September 2003

• American Splendor (9/12, YSC)--Paul Giamatti has been doing excellent work in small quirky parts for years, and it’s great to see him get the chance to carry a film as good as this one, about reality-comic book writer (but not illustrator!) Harvey Pekar. I foresee an editing Oscar nomination for the brilliant interweaving of at least three different realities.
• Robot Stories (9/19, YSC [Film Fest New Haven])--Greg Pak, the filmmaker, has contributed shorts to several other FFNHs, and this is essentially a quartet of shorts united by the theme of interaction between machines and humans. Like much of Pak’s work, it’s smart but ultimately weighed down by sentiment. [70]
• The Technical Writer (9/19, YSC [FFNH])--The film that asks the question, "Didn’t Tatum O’Neal used to be able to act?" A very hip, ostensibly dark and sexy film that offers less than meets the eye (though what meets the eye is very good--a very well shot film). This got the jury prize as best feature, and that in itself is something of a comment on FFNH.
• OT: Our Town (9/20, YSC [FFNH])--A remarkable documentary I wouldn’t have known to see but for a rave by David Ansen in Newsweek a few weeks ago. Two teachers at a school in Compton put on a play, the school’s first in more than 20 years, and they choose the Thornton Wilder chestnut, which seemingly has nothing to do with their inner-city black and Hispanic students’ lives. The film shows us the students’ initial resistance, their struggle to make the material their own, and their struggles with their images of themselves as opening night approaches and their doubts remain. Just a gripping, thrilling film.
• The Event (9/20, YSC [FFNH])--Starring Olympia Dukakis and featuring Parker Posey, this is one of the few films shown at the festival that will get fairly wide play--I saw the trailer for it at the Quad on one of my M4s. In fact, I saw the trailer twice in two hours, and the first time, I thought, "Yes, absolutely," and the second time I thought, "Could be awfully sentimental." What it actually turned out to be was a beautifully made, sinfully cynical and simplistic film. What can be worse than having the side you’re on in an argument--in this case, about the right to assisted suicide--make the argument in such a slick and dishonest way as to give the other side ammunition. Nothing at the festival made me angrier.
• Justice (9/21, YSC [FFNH])--An odd film, fairly good, certainly by standards of this festival, and unusually honest and sympathetic in its airing of impulses often unfairly linked with the right wing--admiration for "real heroes," like cops and firemen--but in the end a victim to its very open-mindedness, I think, as it leaves you wondering where it stands and seems to suggest that having a pretty woman inexplicably fall for you is the best way to get over wanting revenge for 9/11. An enlightening look inside the comic book biz.
• High School (9/21, Whitney Humanities Center [FFNH])--A special showing of Frederick Wiseman’s remarkable 1968 documentary, which would have changed my life had I seen it in high school. Wiseman uses no voiceover commentary, but what he chooses to film makes it pretty clear that he views this white, middle-class high school as a place where the goal is to cajole every bit of individuality and skepticism out of our next generation of men in the gray flannel suit. A chilling horror film.
• The Animation Show (9/21, YSC [FFNH])--This collection by Mike Judge and FFNH veteran Don Hertzfeld came straight from a run at Film Forum, and it was a strong end to a lackluster festival, though some of the pieces left me cold. The most hilarious piece was something by Hertzfeld that FFNH showed several years ago called "Rejected," in which the animator’s 2d-grade-level drawing (think early Matt Groening, but not as sophisticated) is scripted with absurdist lines like "My spoon is too big," "I’m a banana," and my personal favorite, "My anus is bleeding." Well, I guess you had to be there. In the past, shorts have been the festival’s strengths, but aside from a marathon program contributed by the Boston Underground Film Festival, I saw only a handful of memorable shorts, a lot of mediocrity, and a few genuine stinkers. Certainly the most thought-provoking was a documentary called "Nigger or Not," which explored the question of whether the word is ever acceptable, regardless of context. That was followed by a very interesting panel presentation, whose only weakness was a lack of any articulate voice to make the case for the black-on-black use of the word as a term of endearment and all-purpose epithet. Still, it was a good thing for a middle-class honky to be a part of. The best non-BUFF short I saw was the only one in a program of seven that was worth a damn. It was called "The Vest," and it was about a young girl whose prized garment is a reversible vest made by her mother--prized until a "friend" at school teases her that the garment is home-made and thus no good. The 10-minute film is warm without being sentimental, funny without shortchanging its serious issue; the young actress nails the no-win irony of the situation perfectly. A beautiful film. The funniest short I saw preceded the cynical The Event: "Cry for Bobo." Its premise is that clowns are a despised minority group--so it is working a serious issue, but it doesn’t get bogged down in it. Desperate, Bobo turns to crime--but naturally, clownish, pointless crime. Much of the humor is based on the absurdity that the clowns, who always appear in full makeup, are able to disguise themselves to avoid apprehension. And the tragic showdown ends when the police gun Bobo down after he brandishes a gun--which of course shoots only a scroll that says "bang." Several of the BUFF shorts were good, but I’m tired, and after all, those weren’t really FFNH selections anyway. Tell you what: if you have a chance to see any shorts, run some titles past me & I’ll tell you whether any sound familiar.
• Anything Else (9/27, Orange)--Here’s something I hadn’t done for a while at a new Woody Allen movie: laugh out loud. The first and biggest guffaw came when Jason Biggs’s character says to Allen’s, "Obviously, you’re not familiar with analysis." Unfortunately, Woody isn’t the star, and when he’s not on the screen, the film is far more annoying than amusing.
• Lost in Translation (9/28, Orange)--OK, once and for all let’s forgive Sofia Coppola for Godfather Part III; she’s not an actor, OK? She’s a director, and here she has directed a perfect definition of "bittersweet." Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson are perfect as the impossibly mismatched never-to-be lovers, and both do their best and most effective work with silence and their faces. A beautiful film, one of my favorites of the year.