Guru

Reviewer: Maria Komodore
Rating (out of 5): ***

Starring French actor extraordinaire Daniel Auteuil (probably most known to American audiences for his extraordinary performance in Michael Haneke’s Caché, among many other diverse films), Aprés Vous is an entertaining romantic comedy by Tunisia-born filmmaker Pierre Salvadori.

Autueil plays Antoine who, while on his way to meet his girlfriend Christine (Marilyne Canto), runs into a stranger, Louis (José Garcia), who’s trying to commit suicide. Affected by Louis’ unstable emotional state, Antoine decides to take him in, much to Christine’s dismay, demonstrating an unusual amount of kind-heartedness and generosity. Showing a suspiciously big interest in Louis’ well-being Antoine not only lets him stay at his apartment, but also manages to get him a job as a sommelier in the fancy restaurant where he works as a waiter, and fabricates intricate conspiracies to get him back together with Blanche (Sandrine Kiberlain)—the woman who Louis almost took away his own life for. Of course things take a very different turn when, despite his seemingly pure intentions, Antoine finds himself falling for Blanche.

Reviewer: Jeffrey M. Anderson
Rating (out of 5): ****½

In 1968, director Lindsay Anderson and star Malcolm McDowell teamed up for If..., about an old, rigid English boys school attempting to mold young minds with strict control, obedience and punishment. The film had moments of absurd comedy and of drama, moments of stark realism and of blatant non-realism. Flipping back and forth from black-and-white to color footage doesn't make it any easier to pinpoint. But when it opened in that turbulent year, it tapped directly into the mood of the time and became a phenomenon, a cultural landmark. McDowell played Mick Travis, a free spirit who slowly realizes that he can't quite fit in. In the end, he and his cohorts attempt to take over the school with firearms. McDowell became a star in his first movie role, with his James Dean-type physicality, fearless and entrancing. If his confident stride didn't hypnotize you, his gleaming dagger-sharp eyes will. (Just check out his memorable entrance, swathed in black with a black hat and scarf around his face.)

After a stop to play the lead role in Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange (1971), McDowell approached Anderson about working together again. Anderson told him that good scripts don't grow on trees and that he needed to write his own, so McDowell concocted a yarn out of his own life story (even though he was only thirty). The screenwriter David Sherwin wrote the final script, and O Lucky Man! (1973) was born. It's as audacious as anything made in the 1970s, running three hours without much of a plot; it divided audiences to the same degree that If... united them.

Reviewer: James van Maanen
Rating (out of 5): ***½

Confession: What induced me to queue up The Rabbit Is Me was the idea of an East German film that was initially banned and then not seen in public for 25 years. We never got than many East German movies over here to begin with, and since the fall of the "wall," we won’t be getting any more. The movie, as it turns out, is worth much more than just the curiosity factor. It holds up well, even without its "banned in East Berlin" notoriety.

In telling the story of a brother and sister separated by an overzealous judge, director Kurt Maetzig and writer Manfred Bieler (from his novel) see to it that all the details ring true, from the 60s time frame to life under a dictatorial government that was always trying to convince itself and its citizens of its higher nature, only to drown in hypocrisy. The movie shocks precisely by showing us that life with no sugar-coating. For a film this real to have come from the West would be surprising enough; from the East at this time it seems a sort of miracle. One wonders at how those connected with The Rabbit Is Me could have imagined that they would not be prosecuted. Yet at the time filming took place, the German Democratic Republic (yeah, right) appeared to be loosening up, allowing more freedom of expression, particularly in the arts. By the time of the film's release, however, things had clamped shut again, and everyone connected with this movie--and many others of that year (1965)--were in big trouble. Rabbit, however, was perceived as the worst of the lot (which I suppose could now be read as "best"), and over time all the banned films came to be collectively referred to as the "Rabbit" movies.

Reviewer: Craig Phillips
Rating (out of 5): ***

Rob Stewart's gorgeously shot, informative - and wistful - documentary Sharkwater is about that mysterious and fascinating, and, the film argues, the most misunderstood, of all sea animals. If the film sometimes gets a little choppy, the filmmaker's passion for the subject and the disturbing revelations to be gained from watching the film make it more than worthwhile.

The youthful Canadian underwater photographer and biologist Stewart, who quit his job to make this film, narrates and "stars," along with a host of sharks. Sharkwater begins with montage VO from old shark documentaries which include a hilariously misinformed bit of instruction from the Navy on scaring off sharks when in the water, followed by montage of media portrayals of shark attacks, adding to the fear factor. It "makes 'good television," says one frustrated shak researcher. But after initial, entertaining educational section of the film, it segues into a disturbing examination of how sharks are being illegally hunted - most often, and most cruelly, for their fins - as Stewart joins in with GreenPeace's Paul Watson, a fellow Canadian and one of the most passionate and renowned defender of marine life.

Reviewer: Erin Donovan
Rating (out of 5): ***

Jean-Luc Godard's tenth film Pierrot Le Fou, one of the last he made before going full-tilt Marxist, has been restored and reissued in the extraordinary fashion we've all come to know and respect from Criterion. The Technicolor/Cinemascope print has been cleaned up from sad, past versions and a second disc of supplemental materials offers new insights into the film's genesis, production and lasting impact.

After attending a painfully buji party where the men only talk about cars and the women only talk about perfumes, Pierrot (Jean-Paul Belmondo) decides he's had enough of his wife, children and other middle class trappings. He runs off with Marianne (Anna Karina) his children's babysitter, with whom he had an affair years prior. They hit the road, fleeing a group of gangsters her brother had been involved with, take up in abandoned mansions by the riviera, begging for money from tourists and murdering anyone who gets in their way. Eventually romantic idealism gives way to monotonous expectation and obligation and Pierrot and Marianne break up, get back together, declare their love and hate for each other and eventually die.

Both Erin Donovan and James Van Maanen volunteered to work their way through Criterion's recently released Agnes Varda collection. And while the odds are they'll more or less agree on the overall quality, each has their own unique takes on these films. We'll start with Le Bonheur (1965).

Reviewer: Erin Donovan
Rating (out of 5): ****

Agnes Varda's third feature film examines the viability of monogamy in the age of free love and the search for happiness in a time of total unrest. Le Bonheur is similar in concept and cynicism to Jean Luc Godard's Pierrot Le Fou (both released in 1965, no less) but contains none of the bitterness of Pierrot. Varda's deep affection for each of her characters even as they make terrible choices that bring them to eventual doom makes a statement about sexual politics and the fleeting nature of human affection that feels modern even watching it forty-three years after it was made.

Both Erin Donovan and James Van Maanen volunteered to work their way through Criterion's recently released Agnes Varda collection. And while the odds are they'll more or less agree on the overall quality, each has their own unique takes on these films. We'll start with Le Bonheur (1965).

Reviewer: James van Maanen
Rating (out of five) *****

Funny to call a movie a masterpiece when you're not really certain that you like it all that much. But I'm afraid Agnes Varda's Le Bonheur qualifies for just this adjective-overused as it may be-along with the caveat. I first saw the film, controversial upon its debut and even more so today, during its initial American release over 40 years ago. Revisiting it, I find it holds up even better than I remembered--possibly because I am older and, I hope, a bit wiser than I was in my 20s.

Reviewer: James van Maanen
Rating (out of 5): **½ (up it a star if you're particularly interested in Egyptian culture)

What to make of the sensational (in themes and provenance, if not style and substance) Egyptian movie blockbuster The Yacoubian Building? Several things, actually, but let’s start with provenance and themes. Based on a groundbreaking, hugely popular Egyptian novel by Alaa' Al-Aswany that dealt with unusual subjects (for Egypt, at the time: it was published in 2002) such as homosexuality, adultery, drugs, corruption-in-high-places and the decline of Egyptian society, the novel seemed to have dragged Egyptian literary culture into the 20th Century. Of course, since much of the world is now well into the 21st, this is part of the problem that Westerners may have with the book--and its filmed version, which debuted around much of the world in 2006. (Here in NYC, it played at the '06 Tribeca Film Fest, but otherwise had not seen much U.S. action until its DVD release this year via Strand Releasing.)

Reviewer: Maria Komodore
Rating (out of 5): ****

Old friends and compatriots Jan Hrebejk and Petr Jarchovsky have been making films together since 1999. Up and Down, which was nominated for an Oscar for best foreign film in 2004, is the product of their forth (but not their last) collaboration.

Set in Prague, the film opens with petty crooks Goran (Zdenek Suchy) and Milan (Jan Budar) smuggling illegal immigrants into the Czech Republic when they get stuck with a little baby. Not knowing what to do with it, the two hoodlums take it to a fellow criminal who owns a pawnshop and who manages to sale the infant to Miluska (Natasha Burger). Miluska is a severely depressed sterile woman whose obsession with having a baby keeps feeding from her husband Franta's (Jiri Machacek) criminal record that prohibits him from adopting a child. But Hana (Ingrid Timkova), a financially comfortable woman who works for an immigration organization, is trying to find the baby and return it to its biological parents. In the mean time Hana's significant other Oto (veteran Czech actor Jan Triska) discovers that he has a brain tumor and decides to invite his boorish wife Vera (Emilia Vasaryova) and his expatriate son Martin (filmmaker Milos Forman's son Petr Forman), to a reconciliation dinner.

Reviewer: You (as played by Craig Phillips)
Rating (out of 5): ***½ (film); **** (DVD).

The lost noir classic Blast of Silence starts off a bit dubiously, with enough voice over narration to give Robert McKee an aneurysm after ten minutes, and even with some tedious moments early on, but wait, that scalding and scolding, pulp-ish voice over is in the second person, and the increasingly sleazy, realistic atmosphere begins to take hold of you, until you're fairly well rapt. You dig that nightclub scene, the same kind of scene you remember from older noir, but here the beatnik singer's playing bongos, and as the editing gets quicker in pace, and the tension mounts, you can't stop watching. Add to that character actors you've probably never seen before, even if you know the type -- the fat, shady gun smuggler who tries to play all the angles, the one with the collection of pet rats, and the slimy two-timing mobster with a heart of granite. Then there's the dame from the past, she fills a longing in your lonely heart, so much so you can't keep your mitts off her and she boots you out. You've got to focus on the gig at hand, bumping off a mobster, whom you grow to loathe more and more with each day. Everyone's against you, and there's only one thing you can do - pick off anyone in your path. You (as played by Allan Baron, director and co-screenwriter) ain't such a bad guy, but you've had some hard knocks in life. That's just life in the Big Apple, circa 1962.

You know you're a part of something when it feels like both the last "real" noir, a kiss of death to that movement as we knew it, while also one of the first true neo-realist American independents.

That's Blast of Silence, and thanks to Criterion, you're back.

And, as always in a Criterion joint, this little baby comes with some special gifts, most special being an engaging 60 minute documentary, "Requiem for a Killer: The Making of Blast of Silence", which was put together from a 1990 German film on the production. It's, well, a blast.

Reviewer: James van Maanen
Rating (out of 5): ***½

There are those who feel that Agnes Varda's film La Pointe Courte represents the true birth of the French New Wave. After finally viewing this forgotten film (practically unseen by the world since its debut back in 1954), I would tend to agree. Every bit as ground-breaking as Truffaut's 400 Blows and Godard's Breathless, it has it's own measured pace and quiet inquiry--due, no doubt to its being made by a woman, and a woman as unusually gifted as Ms. Varda.

Reviewer: James van Maanen
Rating (out of 5): ****½

Until she made this extraordinary documentary debut in 2006 (at the Tribeca Film Fest), Linda Hattendorf had labored mostly as a film editor; her best-known work was probably on Josh Pais’ 7th Street and Danny Schechter’s In Debt We Trust. Then The Cats of Mirikitani [official site] was released to enormous critical acclaim, winning every one of the fifteen awards for which it was nominated at festivals worldwide. Still, it was not much seen by the general public. Its DVD release this month should slowly remedy that, especially with good word of mouth.

Reviewer: James van Maanen
Diabolically Yours -- Rating (out of five): **½
Our Story: ****
The Gypsy: ***
The Swimming Pool: **
The Widow Couderc: ***½

I think you'd need to be well over your mid-century mark to rise to attention at the mention of Alain Delon. This mildly famous (in America, that is; in Europe he achieved blockbuster status) French star, who rose to international prominence on the coattails of great films such as Rene Clement's Plein Soleil (Purple Noon) and Visconti's Rocco and His Brothers, followed by The Leopard and Antonioni's L'Eclisse, was never much noted for his acting ability. Though he was a perfectly competent actor--sometimes much more than that--no matter what acting roles he or his directors or producers chose (he finally took over all three reins himself), nothing ever began to eclipse Delon's true ace in the hole: his amazing, downright staggering beauty.

That face--the body wasn't bad either--set hearts and lower extremities aflutter around the world. Delon also possessed a real charm, which he used in an interesting fashion from role to role--sometime more, sometimes less, often peeping out from under wraps, more often front and center. The charm seemed effortless, and it drew audiences to him as surely as has the charm of other popular actors from Gable and Grant to Clooney to DiCaprio. Yet none of these could match Delon for pure facial beauty. He was, for lack of a better comparison, the male Elizabeth Taylor. And as beautiful as he was, he still came across as a straight man--even when, in some of his film roles (Purple Noon, for instance) he played a bit toward bi- or pan-sexuality.