Hey folks, Harry here with our correspondent up in New Hampshire, L.P.o.P. who went in to enjoy the TELLURIDE BY THE SEA FILM FESTIVAL. Now the key here is to realize that I get the sense that L.P.o.P. is a fairly young reader... so on a film like THE STRAIGHT STORY... well... take it into consideration. I've got another review of the film that's quite different going up today as well. So enjoy....
First-time correspondent L.P.o.P. here to report on the just-completed "Telluride by the Sea" film festival in - get this! - Portsmouth, N.H., a relatively small, oceanside community that's about an hour north of Boston. "Why," you ask, "is Telluride lending its good name to, of all places, New Hampshire?" Well, the six films that played here this weekend came with the blessings of Bill Pence, one of Telluride's original co-founders. Turns out that Pence and his wife are moving to Portsmouth. Since Pence stays involved in the real Telluride, he agreed to this Mini-Me presentation in his new hometown and even handpicked all the films that were on display.
A couple of things are worth noting right away:
1. Attendance was a rousing success. Fifteen hundred tickets were sold - when just 900 would have been break-even, quite a feat since...
2. Maybe ONE of the movies MIGHT go into general-enough release to play in this area EVER again, so obviously...
3. Pence was pleased to announce Sunday afternoon that "Telluride by the Sea" would definitely return next year!
OK, onto the films, which were shown in a more-than-adequate, old-fashioned downtown music hall.
The one movie that most Americans might likely hear the most about - David Lynch's The Straight Story - opened the festival on Friday night. It won't last long in general release, however. This is not a good movie. Not good in its Forrest Gump-like ways (not that I liked that film either), not as good as Lynch's really good films (most people will never notice the Lynch Touch to this film) and CLEARLY not as good as a real documentary about the true-life story told on screen.
Lynch recounts how an old geezer actually rode, yes, a lawn mower way too many miles over way too many weeks in hopes of seeing his long-estranged brother. (I guess you could call it suspenseful, but Hitchcock would slap you.) Lynch does nothing right in getting this Road picture going. When the story finally does lurch ahead, it's as you imagine - a lot of slow-moving shots through idyllic landscape (including the obligatory silhouette of the mower against the setting sun). A series of episodic vignettes ensue, and some of them work well, but they come too late to save the story from the opening lapse.
"The Straight Story" is much too earnest and too polite to hate, because it 1. always chooses to be quiet and lean, 2. skips most of the obvious cliches and 3. has the eminently likeable Richard Farnsworth in the lead. (Having said that last part,, it takes all of Farnsworth' real-life charm to get past his character's foul-smelling, hayseed tendencies.) Sissy Spacek plays the geezer's daughter, and unfortunately Spacek's performing charms cannot overcome the unappealing character she plays. You're supposed to sympathize for her simpleton gal, but Spacek's verbal tics make each moment on screen very annoying. As a viewer, you can't wait for Farnsworth to get going and put as much space as possible between him and Spacek.
While "The Straight Story" is both a Disney film and a Lynch direction, it's hard to fathom WHO is going to see this. There Is NO Audience for this movie! There wasn't one person (except maybe Mr. Pence) among the 525 in attendance Friday night who will recommend anybody see "The Straight Story" in the theaters, on video or network TV. (Not that any network except Disney's ABC would think about showing it.) It's not outright bad, but material like this has to be told extremely well for any kind of an audience - commercial or art-house - to get it.
Maybe, just maybe, Lynch could at least cut the LONG opening..., but the Mouse won't lose any serious money regardless. (The movie doesn't look cheap, but it couldn't have been that expensive either.)
First up Saturday afternoon was Wisconsin Death Trip, an amusing, droll documentary by Errol Morris...er, I mean James Marsh, who could easily moonlight as Morris' directing body-double. While the real Morris sticks to contemporary subjects, "Wisconsin Death Trip" plays as if Morris, in his own way, started imitating Ken Burns. (You'll understand if you ever see this odd little film sometime on PBS, Bravo or the Sundance channels.)
"Wisconsin Death Trip" is just long enough to be engaging but short enough to prevent any non-sequitur fatigue syndrome. It's mostly a stylish, black-and-white recreation of the police-log calamities that befell one small Midwestern town in the 1890s. I'll tell you one thing: this place wasn't Mayberry! Human oddities - mostly ghastly murders - are quietly dramatized one after another, interspersed with real photos from the time and narration from the actual old newspaper accounts. It's all loosely stitched together in time as Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall (each displayed in silent film title-style). Full-color, present-day depictions of the current town also occasionally break up the repetitive storyline.
Moving leisurely to its own logic, "Wisconsin Death Trip" is too arty and realistic to ever pass for surreal. You can't help noting the beautiful camera angles and images of grisly scenes, and you can't help laughing at some of the bizarre forms of human nature on display, in particular one young woman with a penchant for smashing windows over and over (and over) again.
Does it all mean anything in the end? Actually, "Wisconsin Death Trip" is a gussied-up version of Fox's "World's Greatest Car Crashes MCLVIII" programs - a bunch of compelling footage that you watch because, well, where else do you get to see this kind of stuff packaged together? So, "Wisconsin Death Trip" is enjoyable in the same way. It's definitely better without the commercials, but 5 minutes more of it and you would have been looking for the remote to change the channel.
Up next Saturday was Mifune, the first foreign-film entry that, despite its title, was Danish, I think. (Sounded like that to me; definitely northern European.) This is the type of film that NEVER comes out of Hollywood, and you're either interested in the non-linear vibes or you're not. (Adam Sandler fans need not apply.)
I don't get to as many foreign films as I used to, so it's hard to judge "Mifune" against other pictures of its kind. As always, the sexuality is far more graphic, and the side characters far more brazenly odd, than anything in your local cineplex. (It makes you wonder if foreign audiences really "get" this stuff any better than people in the States do.)
In all likelihood, telling the story of "Mifune" would sound a lot more boring than how this movie actually plays. It's in the genre of guy-falls-for-a-new-gal-and-survives-the-myriad-of-complications-they-encounter. It does have a little Rain Man shtick, a little Hooker with a Heart, a little Little Brat who's just misunderstood and a lead male character who spends a little too much time running his hands through his unmanageable hair. (Picture Hugh Grant in the English remake.) But "Mifune" is funny and serious at times. Nothing about it strikes me as particularly original, but how can you fault a film that draws on the late, great Toshiro Mifune for its title and one (of a lot of) plot points?
Saturday's triple feature ended with the funny and meaningful "Me Myself I," which has to be one of the Top 10 modern-female empowerment films. (One note, though: it wasn't until LITERALLY the last frame that my companions and I realized that all the action took place in Australia!)
"Me Myself I" is very smart in handling some very obvious movie conventions. (Think of it as the antithesis to something like "Stepmom" with Julia Roberts and Susan Sarandon.) The more-than-adequate Rachel Griffiths plays a "Sliding Doors" character here, in this case a successful, still youngish, very single professional woman. Her lonely thoughts and empty-enough lifestyle gives way to a chance to experience just what it would be like to be married to Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome; be a mother to three young children, and ditch her drab apartment for a lovely suburban home. (A young Meryl Streep would have been great here. Sandra Bullock would do, and Neve Campbell would be preferable if it would stop the aforementioned Julia from being hired.)
This film touches all the bases - or at least all the sensibilities it wants to feel - of the conflicts in being the Total Woman today. The film's wit is warm and the character development generous way beyond that of the female protagonist. If you accept that "Me Myself I" has to follow certain rules, and that it doesn't want any real negativity in the air (go see Robin Williams' odious "Mrs. Doubtfile" for real pablum-puking drivel), you can't help laughing where the laughs are and root for almost every person on screen.
Sunday afternoon brought Kadosh, an Israeli film about the darned inconveniences of living in an ultra-Orthodox community.
Oy! This goyim found the tale - two sisters chafing under the male hegemony of religious dominance - too much of a closed set for any emotional involvement. (So deeply ingrained is the subject matter that I had to seek out and devour a reuben and my first-ever New York egg cream afterwards!)
Bleak and dour, "Kadosh" doesn't let any of its potentially universal themes soar or seep through. I kept wondering how this film will be received in Israel. Otherwise, I couldn't really tell if there was anything eye opening in the storytelling or if it was simply a good effort at an oft-told, age-old Jewish dilemma. (If pushed, I'd lean to the latter. "Kadosh" didn't seem to be particularly daring or shocking. Its condemnation wasn't overly strident and the bad guys were not sadistically heartless.) You'd have to be deeply into attending temple, or surrounded by temple-goers, to even think you might see this film someday. But "Kadosh" is not garbage. There's a lot of good moviemaking work here. It's just far from action packed (or paced) and even further from letting any outsider in.
The festival ended Sunday night with a slightly-odd crowd pleaser, the "comedy" East is East. I hesitate on the comedy appellation because while this film has laughs - one really big one - there are times where you'll challenge yourself, and the filmmaker, from pursuing any more humorous moments. You'll know just how politically correct you are if you stop laughing all together. (After a couple of cringes, I let the director, Damien O'Donnell, have his way in depicting some real human interaction. On the other hand, I know some people who think Archie Bunker from "All in the Family" isn't funny at all.)
While "Wisconsin Death Trip" was the most original of the six films presented, "East is East" dueled with "Me Myself I" as the best conventual movie, and I think the universe it creates made it the weekend's overall winner. "East is East" tells a 1970s story of a proud, beyond-stubborn Pakistani immigrant, a more than middle-aged man who lives in England and runs a meager food-store. He and his wife, a down-to-earth-and-then-some English woman, have seven mostly teenage or grown-up children. The movie focuses on the culture clash that surrounds the generally genial, mixed-birth children and the Moslem heritage their father would like to retain for them and himself.
George Khan, the father, is depicted in all his warts and warmth. "East is East" goes far beyond that also to give dimension to Khan's wife and actually delineates characteristics for all of the children (and even some other fringe players). O'Donnell worked from some obviously good source material here, because long before the end you're anticipating the characters' reactions, none of which O'Donnell sugarcoats to make a viewer's loyalties any easier.
Ultimately, "East is East" is an updated, culturally transplanted "Life With Father" that's packed with a lot of honest, frank emotions.
So to wrap up, "East is East" and "Me Myself I" are recommended wholeheartedly. ("East is East" is a Miramax film, so there's real potential it will get some decent national distribution.) For foreign film buffs, see "Mifune." To the odd in us all, see "Wisconsin Death Trip." To those who can't make a pilgrimmage this Millennium, let "Kadosh" ease your fervor.
Most of all, remember: You will kick yourself if you see "The Straight Story." If you insist on it, fast forward through at least the first 15 minutes!
My work is done here. Over and out (until next year), Harry.
L.P.o.P.
