Notes from Underdog.

Confederacy of Dunces movie? I'll believe it when I see it, but have to dig the casting.

This has long been a rumored film, but something always gets in the way -- maybe the ghost of John Kennedy Toole himself. The one-of-a-kind novel, sadly posthumously published and decorated with a Pulitzer Prize, features the truly unforgettable Ignatius J. Reilly at the center, a portly, acerbic, misanthropic nutter. Anyway, now comes word that Zach Galiafianakis may star in a new attempt to get the film made, with Flight of the Conchords and Muppets director James Bobin in charge -- sounds like a perfect match.  But color me skeptical that it will happen, and still somewhat skeptical that it should. 

Anyway, hat tip to Vulture for the report. 

What do you think? Is Zach right for the role, or too "hipster"-ish? I think he can capture the smugness and find some of Reilly's clumsiness. 

10 Comedic Dictators in Film

I wrote up this list (yes, it's a slide show, sorry, but it's fun!) for Fandango, on 10 Comedic Dictators in Film >>

Originally I wanted to do 15 but it was a real stretch at that point (and after revisiting Moon Over Parador, I just...didn't like it enough). Anything I missed?

 

 

More SFIFF Reviews (via GreenCine)

I'm a little late getting these linked up here, but here are more reviews of some interesting films I saw at SFIFF55, as published on GreenCine Daily:

SFIFF 2012: Critic's Notebook

by Craig Phillips

 

[The 55th San Francisco International Film Festival continues through May 3.]

The distinctly deadpan feature debut of Lebanese filmmaker Rania Attieh and her American co-director Daniel Garcia, OK, Enough, Goodbye is a warm but not overly sentimental, low-key character comedy. Like the Middle Eastern answer to Azazel Jacobs' Momma's Man, the film concerns a 40-year-old schlub (Daniel Arzrouni) who still lives at home in Tripoli—a seaport city with a rich history dating back to the 14th century, which has since fallen on hard economic times.

The locale has an air of sadness about it; not just war-torn malaise but a feeling for things lost between generations, palpably seeping into this household as a mother regrets that her son is such a loser. She speaks of wedding ceremonies and gowns she used to make, while her sociophobic son can't get a date with anyone other than a prostitute. The unnamed protagonist works in a bakery and doesn't otherwise get out much. When his mother takes off unexpectedly, leaving him on his own, the story becomes about one man's searching—first for his ma, then for himself. It's hard to blame anyone's downbeat demeanor in a decaying, depressing environment, but this sourpuss only becomes more irritable after he's "abandoned." To the directors' credit, the film doesn't deride him but also isn't afraid to mine his neuroses for comedy.

The characters are candidly depicted in documentary-like interviews (one of whom is a neighbor child our sad-sack hero must babysit against his will), though the conceit is a bit awkward in conjunction with the film's running voiceover narration. But OK, Enough, Goodbye has an immediate, realistic feel that subtly grounds the humor. The energy level threatens to flag at times, but Arzrouni proves to be a compelling presence. He hires a poor Ethiopian maid to clean house, except she's really there to keep him company; of course, she doesn't speak a lick of Arabic and doesn't understand his rants. The unlikely pair, along with the neighbor boy briefly form an oddball family unit, at least until our momma's man finds himself a more fitting companion. And, OK, that's enough, goodbye.

Read the rest on GreenCine Daily >>

SFIFF Review: Somebody Up There Likes Me

(I'll have another SFIFF piece, with several film reviews, up on GreenCine shortly. But for now, here's one film I'd definitely recommend, with some reservations. Hopefully it will get a theatrical release this year and you can judge for yourself, if you missed it at SFIFF or SXSW.--cgp) 

Somebody Up There Likes Me [official site], which is not a remake of a boxing biopic but a deadpan, genial comedy fable by Bob Byington, who also made the endearing Harmony and Me. The film is slight but appealing and the cast buoys it along—especially the winning presence of Nick Offerman a.k.a. the one-of-a-kind Ron Swanson on Parks and Rec, here playing a genial, dope-smoking waiter, with a goofy beard rather than Swanson’s famous moustache.

 

Keith Poulson, who’s worked with Byington before, and may remind a bit of Casey Affleck if he were an oddball, goofball non-professional actor, plays Max, a rascal whose mysterious suitcase seems to have rendered him literally ageless. He's not always especially likable, which is either part of the film’s charm or an annoyance. Is it about a man who never matures, who sleepwalks through his life, or is it about how time passes in speeded-up fashion the older we get? Thankfully, don’t expect any sort of Benjamin Button vibe here--although it is in a sense a gentle parody of just that, in low-key comedic vignettes.

Max seems to have a type: blonde, guileless gals, most notably Jess Weixler (Teeth), who plays a nervously shy waitress at the steakhouse and has an addiction to breadsticks, and becomes his second bride. "Are you good in bed?" he asks her. "I get about eight hours," she responds.

Somebody Up There Likes Me has just a little bit of that twee-indie-quirk we've begun to OD on lately. But the comedy is goofier than it is strained, and the script offers its share of amusing tangents and witty observations; Byington has a nice eye for American kitsch and back roads. (Okay, the music score signifies quirk a bit too much for my taste.) The film also features appealing cameos, including ubiquitous indie comedy presence Kevin Corrigan (briefly), plus Offerman's wife Megan Mullally as a couple’s therapist and indie popster Bob Schneider.

A little goes a long way, but it has just the right running time--just as I started to grow weary, it wraps up nicely. You may not care deeply for the characters, but like a good salty breadstick, this tale will please well enough at the time.

 

The Fields: American Gothic independent thrill-horror, review

 

Tom Mattera and Dave Mazzoni's independent horror film The Fields, not to be confused with sodden Irish drama The Field nor to be confused with The Texas Killing Fields (formerly The Fields), is apparently "based on a true story" as experienced by screenwriter Harrison Smith. This might be one issue with the film--rather than letting go and turning it into a more cohesive thriller; for a good part of its running time it's more of a creepy but ambling coming of age story. But for a low-budget film both the look and the sound are quite nice--soundscapes are an overlooked, important aspect of effective thriller-horror--adding to the American gothic feel. It also does fairly well to capture the feel and atmosphere of the early 70s, which is not easy to do when working on a budget.

October 1973: Cherubic curly haired lad Steven goes to live on his grandparents farm while his parents work out their problems.  I'm always a little worried about films, horror, or otherwise, centered around a cute younger kid, but the little actor (Joshua Ormond, who has a lil' Danny Partridge-ish look), is at least sweet and earnest.  Steven keeps a Godzilla toy nearby to protect him from both the monsters outside and the scary clown bank inside his room. Tara Reid plays the mother-getting-her-act-together, looks a little Marisa Tomei-ish here but isn't in Tomei's league as an actress. But she's also not in much of the film, which is instead buoyed along considerably by the presence of veteran actress Cloris Leachman, by far the strongest actor here. Leachman adds to the black comedy (including her blunt warning to the boy about staying out of the corn); not quite as hilariously loopy as she is these days on "Raising Hope" but she seems poised to make a living playing kooky grandmas. 

The script is erratic, though there are some good lines mixed in ("You should be more afraid of the living than the dead"--not exactly reassuring to a kid worrying about Manson coming over.) There are a few scenes that feel low-key and improvised and the narrative has a bit of a ramshackle flow--like its young protagonist, it has a tendency to wander, which makes it both a bit charming and also frustrating. Neighboring farms and the handicapped aunt who lives nearby: all these places seem populated by the cast of Freaks and the Manson Family players. Farmer "Eugene" is Jeremy Davies-ish by way of, well, a certain certain infamous serial killing cultist frequently referred to in this film and who was just up for parole again, making this somewhat relevant. 

Of course creepy cornfields naturally call to mind the Children of the Corn films, but The Fields doesn't really share much with that slasher series, nor is there all that much time spent in the actual cornfield (though it does offer a symbolically scary, if ludicrous, moment in the cornfield near the end).

How much is the boy's imagination and how much is real. It's part of the danger of structuring a narrative from a younger child's POV in that we the audience can end up just as puzzled as he is. 

Clearly, for better and possibly for worse, The Fields comes from the heart. The film is in short, best at recreating the atmosphere--using sounds, lighting, characters who are slightly off--from the boy's point of view, how things that are darkly odd can become downright scarringly freaky to a sensitive child. While it's meant to be more a thriller than out-and-out horror, both the feel of it and the marketing make one have certain horror expectations that may be unmet--and the "thrill" and "scare" aspects are harder to grasp on to. It does offer up some genuinely scary moments later on and there's at least enough here to want to see what these makers do next. Maybe something not based on real events?

B-movie horror actor Tommy Lee Wallace is one of the film's executive producers.

 

Top 10 Oscar Snubs of 2012

Something I wrote for Fandango:

Top 10 Snubs From This Year's Oscars  

What/who else would you add? To the Academy's credit, this year I didn't find quite as many overt snubs as I usually do, especially in some of the individual/performing categories, but Best Picture is still a bit of a silly messy. Extremely Loud? I put A Separation there as one possible replacement for the former, but could name 6-10 other films that could go there instead. Or, you know, just have less nominees this year.

Variety: Oscar previews for Best Actor, Actress and Screenplay.

For Variety's Eye on the Oscar preview section, I wrote the little "How We Got Here" pieces looking at the race for Best Actor, Best Actress, and Original and Adapted Screenplay. 

Variety: "How they got here: Lead Actor"
http://www.variety.com/article/VR1118050204/

(Prediction: Jean Dujardin)

And: "How they got here: Lead actress"
http://www.variety.com/article/VR1118050205/ 

(I didn't say it but my money is on Viola Davis)

Lastly, my look at the two races for Screenplay, Original and Adapted:
http://www.variety.com/article/VR1118050207/

(Predictions: Descendants; Midnight in Paris)

Other pieces in this section, if you're curious:
http://www.variety.com/awardcentral/2012/featured-news/wrap/

MARGARET: Short review (script comparison review coming).

MARGARET

Film: ***1/2

Kenneth Lonergan's long, tortured journey to get this moving, sweeping drama both made and released has been covered well in many places by this point. But it's not until you see the film itself that you can both more palpably feel the pain and see why he--and a number of critics--cared so much about it. After dumping it quietly in selected theaters last year, Fox Seachlight got the message and has re-released Margaret...quietly in selected theaters.  

While the film does suffer at times from histrionics--where instead of being an actors' showcase, as it is quite often, it crosses the line into overtly shrew-y shriekfest--it is often undeniably heartfelt and moving, too.  Lonergan's experience as a playwright helps (and occasionally harms) him here, not just in the series of brief but winning glimpses set on stage, not just in his understanding of the theater actor's world, but in giving his actors scenery to chew, words to swing from.

And so naturally he's an actors director, too, and the cast is for the most part excellent. Small roles are given to Matt Damon and Matthew Broderick as teachers, and they're fine--though their casting obviously did not ultimately help the film avoid being delayed and dumped. Mark Ruffalo does his earnest best in a difficult role as a bus driver responsible for a tragic accident at the center of the story, and Kieran Culkin and John Gallagher also lend capable support as two friends who may or may not be part of Lisa's love life. But the best work is from Anna Paquin as Lisa--the main character (Margaret is a literary reference that will become clear when you see the film)--and J. Smith Cameron as her divorced mom, a neurotic stage actress struggling to cope with her precocious, moody teenage daughter. Cameron is Lonergan's wife but she is superbly well-cast, having been a stage actress herself, and a tremendous actress, she and Paquin have great chemistry. You truly believe they are a mother-daughter pair in both love and hatefulness.

The film's story lives in the shadow of 9/11, having been written and then shot fairly soon after, and some of those elements already feel a little dated. But unlike Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, this rarely feels coyly manipulative, even if it does get didactic at times; but it lives with its skin off and its organs exposed, with the characters own micro-neuroses and self-involvement coming on the heels of an epic tragedy. And Lisa as a character properly reflects the probing, aching ego exploration of a smart, fumbling teen, who means well and yearns to be approved, even when she causes more damage in her wake.

In short, Margaret is a mess at times, frustrating, too, but it's earnest, powerful, painful and poignant. It deserves an audience, and to be discussed.

And I do hope to someday get a chance to see the longer, Lonergan-Scorsese cut, which may cut down on some of the rushed-choppiness in the narrative. 

---

Meanwhile, I managed to procure a copy of Lonergan's script, a draft dated July 2003.  The draft I have is a whopping 183 pages. As has been reported in many places, the film was delayed for several years as Lonergan wrestled with the studio and several outside editors were brought in (as well as Lonergan bringing in Martin Scorsese, whose cut is reportedly longer than this theatrical version). 

In a follow-up post I will look at the screenplay vs. the finished film that I saw, but for now wanted to post this since it's only playing here in San Francisco for a few more days (the SF Film Society Cinema on Post Street).  

 

Reposting: A Beginner's Guide to 'Tintin': Everything You Need to Know About Steven Spielberg's Latest Big-Screen Hero

Reposting a piece I wrote for Movies.com giving some background on the boy reporter/hero and inspiration for the new Spielberg film. [I give the film a B+, for "Blistering barnacles," I really enjoyed it, to be precise. There are some really excellent Herge homages at the film's start, and then the spirit of the comics lives throughout. The writers may have tried to cram too much in (3 comics into one story) but changes otherwise seemed good, kept humor but added more.--cgp]

 

With the big-budget, CGI The Adventures of Tintin film hitting the world in a big way -- directed by one of the most famous of directors and produced by another no stranger to blockbusters -- it's hard to imagine a time back in my childhood when I innocently clutched faded reprints of Hergé's comic books and dreamed of a movie.

The year Raiders of the Lost Ark came out was when I first discovered this series, which shared many elements with Spielberg's crowd-pleasing adventure: A brave, young, globetrotting hero battles nefarious crime syndicates and villains over artifacts and heirlooms—though Tintin, a boy reporter instead of an archeologist, was younger and more innocent (and asexual, though this thought didn't occur to me as much as a lad) than Indiana Jones; and at times Tintin got into trouble more by sticking his nose into other people's business when things struck him suspicious, rather than venturing forth for his own gain. But these beautifully illustrated comic books captivated in much the same way as Raiders, and the stories took Tintin from England, the character’s home base, all over the globe: from South American jungles to Tibet, from fictional countries to, yes, the moon (before anyone really set foot on it).

 

Hergé

Belgian artist Hergé began Tintin as a serialized newspaper strip, before segueing to comic book form. Quite a few of the best stories were written before, during and right after WWII, so Hergé, an anti-fascist who tried to remain apolitical due to worries about Gestapo censorship—and worse—in his occupied country, certainly knew the territory. In that period Tintin was more an explorer like Indy, rather than a reporter (lest he sniff out something the real-life ruling fascists didn't care for). The earliest Tintins, in the 1930s, also had elements of discomfortingly dated racial portrayals, though now it seems clearer that Hergé's work tended to be a sign of the times without much maliciousness to the caricatures; as a judge recently ruled, Hergé's intent was not racist in Tintin in the Congo even if some of the drawings sure seemed that way. But you can trace his progression as an artist and observer reading through to his later work (the last, Tintin and the Picaros, was published in 1976).

In the 1970s and 80s, Tintin had more of a cult following in America than a widespread audience, even though he'd been popular around much of the rest of the planet for decades.

Read the rest here >>

 

[Reposting] Bringing A New Dimension to Movie History: Martin Scorsese’s “Hugo”

[Reposting my piece for Fandor]

Part of the Series The Silent Artists

 

A Dreamland of Magic: Asa Butterfield and Chloe Moretz in Martin Scorsese's "Hugo"

Hugo is clearly a departure for Martin Scorsese, as a 3D feature ostensibly about and for children, free of violence, and rarely very dark. Yet anyone familiar with the director’s work, especially in film preservation and scholarship (itself committed on film through documentaries like A Personal Journey Through American Movies) will know it is also entirely in his wheelhouse, as a valentine to the origins of cinema.

More simply, it is the story of Hugo Cabret, a smart but lonely orphan in a steampunk-ish 1930s Paris, who fends for himself in a railway station’s clock tower. Hugo (played by The Boy in the Striped Pajamas’ Asa Butterfield, who oddly looks like a small Maggie Gyllenhaal, with piercing green eyes, elfin nose and moppish hair) strikes an initially adversarial relationship with a toy shopkeeper (Ben Kingsley). He then befriends the man’s bookwormish but forward daughter Isabelle (the appealing Chloe Moretz, here with an English accent; it’s one of those films set in Continental Europe where a compromise is made to make all the characters act British). The two kids move from trying to solve one mystery–reconnecting with the boy’s dead father–to a question of more historical import: what happened to magician and early film pioneer Georges’ Méliès.

As the story unfolds, Hugo becomes more connected to cinema itself. Hugo recalls that his father once told him seeing a film is “like seeing his dreams in the middle of the day,” and sneaks Isabelle into her first movie screening, Harold Lloyd’s Safety Last (that film’s famous clock-hanging sequence is a bit of an on-the-nose set-up for a later scene, but one can forgive such things). They go to a library and discover a book about movie history, which reveals both the answer to a pressing riddle as well as the book’s author (a bearded Michael Stuhlbarg), who personally regales them with tales of the first movies in all their mystery and power, such as how the Lumiere brothers‘ Arrival of a Train sent audiences leaping from their seats, expecting the train to actually hit them.

Read the rest on Fandor >>