Hey folks, Harry here with Harold Hellman chiming back in from the Seattle International Film Festival and he's got quite a few jewels to be sharing with us. CHOPPER is the first one he tells us about and watch for it... It'll be coming later this year to the U.S. and thus far the 9 or so reviews that I've published on it have loved it... but they were from the New Zealand and Australian release last year.... So don't let time dim your memory of anxiousness... Read on....

"Harold Hellman" from Movie Geek Central (MovieGeek.HomeStead.Com), with just one review today (it's all that I saw on Monday)...

CHOPPER -- Australia, 2000, written and directed by Andrew Dominik.

"Chopper" opens with a sequence of time-lapse shots of a prison, showing clouds racing across the sky above forbidding walls and shadows of chain-link fences and barbed wire crawling across the concrete, while "Don't Fence Me In" plays cheerfully on the soundtrack. With this unreal and contradictory image, the film announces the vocabulary it'll be using to tell the true-life story of notorious Australian criminal Mark "Chopper" Read, based in part on Read's own books.

The film picks up about midway through Read's latest prison sentence, and shows how far he'll go to literally carve out a spot at the top of the heap. At one point he repeatedly shivs a rival in the head, then offers him a cigarette, and later he convinces another inmate to slice his ears off in order to be removed from a cell block. But despite his casual brutality, he has an odd sense of honor and trust; when he's betrayed by an associate, he doesn't believe he's been stabbed until he actually takes off his jacket and shirt and sees the blood pouring out of him.

Much of this is played for bleak humor, and Read is certainly shown as the most intelligent and charismatic person in the film. Eric Bana gives a spectacularly brilliant performance in the role; as we follow Read's release from prison and his subsequent exploits, Bana improbably makes it impossible to look away from this amiably cruel man. This isn't to say we actually like him, though, which is a crucial failing. Although we share his bemusement during a scene where he tries to confess a killing to the police ("I can't get arrested in this town," he says as the police seem unconcerned even when he hands them the murder weapon), other scenes make it clear he's a dangerous, repellent sociopath. (A couple in front of me left about midway through when Reed began punching his prostitute girlfriend in the face.) Still, you can't take your eyes off him, because his volcanic unpredictability means you have no idea whether he's going to kill somebody or befriend them, or do something so totally outrageous it beggars belief.

But when the movie's over, you're left with an overwhelming feeling of, "Okay, and?" In other words, we just spent ninety minutes with this occasionally funny, occasionally disgusting character, and we have a very clear sense of what he's about, but there doesn't really seem to be any reason for us to have gotten to know him. The final moments of the film -- a long, slow tracking shot away from Read in a cell -- give a hint of directorial point of view, of objective judgment of the man's character, but it's too little, too late.

Partly because Read confines his violent antics to the underworld, preferring to victimize other criminals instead of regular citizens, and partly because of his no-bullshit take-no-prisoners view of life, he has, in real life, become an improbable hero Down Under, and has sold hundreds of thousands of copies of his autobiographical books. Based on the characterization in the film, we definitely understand his charismatic appeal, and some of the movie is very funny in a perverse sort of way. But we never get any real insights into the man (a brief scene with his father comes off as far too facile and obvious), and after ninety minutes, we feel like we've seen all we need to about him. The easy comparison is to James Gandolfini's Tony Soprano, who despite being amoral and brutal never crosses the line to become sadistic, and our fascination with his character remains after three seasons. Mark "Chopper" Read, by contrast, is wily, funny, and incredibly tough, but he's still a thug, and the movie doesn't seen to have much more to say about him than that.

"Chopper" is energetic, cinematically inventive (an undercrank effect, used twice, is stunning), and sometimes darkly hilarious, and if you've got a strong stomach you might appreciate it as an uncompromising portrait of a unique individual, but I can't really recommend it beyond that.

TEETH -- Italy, 2000, w/d Gabriele Salvatores.

If David Cronenberg were to make a Freudian comedy about bad teeth and dentistry, it would probably look a lot like "Denti," aka "Teeth."

We first meet the hero, Antonio, as a child. He seems cheerful enough, but he's being consumed by self-consciousness about his huge front teeth. He smiles at a girl; she stares, and looks away. And when his parents aren't paying attention, he opens his mouth wide and attempts to bash out his teeth on a stone step. He bloodies himself badly, but his teeth remain.

Flash forward, and Antonio is now an adult, played by Sergio Rubini. He's lost his youthful cheer, and is now a dour, jealous man. He accuses his girlfriend of infidelity. He has an ex-wife and two kids whom he neglects. He also obsesses about his past, often regarding his mother, particularly after his teeth get chipped and he discovers he can trigger hidden memories by pressing his tongue to the exposed nerve endings. He schedules appointments with a series of dentists to get advice about fixing his teeth; none of them works out, each for different reasons. And all the while, he simultaneously copes both with present problems -- kids, girlfriend, her imagined lover -- as well as the visions from his past.

All of this is played for dark, dark comedy, with an edge of surrealism. During one dental appointment, the dentist leaves the casting mold in too long, and it gets stuck in Antonio's mouth, leading to a wrestling match with the dentist threatening to yank Antonio's teeth out of his face. There are also bizarre interludes in which photographs come to life, including one where the shape of a hand slowly travels up a woman's body, moving under the skin as though it's a silk sheet. The most squirm-inducing scenes involve graphic close-ups of dental work, with drills grinding teeth and metal tools probing swollen gums; several people fled the auditorium during one tooth-pulling sequence. And in among the sequences of dental torture, there are moments of surprising delicacy, even beauty, as when a drunk Antonio dives into his liquor glass and dances an amber-tinged underwater tango, or when during one painful exam the camera plunges into Antonio's eye and reveals a dark tunnel full of fireflies.

Needless to say, this isn't a film for everyone. The horrifically funny screen-filling scenes of dental distress will be an ordeal for most people, the fact that Antonio has serious psychological issues to solve frequently makes him an unpleasant protagonist, and the film's fundamentally symbolic approach demands that the viewer pay attention in order to understand what's going on. I can certainly say I've never seen anything like it, and if you think you can handle the rougher stuff, then you'll be rewarded with a rich, fascinating, sometimes hilarious, and often visually striking film about a guy whose mental and emotional problems are literally being yanked out at the roots.

101 REYKJAVIK -- Iceland, 2000, w/d Baltasar Kormakur.

"101 Reykjavik" is one of those quirky films that's difficult to summarize, because it's all about character and interaction rather than a clearly defined story. Despite its unconventional structure, it's still marvelously entertaining and very funny, with an endearingly dry and offbeat sense of humor. If it seems to wander around arbitrarily at the end, it's partly because there isn't really a story to wrap up, but it's more that the characters are so real that a cheap, simple solution would ring false. Regardless, it's certainly an amusing ride along the way.

The hero of the film is Hlynur (sounds a little like "LEE-nur"), played by Hilmir Snaer Gudnason. He's an uberslacker of epic laziness: In the neighborhood of thirty years old, he still lives with his mother, sleeping till noon, partying at night, carelessly downloading porn on the computer in the front room while his mother bustles around uncomfortably behind him. He occasionally spends an hour or two in the bed of a woman who might be his girlfriend if he didn't treat her so shabbily, and when he's done with the sex, he slips out without a word. And, of course, he has no job, surviving on disability payments from the government. He isn't obnoxious on purpose; he's just so blissfully self-centered that other people's feelings simply don't occur to him.

Then Lola, played by Almodovar veteran Victoria Abril, arrives. She's beautiful, unfettered, and exotic, and shakes up Hlynur's comfortable lethargy. She's from Spain, and is ostensibly there to teach Hlynur's mother's flamenco class. Hlynur perceives a mutual attraction between himself and Lola, not least because of her habit of walking around the house half-dressed. Before long, though, he realizes she swings the other way -- and then his mother says she has something important to tell him.

"101 Reykjavik" is a comedy of shifting relationships, of the subtle changes in interpersonal dynamics as people learn about one another and adjust what they want from each other. Hlynur just wants to live day-to-day, accepting the government's handouts, looking for dirty movies on the television, and drinking and dancing at night. He doesn't really connect with anybody -- not his mother, his family, or his sometime girlfriend. His oblivious selfishness would be abrasive if you actually knew him, but the movie gets a lot of comic mileage out of it. When his girlfriend brings over a Christmas present, for example, he leaves her on the porch with barely a thank-you. She's hurt, but the sheer magnitude of his senseless egotism is so great you have to shake your head and laugh.

After Lola's arrival, the film is driven by Hlynur's attempts, usually unsuccessful, to cope with an increasing variety of unwelcome changes. This is done with real wit and originality; in addition to scenes like the one where Hlynur irritates a traffic enforcement official by inserting coins in a line of parking meters, there are hilarious throwaway bits like the kids who shoot bottle rockets at the pizza delivery guy, or the friends who casually careen down an icy road in a rundown car while the driver peers out a tiny hole cleared in the snow on the windshield. The movie also has unique and subtle elements of construction, such as the soundtrack being mostly made up of various arrangements -- piano, reggae, Latin, techno -- of the Kinks song "Lola." I'll admit, Hlynur's unquestionably a jerk, but he's the kind of jerk we all have inside of us, so we can relate when, for example, he fantasizes about taking a shotgun to an excruciatingly boring family gathering. And despite his selfishness, he occasionally wakes up enough to treat people with rare grace and warmth.

Okay, I know, it sounds weird and difficult, but trust me: "101 Reykjavik" is a very entertaining human comedy, mixing quiet wisdom with sidesplitting shtick amid the snowy wastes of Iceland. Despite a somewhat unsatisfying final ten minutes, I still loved the movie, and can recommend it without reservation.

6IXTYNIN9 -- Thailand, 2000, w/d Pen-Ek Ratanaruang.

It's strange, but as the Thai economy continues to crumble, its movies get more and more interesting. Maybe it's the old thing about suffering for art, or maybe it's coincidence; but regardless, cinephiles should take serious notice of what's coming out of Thailand.

The latest minor gem from a Thai filmmaker is "6ixtynin9," a suspense thriller with a truly morbid sense of humor. Its first scene takes its cue from the country's economic woes, as a group of secretaries at a large financial firm is assembled and asked to draw straws to see which of them will be laid off. One of the casualties, Tum, goes home in despair; with no money, she's forced to shoplift what she needs, and at home she falls asleep fantasizing about suicide.

The next day, though, she discovers a box with a large amount of cash inside, and no explanation. Clearly this was a mistake; the number 9 on her apartment door is loose and sometimes flips over to a 6, evidently causing the erroneous delivery. (This is the source of the odd title, as well.) Shortly after she brings the box inside, there's a knock at the door, and the two toughs outside demand the return of the cash. A scuffle ensues, and, improbably, Tum winds up trying to figure out how to conceal two corpses in her tiny apartment. This happens within twenty minutes; the rest of the film is about Tum trying to get out of the country with the money while suspicious gangsters revolve around her in an ever-tightening criminal spiral.

"6ixtynin9" has been called Tarantino-esque, and to the degree that it features shifting loyalties, shocking violence, and an absurdly complicated plot, that's accurate. The humor is also quite dark, sometimes perversely so, as in the revenge proposed by a downstairs neighbor for a philandering husband. However, this film is far more reserved, more deliberately paced, pausing the action to let the characters consider the implications of their deeds, or to luxuriate in a moment of extremely stylish cinematography. In some ways, the slow pace indicates the film is taking its pulpy story far more seriously than it deserves, and it's fair to say the movie could benefit from a little tightening. As it turns out, the ending makes it clear the film does have something serious on its mind, but given what comes before, it isn't exactly the climax we expected, or even, necessarily, preferred.

The lead character, Tum, is also not particularly well-developed. We meet her at the beginning as a fairly weak woman, devastated by the loss of her job, but we don't learn very much about her before the plot twists start piling on. Lalita Panyopas is thoughtful and measured in the role (and quite pretty as well), and does what she can with the limited material, but she isn't able to do more than quickly sketch in the outlines of the character during the opening scenes. As a result, since we don't know her typical behavior, we have less reason to be surprised by some of her actions as the convoluted plot kicks into high gear.

Still, there's a lot to like about "6ixtynin9." Some of the cinematography is quite striking, including a scene in an outdoor cafe with a strategically-placed mirrored column. As demented as the jokes sometimes become, they're almost always sickly hilarious. The ridiculously intricate storyline, again, would probably work better if it were paced a little more quickly, but it's still very involving and totally unpredictable. The inverted 6/9 on Tum's door is more than a plot gimmick; it serves as a subtle and effective metaphor for how Tum's life and personality get turned upside down.

"6ixtynin9" may not be perfect, but I liked it a lot more than I didn't, and it serves as another example of how Thai cinema is coming into its own.

Harold Hellman signing off...