Listen Up Again: The Talkies Return With Guy Maddin

Next up, The Saddest Music in the World, June 18, 2009

Back in February, Jacksonville transplant Tim Massett brought John Cameron Mitchell to town for the first Minneapolis installment of The Talkies, his great idea to bring directors into the theater for live commentary about their celebrated films. That showing of Hedwig and the Angry Inch at the Heights Theatre was sold out, and also featured a rendition of the film's soundtrack played on the mighty Wurlitzer Organ. Judging by the trailer for the second installment on June 18, Guy Maddin's The Saddest Music in the World, the organ playing will only add to the surreal 1930's atmosphere.

I still regret missing Maddin's highly acclaimed My Winnipeg last year, so I hope to make this one and check out a filmmaker that by all accounts is one of the most creative in the business. The Saddest Music in the World is only five years old, but it appears to be more like 75 years old.

The opening of Roger Ebert's 3.5/4 star review: "So many movies travel the same weary roads. So few imagine entirely original worlds. Guy Maddin's "The Saddest Music in the World" exists in a time and place we have never seen before..."

And the end of the same review: "To see this film, to enter the world of Guy Maddin, is to understand how a film can be created entirely by its style, and how its style can create a world that never existed before, and lure us, at first bemused and then astonished, into it."

Check it out on June 18, and plan on buying your tickets in advance.

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From The Talkies website:

It may be cliché but what better way to ease our financial-minded woes than to gather round the silver screen to witness Baroness Lady Helen-Port Huntley’s contest to end all contests: who can produce THE SADDEST MUSIC IN THE WORLD?

Blowing in from the northerly diabolic region known as Winnipeg, Guy Maddin’s live commentary marks The Talkies’ 5th installment. Uniquely gifted to push this nascent notion into uncharted waters Maddin, the maniac behind the expanded viewing spectacles such as Branded Upon the Brain and the beautiful essay My Winnipeg, innately understands how special the space in the cinema can be and will, on June 18th, transform The Heights Theatre into the best Talkies experience yet.

Arrive at 7p.m. on Thursday, June 18th for a 35mm screening of THE SADDEST MUSIC IN THE WORLD starring Isabella Rossellini and Mark McKinney (of Kids in the Hall fame) . At 9:00p.m. this celluloid salvo screens again with the extra somethin' somethin' that only The Talkies provides: live commentary from Guy Maddin himself.

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7:00p.m. MOVIE ONLY - $7 advance, $8 at the door

9:00p.m. MADDIN TALKIES - $18.50 in advance, $22 at the door

Depression Special (BOTH SHOWS) - $20

Taking It Home: War Child

Emmanuel Jal's magnetic personality has captured the camera's attention for more than 20 years...

"Just about anybody you talk to in Southern Sudan, they have a mind-boggling story to tell. And had you lived through a quarter of it, you would be on your analyst's couch - weekly, for the rest of your life. They have lived through hell." - Ben Parker, Former UN Spokesman for Sudan, interviewed in War Child

In the fall of 2005, I was paging through the Arts section of my Sunday New York Times when this article by Will Hermes grabbed my attention. It was a profile about an aspiring rapper and former child soldier named Emmanuel Jal, hailing not from the tough streets of a marginalized American city, but from the unimaginably horrifying war zone of southern Sudan. Being both an armchair activist on the crisis in Darfur and a fan of socially conscious hip-hop, I found Jal's story shocking, depressing, and absolutely fascinating.

The article referenced his upcoming debut album, “Ceasefire”, which I immediately ordered from Amazon.com. Several days later I received a plastic disc that took me to a world full of eclectic sounds, languages, beats, harmonies, melodies, and instruments; a place where you wanted to simultaneously dance, cheer, and cry (his hit single "Gua" still breaks me up to this day). I shared Jal's story and music with friends and family, but nobody latched on with as much enthusiasm as me. (I almost jumped out of my seat when Jal's song "Baai" pumped through the theater speakers during Blood Diamond, and then again, recently, in What Are We Doing Here?.)

Undeterred, I dove deeper into the story of Sudan (outside of Darfur, about which I was already "aware"), watching documentaries about the Lost Boys, reading books (including the popular "What Is the What?" and the maligned "A Long Way Gone"), and attending lectures and screenings. The story became even more fascinating as I connected the dots and began to understand why the situation in Africa's largest country is so difficult to address on so many different levels. Deborah Scroggins' 2003 book, "Emma's War", was particularly helpful and, as a bonus, positively riveting (a Tony Scott-directed, Nicole Kidman-starring film adaptation has thankfully been delayed due to a request from the subject's family).

The book tells the story of Emma McCune, a British aid worker from an upper-class family who, in her early 20's, went to Sudan and eventually ended up marrying one of the highest-ranking Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA) commanders, Riek Machar, who is currently the Vice President of the autonomous region of Southern Sudan. In 1993, at the age of 29, a pregnant McCune was killed in a car accident in Nairobi, though not before she took a former child soldier named Emmanuel Jal under her wing and enrolled him in a local school (like I said, the connections are fascinating). Jal soon began to attract attention for his musical and rhyming talents, and his rising popularity in Nairobi eventually led to the release of "Ceasefire", worldwide tours, and international acclaim.

All of this eventually led me to C. Karim Chrobog's documentary, War Child, which I haven't yet discussed because of the context required to understand the full story it tells. For most people, War Child will be their first introduction to Emmanuel Jal, so I've simply attempted to provide some background information that, while addressed in the film, also explains my personal interest in it. War Child won the Audience Choice award at the 2008 Tribeca Film Festival, and its producers were kind enough to send me a screener recently since the film never received a wide theatrical release.

Opening with footage from Jal's visit to the Kakuma Refugee Camp where he spent part of his childhood, War Child gives a very brief historical overview of the devastating war in Sudan that took Jal's family from him - his father joined the SPLA, his mother was killed. Along with hundreds of other young boys, Jal walked to a refugee camp in Ethiopia, where they were trained as soldiers by the SPLA and essentially brainwashed into seeking revenge for what had happened to their families.

One of the most incredible moments in War Child comes during this time, when we actually see footage of a young Jal living in the training camp. The U.N. and National Geographic were sent to monitor the conditions there, and as a born leader, Jal was the peer-selected spokesperson for the group. He couldn't disclose the fact that they were being trained as soldiers, so most of the interviews are light questions about hope for the future. "I want a day that I can just live, so I can build my house where there aren't any problems that can destroy it," says Jal as he sits in his hut.

It's a potent, poignant moment, not only because we know that 20 years later he has achieved that dream, but also because we know that thousands of young child soldiers are still in the same situation today. So many people still living this nightmare, but even in Sudan, as John Prendergast of The Enough Project bluntly states in a conversation with Jal, "counter-terrorism trumps everything" as far as the West is concerned. Because the regime in Sudan is one of our strongest allies in the War on Terror, we'll just have to let the atrocities continue - so long as it's their terror, and not our terror.

Interspersed throughout the film we see clips of Jal in the present day, performing in concert, visiting schools, meeting with legislators, and eventually returning to Sudan for the first time in 15 years. He's a charming, handsome adult with a thousand-watt smile, and if you saw him strolling on the National Mall in an Abercrombie & Fitch hoodie (an outrageous irony that leaves me speechless), you'd have no idea what he's seen and experienced in his life. Speaking in front of a group of legislative staffers, he admits he doesn't actually know when he was born, but guesses he is in his mid to late 20's. An awkward, rueful silence falls until he jokes, "If you have a friend, tell her I'm available."

Because of this charm, and perhaps in spite of it, his story moves many in his audiences to tears. It may seem as if people are simply drawn to Jal's music out of pity or a bleeding heart sympathy, but anyone who listens to what he's saying will appreciate it for his positive message. Instead of dwelling on the tragedies of his past, for example, he delicately answers a group of American students asking he killed anyone in Sudan by performing a song and inviting them up to dance with him. "It's honest, it's no bitches, no blings, no hos - I hope people leave here and talk about it," says one new fan after a performance by Jal.

I'll admit that listening to his music requires patience and the understanding that he's usually not speaking in his native language (at least not on "WARchild"). As such, his wordplay and verbal dexterity in English isn't as impressive as other critically acclaimed artists, but what he lacks in panache he more than makes up for in purpose. While "Ceasefire" was a genuine, gentle plea for peace, Jal's latest album (also titled "WARchild") is a beaming, buoyant declaration of identity. Alternating bright, hopeful beats ("Baaki Wara") with tragic remembrances of his fallen friends ("Forced to Sin"), Jal also gets political this time, paying tribute to Hurricane Katrina victims on "Ninth Ward" ("America the Great became American the Clowned/While Americans drowned), and even calling out 50 Cent for his glorification of street violence and the effect it has on young boys.

Though catchy, these last two songs don't feel nearly as honest as his anguish on "Vagina": "It's unfair/when it comes to Africa, the world don't care...Pimps and thieves in Italian cars, suits/stop raping Africa like she's your prostitute...So Mr. Oil, Diamond and Gold miner/stop treating Mama Africa like a vagina." It's envelope-pushing, to be sure, but certainly convicting considering what Jal has been through. For that matter, just as powerful are Jal's impassioned, determined lyrics in songs like "Many Rivers to Cross" and "Stronger", where he declares, "I pledge allegiance to my motherland/That I'll do everything possible to make her stand."

"I believe I've survived/For a reason/To tell my story, to touch lives" - lyrics to "Warchild"

If you get the sense that I'm reviewing Jal's album more than Chrobog's film, it's because the power of the music is the essence of War Child, as well as the reason Emmanuel Jal became a subject of a film in the first place. I wouldn't recommend War Child as a primer for those hoping to learn about the background of the conflict in Sudan, but as an introduction to the life of this particular "war child", Emmanuel Jal, it's both illuminating and indelible.

Witnessing Jal visit his family for the first time in 15 years, you can't help but think about that kind of separation that exists in so many war-torn regions. Families completely shattered in an instant, not knowing if they will ever see each other again, and often never finding out. It's an idea that is unimaginable to me, and the fact that it happens with such frequency to this day is horrifying. But Jal takes it in stride, celebrating the safety of his sister and cherishing the adoration from his elderly grandmother, while also trying to reconcile the distance he still feels from his father. What makes this family reunion particularly moving is that Chrobog puts it toward the end of the film, when Jal also visits Emma's grave in Sudan. After hearing, reading, and now watching his story over the last few years, his visit back to his home country makes the people and places that shaped him much more real to his fans.

And this authenticity, credibility, substance - isn't it a welcome sight? There are no politicians, Hollywood celebrities, models, or pop stars (even Bono, bless his heart). In War Child, there is only Emmanuel Jal: a resilient voice of Africa, a dedicated voice for Africa.

Visit the official War Child website
Visit the War Child MySpace page
Check for (and request) an upcoming screening of War Child near you
Visit Emmanuel Jal's official website
Donate to Emmanuel Jal's Gua Africa and help him build Emma Academy
Read "Emma's War" by Deborah Scroggins

Buy the DVD or download a licensed copy of War Child

Buy Emmanual Jal's albums and book on Amazon.com:
Ceasefire (2005)
WARchild (2008)
"War Child: A Child Soldier's Story" (Published Feb. 2009)


Support other organizations working to end the use of child soldiers, including:
Coalition to Stop the Use of Child Soldiers
Human Rights Watch
Invisible Children
The Enough Project
Amnesty International USA

Geta Makeover

As you can see, I've made a couple of noticeable changes to my template for the first time since I started this blog over 18 months ago. It's not as drastic as I originally had in mind (that would have taken a lot more work), but it's fresh enough for now. Yes, that is my eye, and yes, it's kind of creepy. It's meant to represent me translating what I personally see in the movies, but at first it looks like I'm just staring into your soul.

Anyway, I've realized I have an intense loyalty to a two column, left sidebar template, and that quirk, along with the fact that I'm using Blogger, limits my design options significantly. I'm still working out the kinks ("Discuss"/Recent Comments isn't working correctly right now), but I think about 90% of links, feeds, and embedded content are OK. The rest I'll figure out, and this is going to be a work in progress anyway because I'm sure it's one of those things where once you start tooling around it's impossible to stop.

And just to spell out the banner, if it isn't obvious why "the movie experience shouldn't end in the theater":

Film -> Watch -> Think -> Discuss -> Apply

Thanks for your patience, and for reading.

REVIEW: Tulpan (A-)

(Tulpan plays in exclusive engagement at the Walker Art Center this Friday-Sunday, May 8-10. Tickets)

If there is a place on Earth that looks as unforgiving as Minnesota in January, it is the Kazakh Steppe as seen in Sergei Dvortsevoy's Tulpan, an astonishing film and winner of the Un Certain Regard Award at the 2008 Cannes Film Festival. Framed as a romantic tragicomedy but witnessed more like a documentary, Tulpan features scenes that are absorbing and amazing, engrossing and, well, gross (if seeing shepherds give CPR to their newborn flock right out of the womb isn't a daily occurrence in your life). I've never seen or even heard of any of Dvortsevoy's other films, but with the armful of awards he's won for Tulpan (and its selection as Kazakhstan's Oscar submission last year), it's unlikely he'll have a hard time attracting attention in the future.

After completing his service in the Russian Navy, Asa (Askhat Kuchencherekov) heads to the Kazakh Steppe to live with his sister, her husband, Ondas (Ondas Besikbasov), and their three adorable children. Eager to begin his adult life and his own family, Asa attempts to court Tulpan, the only young woman on the Steppe. Despite his attempts to win over her parents with tall tales of the sea, Tulpan rejects Asa because his ears are too big, leaving him stunned, dejected, and desperate. "What could I've said wrong, he frustratingly asks his sister back in the yurt. "I described the octopus' weak point, and the sawfish".

The comedy in Tulpan is as dry as the film's climate, and earnest scenes like that one illustrate that life in the Steppe is often like life anywhere else. Despite what would appear to be a lifestyle where most choices are limited, the characters still struggle with decisions and confusion about marriage, jobs, locations, and relationships. Much of their inner turmoil is mirrored by awe-inspiring weather phenomena (dust tornadoes, lightning storms), but the characters in Tulpan are not unstable people, just humble, hard-working people living in an unstable place.

Only the most determined souls can survive in a place like this, and Asa is nothing if not stubborn in his quest to win over Tulpan and secure his own flock of sheep. His best friend (who seems a bit out of place here, almost like a character from a Judd Apatow movie) tries to persuade Asa to move with him to the city. Ondas gives Asa a hard time for being a "city boy" who's not made out for living on the Steppe. Tulpan's parents are completely unimpressed with Asa, and they hide her away so he doesn't even know what she looks like. Everything is telling Asa to give up this idyllic dream, but he just won't bend.

Whether or not you'll have the patience to struggle through this plight with Asa is questionable, but if not there is still some magnificent scenery to be seen in Tulpan. Each frame is packed with eye-catching details, and what the camera captures is often more impressive than how it's captured. You may have seen infinite desert vistas before, but some of these weather patterns and animal behaviors look like never-before-seen footage from an episode of "Planet Earth". A sheep-birthing scene in particular is both squirm-inducing and tear-inducing because we know how much the healthy lamb means to Asa.

In the end, Tulpan is a love story that's been well worn by filmmakers over the years. But although the story may be familiar, I can assure that you probably haven't seen it take place in a culture or climate like this. As Tulpan tenderly illustrates, a common humanity is often most easily found in an uncommon environment.

Grade:
Writing - 9
Acting - 9
Production - 10
Emotional Impact - 9
Music - 4
Social Significance - 5

Total: 46/50= 92% = A-

Quick Plug: Global Film Initiative "Wing It!" Contest

About a month ago, the fine folks at the Global Film Initiative contacted me to help promote a new film contest they recently launched in partnership with Virgin America airlines. Considering this contest started a month ago, I've really done a terrible job. But six weeks still remain, so it's not too late to get in on it.

If you don't know about the Global Film Initiative, their mission statement is to "promote cross-cultural understanding through the medium of cinema," which obviously makes my mission statement, "promote and celebrate everything the Global Film Initiative does", from their Global Lens film series to their Bluescreen educational program to their new quarterly contest, "Wing It!".

Before sharing the details about the contest, let me take the opportunity to point you to my reviews of some Global Lens films:

Global Lens 2008:
El Custodio (The Custodian)
Hava Aney Dey (Let the Wind Blow)

Global Lens 2009:
Mutum
Song from the Southern Seas

Now, self promotion out of the way, let's get to the exciting news and the reason I'm writing this in the first place - the contest...

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Overview: Wing It! is a quarterly arts and culture student contest created by the Global Film Initiative and sponsored by Virgin America airlines. The contest challenges students to submit creative videos, essays and multimedia presentations on global culture, and is open to high school and college students in the U.S. and Canada.

Contest: Be a Tour Guide

Ever wondered what it's like to live in Ethiopia? Always wanted to see Ireland? Interested in exploring the world? If you answered "yes," you're like most people and, unfortunately, just like most people, visiting and living in all these places isn't always possible. School, jobs, family, money — everyone has a reason why they never made that trip Egypt, or missed the plane to Micronesia.

But sometimes those "faraway" places you dream about are actually right in your backyard. Most major cities in the U.S. have a Chinatown, some even have a Little India. If you visit Queens you might think you're in Central America and if you head to Boston, the luck of the Irish will be upon you. Visit Seattle and at some point you'll probably run into what is rumored to be the largest Ethiopian population in the world outside Ethiopia.

Here's what we want you to do. Instead of getting on a plane and rushing off to discover the world, show us the world that's right in your own city. Take a video camera, be a tour guide and tell us about an ethnic community and culture that's in your city. Dig deep into your own local haunts to show us that "faraway land" that's actually not so far away. Think you can do that?

How To Enter

• Create a video between 5–10 minutes in length
• You must be in the video (i.e. you are the host or tour guide!)
• The video must focus on only (1) ethnic community & culture
• You can't just use your family or school as the subject — go out and explore a local community!
• Read the Official Rules for details, then fill out this entry form and send it with a CD or DVD of your video to:

The Global Film Initiative
Attn: Wing It!
145 Ninth Street
Suite 105
San Francisco, CA 94103

Simple enough. You have until June 15th at midnight PST to submit your video. If our judges think yours is the best of the bunch, you'll get two free airline tickets to any destination Virgin America flies and your video will be featured on our education website, Bluescreen!

Prizes

The first place winner will receive (2) non–refundable tickets to anywhere Virgin America flies and be featured on the Global Film Initiative website, the Bluescreen website and in our newsletter. Second and third place winning videos will also be featured on Bluescreen. Winners will be announced by June 30, 2009.

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Now, good news, bad news, and worst news. Good news is that I've heard Virgin America is an awesome airline to fly (check this out), though I've never done so because they don't stop here. Bad news is that it appears the winner will only be able to fly domestically, and not on Virgin Atlantic, which is a different arm altogether of Richard Branson's empire. Worst news is, I'm not a high school or college student, so I can't participate in this anyway.

But if you are, get to work! (And if you aren't, check out the Global Lens 2009 films on their way around the country.)

Underrated MOTM: Breakdown (1997)

Since I've enjoyed some really solid European suspense thrillers over the last month at MSPIFF, I've jumped back to the 90's again to find a decent American one for April's (belated) Underrated Movie of the Month (MOTM). Jonathon Mostow's Breakdown, which opened 12 years ago this week, is a flawed but ultimately well-crafted and nerve-wracking film. To be honest, it's stayed with me primarily because of the theater experience I had while watching it (kind of a long story), but after seeing parts of it again I remembered its horrifying premise and gripping delivery.

Not that it's really considered a dud, but mostly positive reviews aside, shouldn't we appreciate it and movies like it more during this absolute drought of American thrillers? Over the last two years, for example, every first-tier No Country for Old Men or Zodiac, or second-tier Transsiberian or Gone Baby Gone, is outnumbered by an Eagle Eye, Vantage Point, 88 Minutes, Righteous Kill, or Untraceable, to name just a few. That I've seen none of those last five is, well, the point. American directors and studios are in far too deep with remakes, sequels, and "reboots" to think of anything new, while across the pond there's a seemingly constant stream of quality suspense. But this is really another rant for another time. The point is, Breakdown deserves credit for being, flaws aside, one of the last decent thrillers of the 90's, when filmmakers attempted to make original stories and plot twists were patiently paced (one of my favorite movies, A Simple Plan, being another example of this).

The story is simple: Jeff and Amy Taylor (Kurt Russell and Kathleen Quinlan) are a married couple moving from Massachusetts to San Diego. Somewhere in the desolate desert of the Southwest, their new Jeep Cherokee breaks down. A friendly trucker (J.T. Walsh) stops and offers to help. He agrees to take Amy to a local diner to call a tow truck while Jeff waits with the car. Problem is, Amy never comes back, and when Jeff eventually finds the diner and the trucker, everybody plays dumb, claiming they've never seen him or his now-missing wife.

Although it was accused of being too similar to The Vanishing (which I haven't seen) and Deliverance, some of the criticism of Breakdown was surprisingly harsh. James Bernadelli ripped Jonathon Mostow for his"pedestrian direction and unoriginal script," complaining that "its increasingly-preposterous turns come across as laughable." He went on to call Breakdown "a long, drawn-out bore...if this movie was a car, it would have been hauled off to the junk yard." Jonathan Rosenbaum in the Chicago Reader was even less forgiving, attacking the film on moral grounds for "turning people into garbage...Breakdown has plenty of deft action sequences, and what they add up to is nifty garbage disposal, with all of us--characters, filmmakers, viewers--ultimately spiraling down the same drain." Ouch, guys.

Getting more specific, Stephen Hunter complained in the Washington Post that Kurt Russell's "lack of energy afflicts the film as much as its director's lack of ideas". He goes on about Russell repeatedly: "He does a lot of running around while making desperate faces, but he never projects a sense of deep rage. He never gets dangerous." So driving his car into a river, choking and stabbing a guy and then wielding and firing a gun is child's play? Russell's performance is wholly unappreciated and pitch perfect. There are few actors who can play calm, charming, paranoid, desperate, and enraged, all while toughing out some impressive stunts. Also, after rewatching those parts of Breakdown I appreciated how well Russell simply played a loving husband doing everything in his power to save his wife.

As Red, the evil trucker, J.T. Walsh also gives a controlled, creepy performance. It would be the last film Walsh would see released before his death from a heart attack in February of 1998, and it was a perfect example of his sleazy style. I'm sure Walsh was a nice guy in real life, but man, what a track record of nasty characters.

This solid acting in a Hitchcockian, innocent-guy-seeking-retribution story makes Breakdown a movie you can't turn away from. I don't know why this movie doesn't show up on cable more often, and I can only lament the fact that American directors seem uninterested in making suspense thrillers like it these days. The closest they come are, of course, remakes, such as the recently announced American remake of last year's Tell No One. As it's likely that will be terrible, do yourself a favor and just rent Breakdown instead. It's elementary, pretty predictable, and not altogether perfect. But it's well-executed and tense, and you'll never drive through an empty desert again without thinking about it.

REVIEW: Goodbye Solo (A-)

"A Pakistani guy, a couple of Hispanic kids, a Senegalese guy, even William, who feels even more like an outsider in Winston-Salem than Solo—that’s a huge part of the meaning. These are three American films by an American director named, Ramin Bah-what? Starring who? Yeah, these are three American films starring three American people made by an American guy. And if you don’t believe it, look at the last election."

- Ramin Bahrani in an interview in Reverse Shot, Issue 23

Despite the general consensus that "change" in America arrived on January 20th, 2009, Ramin Bahrani has done his best in Man Push Cart, Chop Shop, and now Goodbye Solo to show us that change actually arrived quite a while ago, not evidenced by the person in the White House but the person in the house down the block from you. He's attempted to expose us to the "new" America, the immigrant America, the Bahrani America, and insofar as I'm the only member of my family born here, my America, too.

That's one way to look at Bahrani's films, and it can lead to effusive, perhaps blindingly positive praise on my part, or wary, perhaps unfair charges of "immigrant chic" on the part of others (I really appreciated the conversation, Fox). To the extent that Goodbye Solo is made in the same general style as his last two films and showcases the same general characters, the same general praise and criticism may be applied.

But I think another way to view Bahrani's films, particularly Goodbye Solo, is to remove the immigrant factor and simply examine the relationships between the characters (which Bahrani himself did for nearly an hour following its premiere at the Walker on April 3rd, and then even longer to the people who wanted to personally chat with him). The relationships in Goodbye Solo are unlikely and unbelievable until you realize, on further examination, that they are completely likely and surprisingly believable. Yes, Bahrani again finds hope in the bleakness that many filmmakers celebrate, but what's so great about bleakness anyway?

Solo (Souleymane Sy Savane, nicknamed "Solo" in real life) is a Senegalese cab driver in Winston-Salem, North Carolina (Bahrani's hometown). From his incessant chattering, scanning eyes, and flirtatious banter with the cab dispatcher, we know that he is a lively, spontaneous, happy-go-lucky guy: a male version of Poppy Cross, as well as the stereotypical foreign-accented cabbie who never knows when to shut up. When he picks up a fare in the form of an obviously suicidal grouch named William (Red West), Solo finds himself flustered to the point of desperation; he'll do and sacrifice anything to persuade his new friend to change his plans. On the surface, this friendship between starry-eyed immigrant and cantankerous misanthrope is right out of Gran Torino. It's a spin-off, the parallel story of Walt Kowalski's war buddy who lives in North Carolina.

But William is not Walt, and Solo is not Thao, and while this relationship is also one based on protection, there's more maturity, intimacy, and respect developing under the surface. The two characters still learn the typical lessons from each other about the importance of family and yada yada yada, but it's window dressing for a story that's essentially about people looking for reasons to live, and ways of living. Over the course of several weeks, Solo has to learn to accept William's plan (for practical purposes as much as anything else since he's supposed to drive him to the jump-off point at Blowing Rock), and William has to learn to accept Solo's care and comfort. They complement each other because they know that the other one has something they don't; Solo experiences William's freedom and independence, William experiences Solo's family. Neither of them know how to access these things without each other.

Ramin Bahrani talked a lot about love in the discussion following Goodbye Solo, particularly how love means giving people permission to make their own decision even if you don't agree with them. That's a nice sentiment and it's well established in the film, but it's not the primary reason I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it because, as A.O. Scott lucidly noted last month, "these people and their situations are nonetheless recognizable, familiar on a basic human level even if their particular predicaments are not."

It's that idea of understanding through vicarious living that inspires me, both between the characters in the film and between the viewers and the characters. The originality and purpose of Bahrani's style can be argued, but I think his motives are pure, his films are honest, and, as evidenced by Goodbye Solo, his voice is consistently refreshing.

Grade:
Writing - 9
Acting - 10
Production - 9
Emotional Impact - 9
Music - 4
Social Significance - 5

Total: 46/50= 92% = A-