Red (2008)

English/93 Minutes/2008/Rated R

I came to “Red” as a Lucky McKee fan. I enjoyed his bizarre horror film “May” and his Masters of Horror episode “Sick Girl.” The screenplay was also written by Stephen Susco (“The Grudge”) based on a novel by Jack Ketchum. I haven't read the book by Ketchum but another of his books adapted for the screen is “The Girl Next Door” about a teenage girl who is tortured to death. The story of Red is described on the box as being about Avery (Brian Cox) who's dog is brutally and senselessly murdered by some teen punks. When Avery finds that he cannot get justice for the killing he takes matters into his own hands.

I was all set for a nice tight revenge thriller ending with Avery going insane and opening some gruesome cans of whoop ass on the punks. After all Cox once portrayed Hannibal Lector in Michael Mann's “Manhunter.” McKee is no stranger to the red, red kroovy and the writer of the Grudge remake should make for something that at least tries to be chilling. Unfortunately the film ends up rather bland. After a good build up the film sort of sputters and fails in the final act. It effectively undoes all of the previous buildup and feels confused and overly pat, as if the film needed to end in a hurry.

I believe this is in large part caused by the fact that McKee did not finish the film himself. He has co-directing credit with producer Trygve Diesen. I did some research and while I couldn't find anything concrete it appears that McKee was let go during production. Filming stopped for almost six months before Diesen stepped in and completed the film. While there is consistency in the visuals of the film (although certain sections are both darker and warmer) the film is unable to come with the payoff. It neither gives us a thought-provoking downbeat ending or a good nasty exploitation ending.

Conceptually this is definitely the kind of film that McKee has made a career of. His characters are often physically and/or emotionally damaged and are outcasts. They are triggered into increasingly violent behavior by singular obsessions that culminate in some self-revelation. For reasons we'll probably never know he never got to see it through. The fact that Angela Bettis was announced as a cast member and does not appear in the final film seals the deal for me (she has an appearance in every McKee film).

While the visuals of the film are sometimes questionable, the acting in the film is uniformly impressive. The cast is filled with well-known names including Tom Sizemore, Robert Englund, Amanda Plummer and a long list of names you may not know but who's faces you certainly will. McKee is able to bring out great performances, especially from hams like Englund who is in only two scenes but is utterly convincing as an out of work, white trash dad. Sizemore is oily as Mr. McCormick but not arch or scenery chewing. The real star though is Cox as Avery.

Cox brings to Avery a quiet dignity and a completely believable escalating obsession. He is definitely damaged goods. He is a widower who is still in mourning for his wife and children. In one chilling scene he describes how they died and the camera never leaves Cox's face. He is positively riveting.

The greatest thing about his performance is that he is believable in his obsession. Not being a dog owner myself it was hard to understand the lengths that Avery goes to. But Cox as Avery shows that Red was the last vestige of his family and his loss is palpable. Every escalation comes naturally. But even a great performance can't sell some of Avery's actions. Many of his actions stretch credulity, especially in a highly litigious age. Avery coming around to the killers' houses borders on harassment and these days he'd have a restraining order slapped on him. It would have been more believable if Avery was more malevolent or secretive in his obsession.
But the character of Avery doesn't want revenge. All he wants is for his loss to be understood and acknowledged. He is like a ghost of guilt that is haunting the boys until they become as unhinged as him. Unfortunately the payoff does not honor that emotional arc leaving us feeling hollow and cheated.

The film seems lost. It doesn't work as exploitation and it doesn't have the chops to bring off something more significant. Thus while the acting is great and the story had promise, I can't really recommend “Red” unless you're a big Brian Cox fan. Those looking for a film like “May” and fans of McKee in general will probably be disappointed. Not Recommended.

NOTE: There is a scene of violence involving the dog but it is off screen. Later in the film we see the corpse of a dog that is worm eaten. Those who are upset by animal violence should take this into account.

Rated R for Violence and Language

Happiness

English/139 Minutes/1998/Not Rated

In the movie “Happiness” no one is happy. They all see the sunny sides of other lives and wish they were their own. But as Solondz is pleased to remind us the happier we pretend to be the more depressed we really are.

The movie follows three sisters as their lives intertwine in small town New Jersey. Joy (a fragile Jane Adams) is a struggling artist, almost thirty and living at home with her parents. Her opening scene with Jon Lovitz (the finest bit he's ever done) sets the stage for what will be the theme in Joy's joyless life: punishment of hope.

Sister Helen (Lara Flynn Boyle) seems to have it all. She's a successful single writer but is completely facile and vapid at one point saying she wished she'd been raped so her work could be more authentic. She finds a weird connection with an obscene caller, Alan (Phillip Seymour Hoffman) who is also her neighbor.

The third sister, Trish (Cynthia Stevenson) is “happily” married to Dr. Maplewood (Dylan Baker) and has three children, the oldest of which is their 11 year old son, Billy (Rufus Read). They live a fairly conventional life with the exception of the good doctor's secret. He is a pedophile, masturbating to teen pop magazines and staring longingly at his son's little league teammates. Dr. Maplewood also happens to be a psychiatrist whose patient is none other than Allan.

Each story presents a facet of what might make us happy. Whether it's happiness in success, happiness in others, or happiness in a situation. Solondz seems to say that happiness is an ideal but isn't found in real life, at least not in the ways we expect. Often we look beyond ourselves for happiness and love only to find that the only unconditional love is self love.

This is illustrated literally by the use of masturbation as a narrative tool. In three cases characters masturbate. One character does so to release frustration, the other to hold his demons at bay and the third as a right of passage that proves that there is hope. This is not happiness either.

Another theme is that the things that make us happy aren't always good things. Many times they hurt others or give us pleasure at their expense. At best people realize they are being used and don't mind because they get something out of it too. In many cases things that make us happy (or think will make us happy) are self-destructive. On the other than if we enslave ourselves to what society says are “good things” they don't necessarily lead to happiness. Only when we surrender our chase of happiness and learn to be content in our situation do we find happiness. In this film happy is the enemy of content just as perfect is the enemy of good.

I would be remiss in this interview if I did not single out for comment Dylan Baker for his performance as Dr. Bill Maplewood. Baker plays Bill as a man who has a desire that he knows is inappropriate but he feels helpless to stop. We never see his molestations on screen but they are discussed in the film in rather explicit terms. It is difficult to watch (as it should be) but Solondz refuses to portray Bill in arch or vile terms, instead showing what a real pedophile would be like. It is a performance that cannot be topped by an actor who probably can't get work anymore because of it.
The highlight of the film is a conversation between father and son. Bill is brutally honest with his son and the scene is heartbreaking. He has lost everything and he knows it. Bill does not justify himself, he knows what he has done is evil and inexcusable. Why does he tell his son these things? He is not seeking forgiveness or even understanding. Perhaps it is his way of saying goodbye, of pushing his son away. The scene brought tears to my eyes and that is not an easy task.

Many people misinterpret Solondz's films as misanthropic which is untrue. Rather he refuses to make his characters one dimensional. They all want to be happy, they're all selfish and self-absorbed. On the other hand they are capable of love and sympathy and evoke in us a sense of pity and perhaps self-identification. Every Solondz film challenges us to not identify with these characters. Everyone has some part that we can empathize with and a part we have a knee-jerk negative reaction to. The question is, are we brave enough to identify with these characters.

In “Happiness” the characters are all damaged in their own way and sometimes they find a moment of pleasure or happiness only to find that the consequences outweigh the pleasure. There is no guaranteed happiness for the characters in the film, but as one of them observes in a toast, “Where there's life, there's hope.” Highly Recommended

Not Rated: Mature Audiences, contains Sex/Nudity, Graphic Language, Mature Thematic Elements Involving Child Molestation and a Scene of Violence

Palindromes

English/100 Minutes/2004/Not Rated

In “Palindromes” Todd Solondz has perhaps finally found a way to tell the story he's been struggling with all these years. From “Welcome to the Dollhouse” through “Storytelling” he has been trying to convey that people do not change but that they are more than their circumstances. At least I think that's the story. It's the one I like best.

Palindromes is the story of Aviva who from a young age decides that she wants to be a mother. When she gets pregnant though, she learns that love is not unconditional and that life is much more complicated than she expected. I should tell more of the story but I don't want to spoil it. Suffice to say that, after a tough decision, she leaves home to find better fortune.

What makes the movie interesting and vital to it's core message is the fact that Aviva is played by 8 different actors of varying ages, race, (and in a brief segment) gender. The movie is roughly episodic with actors changing out at breaks in the story (usually titled by a character name) and sometimes within the same segment (especially near the end). While it may sound like an arthouse stunt the complexity provided by so many different actors provides an intriguing perspective.

Each actor has their moment to shine but there are a couple that really stand out. Sharon Wilkins as “Henrietta Aviva” shines in the role of a lifetime. She is an overweight black actress, a group not unlike middle-aged women who are too young to be lovers and too old to be moms, for whom Hollywood rarely has room. Solondz and Wilkins bring to Henrietta a beautiful innocence and openness that is refreshing. Far from a stunt she is one of the highlights of the film (no coincidence, I think, she's on the cover).

In another turn Valerie Shusterov plays the sexual side of Aviva in a bold role. She occupies an odd middle ground. She may be over 18, maybe not (it is implied she is a minor). She is mature and open about her sexuality and craving that connection. In a typical Solondz trend she finds love with a pedophile named Bob (Stephen Adly Guirgis) who is tortured by his desires.

Finally an unrecognizable Jennifer Jason Leigh turns in a portrait of an older, wiser Aviva who still clings to hope. She has learned to assert herself in a new way, expressing control over her circumstances. It is this Aviva that encounters Mark Weiner, the devil's mouthpiece of the film. He tells her that people do not change, that the depressives will always be depressed, that he has no control over whether he gets married and has children because its completely dependent on his “programming.” Mark has given up control of his life and hidden behind a mask of "rationality” while Aviva still holds out hope. Mark may be Solondz voice, but Aviva is his heart.

Solondz may be saying that we do not change, that we end the way we begin, but that what lies between those areas is complex and beautiful. Each Aviva is a shard of a soul, a facet of her. Even though she does not change she has so many parts. She has a child part, a guy part, an older woman part, each different but adhering to the same unchanging core. Aviva is played by many actors but remains a singular entity. One actor alone would have made a decent dramatic film, but Solondz is not interested in narrative as much as looking so intensely at one character that she actually fractures into pieces.

That's why “Palindromes” works so well as a film but also as a bookend to “Welcome to the Dollhouse.” It finally shows what Solondz' intentions have always been, why his stories are so fractured his characters so tormented. Perhaps I read too much hope into the film, but I think Solondz has said something life-affirming in this film and I think he has finally told his story.

We may never change, but there are so many parts to us that come to the fore in different times that we do not need to “change” we just need to learn to love all our parts. Highly Recommended.

Not Rated: Mature Audiences, contains Language and Sexual Situations, some involving Teens

Fat Girl (aka A Mo Soeur)

French/86 Minutes/2001/Not Rated

First let me say that I hate the American title of this film “Fat Girl.” It engenders every sentiment that this film is opposed to, at lest in my interpretation. The literal title is “For My Sister” which makes much more sense and is a more appropriate title for this touching, realistic depiction of adolescent sexuality, the definitions of womanhood, and the relationship of siblings.

The story is an old and simple one. Anais (Anais Reboux) and Elena (Roxane Mesquida) are two high-school age sisters on a summer vacation. Anais is overweight and plain while Elena is sleek and sexual. Elena is always smiling and bubbling, unconcerned. Anais is withdrawn and somber, living in an interior world. She sings to herself tragic songs of love lost and birds picking at her corpse. In once scene she moves between a wooden diving board and a metal ladder in a swimming pool treating each like a lover, saying things like “of course you're the only one” and asking the diving board if he is jealous. It is a beautiful and heartbreaking scene that is captured with tenderness and that is what makes “Fat Girl” one of my favorite films.

While on vacation Elena meets a handsome college boy, Fernando (Libero De Rienzo), who is also on vacation (from Italy) and they fall quickly into that awkward young love that is so poorly portrayed in cinema. Anais is both suspicious of and jealous of her sister's relationship. She shares a room with her sister and is privy to all her sister's secrets. When Elena has Fernando over Anais can't sleep for the noise. At times she watches curiously and at other times she is crying. Each of the characters are emotionally complex and treated with respect by director Catherine Breillat.

When Fernando is lying in bed with Elena trying to convincer her to make love, he says the things that all men are guilty of saying, “of course I'll respect you” and “you can show your love for me.” As corny or malicious as it may sound on paper, Fernando is not imbued with any ill intentions by the actor or director. He is infatuated with Elena and (like most men) would say anything to have her. His scenes with Elena are filled with mixed emotions and trepidation. She cries, she is unsure and is so totally human. She is young and a virgin and like all people (who are honest with themselves) she is afraid of sex and life after it. Part of the film's strength comes from exploring emotions of a child turned lover and the complexities that it entails.

Anais on the other hand manages to be both more cynical and more sensitive than her older sister. Her scenes alone are heartbreaking as she sits in familiar isolation living out her dreams while realizing how pitiful she is. She does not like her body (as many kids her age do not) but Breillat does not show her as disgusting or treat her as somehow less worthy of love and attraction than her sister. That is partly why I'm confounded by the English title. It is so utterly American where the film is most certainly not. In fact the film goes to emotional depths that are rare in cinema, especially between the sisters.

Anais and Elena fight like sisters but they also love like sisters. There relationship is complex. They yell at each other and call names. They slap one another and wound deeply with words as only a sibling can. But for every scene of violence and anger there are scenes of solidarity and love. There are tender scenes where they talk to each other like sisters, but more importantly like little girls. They recall their childhood and in one scene they talk about looking into one anothers' eyes and feeling complete. It is in these times that we realize that Anais isn't truly jealous or hateful, she loves her sister so much and her sister loves her that they have the explosive element only found among siblings. Perhaps what is saddest is Anais' fear that Fernando will replace her, that her sister will no longer need her around. Elena, after all, is her window to the world.

Anais in fact says she does not want to know her first lover well, that way they won't have to fall out of love and feel foolish, or the boy brag about his conquest. She seems already burned by love having never had it, carrying around the dark weight of someone twice her age. It may be “better to have loved and lost” but for Anais the thought of the loss overwhelms the desire for love, so she daydreams of loneliness and love forsaken. The resolution of her story is both terrifying and understandable and we realize that she has lost the only thing of importance to her as well as the thing she hates most.

The film turns tragic in the last half, with real adult consequences coming for the youths. Breillat deftly captures the shame that outsiders can bring to a sexual relationship, somehow implying that such simple love, such foolish innocence, are things for which we should feel embarrassed. In one confrontation with her mother Elena asks “I suppose you never had a first (lover)?” to which mother replies “this is not about me,” at once denying her own shame and the right to sexuality of her daughter. Breillat sets this up dispassionately as we look through the eyes of Anais. When she hears that her father wants to have Elena examined (to see if she is still a virgin) Anais says “I don't see why others think it is their business.”

The final scenes are quite a shock and I'm not sure that I like the “deus ex machina” approach to the resolution. It feels like Breillat may have said everything she wanted to say and needed a way to resolve one final thread. It is a case where something in real life would feel like grand and random misfortune but in the context of a film seems merely convenient. Whether this is a deficiency in storytelling or just a limitation of the medium I cannot yet decide. The film makes a strong statement I'm just not sure what exactly it is.

The power and uniqueness of Breillat's film is that it treats the girls honestly, never making them young adults (like Ellen Page in “Hard Candy”) or innocent children preyed upon by older men. They are autonomous, capable of love and being loved and expressing their sexuality. Granted, in many cases they do not realize the possible consequences of their actions but how many lovers begin just so. Part of growing up is experiencing and learning from those tentative steps into sexual independence and the worst thing that can happen is for someone else to come in and say “this is wrong, you should be ashamed.”

Perhaps I see in this film a lot of myself and that may sway my perspective. However, I do not think this is completely the case. The sensitive subject is handled in a reverent and respectful manner. It does not skimp on showing sexuality but never feels prurient or for titillation (an excellent contrast would be to the work of Larry Clark). Breillat may be better known for her “pornographic” depictions but that is yet another exertion of an outside morality that does not seek to understand but to judge. While the film is graphic it focuses on the emotions surrounding these decisions and their consequences rather than beautiful people necking for our pleasure. This film is highly recommended.

Not Rated: Mature Audiences, contains Graphic Nudity, Sexuality, and Brief Strong Violence Including a Rape, all involving teens

Snow Angels

English/107 Minutes/2007/Rated R

Snow Angels is a surprisingly positive film about a very dark subject. David Gordon Green (Undertow) directs a ensemble cast in the story of several couples as they try to work out their relationships in times of great change and unrest.

Glenn and Annie Marchand (Sam Rockwell and Kate Beckinsale) are a couple who are separated and have a small daughter, Tara (an amazing and heartbreaking Gracie Hudson). For unspecified reasons connected to Glenn's drinking and a suicide attempt the two are estranged emotionally and physically. It doesn't help that Annie is having an affair with her friend Barb's (Amy Sedaris) husband Nate (Nicky Katt).

Louise and Don Parkinson (Jeanetta Arnette and Griffin Dunne) have a teenage son and are separating after years of marriage because Don says he isn't happy anymore. Their son, Arthur (Michael Angarano) is at the same time finding his first love in Lila (Oliva Thrilby).

Rounding out the couples are Glenn's parents, of whom we see very little but what we see speaks volumes about them. They are an elderly couple who feel like they have decided to stay in a marriage regardless of how they feel about each other. Glenn lives at home with them as he tries to straighten himself out and reconnect with Annie.

All these couples are bound together by Arthur. Annie was his babysitter when he was younger and she is still a friend of the family. He and Annie and Barb all work in a little Chinese restaurant that is run by a man who isn't Chinese (perhaps this is only appreciated by people in small towns like myself where such oddities are common). It is here that we return at the start of every act, touching base with all the characters before the film once again branches out. Green is very deft at keeping all the storylines straight and engaging and doesn't let the camera's eye exploit the subject matter even at its most sensitive.

Snow Angels is first and foremost about film about people who are stuck. They are frozen emotionally and their lives are at a standstill. Annie looks for love in Nate who is just looking for a good time. Glenn is trying to reconnect with Annie and neither are able to accept that they are not the people they once were. The only thing still tying them together is 4 year old Tara, who, like any 4 year old, is oblivious to the complexities in adult relationships (which is refreshing considering most film children act like little adults) and easily bruised emotionally.

Each of the other couples are similarly in complicated situations whether it's the end of love or the beginning. In fact it's safe to say that none of the characters in “Snow Angels” really love one another as they are so caught up in themselves that they can't see. At the same time life continues to move and only goes faster as the problems pile up. Green does an excellent job of conveying this as in many important shots characters will stop moving and continue talking while the camera continues to move, eventually leaving the characters behind.

The subtleties of the camera and composition do much to convey the story independent of the actual drama giving the proceedings all the qualities of a inexorable date with tragedy.

If there is any great flaw in the film, it is that the inevitable tragedy is rather predictable. From the opening scene we hear two gunshots, then the time is wound back “a couple of weeks” and we are left to figure out what those shots will mean. Of course by the end I saw what was coming and the tragedy that touched off the gunfire was just as obvious.

The acting on the other hand is great. Beckinsale plays Annie as a person who feels like her circumstances are beyond her control. Rockwell turns in a great performance with Green's guiding hand reeling him back so that his intensity rarely crosses the line into scenery chewing. The show is stolen by Angarano though, as young Arthur, who is discovering love and trying to deal with the self-destruction of the adults around him. We are given hope that perhaps he will not suffer the same fate.

Indeed, by the end, all of the relationships have moved on, some for better and some for worse. While the movie contains many dark and intense scenes (reminiscent of films like Affliction or The Gift) its message is ultimately hopeful, refusing to go out on the dark final note. This does effect the tone of the film as we see a few scenes of town life at the beginning that are replayed as a coda to the film. The second time through we realize that life has always been moving and nothing has changed in the character's external circumstances. Rather the people have changed and so their perceptions have changed. Thus the ending is perhaps more positive than the tragedies of the plot would seem to permit.

Highly recommended, especially for fans of other dark dramas such as Affliction or The Gift.

Reviewer's Note: there are intense scenes involving children that may be disturbing to some viewers.

Rated R for Language, Some Violent Content, Brief Sexuality and Drug Use

Cache (aka Hidden)

French/118 Minutes/2005/Rated R

“Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” - Sigmund Freud

The literal English translation of the title “Cache” is “Hidden,” a better title and a more apt description. For just as the characters have hidden things from each other, so has Haneke hidden the real drama from the viewer.

The story is supposedly about a well-to-do French couple, Georges and Anne (Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche) who are terrorized by someone sending them tapes of the outside of their house. The tapes are accompanied by child-like drawings of violence. These pictures draw to mind an unresolved guilt of Georges' and when the tapes lead him to a childhood friend things start to unravel.

In “Cache” Haneke has intentionally made a film that is difficult and ambiguous. He shoots in excruciatingly long takes (as long as 3 minutes of a static shot) that force us to focus on what is occurring within the frame. Characters come and go within the frame and many times in wide shot where their encounters have no sound leaving us to make what we will of them. The viewer is made to feel as much the voyeur as the spy sending the tapes. Perhaps that is Haneke's intent.

Indeed many times we are unsure if we are watching the film itself, one of the tapes sent to Georges and Anne, or the filming of one of the tapes. In fact the first scene is a static shot of their house from the outside that lasts for three minutes before the characters start talking off screen and begin fast forwarding through the video. The film is very ambiguous and plays with the fourth wall in a similar way to Haneke's movie Funny Games.

“Cache” is not a movie to be watched but rather to be absorbed and thought about. When the film first ended and I sat down to write this review I was very unimpressed, however, the longer I thought about it (and admittedly trawled the message boards) the more the film seemed to bloom, peeling away layers that revealed the film that I did not think was there.

On the down side we are drawn almost too far outside the drama, the characters too isolated. In many ways Haneke's film is less a dramatic film than an observance. And the presence of some dramatic forward motion, some conflict that grows and is then resolved, is what differentiates a film from an assembled home movie. Unfortunately “Cache” falls closer to home movie than good movie and that is ultimately its undoing.

While “Cache” may grow upon reflection there is still much that could be done to make it less abstract and more engaging. The film forgets that film is a “show me” medium and would rather keep things so open to interpretation that the film ultimately says nothing significant. There is an interesting movie in here somewhere, but it feels too unfocused to make its mark. Not recommended (unless you're a film student).

Rated R for Brief Strong Violence (also contains brief nudity and language)

Bent

English/104 Minutes/1997/Rated NC-17

“Queer is out, queer is dead. Ra-ta-tat-tat,” says Greta (Mick Jagger) in “Bent,” a film based on a London play by Martin Sherman. The film is about gay playboy, Max (Clive Owen) who is caught up in the purging of homosexuals by Nazis in 1930s Germany.

Too save himself from worse persecution Max pretends to be Jewish instead of gay (which he has to prove in a rather grisly scene) and uses his family's money and his own wits to live a slightly better life than other prisoners in Dachau.

It is here that he meets and makes friends with prisoner Horst (Lothaire Bluteau) whom he corrals into the same work detail. Every day they move rocks from one pile to another and then back.

The two men try to find love and friendship even though they are not allowed to touch each other. This leads to some interesting scenes of verbal intercourse that are provocative but not all together sold by the players.

There are some wonderful images (the opening orgy in Berlin, a hat on an electrified fence) and some great performance moments (Jagger in drag is devilish), but these moments just make the ones that don't work more obvious. The writing is obviously meant for a small troop to perform on stage with limited props and personnel and the film suffers from this restriction.

Once the film leaves Berlin and moves into Dachau (played in the film by an abandoned cement factory, complete with ductwork) the level of believability plummets significantly. Also, as much as I love Clive Owen, this is not one of his best performances as he never reaches the intensity or honesty of Bluteau. In fact, it is Bluteau's turn as Horst that makes for the most memorable character, even though he doesn't appear until nearly halfway through the film.

The honesty, integrity and desperation of Horst are what ground the movie and push it into moments of brilliance. In one scene where the two men stand at attention, unable to face each other, Horst cries when Max's verbal love play turns aggressive. He doesn't come off as a preening queen, but as a lonely man who wants the comfort of love.

It is a testament to the players that these characters don't come off as farcical or one dimensional. Say what you will about the acting, but at least they are portraying homosexuals in a way other than the "queer eye" flavor we're all used to these days. I think what makes the movie engaging for us straight folk is that the humanity is stressed over the sexuality. We get to know these men as people, not just "gays." The best films about sexuality are this way, whether it's the dysfunction of "Closer" or the true-crime tragedy of "Boys Don't Cry."

Unfortunately the film is handicapped by its budget and its focused writing. With few extras and a less than believable concentration camp the story doesn't hold up. Also the idea that these two men would be left alone to work seems to stretch the credibility. I understand this film was low budget but if you can't effectively sell the drama on film, perhaps your story is best left on the stage.

The play, first shown in 1979 (with a young Ian McKellan as Max), was among the first to openly discuss the treatment of homosexuals during the Holocaust. It asks the important question “what's wrong with being homosexual?” and has lead to such projects as the documentary “Paragraph 175” about survivors of this persecution.

In this age of saturation of stories about the Holocaust and World War II in Europe, it is refreshing to see a different perspective. The Holocaust story has been told many times on film and it is becoming difficult for filmmakers to tell the story in new and engaging ways. Many either make a showcase of horrors (The Grey Zone), or decide not to show the atrocity (The Counterfeiters). “Bent” is a fresh perspective that is honest and non-exploitative and should be applauded as such.

I recommended the film but only as there aren't many of its type. There are better holocaust films and better films about sexual identity, but “Bent” does try and for that it should be credited.

On a more sinister note, while the film is NC-17 there is not much here to warrant it. What sex there is takes place in the opening orgy scene and nary a penis in sight. The offending scene is two men having anal sex, which we see from behind and there is some thrusting. You've seen much worse in R-Rated films. The rating is sad proof that there is still “something wrong” with being gay. Recommended with reservations.

Rated NC-17 for a strong scene of graphic sexuality, explicit sexual dialogue, some brutal violence, language and drug use

The Counterfeiters (aka Die Falscher)

German/99 Minutes/Rated R/2007

The Counterfeiters joins a respected list of both Holocaust survivor stories and prison camp anti-heroes. This film took home the 2007 Academy Award for Best Foreign Film as well as several international awards. That aside we've been told this story before, and much better.

The film, based on the book “The Devil's Workshop” puts us inside the largest counterfeiting scam ever documented. During WWII the Nazis wanted to ruin the economies of Britain and the US by flushing them with forged bills. To this end a group of artisans, printers and forgers were brought together in a concentration camp and forced to produce these bills. In return they were given privileges such as soft beds, better food, and (in one strange case) entertainment.

Our lead character is one Salomon “Sally” Sorowitsch the greatest counterfeiter perhaps ever. He lives high and well and is only caught when he falls into lazy dalliance with a client's wife. After he is captured he is sent to a concentration camp where he ingratiates himself with his captors by drawing portraits of them and their families. Eventually he is moved to Sachsenhausen where he is brought in to perfect the counterfeiting of Pounds and Dollars.

Sally is an adapter and prizes himself for his ability to survive. More than once we are treated to sequences that show that Sally is smart and perhaps low on scruples. He doesn't care that his work may lengthen the war and aid the Nazis, he just wants to eat well.

Sally finds his moral counterpoint, nemesis, conscience in Burger an expert printer who is determined to undermine Sally at every turn in the name of some higher cause. He's perfectly happy to sacrifice himself and the others in the project to deny the Nazis their collusion and aid. The battle of wits between Sally and Burger and Sally's machinations attempting to play the Nazis are the central stories here.

Unfortunately, while the film is well made and acted (with a great performance by Karl Markovics as Sally), it feels hollow. We never get the sense of guilt the counterfeiters are supposed to feel at their better position in the camps. In fact, very little of the outside is shown, perhaps a stab at realism, but the drama is the lesser for it. The film is brisk but never builds any real tension. Burger comes across as selfish and self-righteous. The end of Sally's arc feels forced the writer bestowing on him emotions that he has not shown throughout.

The film holds itself out as a story of survival which asks the question “is just surviving enough?” This has been addressed in many better films. One example that kept coming to mind was Lina Wertmuller's “Seven Beauties (1975)” where Giancarlo Giannini plays a pimp who must struggle to survive in a concentration camp and how his decisions reshape him. Also there's the great POW drama "Stalag 17" directed by Billy Wilder, starring William Holden as a Sally type of character. Both are much better than this one.

Ultimately “The Counterfeiters” fails to engage and never really gives us the tension, revelation or pay off it seems to think it gives. Back to film school for these guys. Not Recommended.

Rated R for Some Strong Violence, Brief Sexuality/Nudity and Language

The Last Deadly Mission (AKA MR 37)

French/125 Minutes/Not Rated

I happened to find this little gem on the shelf of my local Blockbuster and admittedly I was struck by the cover. It's a profile shot of Daniel Auteuil with a sharp pointed font shouting “The Last Deadly Mission.” I liked that the guy on the cover didn't look like an airbrushed big named 30 something. When I figured out it was a French film, everything made sense.

I'm going to take part of this review to rail against Blockbuster's marketing of their Exclusive films like this one. The front cover you see implies a dangerous thriller or action film. The back cover says:

“Where Justice Ends... Vengeance Begins. An out of control cop dangerously close to the edge is the only one who can protect a young woman from the murderous insanity of a serial killer. Destroyed by the death of his wife and child, Detective Louis Schneider (Daniel Auteuil) is lost until he agrees to protect Justine (Olivia Bonamy) from the madman who forced her to watch him kill her mother and father. Tough, gritty, and violent, this dark, exciting, true crime story is based on writer and director Olivier Marchal's real-life experiences as a street cop.”

Normally I wouldn't quote something so long but I do so to say this: the back cover does not describe the movie accurately AT ALL. In fact it barely describes the last act, ignoring the preceeding 100 minutes all together and his wife is NOT DEAD! There is no agreement to protect the “damsel in distress” and it's a true crime story in the same way that any Law and Order episode is, which is to say, crime happens, so it's based on a true story.

You would think from the cover and the description that this is a cop/victim thriller in the vein of Blink or maybe Jagged Edge, etc. Maybe it will be another titillating bit of exploitation, some T&A and some good gore effects, right? Nothing could be further from the truth. What Marchal provides here is not a thriller but a character study of a cop who is slowly dying on the inside and the slimy world he inhabits. It's closest analogue in American cinema (or any recent cinema) would be Abel Ferrera's Bad Lieutenant or perhaps Takashi Kitano's Fireworks (Hana-Bi).

Much like Keitel in Bad Lieutenant, Daniel Auteiul plays Louis as a man who has been beaten up by the world and is content to just wallow in his misery, going through the motions of life. But Louis is not a man in search of redemption or even considering it. In the films opening lines he says “God is a son of a bitch. Some day I will kill him.” This is as close as we get to his true interior life.

Marchal's characters are enigmas to us, but not to themselves. Gazes between characters are filled with knowledge and history, most of which is left for us to infer. Flashbacks are disjointed, shown in brief glimpses, ever longer, but never revealing all there is to see. We are never allowed the details or to be inside the character's head or motivations.

Just as we are never allowed to experience the interior lives of the characters, Marchal's directing choices seem determined to keep us at a distance (with a few rare exceptions). Even with such lurid material as a serial killer, dirty cops, and sexual misdeeds, the shots are reserved but not hesitant. Nothing is stylized and the sex and violence aren't used for titillation. If anything this respectful treatment of death and the human condition is what makes the violence that much more real.

For example, the first crime scene is presented with little lead up. The men walk in the room and see an older woman, naked and covered in blood laying on a bed. There is no shock, no longing shots of a nude body. Rather it all has a rather stark feel to it, much like anyone else. Go to work, check out the in box (ah, dead body number 5), get started. The film is striking in its unwillingness to engage us on a visceral level and instead lets us think about the characters and their actions.

The story is essentially about incredibly damaged and beaten down people who have given up trying to make a difference. The cops are nearly all dirty and the clean ones are portrayed as slaves to the bureaucracy. The victims are all shattered, if not paralyzed by the evil that has exploded into their lives. Then there are the villains themselves who are just as evil as you might expect (or not expect).

Even in the final reel when the inevitable occurs it is not tinged with rage or catharsis but is shown rather matter-of-factly without extra fanfare, quick cuts or loud music. There is no monologuing. The characters never justify themselves to us or in many cases even to each other. The final showdown features no dialogue at all, just a brief action which is not dwelt upon.

This is a rare film that denies us the visceral catharsis but in doing so gives us something more. We are given ample time to observe and reflect, seeing the tragedies that unfold at a distance. The sympathy we have for Louis is born out of his commitment to doing the right thing. In the end it is his sense that the scales can be balanced, but at a high price, that leads his character's arc. Louis does not justify what he is does and neither does the director. Is what he doing futile? Does he care? That's for us to decide. Recommended.

NOT RATED: Mature Audiences, contains Strong Language, Sex/Nudity, Bloody Violence and Thematic Elements.