing high-school grad Luke) or absurd (Ben Kingsley, apparently Harvey Keitel's long-lost brother, as Luke's stoned shrink), and the storyline eventually so cliché (rich New Yorkers are messed up and bored!), that perhaps it's best to make Tribe Called Quest do the work. Only Olivia Thirlby, the best friend in Juno, manages to charm as the shrink's stepdaughter and Luke's forbidden-fruit love interest. She’s not reason enough for me to give up my Nas and Wu-Tang Clan boycotts, though - nor can she erase the image of Kingsley kissing flower-child Mary-Kate Olsen …
Saturday, August 23, 2008
A postscript to April 28
2) Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot - now in theaters (June 27)
I love question-and-answer sessions.
It turns out the music rights weren’t finalized when Adam Yauch screened the basketball documentary at the Tribeca Film Festival in April. http://womanonfilm.blogspot.com/2008/04/tribeca-dispatch-monday-april-28.html
My favorite musical sequence, “Hypnotize,” disappeared from the final cut! I asked Yauch at the Q&A on the 27th; apparently, the estate that holds the rights to the sample in the Notorious B.I.G. joint wouldn’t grant permission for use in the film. Even a Beastie Boy doesn’t have all the sway. Wow!
I love question-and-answer sessions.
It turns out the music rights weren’t finalized when Adam Yauch screened the basketball documentary at the Tribeca Film Festival in April. http://womanonfilm.blogspot.com/2008/04/tribeca-dispatch-monday-april-28.html
My favorite musical sequence, “Hypnotize,” disappeared from the final cut! I asked Yauch at the Q&A on the 27th; apparently, the estate that holds the rights to the sample in the Notorious B.I.G. joint wouldn’t grant permission for use in the film. Even a Beastie Boy doesn’t have all the sway. Wow!
The Best Movie I've Seen This Summer
4) Bigger, Stronger, Faster* (May 31)
I've decided to make an effort to see Tribeca flicks if they make it to theaters. Here's one. P.S. The tiny text after the star says "the side effects of being American."
For those who remember when Michael Moore wasn’t about his image, when he just wanted to educate and entertain, I give you Christopher Bell and his raucous steroid documentary, Bigger, Stronger, Faster*. First-time director Bell attacks the American culture of winning at any cost: Patton, Rocky, Hulk Hogan, the amphetamine-using Air Force. But Bell also comes to the world of steroids firsthand: His body-building brothers use them, influenced by their supposedly pure childhood wrestling heroes, and he’s obviously conflicted about society’s message versus his familial feelings. Bell doesn’t make direct judgments, instead using varied talking heads, statistics, and animation to illustrate the hypocrisy surrounding performance enhancers - the congressman who called the steroid hearings doesn’t even know what drugs are banned; no one’s ever done a study on steroids’ long-term effects; a cold supplement with a prohibited substance didn’t keep Carl Lewis out of the 1988 Olympics. By the end of this difficult, fascinating film, I could pay Bell the ultimate compliment: I’m willing to re-examine my views on performance enhancers.
I've decided to make an effort to see Tribeca flicks if they make it to theaters. Here's one. P.S. The tiny text after the star says "the side effects of being American."
For those who remember when Michael Moore wasn’t about his image, when he just wanted to educate and entertain, I give you Christopher Bell and his raucous steroid documentary, Bigger, Stronger, Faster*. First-time director Bell attacks the American culture of winning at any cost: Patton, Rocky, Hulk Hogan, the amphetamine-using Air Force. But Bell also comes to the world of steroids firsthand: His body-building brothers use them, influenced by their supposedly pure childhood wrestling heroes, and he’s obviously conflicted about society’s message versus his familial feelings. Bell doesn’t make direct judgments, instead using varied talking heads, statistics, and animation to illustrate the hypocrisy surrounding performance enhancers - the congressman who called the steroid hearings doesn’t even know what drugs are banned; no one’s ever done a study on steroids’ long-term effects; a cold supplement with a prohibited substance didn’t keep Carl Lewis out of the 1988 Olympics. By the end of this difficult, fascinating film, I could pay Bell the ultimate compliment: I’m willing to re-examine my views on performance enhancers.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Tribeca Dispatch: Sunday, May 4
Originally, I’d planned on taking in another two volunteer screenings, to give myself 15 flicks in all. Then my friend’s father died in Boston, so I traveled north for a funeral. Therefore, this entry serves as the festival wrap-up.
On an organizational level, this year’s model was more successful than the 2007 version: fewer movies (120 vs. 160), cheaper tickets (as little as $8, as opposed to as much as $25), more centralized setting (mostly the Village East and the AMC Village VII, which are around the corner from each other, rather than trips to the Upper West Side). I know it’s silly the TRIBECA Film Festival barely took place in Tribeca, but the only large theater in the area, the Regal at Battery Park, wouldn’t give up its screens for 12 days.
The quality of the films seemed better this year. While I myself had only three movies to which I would give high marks – Kassim the Dream (which grew on me over the week), Pray the Devil Back to Hell and most notably Fighter – I at least marginally liked almost everything I saw. Last year, I think I disliked all the features and many of the documentaries. When I asked Tribeca employees and critics what they enjoyed, a consensus emerged, one reflected in the awards. Once again, documentaries ruled; I think Tribeca gets caught up in star power when it comes to features.
As I hinted in a couple of previous posts, volunteer organization could be better. Schedule us in blocks, have us work outside the box office on the day tickets go on sale (I stood in line for four hours because my fellow customers were clueless when they would get inside), make sure we have something to do, don’t overbook us. I’d consider working for the festival in 2009, but honestly, I don’t want to give up my volunteer perks of vouchers and surprise screenings!
Why was I more cranky and drained this year? I’m not 100% sure. I’ve seen more than a dozen films each of the prior two years, so it’s not that. It might be that keeping up the blog was hard work! It also might be that the weather was lousy and that I couldn’t have the entire week off from work.
Still, I love Tribeca. It really is one of the highlights of my year.
On an organizational level, this year’s model was more successful than the 2007 version: fewer movies (120 vs. 160), cheaper tickets (as little as $8, as opposed to as much as $25), more centralized setting (mostly the Village East and the AMC Village VII, which are around the corner from each other, rather than trips to the Upper West Side). I know it’s silly the TRIBECA Film Festival barely took place in Tribeca, but the only large theater in the area, the Regal at Battery Park, wouldn’t give up its screens for 12 days.
The quality of the films seemed better this year. While I myself had only three movies to which I would give high marks – Kassim the Dream (which grew on me over the week), Pray the Devil Back to Hell and most notably Fighter – I at least marginally liked almost everything I saw. Last year, I think I disliked all the features and many of the documentaries. When I asked Tribeca employees and critics what they enjoyed, a consensus emerged, one reflected in the awards. Once again, documentaries ruled; I think Tribeca gets caught up in star power when it comes to features.
As I hinted in a couple of previous posts, volunteer organization could be better. Schedule us in blocks, have us work outside the box office on the day tickets go on sale (I stood in line for four hours because my fellow customers were clueless when they would get inside), make sure we have something to do, don’t overbook us. I’d consider working for the festival in 2009, but honestly, I don’t want to give up my volunteer perks of vouchers and surprise screenings!
Why was I more cranky and drained this year? I’m not 100% sure. I’ve seen more than a dozen films each of the prior two years, so it’s not that. It might be that keeping up the blog was hard work! It also might be that the weather was lousy and that I couldn’t have the entire week off from work.
Still, I love Tribeca. It really is one of the highlights of my year.
Yes, but Can They Make Money?
As Michelle and Liz inquired, what are the box-office prospects for some of these movies?
Alas, Tribeca doesn’t have that great a track record. Transamerica, from 2005, remains the most successful money-maker to date, with $9.5 million in ticket sales and two Oscar nominations. In the past two years, a documentary has made the Best Documentary roster at the Oscars, with Taxi to the Dark Side winning for 2007.
Of my baker’s dozen, Savage Grace and Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot have release dates of May 30 and June 27, respectively, but subject matter and odd opening time likely will hurt both. Why not save Gunnin’ for Labor Day, during the Elite 24 tournament, or either the start or finish of college-basketball season? Baghdad High and The Zen of Bobby V will play on cable television later this year – HBO for Baghdad, ESPN for Bobby V – which is where both belong, as does Milosevic on Trial. (That’s played on TV overseas.)
If the Weinstein Co. picks up Trucker, expect a loud Oscar push for Michelle Monaghan. She’s very good, but not quite that great, and Harvey no longer has the Midas touch. I’d love to see Fighter receive a U.S. release and be marketed to a teen audience, but sadly, I’m not sure people can accept reading subtitles if it isn't Chinese kung-fu. (Fighter is Danish/Turkish kung-fu, though. ...) Could Theater of War ever attract anyone outside New York? Its subject matter seems limited, and it feels like a two-week run at Film Forum. I’m not sure how This Is Not a Robbery would work in a theater - TV would be better, but where? The same goes for Eden.
The Africa trio – Kassim the Dream, Pray the Devil Back to Hell and I Am Because We Are – has the biggest hurdles. No matter how much critical acclaim they receive, how much star power is behind them, how much they’re in the news, Africa documentaries simply don’t do well at the box office. Kassim has a better chance because it has the viewer friendly sports angle, but even that probably won’t be enough. Documentaries, while chic, don’t attract audiences these days, likely because the outside world is weighty enough. They’re worth a release, but an eager viewer and his or her friends need to spread the word the first week, before the movies disappear to DVD.
Alas, Tribeca doesn’t have that great a track record. Transamerica, from 2005, remains the most successful money-maker to date, with $9.5 million in ticket sales and two Oscar nominations. In the past two years, a documentary has made the Best Documentary roster at the Oscars, with Taxi to the Dark Side winning for 2007.
Of my baker’s dozen, Savage Grace and Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot have release dates of May 30 and June 27, respectively, but subject matter and odd opening time likely will hurt both. Why not save Gunnin’ for Labor Day, during the Elite 24 tournament, or either the start or finish of college-basketball season? Baghdad High and The Zen of Bobby V will play on cable television later this year – HBO for Baghdad, ESPN for Bobby V – which is where both belong, as does Milosevic on Trial. (That’s played on TV overseas.)
If the Weinstein Co. picks up Trucker, expect a loud Oscar push for Michelle Monaghan. She’s very good, but not quite that great, and Harvey no longer has the Midas touch. I’d love to see Fighter receive a U.S. release and be marketed to a teen audience, but sadly, I’m not sure people can accept reading subtitles if it isn't Chinese kung-fu. (Fighter is Danish/Turkish kung-fu, though. ...) Could Theater of War ever attract anyone outside New York? Its subject matter seems limited, and it feels like a two-week run at Film Forum. I’m not sure how This Is Not a Robbery would work in a theater - TV would be better, but where? The same goes for Eden.
The Africa trio – Kassim the Dream, Pray the Devil Back to Hell and I Am Because We Are – has the biggest hurdles. No matter how much critical acclaim they receive, how much star power is behind them, how much they’re in the news, Africa documentaries simply don’t do well at the box office. Kassim has a better chance because it has the viewer friendly sports angle, but even that probably won’t be enough. Documentaries, while chic, don’t attract audiences these days, likely because the outside world is weighty enough. They’re worth a release, but an eager viewer and his or her friends need to spread the word the first week, before the movies disappear to DVD.
Tribeca Dispatch: Saturday, May 3 (Pray)
Now for my ninth documentary ...
Second movie seen: Pray the Devil Back to Hell
What it is (description from TFF Web site): After more than a decade of civil wars leading to more than 250,000 deaths and one million refugees, a group of courageous women rose up to force peace on their shattered Liberia and propel to victory the first female head of state on the African continent.
Viewing partners: Michelle and Liz
Pray Review: The vibrant Pray the Devil Back to Hell deservedly earned Best Documentary honors at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival, showcasing a riveting storyline and compelling women telling their own story, with no narrator. It also successfully balances text and narrative, using factoids that act as transitions.
In 2002, as civil war raged in Liberia, social worker Leymah formed the Christian Women’s Peace Initiative, which even Muslim women joined – the first time the two faiths came together. Journalists, police officers, secretaries and market workers engaged in seemingly simple tactics in pressing their agenda: prayer, fish market sit-ins, even initiating a sex strike. After more than a year, they made it to the peace talks in Ghana and, when all hope seemed lost, pushed the movement forward with dramatic action.
“Inspiring” and “hero” are such overused words in the English language, but they really apply when discussing the ladies of Liberia. The model of mission statements and peaceful protests legitimately could inspire women everywhere, be they in Iraq or Darfur, to urge their men to stop the violence. (Indeed, producer Abby Disney said she and director Gini Reticker have shown the film in Peru and plan to screen it in Ramallah.)
At only 72 minutes, Pray the Devil actually could stand to be longer, as the film glosses over the women’s role in Ellen Johnson Sirleaf’s election as Africa’s first female head of state. Besides, it would be a pleasure to spend more time with Leymah, Janet, Asatu and their compatriots.
Second movie seen: Pray the Devil Back to Hell
What it is (description from TFF Web site): After more than a decade of civil wars leading to more than 250,000 deaths and one million refugees, a group of courageous women rose up to force peace on their shattered Liberia and propel to victory the first female head of state on the African continent.
Viewing partners: Michelle and Liz
Pray Review: The vibrant Pray the Devil Back to Hell deservedly earned Best Documentary honors at this year’s Tribeca Film Festival, showcasing a riveting storyline and compelling women telling their own story, with no narrator. It also successfully balances text and narrative, using factoids that act as transitions.
In 2002, as civil war raged in Liberia, social worker Leymah formed the Christian Women’s Peace Initiative, which even Muslim women joined – the first time the two faiths came together. Journalists, police officers, secretaries and market workers engaged in seemingly simple tactics in pressing their agenda: prayer, fish market sit-ins, even initiating a sex strike. After more than a year, they made it to the peace talks in Ghana and, when all hope seemed lost, pushed the movement forward with dramatic action.
“Inspiring” and “hero” are such overused words in the English language, but they really apply when discussing the ladies of Liberia. The model of mission statements and peaceful protests legitimately could inspire women everywhere, be they in Iraq or Darfur, to urge their men to stop the violence. (Indeed, producer Abby Disney said she and director Gini Reticker have shown the film in Peru and plan to screen it in Ramallah.)
At only 72 minutes, Pray the Devil actually could stand to be longer, as the film glosses over the women’s role in Ellen Johnson Sirleaf’s election as Africa’s first female head of state. Besides, it would be a pleasure to spend more time with Leymah, Janet, Asatu and their compatriots.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Tribeca Dispatch: Friday, May 2 (Fighter)
Second movie seen: Fighter
What it is (description from TFF Web site): This high-energy martial arts drama chronicles a driven high school student caught between the expectations of her traditional Turkish family and her kung fu dreams. With slickly choreographed fight scenes, Fighter is an empowering story that culminates with an emotional punch.
Viewing partners: none
Fighter Review: Bend It Like Beckham and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon can add another member to the cinematic girl-power family: Fighter, an exhilarating Danish/Turkish production about a wannabe teen kung-fu fighter.
For Aicha (Semra Turan) to achieve her dream, she has several obstacles to tackle: gender bias, failing grades, familial disapproval, and suspicions about her relationship with cute training partner Emil (Cyron Melville). Much of this sounds like the Beckham blueprint, but in Fighter, the struggles run deeper. As a member of Copenhagen’s close-knit Muslim Turkish community, Aicha will suffer grave consequences for her defiance. When her family learns her secret, we watch a food fight unlike any other, with awesome wire work – as well as punches and cruel slams of Aicha’s character.
Writer/director Natasha Arthy doesn’t make Aicha’s life a total downer: A training run with Emil over rooftops would boost even the laziest theatergoer’s endorphins, and Turan glows during the fight sequences.
The end of Fighter may not be the traditional crowd-pleaser in the American sense, but it honors Aicha and her heritage, and it still makes a person cheer. After 11 movies at the Tribeca Film Festival, I finally felt alive after this feature.
What it is (description from TFF Web site): This high-energy martial arts drama chronicles a driven high school student caught between the expectations of her traditional Turkish family and her kung fu dreams. With slickly choreographed fight scenes, Fighter is an empowering story that culminates with an emotional punch.
Viewing partners: none
Fighter Review: Bend It Like Beckham and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon can add another member to the cinematic girl-power family: Fighter, an exhilarating Danish/Turkish production about a wannabe teen kung-fu fighter.
For Aicha (Semra Turan) to achieve her dream, she has several obstacles to tackle: gender bias, failing grades, familial disapproval, and suspicions about her relationship with cute training partner Emil (Cyron Melville). Much of this sounds like the Beckham blueprint, but in Fighter, the struggles run deeper. As a member of Copenhagen’s close-knit Muslim Turkish community, Aicha will suffer grave consequences for her defiance. When her family learns her secret, we watch a food fight unlike any other, with awesome wire work – as well as punches and cruel slams of Aicha’s character.
Writer/director Natasha Arthy doesn’t make Aicha’s life a total downer: A training run with Emil over rooftops would boost even the laziest theatergoer’s endorphins, and Turan glows during the fight sequences.
The end of Fighter may not be the traditional crowd-pleaser in the American sense, but it honors Aicha and her heritage, and it still makes a person cheer. After 11 movies at the Tribeca Film Festival, I finally felt alive after this feature.
Tribeca Dispatch: Saturday, May 3 (I Am)
It was my third consecutive double-feature dip and my second double-documentary day. This time, I had company in my madness: my friend and former boss Michelle and my sister-in-law, Elizabeth. Michelle saw three movies Saturday, something I couldn’t bring myself to do on any day of the festival. Meanwhile, I don’t think Liz ever has seen two movies back to back.
First movie seen: I Am Because We Are
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Executive producer Madonna exposes the tragic stories of the millions of Malawi children orphaned by AIDS, offering both a call to action and a revelatory personal journey. Featuring interviews with Bill Clinton and Desmond Tutu, the film is a testament to survival, change, and hope.
Viewing partners: Liz and Michelle
General festival notes: 1) While waiting for Michelle – at the wrong theater, as it turns out – Liz and I saw Michael Moore (again, in my case). 2) My beloved Tribeca really ought to think about scheduling its volunteers better, as many were fried and snippy at the Village East. I did my four days of volunteering in the middle of the festival, and I thought it was just right: I could refresh the staff without burning out myself. 3) People with rush tickets for I Am Because We Are began coming into the theater much too late. The film has a lot of subtitles, which we could not read because folks were streaming in as much as 20 minutes after the movie started. 4) Michelle and Liz debated the documentary over our halftime dining. Their discussion prompted the direction of my first review, and it’s given me something else to ponder – box-office viability – for a later post.
I Am Review: As a call to awareness, I Am Because We Are offers devastating scenes of poverty, suffering and orphaned children. (Malawi’s population of 12 million includes 1 million orphans.) It also features a much-needed reminder that AIDS remains a problem: The image of a 75-pound mother so gaunt a wheelchair overwhelms her will linger in my memory for a long time.
While I admire the sentiment behind the Madonna-narrated documentary, I am not here to evaluate its social merits. I am here to examine its cinematic ones, and those credentials are somewhat shakier.
The biggest problem, ironically, is with the narrator herself. Madonna’s writing borders on clichéd – “I didn’t (choose Malawi). It chose me” - and in her attempt t0 sound dispassionate, she can come across as clipped. Watching Madonna play with the children more effectively conveys her emotions than much of what she says, although I like when she makes the connection between the death of her mother and her identification with the orphans. While Madonna (thankfully) doesn’t turn I Am into the story of her son’s adoption, it’s surprising she and director Nathan Rissman don’t delve into the issues with international adoption from Malawi.
The other hang-up comes with the overreliance of talking heads. The roster, while impressive – Jeffrey Sachs, Desmond Tutu, Bill Clinton – overwhelms after a time. I would have preferred to hear more from the people of Malawi. It’s their spirit and hope we’re supposed to admire, so let’s give them more air time.
First movie seen: I Am Because We Are
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Executive producer Madonna exposes the tragic stories of the millions of Malawi children orphaned by AIDS, offering both a call to action and a revelatory personal journey. Featuring interviews with Bill Clinton and Desmond Tutu, the film is a testament to survival, change, and hope.
Viewing partners: Liz and Michelle
General festival notes: 1) While waiting for Michelle – at the wrong theater, as it turns out – Liz and I saw Michael Moore (again, in my case). 2) My beloved Tribeca really ought to think about scheduling its volunteers better, as many were fried and snippy at the Village East. I did my four days of volunteering in the middle of the festival, and I thought it was just right: I could refresh the staff without burning out myself. 3) People with rush tickets for I Am Because We Are began coming into the theater much too late. The film has a lot of subtitles, which we could not read because folks were streaming in as much as 20 minutes after the movie started. 4) Michelle and Liz debated the documentary over our halftime dining. Their discussion prompted the direction of my first review, and it’s given me something else to ponder – box-office viability – for a later post.
I Am Review: As a call to awareness, I Am Because We Are offers devastating scenes of poverty, suffering and orphaned children. (Malawi’s population of 12 million includes 1 million orphans.) It also features a much-needed reminder that AIDS remains a problem: The image of a 75-pound mother so gaunt a wheelchair overwhelms her will linger in my memory for a long time.
While I admire the sentiment behind the Madonna-narrated documentary, I am not here to evaluate its social merits. I am here to examine its cinematic ones, and those credentials are somewhat shakier.
The biggest problem, ironically, is with the narrator herself. Madonna’s writing borders on clichéd – “I didn’t (choose Malawi). It chose me” - and in her attempt t0 sound dispassionate, she can come across as clipped. Watching Madonna play with the children more effectively conveys her emotions than much of what she says, although I like when she makes the connection between the death of her mother and her identification with the orphans. While Madonna (thankfully) doesn’t turn I Am into the story of her son’s adoption, it’s surprising she and director Nathan Rissman don’t delve into the issues with international adoption from Malawi.
The other hang-up comes with the overreliance of talking heads. The roster, while impressive – Jeffrey Sachs, Desmond Tutu, Bill Clinton – overwhelms after a time. I would have preferred to hear more from the people of Malawi. It’s their spirit and hope we’re supposed to admire, so let’s give them more air time.
Tribeca Dispatch: at last, Tuesday, April 29
I wish I knew why Tuesdays are never a good day in my Tribeca volunteer world. For the third year in a row, I was not in my usual location for my rotation, and that once again meant I felt unnecessary. Because my supervisor wasn’t around much, by the time I was able to leave, I lacked the turnaround time to go home for a break before returning to the city for my evening screening. At least I found a nice coffee/tea spot with Internet access on 6th Avenue near 11th Street.
Without realizing it, I chose the perfect viewing partners for Kassim the Dream. Ben is interested in Africa and knew who Kassim Ouma was; he’d even watched some of his boxing matches. Patricia wasn’t familiar with the subject matter but has worked with abuse victims for years. They balanced each other out and enhanced my viewing experience.
I also learned that New York City is a small place. It turns out my best friend was at this screening, too, although I wasn’t certain of it until three days later.
Without realizing it, I chose the perfect viewing partners for Kassim the Dream. Ben is interested in Africa and knew who Kassim Ouma was; he’d even watched some of his boxing matches. Patricia wasn’t familiar with the subject matter but has worked with abuse victims for years. They balanced each other out and enhanced my viewing experience.
I also learned that New York City is a small place. It turns out my best friend was at this screening, too, although I wasn’t certain of it until three days later.
Oh, and here's how our subject is doing today, per New York magazine:
http://nymag.com/daily/entertainment/2008/04/boxer_and_former_child_soldier.html
Movie seen: Kassim the Dream
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Kassim "The Dream" Ouma went from Ugandan child soldier to world champion boxer. In this gripping tale of survival and determination, Kassim proves that even against all odds, a man can achieve his dreams and turn tragedy into inspiration.
Viewing partners: Ben and Patricia (and Tim was there, too, although I wasn't 100% sure at the time)
General festival notes: I manned a random desk at the New School for the first two hours and worked in the overly crowded Target Tribeca Filmmaker Lounge for the other two.
Otherwise … You know how if you can’t find something nice to say, you should keep your mouth shut? That might be best here.
Review: Kassim Ouma, the subject of Kief Davidson’s documentary Kassim the Dream, reminds me of … pitching great Pedro Martinez.
Certainly not at first: Kassim, a world-class boxer, was kidnapped from his Ugandan boarding school at age 6, forced to become a child soldier. He deserted the army at 17 and came to America on a boxing visa. Martinez grew up in the Dominican Republic. However, the two share a similar look, a jovial nature that can turn surly and a goofy tendency to call people “Daddy.” In Kassim’s case, it’s his baby son, named for his late father, whom the army killed when Kassim fled Uganda.
Despite his gregariousness, Kassim cannot hide the effects of abuse: pot smoking, sudden changes in attitude, memories of murder, a tendency to blame himself for his family’s misfortune.
Kassim the Dream highlights Kassim’s boxing career, notably his fight with WBO Middleweight champion Jermain Taylor, as well as his desire to return home after a decade away. The latter requires visits to Congress and a pardon from the Ugandan government, now run by Kassim’s former army general.
Davidson’s lensing is simply fantastic. The boxing footage, some of which comes from television, even captures the sweat spray coming off the fighters. The Africa scenes resonate most, though, the crisp blues and ruddy reds provoking envy in even the most talented videographers. Kassim’s journey includes visits to his father’s grave and to his grandmother and other child soldiers, but the most affecting moment comes during a so-called therapeutic re-enactment – staged in the boxer’s honor! – of a murderous attack on a village. Kassim is shaken, and so are we.
Davidson’s protagonist has more complexities than most fiction films could conjure, which may be why Hollywood wants to remake this documentary. Dreadful idea: Kassim is his own man.
Tribeca Dispatch: Friday, May 2 (Theater of War)
After four hours at Dow Jones, I spent - yes! - more time in movie theaters. I paid for none of it, though. Earlier in the day, I’d told several people that while most of the films I’d seen this year were pretty good, none left me energized and enthralled. I found that magic moment at last, in a flick I didn’t even know about at the beginning of the festival.
First movie seen: Theater of War
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Art and politics converge in this provocative look at the life and ideas of Bertolt Brecht, interwoven with The Public Theater's staging of his Mother Courage. Meryl Streep, Tony Kushner, Kevin Kline, and George C. Wolfe take audiences on a behind-the-scenes look at their creative process.
Viewing partners: none
General festival notes: 1) This year, volunteers have the chance to attend more free screenings than ever before; in fact, Friday and Saturday were all-day film fests at the Village East. (I’m skipping Saturday, as I’m already seeing two movies.) We don’t find out what the movie is until we arrive at the theater. Much to my delight, the two selections I caught were ones I hadn’t been able to get into during the previous 10 days. 2) Working Press and Industry screenings has the added perk of giving me access to press notes. During the week, this helped me discover movies I’d ignored in the online guide. That’s how I found Fighter.
Theater Review: Acting class with Meryl Streep! Oh, and the politics of theater, war and Bertolt Brecht. Thus summarizes John Walter’s documentary Theater of War, which really explores the 2006 Central Park production of Mother Courage and Her Children.
The Iraq War inspired playwright Tony Kushner to adapt Brecht’s 1939 work for Streep. The actress said she’d been reluctant to show her “process” because that’s “clunky,” but thank goodness she did: Otherwise, the film feels like a dense collegiate English lecture with strident anti-war sentiment. Theater comes to life with Streep, naturally, but also in examining Brecht. The movie intersperses scenes from a Berlin production starring his wife, and daughter Barbara traces Brecht’s time in exile and testimony before the House un-American Activities Committee.
Ultimately, it’s Streep, “the voice of dead people … interpreter of lost songs,” who engages us in Theater. The Oscar for Best Performance in a Documentary goes to …
First movie seen: Theater of War
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Art and politics converge in this provocative look at the life and ideas of Bertolt Brecht, interwoven with The Public Theater's staging of his Mother Courage. Meryl Streep, Tony Kushner, Kevin Kline, and George C. Wolfe take audiences on a behind-the-scenes look at their creative process.
Viewing partners: none
General festival notes: 1) This year, volunteers have the chance to attend more free screenings than ever before; in fact, Friday and Saturday were all-day film fests at the Village East. (I’m skipping Saturday, as I’m already seeing two movies.) We don’t find out what the movie is until we arrive at the theater. Much to my delight, the two selections I caught were ones I hadn’t been able to get into during the previous 10 days. 2) Working Press and Industry screenings has the added perk of giving me access to press notes. During the week, this helped me discover movies I’d ignored in the online guide. That’s how I found Fighter.
Theater Review: Acting class with Meryl Streep! Oh, and the politics of theater, war and Bertolt Brecht. Thus summarizes John Walter’s documentary Theater of War, which really explores the 2006 Central Park production of Mother Courage and Her Children.
The Iraq War inspired playwright Tony Kushner to adapt Brecht’s 1939 work for Streep. The actress said she’d been reluctant to show her “process” because that’s “clunky,” but thank goodness she did: Otherwise, the film feels like a dense collegiate English lecture with strident anti-war sentiment. Theater comes to life with Streep, naturally, but also in examining Brecht. The movie intersperses scenes from a Berlin production starring his wife, and daughter Barbara traces Brecht’s time in exile and testimony before the House un-American Activities Committee.
Ultimately, it’s Streep, “the voice of dead people … interpreter of lost songs,” who engages us in Theater. The Oscar for Best Performance in a Documentary goes to …
Festival Winners
For the first time, I've seen one. Heck, I've seen two! I agree that the Eileen Walsh was Best Actress for Eden and that Pray the Devil Back to Hell, which I saw Saturday, May 3, was the Best Documentary.
http://www.tribecafilmfestival.org/tff/news-views/Tribeca_Film_Festival_Announces_Winners.html
http://www.tribecafilmfestival.org/tff/news-views/Tribeca_Film_Festival_Announces_Winners.html
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Tribeca Dispatch: Thursday, May 1
I swear, April 29 is coming!
I had to return to the real world today, i.e., my regular job, and I had two documentaries to see after work. I was back to feeling the wall. The Q&A at the first documentary left me outraged, but not for the reasons you might think.
First movie seen: Baghdad High
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Four classmates (Kurd, Christian, Shiite, and Sunni/Shiite) in Baghdad are given cameras to document their last year in high school, resulting in a rare firsthand view of what it’s like growing up where sectarian violence rages right outside the classroom window.
Viewing partners: none
General festival notes: For the third year in a row, I spotted Michael Moore at a general public screening of a documentary. (He always sits in the back.) It’s nice to see he goes to movies with the normal folk.
Baghdad Review: I’m not really sure how to review Baghdad High.
The documentary tells the tale of four Iraqi high-school seniors: a Kurd, a Christian, a Shiite and a Sunni/Shiite. Ali, Anmar, Hayder and Mohammad filmed their lives for a year, starting in August 2006. As such, the quality of the filmmaking isn’t particularly polished, and the movie is overly reliant on explanatory text to fill storyline gaps, but the heart behind it is undeniable. The pervasive American music culture proves especially charming: One student studies the Koran … while listening to Tupac. Other than wondering why the students weren’t listed as co-directors, I was OK with what I saw on screen.
Afterward, I found out how much was missing. Directors Laura Winter and Ivan O’Mahoney weren’t in Iraq at all during the filming; Winter doesn’t even speak Arabic. We never learn that it was the principal who chose the students, basing his selections on safety issues as much as anything else. He didn’t want anyone talking to war lords, nor could the students be seen with Western journalists; otherwise, their lives would be in jeopardy. Winter said she sometimes sent emails asking the boys to explore certain issues, such as a day in the life of their principal or why Mohammad’s relatives moved in with him. What we didn’t hear much of: the boys’ feelings about the coalition presence. We heard from one of the parents, but that doesn’t have the same impact. In the post-script of Baghdad High, we discover that Ali and his family fled Iraq. We don’t find out that they’re in America. Seeing boxes being packed, hearing Ali’s thoughts about the U.S. - missed emotional moments.
Critic Lisa gives Baghdad High a C, knocking it down a full letter by what was left out.
Second movie seen: The Zen of Bobby V
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Former New York Mets manager Bobby Valentine took his baseball expertise to Japan in 2004. This film follows a season in the life of an American who has become an admired icon-and a primary reason that baseball remains Japan's most popular sport.
Viewing partners: none
Bobby Review: Hundreds cheer his arrival in an airport. Middle-aged women scramble to photograph him with their cellphones. Parents have their children touch this man of greatness. His beer and burgers sell like crazy.
Brad Pitt? Michael Jordan?
Nope. It’s Bobby Valentine, former manager of the Texas Rangers and New York Mets, and now the manager of the Chiba Lotte Marines.
Andrew Jenks, Jonah Quickmire Pettigrew and Andrew Muscato spent the 2007 season in Japan, following Valentine and exploring the phenomenon of baseball there in the ESPN documentary The Zen of Bobby V.
One person at the Q&A said the movie felt like a “Bobby love fest.” That’s an accurate assessment: In addition to the aforementioned giddiness, we watch Valentine embrace Japan. He learns Japanese, relishes trying raw fish, explores many gardens and rushes to a drum show. However, the directors stop short of really showing Valentine during the bad times. We hear from several people how losing gets him down, but we don’t see it, and the Marines’ summer struggles are reduced to a fast-moving montage. As with Baghdad High, the filmmakers rely too much on text. We read that one player gets hits often and that people suspect this happens because he’s black, yet we don’t hear from him.
We do glean random, funny thoughts from other players, though. Jose Ortiz’s account of the nature of Japanese dining is especially amusing and also illustrates the country’s orderly structure. The directing trio capture the Marines’ spirit with images from their promotions - ballroom with Bobby is one - and snippets from their crazy fan base. Those people, with their umbrellas and nonstop chanting, reduce Red Sox Nation to a quiet village hamlet.
The Zen of Bobby V is fun and pleasant enough, best suited for its eventual TV home.
I had to return to the real world today, i.e., my regular job, and I had two documentaries to see after work. I was back to feeling the wall. The Q&A at the first documentary left me outraged, but not for the reasons you might think.
First movie seen: Baghdad High
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Four classmates (Kurd, Christian, Shiite, and Sunni/Shiite) in Baghdad are given cameras to document their last year in high school, resulting in a rare firsthand view of what it’s like growing up where sectarian violence rages right outside the classroom window.
Viewing partners: none
General festival notes: For the third year in a row, I spotted Michael Moore at a general public screening of a documentary. (He always sits in the back.) It’s nice to see he goes to movies with the normal folk.
Baghdad Review: I’m not really sure how to review Baghdad High.
The documentary tells the tale of four Iraqi high-school seniors: a Kurd, a Christian, a Shiite and a Sunni/Shiite. Ali, Anmar, Hayder and Mohammad filmed their lives for a year, starting in August 2006. As such, the quality of the filmmaking isn’t particularly polished, and the movie is overly reliant on explanatory text to fill storyline gaps, but the heart behind it is undeniable. The pervasive American music culture proves especially charming: One student studies the Koran … while listening to Tupac. Other than wondering why the students weren’t listed as co-directors, I was OK with what I saw on screen.
Afterward, I found out how much was missing. Directors Laura Winter and Ivan O’Mahoney weren’t in Iraq at all during the filming; Winter doesn’t even speak Arabic. We never learn that it was the principal who chose the students, basing his selections on safety issues as much as anything else. He didn’t want anyone talking to war lords, nor could the students be seen with Western journalists; otherwise, their lives would be in jeopardy. Winter said she sometimes sent emails asking the boys to explore certain issues, such as a day in the life of their principal or why Mohammad’s relatives moved in with him. What we didn’t hear much of: the boys’ feelings about the coalition presence. We heard from one of the parents, but that doesn’t have the same impact. In the post-script of Baghdad High, we discover that Ali and his family fled Iraq. We don’t find out that they’re in America. Seeing boxes being packed, hearing Ali’s thoughts about the U.S. - missed emotional moments.
Critic Lisa gives Baghdad High a C, knocking it down a full letter by what was left out.
Second movie seen: The Zen of Bobby V
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Former New York Mets manager Bobby Valentine took his baseball expertise to Japan in 2004. This film follows a season in the life of an American who has become an admired icon-and a primary reason that baseball remains Japan's most popular sport.
Viewing partners: none
Bobby Review: Hundreds cheer his arrival in an airport. Middle-aged women scramble to photograph him with their cellphones. Parents have their children touch this man of greatness. His beer and burgers sell like crazy.
Brad Pitt? Michael Jordan?
Nope. It’s Bobby Valentine, former manager of the Texas Rangers and New York Mets, and now the manager of the Chiba Lotte Marines.
Andrew Jenks, Jonah Quickmire Pettigrew and Andrew Muscato spent the 2007 season in Japan, following Valentine and exploring the phenomenon of baseball there in the ESPN documentary The Zen of Bobby V.
One person at the Q&A said the movie felt like a “Bobby love fest.” That’s an accurate assessment: In addition to the aforementioned giddiness, we watch Valentine embrace Japan. He learns Japanese, relishes trying raw fish, explores many gardens and rushes to a drum show. However, the directors stop short of really showing Valentine during the bad times. We hear from several people how losing gets him down, but we don’t see it, and the Marines’ summer struggles are reduced to a fast-moving montage. As with Baghdad High, the filmmakers rely too much on text. We read that one player gets hits often and that people suspect this happens because he’s black, yet we don’t hear from him.
We do glean random, funny thoughts from other players, though. Jose Ortiz’s account of the nature of Japanese dining is especially amusing and also illustrates the country’s orderly structure. The directing trio capture the Marines’ spirit with images from their promotions - ballroom with Bobby is one - and snippets from their crazy fan base. Those people, with their umbrellas and nonstop chanting, reduce Red Sox Nation to a quiet village hamlet.
The Zen of Bobby V is fun and pleasant enough, best suited for its eventual TV home.
We Interrupt the Dispatches ...
And on the 10th day, she found something to love.
It took me until Friday night, but I finally saw a kick-butt film. Mom, it has subtitles, so that might rule it out for you, but it was amazing. Fighter tells the story of a Turkish 16- or 17-year-old girl in Denmark who wants to be a kung-fu fighter. Naturally, her Muslim family doesn't approve. It was a last-minute decision to attend, and boy, was it the right one.
More to come later. I'm staying home this morning to catch up on sleep and this blog.
It took me until Friday night, but I finally saw a kick-butt film. Mom, it has subtitles, so that might rule it out for you, but it was amazing. Fighter tells the story of a Turkish 16- or 17-year-old girl in Denmark who wants to be a kung-fu fighter. Naturally, her Muslim family doesn't approve. It was a last-minute decision to attend, and boy, was it the right one.
More to come later. I'm staying home this morning to catch up on sleep and this blog.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Tribeca Dispatch: Wednesday, April 30
Yes, I know this is out of order. I finished the Milosevic on Trial review Thursday morning, whereas I'm still working on the (longer) Kassim the Dream one.
The festival is winding down for the Industry department, part of the reason I tied up my volunteer duties. Now it's time to redeem vouchers for some screenings, as if I weren't attending enough already! I used only one Wednesday, for by far my heaviest film to date. ("Heavy" equaled "intelligent" here, not "tawdry" like Savage Grace.) Milosevic on Trial was the least-populated show I've attended thus far - about 30 people on a Wednesday afternoon, the first nice day we'd had since Saturday. However, the Q&A was fantastic: A 70-minute documentary was followed by a 30-minute discussion with the director. His next project, due later this year: Saddam on Trial.
Movie seen: Milosevic on Trial
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Defending himself against widely credited charges of genocide before an international court in The Hague, Serbia's former ruler proved frustratingly difficult to convict, as this riveting look at Milosevic and the chief prosecuting attorney attests.
Viewing partners: none
General festival notes: It was my last volunteer day, as I must return to the real world and my job. Sob! I returned to my Village East haunts, at this point recognizing some of the same press people and Tribeca staff. I was pleased that my supervisor trusted me enough to be on my own a couple of times, and I felt confident handling everything that came up. One of these days, maybe I should work for a festival rather than just volunteer at it.
Review: More suitable for a 90-minute CNN special than a theatrical viewing, the documentary Milosovic on Trial combs through 2,000 hours of courtroom footage from Serbian leader Slobodan Milosovic's four-year trial at the Hague.
Michael Christoffersen and his crew were able to obtain amazing access: to Geoffrey Nice, the prosecution's lead barrister; to Milosevic's personal lawyer - "Slobo" chose to represent himself during the trial, which he deemed "illegal" - and, briefly, even to Milosevic's widow, just before she went into exile. Alas, the prosecution shut Christoffersen out of many of its strategy sessions, leaving an impression of a disjointed legal team in court.
The other problem: While the information is fascinating, its presentation is cold and clinical, not to mention somewhat dense. Milosevic on Trial represents a rare instance where commercial interruptions would help a production - and in fact, the documentary has been on TV globally.
The festival is winding down for the Industry department, part of the reason I tied up my volunteer duties. Now it's time to redeem vouchers for some screenings, as if I weren't attending enough already! I used only one Wednesday, for by far my heaviest film to date. ("Heavy" equaled "intelligent" here, not "tawdry" like Savage Grace.) Milosevic on Trial was the least-populated show I've attended thus far - about 30 people on a Wednesday afternoon, the first nice day we'd had since Saturday. However, the Q&A was fantastic: A 70-minute documentary was followed by a 30-minute discussion with the director. His next project, due later this year: Saddam on Trial.
Movie seen: Milosevic on Trial
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Defending himself against widely credited charges of genocide before an international court in The Hague, Serbia's former ruler proved frustratingly difficult to convict, as this riveting look at Milosevic and the chief prosecuting attorney attests.
Viewing partners: none
General festival notes: It was my last volunteer day, as I must return to the real world and my job. Sob! I returned to my Village East haunts, at this point recognizing some of the same press people and Tribeca staff. I was pleased that my supervisor trusted me enough to be on my own a couple of times, and I felt confident handling everything that came up. One of these days, maybe I should work for a festival rather than just volunteer at it.
Review: More suitable for a 90-minute CNN special than a theatrical viewing, the documentary Milosovic on Trial combs through 2,000 hours of courtroom footage from Serbian leader Slobodan Milosovic's four-year trial at the Hague.
Michael Christoffersen and his crew were able to obtain amazing access: to Geoffrey Nice, the prosecution's lead barrister; to Milosevic's personal lawyer - "Slobo" chose to represent himself during the trial, which he deemed "illegal" - and, briefly, even to Milosevic's widow, just before she went into exile. Alas, the prosecution shut Christoffersen out of many of its strategy sessions, leaving an impression of a disjointed legal team in court.
The other problem: While the information is fascinating, its presentation is cold and clinical, not to mention somewhat dense. Milosevic on Trial represents a rare instance where commercial interruptions would help a production - and in fact, the documentary has been on TV globally.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tribeca Dispatch: Monday, April 28
The answer to my Sunday quandary (talk vs. movie): the flick. It actually was an easy decision: 1) I love college basketball; 2) I love hip-hip; 3) Time Out New York described Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot as “the hip-hop Hoop Dreams.” Hoop Dreams frequently appears on my favorites list; 4) It was a red-carpet premiere; 5) Brooklyn Jen, who also loves college basketball and hip-hop, was able to go; 6) The prior two years, a competition-themed documentary (The Heart of the Game and Chops) was my favorite thing at the festival.
My decision was the correct one. I’ll get to the review below, but for now let me just say that being surrounded by happy high-school students and a happy Brooklyn Jen definitely boosted my liking of the film. So did the reason for Jen’s excitement: the presence of four of the eight players in the documentary, including the likely #1 pick in the 2008 NBA Draft, Kansas State's Michael Beasley. I guess he scored that #1 spot?
Movie seen: Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Rucker Park. The mecca for all street basketball players. In Beastie Boy Yauch's super-energized documentary, eight of the country's top 24 high school players participate in the first "Elite 24" tournament on the same court that helped turn Dr. J, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and Wilt Chamberlain into legends.
Viewing partners: the aforementioned Brooklyn Jen
General festival notes: Most people become star-struck when they meet actors. I become giddy when I meet critics. While one I encountered proved to be a jerk, I’d rather focus on Scott Weinberg from Cinematical.com. I discovered his site when I was searching for Tribeca coverage Sunday, and I was pleased with the number of reviews and panel write-ups. I complemented him when we met Monday, and he seemed flattered. Therefore, I bookmarked his site, and I encourage everyone to check it out: http://www.cinematical.com. In other news, for the first time in three years, I had a cold, rainy volunteer day. Waah! I worked Press & Industry screenings at the Village East and was super-busy the entire time.
Review: As March Madness memories fade, Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot revives the excitement of amateur basketball. The passion of director and Beastie Boy Adam Yauch cannot be denied, making it easier to accept the documentary’s organizational issues.
Yauch focuses on the first Elite 24 tournament, which took place in September 2006 at Harlem’s famed Rucker Park. (Rucker even receives top billing in the “cast.”) He examines eight of the 24 players, including three likely picks in next month’s NBA Draft: Michael Beasley, Kevin Love and Donte Green.
While Yauch spreads his attention among the players fairly evenly, this also brings Gunnin’ to a long timeout: After a jumbled intro about Rucker and the tournament, we spend the next 35 minutes on very similar star profiles: intro, video of skills, family presence, why Rucker matters to them. Prankster Beasley and the laid-back Kyle Stringer manage to stand out. (The latter on giving up his starting-quarterback gig: “There’s something I’ll miss about football. [Beat] I don’t know what it is.”)
A cool fish-eye lens angle moves the action from Brooklyn to Manhattan, improving Gunnin’s rhythm. As one might expect from a rap legend, the marriage of music to sport stands out, a greatest-hits package of New York City hip-hop from the past 10 years. Indeed, Yauch may be too successful: The Notorious B.IG.’s “Hypnotize” was so electric I barely focused on the third quarter! The game contains slick passing and thrilling scoring drives captured in slo-mo, highlighted with colorful on-court commentary. (Per Rucker tradition, the greatest players earn nicknames; “Shampoo” is the best.) Unfortunately, Yauch breaks up the game for lessons on sneaker endorsements and player rankings - useful information, but he needed to weave it in better.
Gunnin’ isn’t a slam dunk, but it nevertheless swishes into my sports-loving heart.
My decision was the correct one. I’ll get to the review below, but for now let me just say that being surrounded by happy high-school students and a happy Brooklyn Jen definitely boosted my liking of the film. So did the reason for Jen’s excitement: the presence of four of the eight players in the documentary, including the likely #1 pick in the 2008 NBA Draft, Kansas State's Michael Beasley. I guess he scored that #1 spot?
Movie seen: Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot
What it is (description from TFF Web site): Rucker Park. The mecca for all street basketball players. In Beastie Boy Yauch's super-energized documentary, eight of the country's top 24 high school players participate in the first "Elite 24" tournament on the same court that helped turn Dr. J, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and Wilt Chamberlain into legends.
Viewing partners: the aforementioned Brooklyn Jen
General festival notes: Most people become star-struck when they meet actors. I become giddy when I meet critics. While one I encountered proved to be a jerk, I’d rather focus on Scott Weinberg from Cinematical.com. I discovered his site when I was searching for Tribeca coverage Sunday, and I was pleased with the number of reviews and panel write-ups. I complemented him when we met Monday, and he seemed flattered. Therefore, I bookmarked his site, and I encourage everyone to check it out: http://www.cinematical.com. In other news, for the first time in three years, I had a cold, rainy volunteer day. Waah! I worked Press & Industry screenings at the Village East and was super-busy the entire time.
Review: As March Madness memories fade, Gunnin’ for That #1 Spot revives the excitement of amateur basketball. The passion of director and Beastie Boy Adam Yauch cannot be denied, making it easier to accept the documentary’s organizational issues.
Yauch focuses on the first Elite 24 tournament, which took place in September 2006 at Harlem’s famed Rucker Park. (Rucker even receives top billing in the “cast.”) He examines eight of the 24 players, including three likely picks in next month’s NBA Draft: Michael Beasley, Kevin Love and Donte Green.
While Yauch spreads his attention among the players fairly evenly, this also brings Gunnin’ to a long timeout: After a jumbled intro about Rucker and the tournament, we spend the next 35 minutes on very similar star profiles: intro, video of skills, family presence, why Rucker matters to them. Prankster Beasley and the laid-back Kyle Stringer manage to stand out. (The latter on giving up his starting-quarterback gig: “There’s something I’ll miss about football. [Beat] I don’t know what it is.”)
A cool fish-eye lens angle moves the action from Brooklyn to Manhattan, improving Gunnin’s rhythm. As one might expect from a rap legend, the marriage of music to sport stands out, a greatest-hits package of New York City hip-hop from the past 10 years. Indeed, Yauch may be too successful: The Notorious B.IG.’s “Hypnotize” was so electric I barely focused on the third quarter! The game contains slick passing and thrilling scoring drives captured in slo-mo, highlighted with colorful on-court commentary. (Per Rucker tradition, the greatest players earn nicknames; “Shampoo” is the best.) Unfortunately, Yauch breaks up the game for lessons on sneaker endorsements and player rankings - useful information, but he needed to weave it in better.
Gunnin’ isn’t a slam dunk, but it nevertheless swishes into my sports-loving heart.
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