48 Hour Film Project: Minneapolis

Sure has been a ghost town around here, but such is my current movie-going reality. I've had something resembling a resurgence lately, however, and a local event this Thursday might be just the tonic for my malaise. Nothing like some actual creativity on a screen to reawaken my mojo for the movies, and there's nothing more creative than producing an original film in 48 hours.

Head to the Riverview Theater this Thursday for the Best Of Screening of the 48 Hour Film Project, an international film competition taking place in 100 cities in 24 countries. Minneapolis, as many know, boasts one of the fiercest city competitions, with dozens of submissions each year.

If you're not familiar, it's this simple: two Friday nights ago, filmmaking teams received the name of a character (this year - a "Driving Instructor" named Les or Lena Olinger), a prop (this year - a magnet), and a line of dialogue (this year - "Tell me about it."). Within 48 hours they had to write, shoot, and edit an original short film. These films screened last week, and this Thursday the best of the bunch will be shown. What do the winners receive? Prizes, of course, but also the prestige that can only come in a rabid local filmmaking community like ours. 

And oh yeah, they also get their film screened at the Cannes Film Festival each May, including 2010's Minneapolis winner, Per Bianca:

I can say from experience that the Best Of Screening is a rollicking good time - do yourself a favor and see the kind of creativity that is utterly lacking in movie theaters week after week!

When: Thursday, June 23rd, at 7:00 PM

Where: The Riverview

Cost: $15

More Info | Minneapolis 48HFP Facebook Page

2011 MSPIFF Journal #3/3

Also: 2011 MSPIFF Journals #'s 1 & 2

Project Nim
Grade: B+
Opens in Minneapolis later this summer

Something was frustrating me throughout Project Nim, and it wasn't the animal cruelty, disturbing as that obviously was. It was the reenactments that were most annoying - dark, bloody scenes inserted throughout the film in an attempt to dramatize the narration and make sure we knew, for example, what it looked like when Nim killed a poodle by throwing it against a wall. Every few minutes, I kept wondering, "This seems familiar - why I am so bothered by these unnecessary but harmless reenactments?". My answer came when the film ended: Directed by James Marsh. Ah, yes, Oscar-winning James Marsh, whose enthralling Man on Wire also suffered mightily from frequently pointless reenacted scenes. As far as I can tell from these two films, Marsh must have zero faith in the storytelling power of his interviews, or the wealth of archival footage at his disposal, or for that matter the patience of the average viewer. It's not enough to have incredibly juicy material with which to work - Marsh has stylize his story like a bad TV police procedural just to keep our attention during an interview with a subject, which, you know, there are a fair amount of in most documentaries. Ugh. Anyway, if you can get past the reenactments - and obviously everyone else in the world easily could for Man on Wire - you'll find Project Nim a haunting examination of science, and also "science", otherwise known as mankind's often nasty way of dealing with other species in this world.

The Bengali Detective

Grade: B+

The first thing I remember hearing about The Bengali Detective, from the news headlines out of Sundance in January, was that the documentary had been picked up for a feature film adaptation. The most recent similar example is the delayed but still simmering adaptation of The King of Kong, so I deduced that the films must have something in common, such as instantly classic characters - real life people who seem too scripted to not be scripted. In this respect The Bengali Detective definitely delivers, but otherwise it's a completely different style of film, for better and for worse. The central focus on Rajesh Ji, an optimistic private investigator, serves as a fascinating foundation from which to consider contemporary Indian society in Kolkata. Between his daily grind on several cases, which range from fake shampoo sales to infidelity to dismemberment and murder, we get a closer look at what motivates him, namely his adorable son and ailing wife (diabetes). And in between all of this, we see Rajesh and his team of investigators don glitter and spandex while earnestly preparing for an audition for a TV dance competition. Needless to say, the film is an emotional rollercoaster, uproariously funny one minute, grotesquely disturbing the next minute, and then heart-stoppingly tragic, before starting all over again. It was a lot to handle and made me wonder if the ending was really as uplifting as it seemed, but it's still hands-down one of the most entertaining documentaries in this early year - and a film adaptation is completely unnecessary.

Stuck Between Stations

Grade: B

I don't know whether to fault Stuck Between Stations for being so stubbornly local or love it for being so stubbornly loyal. It's without question one of the most gushing cinematic tributes to Minneapolis ever put on film; it's not an exaggeration to say it's a movie about a city more than a movie about a story. The story is a gentle retread of Before Sunrise, but with fewer interesting conversations and more needless skyline shots. The performances are actually a highlight, even by Josh Hartnett in a bizarre cameo, and they carry the story through some otherwise tedious scenes. This isn't to say the film is boring or the dialogue empty (quite the opposite), but eventually there's so much navel-gazing and local flavor that it becomes a little stifling. You just want a change of scenery or something foreign or new (kind of like living here at times, but that's a different story). At the end of the day, Stuck Between Stations is a tenderly made film with a lot of heart, even if its Minneapolitan sensibilities may prove to be a bit of a barrier to outsiders truly connecting with it.

300 Words About: Mississippi Damned

Taking its name from the provocative Nina Simone song, Tina Mabry's Mississippi Damned reveals itself as, in essence, an adaptation of the downbeat lyrics:"Lord have mercy on this land of mine/We all gonna get it in due time/I don't belong here/I don't belong there/I've even stopped believing in prayer...Oh but this whole country is full of lies/You're all gonna die and die like flies."

Yeah, this one ain't for the kids.

Written and directed by Mabry (recent recipient of a prestigious United States Artists grant) and based on her own family history, the film is a generation-spanning tale of physical and sexual abuse, poor choices, missed opportunities, poverty and strife, and even sickness and disease. It's all of Shakespeare's tragedies wrapped up in one story, updated and set in the American South. The plot, such as it is, doesn't require much explanation: three sisters and their families live and then relive some truly awful experiences, with only young Kari keeping hope alive that one day she will escape the cycle.

The production values and acting are very impressive for an independently produced film, particularly considering there is more action, movement, and variety of setting than most small films would dare attempt. And, although seemingly every other scene presents itself as ripe for some scene-chewing, Mabry keeps the cast on an even keel. The actors are comfortable in their characters and the scenes mostly develop naturally, lending authentic emotion to the story. Ironically, the overwhelming bleakness that exists as the film's greatest flaw is also the central reason it's so affecting.

Melody Gilbert Movie Marathon, Dec. 3-5

This weekend, six films by revered local documentarian Melody Gilbert will be featured as part of a three-day festival at the Parkway Theater at 48th St. & Chicago Ave. in South Minneapolis. Melody is a terrific filmmaker and a great supporter of local films, so if you're in the area don't miss this special opportunity to see the work of "one of the most fearless filmmakers in contemporary documentary cinema", according to The Documentary Channel.

Ask yourself, when else will you see a movie about wannabe amputees, or getting married at the Mall of America, or people who explore abandoned underground tunnels and buildings, or children who have no sensation of pain? Three of Melody's six films are available on Netflix, but I won't tell you which ones because you should really see them at the theater this weekend. Speaking of which, the Parkway has nicely revived itself over the last few years, and you can bring food and drink from neighboring Pepito's into the theater.

Melody and special guests will be present at each screening. Tickets are available online or at the door (special MG Marathon pass is $25 to see all six films).

Friday, Dec. 3rd

6:00 pm: Disconnected (made with Carleton College students) - TRAILER

7:30 pm: Married at the Mall (w/ new short doc Tami Tushie's Toys) - TRAILER

9:15 pm: Urban Explorers: Into the Darkness - TRAILER

10:30 pm: After-party @ Pepitos w/ half-price apps and 2-for-1 drinks

Saturday, Dec. 4 

3:00 pm: Whole - CLIP

4:30 pm: A Life Without Pain (w/ MN family featured in the film) - TRAILER

Sunday, Dec. 5 

6:00 pm: Fritz: The Walter Mondale Story - TRAILER

Also, next week (not part of the festival): 

Wednesday, Dec. 8th

7:00 pm: Numb (sneak preview/fundraiser) 

Numb is a new documentary about antidepressant addiction and withdrawal that Melody is executive producing (directed by Phil Lawrence). This is a sneak preview/ fundraiser that includes: food from Pepitos, mingling with filmmakers, silent auction and a free ticket to the screening of Urban Explorers at 8:00 pm. Your donation will help finish the final stretch of editing. See the trailer. 

Fall Film Festobonanza, Part 4: Twin Cities Black Film Festival, MPLS Project, & Shamrock Film Festival

What: 8th Annual Twin Cities Black Film Festival

Where: TBA

When: October 15 - 17

What: The Minneapolis Project

Where: The Riverview

When: September 30

What: Shamrock Film Festival

Where: Rosemount

When: October 7 - 9

Even more local movie happenings, as follows:

REVIEW: Prince of Broadway (A)

Writer/director Sean Baker's exceptional first feature, Take Out, is the kind of film that engages your curiosity in a rather distracting way; you feel as if you're watching a lost home video or a guerrilla-style student film. Scenes are unpredictable not necessarily because of complex plot twists (the story could not be simpler), but because at any given moment something in the vicinity of the shooting location, perhaps a stray animal or a loud car, seems certain to interrupt filming.

Was there a proper set? Were these people even actors?  The answer was yes, and no, but if you focused on the production details you'd potentially miss the most important fact of all: Take Out is a brilliant illustration of "a day in the life", of the common experiences of fear, frustration, relief, longing, hope, and countless other emotions that we as humans individually experience but collectively share. (See that film.)

Baker's new film, Prince of Broadway (opening tomorrow in New York and Sep. 24 in L.A.), is a glossier product, longer and more confidently made than Take Out. The sound and cinematography are vastly improved, if not still bound by the limits of a tiny budget, and the blocking is more tightly staged. In short, it's a more professional film, but if Baker has applied more of a sheen to this new product he has lost nothing under the surface, where thoughtful lessons about love, parenting, marriage, and friendship are framed by the unlikeliest of set-ups.

300 Words About: Woman Rebel

Today, the holiday commemorating the life and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., is an ironically fitting occasion to consider first-time filmmaker Kiran Deol's documentary short, Woman Rebel. In just over 30 minutes of often breathtakingly beautiful footage, the film deftly captures the last decade in Nepalese political history, much of which mirrored the civil rights movement led by Dr. King - aside from those oft-ignored tenets of nonviolence (12,000 lives have been claimed by the struggle).

In 1996, a small group of Maoist rebels gathered rural peasants, took up arms, and began a decade long offensive against the Nepalese government (a constitutional monarchy), demanding equal rights for all citizens, regardless of class or gender. Eventually, women grew to comprise 40% of the People's Liberation Army. While the presence of women in the military should not be a surprise to Western viewers, it may be a jarring sight to those not used to seeing women in infantry combat positions, fighting and dying alongside their male counterparts. Tragically, the equality so many Nepalese women sought in life could only be found in death.

On the Horizon: Beyond the Chair

Like most active bloggers, I get a steady stream of emails requesting me to post particular movie news, review particular films, or link to particular websites or blogs. Some of them I follow up on, most of them I do not, either out of lack of time or lack of interest. I was ready to delete an email I received from one Dusty Duprel this week before I realized it wasn't spam and I took a closer look at what he was asking me to do: 

My name is Dusty Duprel, and what I am doing is explained in the letter attached.  As you will soon read, a close friend of mine has a lot depending on spreading this letter. What's not written are the details of how rapidly his health is fading. The reason for leaving out the heart breaking details is that we don't want pity, only to celebrate what he has accomplished. I am writing you in hopes that you will post this on your website or blog for him. 

I read Dusty's letter and was touched both by how genuinely it was written and how strange it was that I, a complete stranger, could in some way help him achieve his goal. Such are the wonders of technology in the 21st century. Of course, this isn't actually about Dusty or blogging, which is why I'm just going to copy the letter directly here for you to read:

300 Words About: Living Arrangements

For movie buffs, there is probably not a more surreal experience than seeing yourself on screen in a film. But seeing your own streets and neighborhood landmarks is a bit of a trip, too. For residents of the Uptown neighborhood where I live in South Minneapolis, Living Arrangements is a charming indie horror comedy with a satirical local flavor that only we can appreciate; for everyone else it's still a charming indie horror comedy.

The debut feature from Minneapolis-based director Sam Thompson, Living Arrangements is a high-concept story about a pair of newly engaged vegans, Sasha (Joe Noreen) and Billie (Alexandra Glad), who move into an Uptown apartment only to find a werewolf living in their attic. It sounds like the kind of bizarre idea you'd come up with joking around with friends at 2:00 AM, but the production is treated with just enough seriousness that by the grisly finale you're actually invested in the characters and you've long forgotten how ridiculous the premise is.

REVIEW: Etienne!

There are two kinds of pet owners in the world: cat and dog owners, and bird/fish/reptile/rodent owners. I've recently joined the ranks of the former, but for a good part of my childhood I was one of the latter. Due to my dad's reluctance to own a dog (he was once bitten by a rabid German shepherd), and due to the time and money required to care for cats and dogs, we had a series of hamsters - adorably soft little dwarf hamsters, more specifically. They live about two years and were a great source of enjoyment and entertainment for our family (I once accidentally sucked one up with the vacuum hose - she survived).

It takes a special kind of person to appreciate dwarf hamsters, and by extension, a special kind of person to appreciate a movie about one. I couldn't believe it when I saw the description for Etienne! in the Flyway Film Festival lineup: "After Richard's best and only friend, a dwarf hamster named Etienne, is diagnosed with terminal cancer, he decides to take him on a bicycle road trip up the California coast to show him the world before he must put him to sleep." I had to see this movie.

REVIEW: Colin

Exactly how do you make a film with a budget of $70 (Yes, that's seventy dollars.)

"We bought a crowbar and a couple of tapes, and I think we got some tea and coffee as well -- not the expensive stuff either, the very basic kind," explained British filmmaker Mark Price in an interview I read on CNN.com last May, when Colin premiered at the Cannes Film Festival. His claim was unbelievable and cheeky - in fact unbelievably cheeky, considering budgets on numerous Hollywood films each year extend into the hundreds of millions of dollars (the recent disaster movie 2012 had a price tag of $260 million). So alhough I'm not a big zombie guy, when Colin popped up on the schedule at the recent Flyway Film Festival, well I just had to see how this played out.

REVIEW: Ink

Is it fair to judge a film based on its bang-for-the-buck value (low budget, high production), and ignore otherwise standard criteria like writing and acting? Is the bar set a little lower for independent films, making the mediocre ones appear good and the good ones appear great?

Your perspective around these two questions will undoubtedly influence your opinion of Ink, the low budget ($250,000) sci-fi fairytale from Jamin Winans that recently played on Opening Night of the Flyway Film Festival. It's been receiving a healthy supply of positive buzz from Ain't It Cool News and Film School Rejects, and the filmmaker's comparisons of the film to Donnie Darko, The Matrix, and especially Pan's Labyrinth are justified.

But the problem with comparisons to those critically acclaimed hits is that if the film in question doesn't measure up to them (and Ink does not, in my opinion), it's maybe better not to mention the similarities at all - like hearing somebody can dance like Michael Jackson and then finding out they can't even moonwalk.

Flyway Film Festival: Colore Non Vedenti

Colore Non Vedenti
Jay Cheel, 2009 (Official Website)
Run time: 29 min.  |  Canada 
Categories: International Zombie Summit

When you spend as much time as I do reading and writing about movies, names of critics and bloggers and freelance writers often blend together in an incomprehensible mish-mash (by some definition I could be considered all three, for example). So when I saw the name Jay Cheel listed as the director of Colore Non Vedenti, the wheels in my head started turning - where had I seen that name? About ten seconds of searching provided me with the answer, as I've read a lot of Jay's writing at both Film Junk and, much more so, The Documentary Blog.

This all means nothing in the context of the charming Colore Non Vedenti, aside from perhaps proof that Jay can make films just as well as he can write about them. This sci-fi "zombie" thriller comedy (it kind of defies labeling) is well-written, assuredly directed, and impressively acted. It's evidence that low-budget does not mean low-quality, making it a perfect companion to the Cannes zombie hit Colin (reportedly made for $70), with which it will screen at Flyway.

Flyway Film Festival: Reviews of Selected Shorts

I've really only come to appreciate short films in the last few years, almost entirely because of the theatrical screenings of the Oscar nominees every February. In fact I think I'd rather watch La Maison en Petits Cubes, last year's Oscar winner for Best Animated Short, again than the much-lauded Up (which I nonetheless did like). Anyway, my point is that shorts aren't the amateur and/or unimportant productions I may have once thought they were; many filmmakers even make a career out of short films.

There is an almost overwhelmingly high number of shorts playing at the Flyway Film Festival this weekend, and I've been fortunate to get a peek at several of them. Unfortunately one of them that I was really excited for, Surprise!, didn't play in my region-limited DVD player, so I can't say anything about it other than that it sounds like a promisingly boffo French comedy: "As an attentive husband, Pierre has prepared a surprise for his wife Brigitte's birthday, but a series of harmless incidents (like a draft, a sun beam reflected off a window) brings the next door neighbor into his bed just as Brigitte walks through the door." Maybe not high-minded comedy, but if handled the right way these set-ups can be hilarious.

So while I haven't seen Surprise!, here are some words about four shorts that I have seen, in alphabetical order and including video when I've found it available.

Fly Away to the Flyway Film Festival, Oct. 22-25

This weekend across the river over der in Pepin, WI, the second annual Flyway Film Festival will showcase an impressive lineup of narrative features, shorts, and documentaries. Amusingly, about half of the films are family-friendly while the other half are zombie flicks (in fact Saturday is being called the International Zombie Summit). But there are plenty of other options if you don't have kids or don't like dead people.

Here's a blurb from the website from festival director Rick Vaicus:

"Selections range from regional Wisconsin/Minnesota offerings to international fare, among them, the Cannes-favorite U.K. zombie film Colin; German drama Storm, which garnered huge praise at the Berlin International Film Festival; Trust Us This Is All Made Up, from U.S. director Alex Karpovsky (whose mockumentary Woodpecker was a 2008 FFF audience favorite); and the family-friendly feature Etienne!, which has steadily been gathering warm critical praise.

Added into the mix is the Opening Night (and Midwest premiere) screening of the extraordinary sci-fi film Ink and Closing Night’s feature, the Wisconsin typesetting documentary Typeface for a variety of subject matter that can truly appeal to almost every film lover.

300 Words About: Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench

Jazz just sounds cooler when it's backing a black and white scene, doesn't it? Gives it an organic, refreshing sound, almost a palpable texture. Jazz under neon blue lights and nightclub smoke makes for a great atmosphere, too, but that's sultry and mysterious and can be too confined by its own setting.

The reason I point this out is because Damien Chazelle's Guy and Madeline on a Park Bench (which made waves at Tribeca in April but is still seeking financing for a theatrical release) gives jazz a shot in the arm that not only gets your toe tapping, but your spirit soaring. You're not seduced by the riffs so much as you're invigorated by them.

It's a verite-style romantic musical dramedy that defies categorization precisely because it fits so many descriptions: indie, docudrama, mumblecore, to name a few. At different times it reminded of new cinema (In Search of a Midnight Kiss and Medicine for Melancholy) and classic cinema (the dancing scene from Jean-Luc Godard's Band of Outsiders), and it won't work for everyone if only because it's so peculiarly surreal. But I think that's why I loved it, aside from the fact that it was shot on the Boston and Cambridge streets that hold a special nostalgia for me.

REVIEW: Forgiven (B)

Paul Fitzgerald's Forgiven explores a familiar story with a familiar lesson, but it stands apart from most character dramas because of the boldness with which it approaches some pretty thorny subjects: racism, American politics, murder, capital punishment, corruption, betrayal, redemption and, of course, forgiveness. In fact one of the film's weaknesses is a sense that perhaps it bit off more than it could chew, resulting in a narrative that plays like a television series condensed into 81 minutes. At the same time, however, this breadth of focus is also one of Forgiven's strengths because it illustrates how interconnected many of this social issues are.

After receiving a pardon from the Governor of North Carolina mere moments before his execution for a murder conviction, Ronald Bradler (Russell Hornsby) finds himself suddenly back in society, aimless, jobless, and very near to hopeless. He had maintained his innocence of the crime to the execution gurney, and now, angry about the years he lost on death row and the social stigma attached to his identity as a convicted felon, he's seeking retribution. His primary target is the former D.A. who prosecuted the case against him, Peter Miles (Paul Fitzgerald, who also wrote and directed the film). The timing couldn't be worse for Miles; he is in the home stretch of a U.S. Senate campaign and can't afford any skeletons in his closet aside from the drug and alcohol abuse he's already admitted.

The real seed of Bradler's frustration is the implicit role he felt his race played in the case - until he learns of known evidence that could have cleared him just weeks after the trial. When Miles denies any wrongdoing and brushes off Bradler's meeting requests by telling him to "move on" and "get on with your life", well let's just say things get out of hand quickly.

Forgiven arrives at a time in this country when accusations of racism and power are beginning to enter almost every national conversation. About education, about health care, about taxes, about unemployment and, most recently, about civility. I'm a little surprised prison populations and the justice system haven't received any attention in 2009, but if Forgiven hits the right chord it has the potential to be a catalyst. I don't think that's Fitzgerald's motive, however, so it's unfair to peg Forgiven as an "issue" movie, but rather one that attempts to test a viewer's sympathy for its characters as they stumble through a difficult situation - a situation that requires conditional forgiveness for unconditionally terrible crimes. Fitzgerald and Hornsby offer strong performances, but the acting in general is a bit uneven, with a few strained, emotional outbursts that unfortunately reminded me of the overacting in 21 Grams.

And while I ultimately found the ending to be a little more disturbing than it may have been designed to be, I think that caused Forgiven to linger for a few days, challenging me to consider the motives and justifications of its character's actions. I'm blessed not to have yet experienced a "wrong" in my life that would beg the question of forgiveness at this level (i.e., rape, murder, war crimes, imprisonment, etc.), but this movie in some way makes me consider how I would act under such circumstances. And in doing that - in asking challenging questions and not necessarily offering easy answers, Forgiven achieves its goal.

Grade:
Writing - 8
Acting - 7
Production - 8
Emotional Impact - 9
Music - 5
Social Significance - 5

Total: 42/50= 84% = B

Forgiven is currently available on Amazon's Video On Demand, and can also be added to your Netflix queue in advance of its DVD release.

REVIEW: Take Out (A)

I believe the only moment in the extraordinary Take Out that made me laugh occurred while main character Ming Ding (Charles Jang) was sweeping the sidewalk. He has one of those telescoping dust pans and brooms, and as he tries to sweep the pile into the pan, a stubborn wet piece of paper remains stuck on the cement. After three or four unsuccessful sweeps over it, he just has to bend down and pick the stupid thing up. This is a fill-in shot that lasts not more than three or four seconds, but it perfectly captures the essence of Ming Ding's frustrating situation. I sympathetically chuckled to myself, "Man, isn't that life?".

Completed in 2004 but not released on DVD until this week, Take Out is an unassuming early effort from filmmaker Sean Baker and his writing partner, Shih-Ching Tsou. The film received a very limited theatrical release last summer, but the few critics who saw it were unanimously and enthusiastically impressed. I can only add to the chorus of praise for this movie; were I to know what year to place it in it would definitely be in my Top 10. If you know my taste you won't be surprised, of course, since Take Out is another neorealistic, slice-of-life look at American culture, in this case focusing on the underworld of illegal immigration.

Ming Ding has left his wife and young child in China, smuggled through Canada by a group of unforgiving loan sharks. He makes a living, if you can call it that, as a bicycle delivery guy for a busy Chinese take-out joint on the Upper West Side. Having fallen behind on loan payments to his smugglers, Ming is giving an ultimatum one fateful morning: Pay back at least $800 of his debt that night, or see his entire debt double. How do you make $800 delivering Chinese food in just a day?

The only way he knows how: anxiously bicycling through the pouring rain all day and having cranky New Yorkers slam doors in his face, tease him about his inability to speak English, leave him coins as tips, and complain about their orders. The circumstances in which Ming works are stressful to begin with, but the added burden of his debt on this day makes every otherwise mundane interaction feel incredibly tense. Will some kind soul save Ming with a huge tip? Of course not - that doesn't happen in real life, and Take Out is about real life.

And you thought you had a bad day at work...

A person who is bored by Take Out is a person, I would argue, who is uninterested in people, uninterested in the human condition. Years ago that may have been me, someone consumed by their own existence and oblivious to the unending daily challenges faced by the other almost 7 billion people living around me. I had a heady knowledge of the world and its problems, but it was probably the four years of living in a city and commuting daily on a subway during college that really helped me study people in a new way. Where did these people come from? Where are they going? What is their story? Many of them may have surely been in the exact same situation as Ming Ding, stuck in a new country and working themselves to death in pursuit of the American Dream. In that way Take Out has much in common with Ramin Bahrani's films (especially Man Push Cart), but it's much more disturbing.

Take Out certainly sympathizes with Ming's plight, but it doesn't glorify in any way the life of a new immigrant. Ming is isolated, miserable, tired, and lacking any of the social or legal supports that so many of us take for granted. A scene in which Ming gazes at a photo of his wife and child is, in its heartbreaking silence, one of the most genuinely moving portrayals of immigrant loneliness I've ever seen. Credit is due equally to the way the scene is placed in the timeline of the story, and also the awe-inspiring performance by Charles Jang.

The acting all the way through this film is top-notch, and all the more impressive because several of the cast members are making their acting debuts. Of course, with a $3,000 - yes, $3,000 - budget, you can't afford a lot of professional talent, but every dollar of that budget was well spent. Baker and Tsou, who co-wrote and co-directed the film, could not even afford to close down the actual restaurant in which Take Out was filmed. The customers are real (several bring to mind the Chinese restaurant skit from The Fugees album, "The Score") and "Big Sister" was played by the woman who actual managed the place. The shots of food being prepared are shots of food being prepared for actual customers. It's all real and rich and absolutely mesmerizing to watch; the snappy editing moves things along in a way that doesn't allow you take your eyes off the screen.

I am perplexed as to why Take Out did not make a bigger splash in theaters or on the festival circuit. It did earn an extremely well-deserved Independent Spirit Award nomination for the John Cassavetes Award (for best film with a budget under $500,000), but lost to In Search of a Midnight Kiss. Ironically, one of the other nominees was Sean Baker's second feature film, Prince of Broadway (fingers crossed that it will see a theatrical release soon). It should say something that Baker had two films nominated in the same year. To find out why, I recommend taking a night to watch Take Out on DVD. Order some Chinese food - and make sure to tip your delivery person well.

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

Total: 48/50= 96% = A

+ Official website for Take Out
+ Buy Take Out on DVD
+ Add Take Out to your Netflix queue

REVIEW: Medicine for Melancholy (A-)

While I'm admittedly no expert on analyzing film trends, I'm confident enough calling myself an observer of them. It would appear that over the last 18 months, for example, a New Wave of American independent filmmaking has begun in earnest.

Somehow, while Hollywood barrages us with mindless action blockbusters and unnecessary sequel upon unnecessary sequel (I can understand franchises sequels like Transporter 3 and even Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2, but Get Smart 2 and Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2 - what is happening? ), an eclectic group of American filmmakers is still successfully churning out some of the best independent film of the last decade.

A DNA test would show these films from 2008 to be fraternal twins, if not identical: Ballast (Lance Hammer), Chop Shop (Ramin Bahrani), Wendy and Lucy (Kelly Reichardt), In Search of a Midnight Kiss (Alex Holdridge), Frozen River (Courtney Hunt), and The Pool (Chris Smith) - and those are just the ones I've seen. Their shared traits: two or three principle characters, a bare bones plot about current social issues, a subtle and possibly nonexistent musical score, stark cinematography, and decidedly untidy endings. Of course they're also all quite good (four of them were in my Best of 2008 list, and Wendy and Lucy might have snuck in had I seen it earlier), making the fact that they received so little attention even more disappointing.

Barry Jenkins' Medicine for Melancholy unfortunately seems headed for the same quiet fate. A late 2008 arrival that may find more of an audience in 2009 on DVD and in limited release, it's a deceptively loaded film that, likes its characters, quickly sheds itself of stereotypes in carving out its own niche in the romantic drama genre. Meditative and unhurried, Medicine for Melancholy strikes a comfortable balance between lighthearted comedy, passionate romance, thoughtful drama and, of all things, cultural identity and social justice. It's like Before Sunrise with a conscience.

Unlike the contemplative pair of Jesse and Celine, however, Micah (Wyatt Cenac) and Jo (Tracey Heggins) meet under less romantic circumstances: shamefully in each other's arms after an inebriated one night stand. The next day, Sunday, starts out with a painfully awkward breakfast at a local cafe (they learn each other's names) followed by a uncomfortably forced conversation in the cab ride to their respective San Francisco apartments. Jo is in a serious relationship with a white guy, which aside from irritating Micah simply makes him all the more determined to win her over.

These issues around race are thoroughly explored while hardly discussed at all. Yes, Micah is vocal about his frustration with the history of socioeconomic segregation in San Francisco and that people of color are always patronized in the "indie" scene and that African-Americans make up a minuscule percentage of homeowners in the city, but he never preaches, and neither does the movie. In the hands of the brilliant Spike Lee, for example, Medicine for Melancholy would have become tiresome and likely abrasive. Barry Jenkins uses a softer touch, fortunately, and lets the camera and the city do the majority of the talking. The color is symbolically washed out from the film and we learn as much about the characters and their thoughts on race relations not by what they say, but by what they wear, do, eat, and listen to. Alex Holdridge used technique this to a lesser extent in In Search of a Midnight Kiss, and his beautiful shots of L.A. were more pretty than profound. Jenkins, on the other hand, is doing it with a lot more thought and for much more meaning.

There's little mystery as to how Micah and Jo's relationship will progress throughout the day (even though Jo asks in the form of a declaration, "This is a one night stand."), but Medicine for Melancholy isn't a romance in the traditional sense anyway. Cenac and Heggins provide Micah and Jo with real weight and emotion, and although this may be partly because we've never seen them before, it's all because they do an excellent job naturally settling into their roles. Amusingly, their acting is a little shaky at the beginning, but then again so are the characters themselves as they work their way out of an awkward situation. Is it by design? With as much careful thought as appears to have gone into the other aspects of Medicine for Melancholy, I wouldn't be surprised.

Finally, I'd be remiss not to mention the soundtrack at some point, if only because people who are into indie rock (I'm only marginally so) will probably consider it a gold mine. I don't recognize any of the songs and only two of the artists - Tom Waits and Wyatt Cenac (who plays Micah) - but you should know by now that I'm game for any song that fits the right scene, and it should come as no surprise that Jenkins succeeds with the music as well as he does everything else.

I saw Medicine for Melancholy more than three weeks ago and it's yet to begin to fade into the recesses of my movie memory. On paper it's obviously the type of film I would love (tell me you're surprised at my grade), but it's still been "stickier" than I expected, and it's the best type of movie in that sense because I find myself still connecting it to real life. There's a sense that, like the other American Independent New Wave movies from 2008, Medicine for Melancholy taps into some universal human condition that we're all able to relate to despite differences in race, class, gender, and other seemingly obtrusive social divisions. You might not see yourself in these movies, but you see yourself in them.

Grade:
Writing - 9
Acting - 9
Production - 10
Emotional Impact - 8
Music - 5
Social Significance - 5

Total: 46/50= 92% = A-

Taking It Home: Ballast

Over Spring Break in 2001, I led a community service trip to the Mississippi Delta. Fifteen college students coming from Boston, none of us, including myself, having ever been south of Memphis. Our work was to assist in the classroom at several schools in the area, from Little Rock to Clarksdale.

To say that we were shocked at what we saw in the Delta is a significant understatement. This was an area that, according to those teachers who hosted us, first received electricity in the 80's. This was an area with the worst performing schools in Mississippi, itself already the worst performing state, academically speaking, in the country. This was an area that by all measures appeared to be still living under Jim Crow laws; never I have see a place so racially segregated. Although "Whites Only" and "Colored Only" signs were not actually displayed, they sure seemed to be implied.

Like most service trips to developing areas, the members of our group left (hopefully) with a new worldview and a new appreciation, in this case, for our own educational backgrounds. Whether or not we actually accomplished anything of significance during our week there was, unfortunately, unknown and unprovable. I've shared my observations of that world with people in the years since, but I'm afraid I haven't been nearly as successful as Lance Hammer's compelling Ballast, one of the year's best films and one of the most accurate depictions of the Delta that I've seen since that trip seven years ago.

What makes Ballast so extraordinary, aside from the beautiful technical production and arresting performances, is that it allows the viewer to relate so intimately and effortlessly with its characters. It is a coincidence that Hammer's film has come at a time when financial and racial tensions in this country are so high, but this is a timeless story that ultimately speaks more about people than place. Hammer makes no overt statement about power, discrimination, privilege or circumstance (if he makes any political statement, he admits it's toward gun control), and this is not a film about race relations or desperate poverty. It is a film about grief, forgiveness, redemption and hope.

In a Q & A session following the screening of Ballast, Hammer (whose background is in architecture and whose Hollywood credits range from Batman to The Man Who Wasn't There), said his concept for the film originally dealt more directly with the racial history of the South, but that as a white man from Los Angeles, "it was naive and innocent, and it was the wrong thing" for him to do so; he realized "how little authority" he had to speak about the issue. Instead, he developed a story that he thought would "speak very delicately about universals" and "the dignity of persevering in the face of adversity." Hammer said he desired to get out of the Hollywood blockbusters and instead "talk about something as truthful."

I really admire his commitment to accuracy and truth in making Ballast, especially in relation to the landscape of the Delta. The physical location is untouched and raw (Hammer spoke about the irony of his background as a production designer and how the ideal of a "real" set was, in this case, organically perfect). There is little sunlight, but yet it's always light; it's a bright, cloudy landscape that prevents you from knowing what time it is throughout the day. Incidentally, Hammer said they used no lights during filming (learn more production details in an interview with Lance Hammer by Getafilm favorite Craig Kennedy).

There's something that concerns me about the reaction to Ballast, however, and it has to do with the praise I just awarded it. At the screening I attended, a majority of the questions and compliments for Lance Hammer were about the aesthetics of the film, or his screenwriting process, or the experience of the actors involved. In other words, it seemed few people were interested in the story or the themes or the lessons or even the history of the Delta. Granted, I saw it at the Walker Art Center so the audience was primarily comprised of contemporary artistes, but come on, people, let's check in with reality for a second. Those amazing performances felt so real because they were real. The outstanding cast (Michael J. Smith, JimMyron Ross, and Tarra Riggs) was found in the Delta, living lives perhaps similar to those of their characters in Ballast. When the actors felt something in Hammer's screenplay wasn't authentic, they would reinvent the scenario to reflect the reality they knew.

Maybe because they're not technically categorized as documentaries, it's so easy for us to lose sight of the truth in films like Ballast, Chop Shop, and The Pool. Even in my reviews of those latter two films, I highlighted the artistry of the filmmaking as much as anything else. Are we connecting more with the scenery than we are with the story? With the colors and lighting more than the characters? I hope not, but the Q & A experience after Ballast forced the question upon me. Fortunately, Hammer did his best to redirect the conversation back to the issues at hand, such as hope in the midst of despair and protecting the potential of a child. I kind of hoped Hammer would have addressed the title of the film and his interpretation of its symbolism, but of course I didn't think about that until later on.

I know it's possibly the last place in the country to which most people would willingly travel, but a few days in the Delta will give you a very different perspective about the lives of your fellow Americans (or for those of you who are abroad, the lives of Americans you may never meet). If never make it there, it will at least be worth your time to check out Ballast.

What did you take home?

(Note: Lance Hammer pulled out of a distribution deal with IFC so he could maintain full control of Ballast. He's currently taking it on the road himself - check here for a list of "tour" stops.)