The Swedish comedy The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared is a rich mixture of absurdity and broad physical humor. As a geezer escapes from his nursing home and (slowly) embarks on an adventure, he see flashbacks to his earlier Zelig-like life. As the local police launch a half-hearted (or quarter-hearted) search for him, he happens into a criminal gang’s suitcase of cash and picks up a motley crew of confederates. There are two comedies here – the series of absurd coincidences that put him in the most salient moments of 20th Century history AND the guffaw-inducing chase story. Both comedic threads are satisfying and very funny.
Robert Gustafsson is effective playing the protagonist Allan from ages 18 through 100. I loved Iwar Wiklander as Allan’s partner-in-adventure Julius.
The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared has also edged its way into a four-way tie for 12th place on my list ofLongest Movie Titles. It’s a hoot.
There is no narration in Frederick Wiseman’s 2010 brilliant and mesmerizing 2010 documentary Boxing Gym. Nor are there on-screen titles or talking heads. All we see are the owners and patrons of a scruffy Austin, Texas, boxing gym going about their daily routines – conditioning and instruction. Except for a one- or two-second shot of the gym’s entrance, all 91 minutes is shot inside the small gym. The effect is hypnotic.
This is a gym for people of all ages, ethnicities, levels of fitness and genders. It’s unusually welcoming to women, and we see lots of women working out (and never being hassled by the men). There are kids, and even a baby who is moved from workout station to workout station in his carrier seat. Former pro boxer Richard Lord and his wife run the gym, where a membership runs only $50 per month – and that’s negotiable.
This is a sports movie without a climactic Big Fight. We don’t even see a boxing match – just lots of hitting the bags, shadow boxing, jumping rope, footwork on a giant tire and instruction. And more hitting the bags. Everyone is concentrating – getting in a self-isolated zone so they can achieve the rhythmic pattern of footwork and pat-pat-patting the speed bag. Wiseman edits his own films, and Boxing Gym is a masterpiece of editing. He lets us fall into the pace of the place and meet the characters by watching them and eavesdropping on them. He lingers on shots for a reason, skips to another vignette at precisely the right moment and the film is perfectly paced.
There is one extraordinary scene. Near the end of the movie, a man and a woman are sharing the ring as they each workout. In his half of the ring, he is practicing his footwork and throwing punches, simulating a fight. In the other half of the ring, she is doing the same. These are separate individual workouts, and the two never make eye contact. Each is in his/her own bubble of concentration. But their footsteps are rhythmic, they’re both breathing heavily, and the man grunts when he throws punches. If you listen without watching the screen, it sounds like sex. The result is a powerfully erotic scene – perhaps even more powerful because the two people are not interacting with each other at all. Unforgettable. (Wiseman may not have known what he had when he shot this sequence, but he certainly recognized it in the editing room.)
Wiseman was 80 when he made Boxing Gym, his fortieth movie. Since then, he’s directed the critically praised La Danse, At Berkeley and National Gallery. Wiseman was a law professor who made a career change at age 37. His breakout film was the pysch hospital expose Titicut Follies in 1967.
Love & Mercy, the emotionally powerful biopic of the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson, is the true life story of an extraordinarily gifted person facing three monsters. Wilson is a musical genius, one of the great songwriting, arranging and producing talents of his century. But his art and his very survival were tested by his tormentors until unselfish love found him an escape to treatment, and, ultimately, his salvation.
In his first feature as a director, veteran producer Bill Pohlad chose to depict two phases of Wilson’s life, with Wilson played by Paul Dano and John Cusack.
The first monster is Wilson’s father Murry (Bill Camp), an abusive father whose adult sons still fear after they have fired him as their manager. What kind of father needs to belittle and sabotage his sons so he doesn’t have to acknowledge that their success surpasses his own? Brian Wilson is deaf in one ear from his father’s punches, but the psychological scars are even more deeply felt.
The second monster is Brian’s own schizoid affective disorder, a condition causing auditory hallucinations. Brilliantly, Pohlad has chosen to let the audience hear what Brian hears. This can be thrilling in moments of musical inspiration. And, of course, it is terrifying most of the time.
The third monster is charlatan psychologist Dr. Eugene Landy (Paul Giamatti), a Svengali-like manipulator, who over-medicates Brian, then confines him, while controlling and watching his every move. Landy leeches off Brian’s fortune and is ruthlessly protective of his racket.
Murry and Landy are so scary that Beach Boy Mike Love, known to be (and portrayed here as) a colossal jerk, almost seems sympathetic by comparison.
In the younger Dano segments, we see Brian at his creative peak, emotionally tortured by Murry and about to be driven into a breakdown by his condition. In the middle-aged Cusack parts, we see Brian, broken down by his illness, utterly helpless against and captive to Landy’s web of control.
Dano shows us Brian’s vulnerable genius. Cusack shows us Brian as gentle and genuine. The story of Love & Mercy is about how he escapes being under the thumb of his monsters, chiefly from the perspective of Melinda Ledbetter (Elizabeth Banks), the woman who would become his second wife. As good as are Dano and Cusack, Banks is absolutely stellar; her character must continually react to the unpredictability of Brian’s illness and the increasing horror of Landy’s tyranny.
From the beginning, Love & Mercy sweeps us up into the highs and lows of Brian Wilson’s life – and it’s a helluva life. Love & Mercy is one of the Best Movies of 2015 – So Far. Watch the end credits all the way to the end.
Melissa McCarthy spoofs James Bond-type spy movies in the winning comedy Spy. She plays a put-upon back-of-the-house CIA operative who supports a glamorous super spy (Jude Law). She is extremely skilled, but he gets all the credit for their successes. She is so low self-esteemed that even SHE doesn’t recognize her own competence and achievements. Then circumstances pull her out of the basement at Langley and into the field for an operation – and the joke is on everyone else.
McCarthy carries Spy with her gifts for both verbal and physical comedy. She is so damned appealing, and she represents every one of us who has felt underestimated. And NOBODY delivers a filthy insult with more comic effect.
Law is as suave as he can be. Jason Statham sends up his own scowling action hero roles by playing an agent swaggering with macho braggadocio but who really a buffoon. The villainess is played by Rose Byrne, who broke out as a first-rate movie comedienne in last year’s Neighbors; she’s at least as good in Spy. New York City-born swimsuit model Nargis Fakhri has starred in a few Bollywood movies, and she has a rockin’ action sequence here that indicates that she has a future in mainstream American films.
Spy was written and directed by Paul Feig, the creator of Freaks and Geeks who directed the hit picture that McCarthy stole, Bridesmaids , and the hilarious McCarthy vehicle The Heat. In Spy, he starts us off with a Shirley Bassyesque title song, and then parodies all the conventions of the super spy movie genre, one by one.
Spy sustains its laughs throughout. It’s maybe not quite as funny as The Heat, but it’s a an entertaining diversion, and a great chance to enjoy the unique talent of Melissa McCarthy.
Deenis O’Keefe and Ann Sheridan in WOMAN ON THE RUN
On Friday night, June 5, Turner Classic Movies is presenting one of my Overlooked Noir, in its wonderful film noir series Summer of Darkness. The character-driven thriller Woman on the Run (1950) is notable for its San Francisco locations, making it a veritable time capsule of the post-war City By The Bay.
The movie opens with a murder, and the one terrified witness goes underground. When the police coming looking for him, they are surprised to find his wife (Ann Sheridan) both ignorant of his whereabouts and unconcerned. While still living in the same apartment, the couple is estranged. And the wife has a Mouth On Her, much to the dismay of the detective (Robert Keith), who keeps walking into a torrent of sass.
But soon the wife starts hunting hubbie, along with the cops, a reporter (Dennis O’Keefe) and the killer. It’s a race to see who can find him first. One character is revealed to be more dangerous than was apparent, and the audience learns this before our heroine does.
One quirky nugget – when she visits his workplace, we learn that his job is making mannikins in the basement of a large department store.
Sheridan is great in this uncharacteristically insolent role. So are O’Keefe and Keith. But the real star of Woman on the Run is San Francisco itself, from the hilly neighborhoods to the bustling streets to the dank and foreboding waterfront. Oddly, the finale is at an amusement park which seems to be Playland At the Beach (but was actually filmed at the Santa Monica Pier). (Further trivia – that Laffing Sal is the one at Santa Monica, not the one at Playland which now resides at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk.) The only movie that rivals Woman on Run for its depiction of San Francisco in the 1950s is The Lineup.
The story is a taut 77 minutes of mouthy Ann Sheridan, the life-or-death manhunt and stellar period San Francisco. Woman on the Run is available on DVD from Netflix and streaming from Amazon Instant Video (free with Amazon Prime).
Ann Sheridan (far left) sasses Robert Keith (far right) in WOMAN ON THE RUN
Occasionally I see a movie SO BAD that it’s entertaining and I add it to my Bad Movie Festival. The latest is An American Hippie in Israel from 1972, which is jaw-droppingly bad and unintentionally hilarious. An American Hippie in Israel has it all – a dreadful screenplay, poor acting and shoddy production values. Fortunately, Grindhouse Releasing rescued An American Hippie in Israel in 2013 so we can add it to the canon of cult classics.
After “bumming around Europe” an American hippie named Mike (Asher Tzarfati) decides to visit Israel. He walks out of the airport and hitches a ride with a young Israeli woman Elizabeth (Lilli Avidan) who has a large convertible. She also has a pad with shag carpet, on which they have sex. The sex happens when he utters the diatribe, “You fools, stop pushing buttons! You fools…fools…fools..” and she jumps him mid-harangue. I predict that, as more people see An American Hippie in Israel, the “fools” monologue will become as popular as the “She’s tearing me apart!” from The Room and “O my God!” from Troll 2. (Part of the “fools speech” can be found at 2:47 of the trailer below.)
Mike and Elizabeth head out across Israel in the convertible and find local Israeli hippies with whom to smoke pot and dance awkwardly. Two more hippies join them on a road trip, the impressively homely Komo (Schmuel Wolf) and comely Françoise (Tsilla Karny). The last half of the movie is set on a rocky “island”, where the two couples, clad in swimsuits or less, camp out, have more sex and go survivalist. Alas, then they get all “Lord of Flies” and it doesn’t end well.
There’s a fair amount of nudity in An American Hippie in Israel, and its cast is noteworthy for the most severe tan lines in cinema history.
AN AMERICAN HIPPIE IN ISRAEL
The oddities include:
an opening credits sequence with a road roller that is mashing down the soil, for some never explained reason;
two murderous guys in black suits and top hats who have been following Mike around the world and pop up randomly; and
some floating objects that are supposed to pass for giant sharks.
But the perhaps An American Hippie in Israel’s moviemaking low-light is a dream sequence that is ACTED (not FILMED) in slo mo. In the dream, Mike is wielding an over-sized hammer to smash two giant computers (the early kind of mainframes with reels of tape) worn by human figures; the audience can tell that Tzarfati is running and swinging the hammer VERY slowly to ape the effects of slow motion photography.
Unsurprisingly, it was the only film credit for director and co-writer Amos Sefer. I saw American Hippie in Israel on Turner Classic Movies, but it is also available streaming from Amazon and Xbox Video. You can purchase the DVD and Blu-ray from Grindhouse Releasing.
Rafael Spregelburd (center, with glasses) in THE FILM CRITIC
In the enjoyable Argentine comedy The Film Critic (El Critico), we meet a glum and judgmental movie critic (Rafael Spregelburd). He’s proud of having not written a rave review in the past two decades and he’s so pretentious that he thinks is French (very nice touch). He lives to pile snark on romantic comedies, a genre that he despises. His editor says, “You are a terrorist of taste!”. He is so negative through-and-through, that he is a pretty miserable person to be around.
Then, he meets (cute) a vital and captivating woman (Dolores Fonzi). To his discomfort, he is pulled into every cliché of a movie romantic comedy (when they kiss for the first time, fireworks even go off in the sky above), and he starts becoming uncharacteristically happy, even giddy.
Writer-director Hernán Gerschuny has created a winning, character-driven comedy. His protagonist’s entire identity is to be unsatisfied by anything and everything. Yet it turns out that he can be hooked by the same joys that he thinks he is above.
The Film Critic is full of references that will delight movie fans – and especially cinephiles, movie critics and movie bloggers! The critic holds forth with a hilarious recounting of rom com conventions (“why are they always running?”). And, of course, the woman that HE meets looks uber cute in a beret, and he races to the airport at the end.
Gerschuny delivers great comic timing. One of the protagonist’s colleagues watches an “experimental short film” (ba dum) “by a Taiwanese director” (ba dum) and then NAMES the director. And THEN he says, “I think he’s got something to say” as it becomes apparent that the “short” is a security video.
All in all, The Film Critic is a satisfying hoot, now available for streaming from Amazon Instant Video, iTunes, Vudu, YouTube and Google Play.
Slow West, which I saw at Cinequest, opens theatrically tomorrow. I suggest that you skip it.
I love Westerns, but Slow West just didn’t work for me. It’s a film of some ambition, and it won an award at Sundance, but the movie kept sliding in and out of self-consciousness, and I could never settle in to the story.
Kodi Smitt-McGee plays a sixteen-year-old Scot completely unsuited for survival in the Old West. Nonetheless, he is devoted to a young woman and he launches a determined quest to track her down. He soon picks up a veteran Westerner (Michael Fassbender) who can guide and guard him. The two, of course, have a series of adventures along the way.
There’s some appealingly dark and droll humor in Slow West (quite a few good laughs, actually). The problem is that Slow West can’t figure out whether it should have the tone of a straight Western (Unforgiven, The Homesman) or wink at the audience (Little Big Man). Accordingly, some of the period details are so wrong that they distracted me from the story. For example, in an otherwise very funny scene with arrows and a clothesline, the Indians look like tiny, skinny Asians. Smitt-McGee employs a Scots accent in every fifth line. And Fassbender sounds like he just stepped out of a time machine from 2015.
Slow West was filmed in New Zealand, so there are grand vistas that kind of look like the American West, but then kinda don’t. This DID work for me, because it contributed an almost subconscious edge to heighten some scenes.
The great character actor Richard Jenkins has the role of his career in The Visitor– a man who deals with loss by isolating himself. He becomes intrigued with an illegal Middle Eastern immigrant, then develops a bond and then reclaims passion into his life.
The Visitor is available on DVD from Netflix and streaming from Amazon Instant Video, iTunes, Vudu, YouTube, Google Play ad Xbox Video.
Sam Elliiott and Blythe Danner in I’LL SEE YOU IN MY DREAMS
The gentle, thoughtful and altogether fresh dramedy I’ll See You in My Dreams is centered on 72-year-old Carol (Blythe Danner), a widow of 21 years living a life of benign routine. Every day, she rises at 6 AM in her modest but nicely appointed LA house, reads by the pool, hosts her gal pals from the nearby retirement community for cards and is in bed by 11 PM to watch TV with her elderly canine companion. It’s not a bad life, but it’s an unadventuresome one.
Then some things happen that give her an opportunity to choose to take some chances. In short order, she has to put down her dog and deal with an unwelcome rodent. Her friends (Rhea Perlman, June Squibb and Mary Kay Place) suggest that she try speed dating. She opens her social life, developing a friendship with a much younger man (Martin Starr – Gilfoyle in Silicon Valley) and being courted by a dashing man of her own age (Sam Elliott).
What happens is sometimes funny, sometimes sad and always authentic. This is NOT a formulaic geezer comedy, but a story about venturing outside one’s comfort zone – with all the attendant vulnerability – to seek some life rewards. Carol may be 72, but she is still at a place in her life where she can grow and be challenged. I’ll See You in My Dreams proves that coming of age films are not just for the young.
I saw I’ll See You in My Dreams at the Camera Cinema Club, at which director, editor and co-writer Brett Haley was interviewed. Haley said that he and co-writer Marc Basch wanted to “avoid the obvious joke of older people doing what younger people do”. Instead, they intended to make a movie “about love, loss and that you can’t get through life unscathed – and that’s okay”. Haley and Basch certainly succeeded in creating a film about “living life without the fear of loss”.
Danner sparkles in the role (and gets to nail a karaoke rendition of Cry Me a River). Always special when playing solid-valued but rascally guys, Elliott still retains his magnetism.
We don’t often get to see realistic movies about people in their early 70s, but I’ll See You in My Dreams respects its protagonist Carol by putting her in plausible situations. Neither farcical nor mawkish, I’ll See You in My Dreams is a surefire audience pleaser. Now playing in New York and Los Angeles, I’ll See You in My Dreams opens this coming weekend in San Francisco and May 29 in San Jose.
