Remembering Robin Williams

By Matt Giles

It goes without saying that Robin Williams made all of us laugh. For some it was his starring role in “Mork & Mindy,” for others it was as the Genie in “Aladdin.” And then there was everything in between, from his dramatic roles in films like “Dead Poets Society,” and “Awakenings,” to more disturbing parts in films like “Insomnia” and “One Hour Photo.” What was always clear was his immeasurable talent and charm, as well as his kindness. For those of you who haven’t seen all of the media coverage about Williams – especially as it relates to Detroit Public Television – we’ve added a whole page dedicated to him called Remembering Robin Williams.

There, you can see his appearances on various PBS specials and you can also find links to mental heath resources. Williams was also remembered on Monday’s episode of Charlie Rose. PBS NewsHour also had a segment that featured my favorite film critic, A.O. Scott of The New York Times, and Budd Friedman, founder of Improv Comedy Club. For the young ones, WNYC tweeted a link to 30 years of Robin Williams appearances on Sesame Street, which is pretty cool: bit.ly/1oHLtBF

While we mourn the loss of one of our most beloved actors, it is very clear in all of the clips above that we should celebrate his life and the gift of laughter he brought to so many. For me, “Hook” will always be my favorite because I saw it at such a young age and loved the performance Williams gave as an older Peter Pan. The best scene comes when Peter finally remembers his happy thought and is able to fly, fight, and crow once more. Bangarang, Robin. Bangarang.

I Am Not A Hipster ★★★★

Struggling To Find Meaning After The Death of His Mother

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

When we first meet Brook (Dominic Bogart), an indie-rock musician living in San Diego, we see many of the attributes of the modern day hipster: he rejects virtually anything that could be considered mainstream, rides a bicycle instead of driving a car, wears thick-rimmed glasses, and just does not seem to care about anything. The title of the film, of course, suggests that these traits are all part of a facade that Brook is putting out into the world. We come to learn that Brook, for the past year or so, is still devastated by the loss of his mother.

Throughout I Am Not A Hipster, we're given just enough detail about this woman (shown very briefly in flashback with no dialogue) to know that she meant the world to Brook and his three sisters. It informs everything that Brook does and says, making him both a fascinating character study and a guy a you would love to hit square in the face quite frankly. For most of the movie, the best parts of Brook are seen when he's with his sisters, who show up to spread their mother's ashes in the ocean. Of the three of them, Joy (Tammy Minoff) is the one who has the most screen time with him, rightfully so as Minoff beautifully balances understanding her brother while also giving him the wake-up call he needs. 

What I love about this movie, as well as the music throughout it, is the fact that it managed to use the medium of film to convey all the emotions I've ever felt listening to some of my favorite musicians. I tend to be on the fence with Radiohead depending on the album, but an example of what I'm talking about could be found in their song "Fake Plastic Trees". For me, it's a song that, regardless of the lyrics, is about loss and hope living in harmony. I can't quite describe everything I feel when I listen to something like that, but those same emotions bubbled to the surface while I was watching I Am Not A Hipster. 

My favorite scene in the movie is an example of these conflicting emotions when Brook, his sisters, and his estranged father finally go the beach to put their mother to rest. Carrying the urn out to sea, Brook drops it in the ocean when a wave hits him harder than expected. What follows is a conversation between father and son that is so perfect I was moved to tears. This is one of the few character study films (if such a sub-genre exists) that knocked me out by how terrific and understated it was.

I haven't seen many films that tackle the relationship between loss and creativity so well. I Am Not A Hipster should be considered a lesson to aspiring filmmakers. Anyone who has ever experienced a tragedy and created something - be it a song, a film, a novel or anything else - knows that the key is not to be consumed by grief, but instead to use it as your fuel. I won't discuss spoilers here, except to say that Brook is an example of that journey, a character worth your time in a film that is truly special. 

I Am Not A Hipster is currently available on demand. 

The Master ★★★

Who Is In Command Of Who?

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

Paul Thomas Anderson's The Master has quickly become the most theorized film of 2012. It's not interested in story, but rather, mood. Before its release, it was said that this film was Anderson's take on Scientology, and to a degree it is, just not in the way many are expecting.

The overall atmosphere of the film is disturbing: every scene hints at an eruption of violence that sometimes occurs and sometimes doesn't, creating a sense of unease and fascination. We feel this largely due to Joaquin Phoenix and Philip Seymour Hoffman, both entirely different characters, yet each one possessing a certain sinister quality that hints at instability. 

Phoenix plays Freddie Quell, a World War II veteran who brings new meaning to the word addiction, as he both an extreme alcoholic and completely obsessed with sex. His face is twisted, his body is bent, and his actions are menacing. He floats from one job to the next, first as a photographer, then as a cabbage farmer, though his primary skill in both occupations is concocting new ways of making his own alcoholic beverages. When he poisons an old man on the cabbage farm (whether or not it's accidental is up to the viewer to decide), he flees the farm and stows away on a yacht for the evening. As fate would have it, this yacht belongs to Lancaster Dodd (Hoffman), the leader of group called "The Cause". 

Lancaster sees something in Freddie and decides to take him on as his protégé. For whatever reason, Freddie doesn't run away from him, and yet again, the reasons are left up to us to decide. There's a connection between these two men, one that is so powerful, Lancaster's wife, Peggy (played with understated intimidation by the brilliant Amy Adams), takes notice and becomes visibly jealous the longer Freddie stays with The Cause. 

One of the many theories out there posit that The Master, more than anything else, is a love story between these two men, and to an extent, it is. Lancaster seems more aware and comfortable with his feelings for Freddie, whereas Freddie is a puzzle. You can't help but wonder if he's aware of those feelings and playing him for a fool, or if he's just too stupid to realize it. Thus, the question of who the master is shifts back and forth between these two characters, even though Lancaster is mostly referred to as Master by his followers. 

Freddie doesn't seem to need a world with rules and regulations. He doesn't fit in with society and could very much qualify as his own distinct breed of human. Yet Phoenix plays him so perfectly that you cannot help but wonder if he truly is the Master of his world, everything he does being a calculated choice in manipulating Lancaster to reveal himself as a fraud. Or maybe, Lancaster is the master manipulator, though much more overtly than Freddie. He has a following, a commanding presence, and most importantly, the power of persuasion. 

Anderson succeeds in making a movie that is open to a variety of interpretations. and his attention to period detail (it takes place in 1950) and visual composition are breathtaking. Shooting mostly in close-up only further illicits that sinister feeling in the audience that conveys something bad will happen. It's claustrophobic, jarring and very effective. Setting it in 1950 makes the film feel otherworldly all together, as this is a 1950 we've never seen before and one that could only come to life through Anderson's lens. Assisting him perfectly, as far as the tone of the film is concerned, is the eerie score provided by Jonny Greenwood. If there's one thing that stays in your head leaving the theater, it's the music heard throughout the film, more twisted than Freddie himself. 

In other words, The Master is different. It's unique in almost every way, yet somehow a lesser achievement when compared to Anderson's previous work. The pacing is off, the length of the film becomes problematic when the last chunk of the film feels unnecessary, and the shift in focus between both men doesn't fully work. Despite these flaws, however, The Master succeeds on its own terms. While it may not be Anderson's masterpiece, it's certainly unlike anything else you're likely to see all year.

Silver Linings Playbook ★★★★

A Playbook of Great Filmmaking

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Unconventional comedies seem to be on the rise as the end of 2012 approaches. We've had The Sessions, a sex comedy about polio, and now Silver Linings Playbook, a comedy (of sorts) about mental illness.

Bradley Cooper stars as Pat Solitano, a bipolar, former substitute teacher, who has just been released from a mental institution after eight months. The reason for his time has to do with an affair his wife had and the beating he gave her lover as a result. During his stay he learned that there are silver linings to everything and that if he remains positive, good things will happen - at least that's what he keeps telling himself.

He comes home to live with his parents, played nicely by Robert De Niro and Jacki Weaver. His father is a sports nut who recently lost his pension and bets what little money he has on The Philadelphia Eagles. He superstitiously believes Pat to be a good luck charm, imploring Pat to watch the games with him. Pat, however, is preoccupied with ways that he can try to win his wife back, even though she has a restraining order on him. Later, at a dinner party, he meets Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence), a widow who  offers to help him in his quest if he agrees to be her dance partner in an upcoming competition.

Lawrence delivers yet another Oscar-worthy performance, nearly stealing the movie from everyone else involved. She plays Tiffany with absolute conviction, bringing out the ferocity and sincerity of her character. She's sexy, smart and damaged, searching - perhaps in all the wrong places - for a connection in the wake of her husband's death. Her scenes with Cooper, which take up a majority of the film, are what truly make this movie great, allowing both actors to showcase their skills just by having a conversation.

It's also nice to see Bradley Cooper doing something we haven't seen before, finally getting a role he deserves. Pat is not an easy part to play, to say the least, as he has to be manic, confused, scared, compassionate, inappropriate and likable all at the same time. He is, after all, bipolar. Cooper doesn't shy away from bringing out the crazy. In one scene that's effectively difficult to watch, Pat goes berserk in the middle of the night searching for his wedding video, accidentally hitting his mom in the process. Your heart breaks for him, yet you can't help but be frightened of him at the same time. He's doing the best that he can in service of his newfound philosophy.

His attitude, and resulting actions, are what make Silver Linings special. Everyone within the story wants to be better, even if it's at times motivated by selfishness: Pat wants his wife back and does kind things to show her that he's changed; Tiffany wants Pat to fall in love with her, begrudgingly helping him so that he'll be her dance partner; and Pat's father wants Pat to watch the Eagles games with him, under the guise of superstition, but really just to spend time with his son. They're trying to do the right thing and good things start happening as a result.

This is a film that doesn't shy away from its own optimism; it relishes in it. When it begins, you have no hope for Pat or the other characters. They all seem beyond help, yet as the movie progresses you see what each character brings out in the other and gradually become more invested in their triumph over their struggles. It's the sincere kind of film that, were he alive today, Frank Capra (director of It's A Wonderful Life) would surely have directed, and one that would have been considered one of his many "Capra-corns".

Instead, the directing duties fall to David O. Russell, who brings a certain style to the story (which he adapted from the novel by Matthew Quick) better than Capra could have in many ways. He shoots mostly in closeup, conveying the discomfort and claustrophobia of Pat's character feeling like he's being smothered. These closeups also bring out the insanity we all feel when we've been around our family for too long, which is perfect for this story. Russell seems to be telling us that no matter how normal any of us think we are, we're all a little bit crazy.

Russell has made a terrific film and, like the best of Capra's work, has delivered a message we shouldn't roll our eyes at and instead wholeheartedly embrace. A tour de force of both acting and directing, Silver Linings Playbook illustrates the power and inspiration that great filmmaking can achieve.

The Sessions ★★★

Polio Is No Obstacle In A Man's Quest To Have Sex

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

A comedy about a polio survivor trying to lose his virginity is not a sentence I thought I would ever use to describe a film, but The Sessions is exactly that.

John Hawkes stars as Mark O'Brien, a man who lives his life inside an iron lung, save for the few hours a day he is able to breathe on his own. As a child, he contracted polio and has been paralyzed from the neck down ever since. He's also a devout Catholic, routinely confessing to his priest, Father Brendan (William H. Macy), who gives him advice and also serves as perhaps Mark's closest friend. When Mark decides he wants to lose his virginity at thirty eight years of age, he's put in touch with a sex surrogate named Cheryl (Helen Hunt) who tells him that they will have a total of six sessions, each one furthering his sexual experience.

The film is based on an article written by the real-life O'Brien about these sessions, and it turns out to be quite funny. Like some of the best comedies about teenagers trying to lose their virginity, The Sessions takes that idea and applies it to an area that most films tend to shy away from: the sexual desires of an older man who has never experienced a woman's touch as a result of his handicap. It's an idea that when first heard, you tend to tilt your head and think about it for a second, before realizing that it's brilliant and quite refreshing given the current state of comedies about sex.

Hawkes is fearless as Mark and he gives a beautiful performance as this man who underneath it all just wants to meet the right woman. He's charming, caring and, like a teenager getting to experience sex for the first time, is quite misguided. In the first act of the film it seems as though Mark will fall for any beautiful woman that gives him attention, but it's not because he's shallow, rather, he thinks it's love. There's considerable precision for an actor to have in a role like this and Hawkes nails it. You feel for Mark and can't help but remember your own experiences (we've all had them) where you thought attention meant something more than it was. It's all due to how Hawkes makes Mark relatable to the audience, however foreign his circumstances seem.

In addition, he's incredibly funny in the role. There's a sense of joy and wonder to Mark that's completely genuine and incredibly infectious. The key to all of the comedy that ensues is Hawkes' decision to play every scene straight, instead of trying to push something funny. His reactions are all real, as opposed to going for, say, a punchline in certain scenes. He trusts that the comedy is there in the script and stays true to his take on Mark being a guy who is simply eager to experience something new.

Playing off of what Hawkes does in these scenes are Hunt and Macy, both terrific in their roles. Cheryl is not a character you would immediately associate with Ms. Hunt, but what she brings to the role immediately reveals why she's perfect for the role. In Cheryl's first scene with Mark, she's completely nude and explains the rules of their relationship in a very casual manner, achieving both a vulnerability and a commanding nature to the character. Hunt is fearless as Cheryl and is quite the perfect match for Mark's awkward inexperience.

Mr. Macy on the other hand makes the decision to play Father Brendan as a friend to Mark first, his priest second, and that works in the film's favor. Father Brendan is new at the church, and from the moment he and Mark first meet, there's instant chemistry, which hints that Mark has never really had a best friend to talk to about what he's feeling. Macy also helps to bring out some of the comedy, specifically in his reactions to Mark's sexual desires.

It's the three leads that make The Sessions an enjoyable film, as well as the decision by writer/director Ben Lewin (a polio survivor himself) to make the film a comedy, even if, at times, Lewin seems to struggle with tone. There are scenes in the movie - such as one involving Cheryl's theory that Mark blames himself for his sister's death as a child and as a result he feels undeserving of pleasure - that suggest a much darker film. I had the sense that there was a story Lewin wanted to explore further but decided to abandon in favor of a more lighthearted tale.

Furthermore the ending is a mixed bag of emotions and feels more abrupt than natural. Without spoiling what happens, I'll say that a character who ends up being significant to Mark shows up in the last five minutes of the movie, and you can't help but ask why that person is not introduced much earlier and explored a little more. Lewin seems to abandon the comedy and go straight for the heart instead of maintaining the feel good nature of the story. It's this tonal shift that prevents the film from being great, which is unfortunate considering how good the rest of the film is.

The actors made me forgive this misstep at the end of the film, enough to still call The Sessions a good movie. Hawkes continues to prove what an amazing, talented actor he is with every new role and Mark is the perfect vehicle for Hawkes to showcase these skills. It's a film that's saved by the actors involved, all of whom bring a certain commitment to their roles that is both admirable and enjoyable. If you're in the mood for an unconventional sexual comedy, The Sessions will surely lift your spirits.

End of Watch ★★½

The Found Footage Genre Applied To A Buddy Cop Movie Proves Ineffective

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

An up close and personal look at the lives of two hotshot police officers patrolling South Central, End of Watch is about as gritty as it gets. Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Peña star as Brian and Mike, two Los Angeles cops who get more than they bargained for on an almost weekly basis. Brian is taking college classes on the side, one of which happens to be a film course. For one of his projects, he decides to outfit himself and Mike with mini-cameras so that whoever watches his finished film will get a first person perspective of their daily routines.

The interesting stylistic choice on the part of writer/director David Ayer, who has an obvious affection for the found footage genre, is abandoned midway through the movie. But it's not unwelcome, considering within the first twenty minutes or so even the criminals that Brian and Mike are chasing have cameras, the reasons for which are never explained. Once the switch occurs, you're immediately aware of it and it takes away from some of the film's emotional impact; you no longer believe in the vision of South Central Ayer set out to show us. Instead, you realize that this is just hyper stylized world that is nothing more than the creation of a gifted filmmaker.

This is not to say that the film doesn't have certain things going for it. Gyllenhaal and Peña have terrific chemistry, so much so that even when Ayer is is making mistakes stylistically you still believe that these guys are actually cops. Gyllenhaal's Brian is tough and brazen, pushing the limits of his job a little too far, while Peña plays Mike equally as assertive as Brian is, albeit with a more level head on his shoulders. You immediately see why these two are not only partners but best friends, and they keep you invested in their story.

That story is one that leads to a lot of dead bodies, mangled cops and the Mexican cartel, all of which seems like a little too much over the span of time that the movie covers, which seems to be about a year, maybe two. While both leads are good, Ayer, for all the realism he's going for, doesn't seem to have a grip on reality. He's too chaotic for a movie about chaotic circumstances and too indecisive to stay with one style. The result is a film that happens to have solid performances from its actors but falls short of being anything memorable.

The Truth Is Out There ★★★½

Picking Up Where Mulder And The Lone Gunmen Left Off

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

When people ask me what my favorite show on television was my response is The X-Files, without even thinking about it. It’s a show that continues to have a special place in my heart because it represented nerdy guys like myself and did so respectfully. That representation was perhaps best illustrated by Mulder’s (David Duchovny) three wisecracking sidekicks known as The Lone Gunmen. These characters we so popular that there was a even a spin-off series entitled, The Lone Gunmen, that put these guys front and center, focusing each week on their misadventures. That series was cancelled and after The X-Files ended its nine-year run it seemed as though that would be the last we would see these three heroes and the world of conspiracy they and the show opened up. At least until now.

Dean Haglund, who played Langly - the computer hacking, Ramones loving, longhaired rebel - has returned - or perhaps never left - in a documentary released last year by Phil Leirness aptly called, The Truth Is Out There. Mr. Haglund has very much remained in the world of conspiracy, attending various conventions all over the world in search of a universal truth. The documentary explores this journey and asks if that truth is attainable.

The film begins by introducing us to the veteran television actor, showcasing his skills as an improv comic and following him around several conventions as he talks with people about the nature of conspiracy. At first each conspiracy seems different from the other, but about 10 minutes in you start seeing how every one of them connects to another. Every person Mr. Haglund interviews has something both fascinating and, at times, quite disturbing to say.

An example of this comes from the interviewee who I thought was most engaging, G. Edward Griffin. In talking about cancer and how it’s currently treated, he argues that the focus should not be on killing tumors but instead asking the question of why the tumor grew where it did in the first place. Furthermore, he mentions that there are certain areas of the world where cancer is virtually unheard of because amygdalin - a compound that when used properly attacks cancer cells - is found in much of the food that the people in these areas consume. It is eye-opening, jaw-dropping material that illustrates this film's importance. Other theories that may surprise viewers include a moment where Mr. Haglund states that the Kennedy assassination was actually a suicide and a moment in Berlin when Mr. Leirness, who appears briefly, talks about the theory that certain filmmakers and showrunners, including Chris Carter, are mouthpieces for The Illuminati.

For me, the most disturbing area explored in the documentary was in relation to our food supply, which is explained by Dr. Stanley Monteith. He states that roughly 85% of our corn and 90% of our soy is genetically modified for the purposes of sterilizing the population. You may feel the urge to roll your eyes at a statement like that, but if you reserve judgement and listen to what he has to say, you might start paying closer attention to what you eat.

What the film does best is give voice to these people who are usually silenced or ignored. It dives head first into territory that many might find uncomfortable, with Mr. Haglund serving as our tour guide. One of the complaints I’ve heard about the film is that it’s two long (it clocks in at just under two-and-a-half hours) and that some of the people interviewed could have been cut. This is truly a subjective criticism (but then again, aren’t they all?) in that this is one of those rare movies that give no two people the same experience. The interviewees I enjoyed most could very well be the people that someone else feels could have been cut and vice versa. It’s that attribute that makes this film such an enjoyable experience despite some of the difficult areas it explores.

In addition, it's a film that welcomes repeated viewing; you get something new out of it each time. There is a lot of information thrown at you and at times it's hard to keep everything straight, as this is such unfamiliar subject matter for most people. (I have about three pages worth of notes from my most recent viewing.) It's an example of a filmmaker showing respect to his subject matter, giving them the platform upon which to stand.

It's as much a film about Mr. Haglund as it is the "friends of truth" as they're known, which at first might confuse the people who seek this film out. However, at one critical point in the film, Mr. Haglund states that as a young man he was often criticized for not sticking with one thing. In that scene everything about the film becomes clear: We've jumped from conspiracy to conspiracy, country to country, and learned who Mr. Haglund is along the way. What better way to exemplify this man than to show us what his life is like through the film's editing? Mr. Leirness, who in addition to directing edited the film, deserves an award for editing all of this material and doing so in such a way as to serve who Mr. Haglund is.

What The Lone Gunmen series did was show that unlikely heroes exist all around us and in many forms. These were characters unafraid to find the truth, going so far as to sacrifice their lives to save many others at the end of The X-Files' run. My favorite line of the show came from Byers (Bruce Harwood, who reunites with Mr. Haglund and Tom Braidwood in the film) who tells his colleagues, "We never gave up and we never will. In the end if that's the best they can say about us, it'll do." It's comforting to know that Mr. Haglund is still fighting the good fight and that the themes both shows explored all those years ago on television remain an integral part of this man's life.

Take This Waltz ★★★½

Exploring Relationships Both New And Old

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

Many films in the past have dealt with the subject of relationships in flux; a couple that at one time were so in love to the point where they could not control themselves but over time have lost much of that initial passion. Take This Waltz, the highly anticipated second feature from writer and director Sarah Polley, provides unique examination into this type of couple.

Michelle Williams stars as Margot, a freelance writer living in Toronto, Canada, with her husband Lou (Seth Rogen), a cookbook author. She tries to be sexual and spontaneous with him but for whatever reason, he's not as interested as she'd like. Meanwhile, she meets a rickshaw driver named Daniel (Luke Kirby), who also happens to live across the street from her, and their instant attraction is undeniable. 

The theme of the film is the idea that new things get old, and while it is a pessimistic view of how relationships work, Polley dives into the subject matter head first, never straying away from the story she wants to tell. That sense of something new is explored in one very sexual - and at times uncomfortable - scene in which Margot asks Daniel to describe what he would do to her if he could have her. It's an odd scene to witness in that I'm sure no two people will have the same reaction to it, but it works perfectly. It illustrates Polley's gift for adding her own spin to something that has been explored numerous times. Juxtaposed with that scene is one that occurs toward the end of the film, where a montage illustrating the passing of time shows a relationship beginning and then settling into comfortability, with their sexual appetite gradually fading. Polley's stance is that no matter who one is with, eventually we all feel unfulfilled. 

Polley excels in scenes like these but loses some of her touch in others. I don't think she's particularly gifted at showing how couples behave around one another. The scenes with Rogen and Williams are not all that believable, largely because I don't think any genuine couple "play" as they do. I think Polley intends to make these two characters seem cute - they speak in baby talk, express their love by saying things like, "I love you so much I'm going to mash your head in with a potato masher," but the result makes them more annoying than anything else. In addition, Rogen seems horribly miscast as Lou. He's an actor I have never really admired, and he proves why there's not that much to his talent in his scenes. Rogen seems uncomfortable and awkward playing a loving - albeit somewhat distanced - husband. The argument could be made that this is due to how the character is written, but I disagree. Rogen simply does not know how to play a character in love.  

While Rogen fails to be endearing in any sense, others in the film are very memorable, such as Sarah Silverman as Margot's sister-in-law and recovering alcoholic, Geraldine. Silverman steals every scene she's in and proves some of the best comics in the business have even more to offer in a dramatic role. In addition, Williams displays her innate talent by making her character sympathetic and likable, despite the fact that she's doing this despicable act to her husband. Whatever your belief on sustaining a relationship, she makes us understand why she's seeking out this other man through her performance. It's a tricky part to play but Williams owns it. 

Polley's directing and certain performances are not the only elements that stand out in Take This Waltz. One of the most important aspects in any film, at least for me, is the use of location as a character. The film was shot and takes place in Toronto, and cinematography by Luc Montpellier conveys a love and admiration for this beautiful city. We believe that these characters live in Toronto (despite their lack of any kind of Canadian accent) and the story immerses us in Toronto's culture. Thus, Take This Waltz is a film of this time and of that place.

For these, and many other reasons, Take This Waltz won me over, despite its flaws. Polley is a gifted filmmaker who knows the story she wants to tell and adheres to it, no matter how uncomfortable certain scenes might make her audience. She's a director deserving of our attention as well as our praise and one whose future films I'm excited to see.

Your Sister's Sister ★

This Is What Talking Around Different Tables Looks Like

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Early on in Your Sister's Sister, the new film from writer/director Lynn Shelton, you get the sense that there's a better story to tell than the one the the film ultimately ends up exploring.

Jack, played by Mark Duplass, is still grieving over the death of his brother after a year, so his best friend, Iris (Emily Blunt), suggests that he retreat to her family's cabin on an island off the Washington coast to recover.

Isolation, it seems, is the best medicine when one already feels utterly alone.

Once Jack arrives, however, he finds the cabin already occupied by Hannah (Rosemarie DeWitt), Iris's lesbian, vegan sister. It doesn't take very long for Jack and Hannah to become drinking buddies, as Hannah has just walked out on a seven-year relationship and Jack takes comfort in meeting someone more miserable than he's been. Inevitably the two decide in their drunken stupor that the best option is to sleep with one another.

The rest of the film involves what I assume Shelton and Co. thought were funny ways that Jack and Hannah try to keep their affair a secret from Iris, who shows up the following morning to surprise Jack. As I watched I kept wondering why Jack was so concerned about Iris finding out about what happened with Hannah. Iris, after all, was Jack's brother's girlfriend so the stakes never seem that high as to warrant most of ninety-minute runtime to be devoted to guarding this secret.

It's the decision to focus on this story, instead of what losing a brother can do to someone, that the film lost me. Blunt and DeWitt are so good in their scenes together that you can't help but want more. Jack witnesses what Iris and Hannah are like together and clearly misses having that connection with his brother, but Shelton is uninterested in going there. There's even a scene in the third act where Jack tells Iris that he can never come between them - that their sibling relationship is something sacred, something Iris can never know the way Jack does because he's lost it. It's a powerful scene that reinforces where the story should have gone and how the film could have landed its own unique emotional impact. Instead, the film becomes an examination of actors sitting around a table and talking about nothing of substance.

Shelton has openly stated that she likes to let her actors create their own dialogue and not feel as though they have to stick to the script. This kind of improvisation can work if the actors know what they're doing. Duplass is not one of those actors and is dreadful from beginning to end making the film almost unwatchable. It's only when Blunt and DeWitt share scenes that Shelton's approach works, and even then it feels like if there had been more direction, the film may have worked.

What we end up with are several reveals in the third act that are completely unconvincing: Iris tells Hannah a major secret she's been keeping from Jack; Hannah's intentions with Jack are not what they originally appeared to be; Jack admits that he's not the best human being in the world. In other words, Shelton realized that she needed an ending to her film about actors sitting around different tables and talking. Within the span of about fifteen minutes, Your Sister's Sister becomes a melodrama wherein all hope seems lost and these characters seemed doomed to suffer for all of their poor decision-making. Then, suddenly, every single plot point is wrapped up all neat and nice and we realize we that this entire movie was a farce.

If there's one thing we can take away from Your Sister's Sister, it's that Blunt and DeWitt are two extraordinary actors. We're reminded of their better work (Blunt most recently in The Five Year Engagement and DeWitt in Rachel Getting Married) and shown that even with material as terrible as this, they'll own it and make us believe every scene that they're in.

Bernie ★★★½

Jack Black Can Act! Who Knew?

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

For those who hate Jack Black, and those who love him, the new film Bernie, from director Richard Linklater may just be the film that brings both camps together. Black stars as the title character Bernie Tiede, an assistant mortician in the small East Texas town of Carthage, and a man who is loved by the community for his charity, his empathy for those who have just lost a close relative, and his ability to sing any song by request at church.

Oh, and he also killed an old woman named Marjorie Nugent (played fiercely by Shirley MacLaine) and hid her body in a freezer for several months without anyone knowing about it.

Oh, and this is all based on a true story.

Sounds quite creepy, right? Well, in fact the opposite is true, as Linklater and co-writer Skip Hollandsworth decided to make this true story more of a comedy than drama. In fact, I wouldn't even call it dark comedy, but rather a lighthearted documentary-like film, with elements of a crime thriller interspersed throughout. It's been done before, yes, but never (at least in recent years) with a more capable actor than Black in a role that quite frankly could have been acted completely wrong.

Black plays Bernie with just the right level of ambiguity: we don't know if he is truly psychotic or if he did genuinely have a moment where he just lost it; we don't know (though it's certainly speculated by the townsfolk) whether or not Bernie is gay; and perhaps the biggest question, at least for me, is that we don't know what Bernie's true motivations were for all of the donations he made to the town of Carthage. Was it all an elaborate plan to get people to like him? Was he truly that good? We'll never know. What remains by the time the credits role, is the certainty that Black has just played the role of his career. He's never over-the-top, nor is he too reserved. He just embodies this character and plays him without fear (Black actually met with the real-life Bernie and studied his mannerisms to make sure he played the part right).

At odds with Bernie's goodness is Marjorie, the mean old curmudgeon hated by all of Carthage.  MacLaine is so viciously evil in her portrayal of Marjorie that it's hard to sympathize with her at all. At about the time everyone finds out what's happened to her in the film, we, too, begin to justify Bernie's actions. Bernie and Marjorie's scenes together at first feel like 'the start of a beautiful friendship', then as the months and years go by, become strangely intimate and finally, just before Marjorie's death, quite hard to watch. We see how tortured and conflicted Bernie is as he tries to remain the lovable man he's always been, despite having the thankless job of being Marjorie's caregiver.

Real-life Carthage residents provide commentary on the events that unfolded, one woman explaining that some of the locals would have shot Marjorie for five dollars, and others still in disbelief that Bernie actually murdered her. The character in the film apparently immune to Bernie's charms, and really the only voice of reason, is Danny Buck Davidson (played by Matthew McConaughey) the district attorney of Carthage. He's the audience's window into a town that eerily feels like a cult when the subject of Bernie comes up. He's a part of the town, but he's the outsider looking in, outnumbered and having to react quickly if he wants to successfully convict Bernie.

All of these elements add to the fun that is Bernie. Linklater establishes a tone that neither makes fun of the events that transpired, nor takes itself too seriously. I walked out of the film wondering if Bernie, or at least Black's portrayal of Bernie, cast a spell over me as well, considering that despite having seen him do it in the film, I didn't want to believe that he shot Marjorie in cold blood. If there's one thing Linklater's successful with in Bernie, it's creating reasonable doubt in his audience despite explicitly showing us the crime.

Black's performance is one that I doubt will be considered come awards season, but nonetheless one that should be nominated in a best actor category. Is it a serious role? No. Is it one that defies all odds and overcomes adversity? No.

But it is one that shows us that just like Bernie, there's more to Jack Black than meets the eye.

Sound Of My Voice ★½

Never Confuse Laziness With Being Clever

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

There is a fine line between open endings in movies and plain laziness in the writing. Sound of My Voice is a film that unfortunately falls into the latter by leaving too many plot lines unresolved.

The film focuses on a couple, Peter (Christopher Denham) and Lorna (Nicole Vicius), who decide to make a documentary about a cult in Los Angeles led by a mysterious woman named Maggie (Brit Marling, co-writer of the film) who claims to be from the future. Her mission is to rescue a select few before a supposed big event occurs, and bring them back with her.

It's an eerie premise for sure, but there is no real payoff to any of the storylines in the film. At one point, Maggie says she needs Peter to prove himself by bringing her a young girl, Abigail (Avery Kristen Pohl) from the school Peter substitute teaches at. This little girl exemplifies autistic-like tendencies: she's withdrawn, does not really speak, and focuses on building extremely detailed lego structures. In one quite disturbing scene, her father tells her that it is time to go to bed. He then lays her down on the bed and injects something in between her toes. That's all we see, and there are no other clues (as far as I could tell) in the film as to what was going on. Why Maggie wants this young girl I won't spoil in this review except to say that it's a major twist. In addition to that loose end, there's a completely separate storyline about a detective (Davenia McFadden) in search of Maggie who claims that Maggie is some sort of a con artist wanted by the government for some time. She tells Lorna that the reason Maggie wants Abigail for a much more sinister reason than what Maggie tells Peter, but we're never told what that reason is.

This review would have been entirely different if these stories had some sort of resolution because there would be enough substance within those stories to warrant the ending that this film provides. Instead, the ending just comes across as one more plot point that the filmmakers did not feel like resolving. It's as if they (Brit Marling and co-writer/director Zal Batmanglij) had a good idea for a film but had no idea where they were going with it when they started writing and then decided to try and come across as clever and mysterious by leaving the audience to decide for themselves what they have just seen. If this was their original intent then I'm sorry. Bad writing is bad writing, plain and simple.

The writing is bad not only in story, but in character as well. There was not much to like about Peter and Lorna. Early on in the film, we find out that Peter's mother was part of a cult when he was just a boy and because of her beliefs, she refused treatment for her cancer and subsequently died, leaving Peter an angry and lost child. His curiosity surpasses his ability to see things for they way they are and leads him to ignore warnings from Lorna that they may be in over their head, which of course, they are. Lorna is a bit more of a sympathetic character (she's a recovering drug addict and the only voice of reason in the whole movie) but she comes across as a kind of bored character throughout, and Peter is just plain irritating. Watching he and Lorna together you begin to wonder what ever attracted these two to one another, except the fact that neither of them seem to be going anywhere in life. That sounds harsh, but at one point the two fight and verbally attack one another, revealing that they've both never done what they truly want to do. Peter's motivation for infiltrating the cult is clear from his past, but Lorna is only in it to say that she did something worthwhile, or so it seems. But these characters are our way into this world; they're the audience, but their unpleasantness made me not want to follow them.

The one solid performance in Sound of My Voice that is worth mentioning is Brit Marling as Maggie. She plays her in such a way that she seems calm, cool and collected on the outside, but behind her eyes you see a sort of evil presence that made me feel like she was about to do something horrible in every scene she was in. She gives the feeling that you're in a horror film; you're waiting for the monster to pop out from the dark when you look into her eyes. It works quite effectively because you're never sure what to expect from her, not unlike John Hawkes performance in last year's, Martha Marcy May Marlene, (a far superior film about what it's like to be in a cult). Marling's performance is a glimmer of hope in a film that fails because of its own laziness.

Like the two leads in the film, I entered into this world hoping to find something truly memorable and shocking. Instead, I walked out feeling like all the money in my wallet was stolen from a cult that seemed too good to be true.

Monsieur Lazhar ★★½

A Film That Misses The Mark On The Teacher/Student Relationship

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Teaching is perhaps the most underrated profession in the world. The greatest teachers inspire us to do even more than our very best and they leave a lasting impression on us; They make a difference in our lives. This idea is at the center of Monsieur Lazhar, a film that tries, unsuccessfully, to show what it means to be a teacher in our present time.

The film opens in Montreal with a troubled boy, Simon (Émilien Néron), seeing his teacher Martine (Héléna Laliberté) hanging lifelessly from the ceiling of her classroom. The rest of the film shows how the students deal with their teacher's death. In addition to Simon, Alice (Sophie Nélisse) managed to get a glimpse of Martine as well and becomes the central voice for what all of the students are feeling. Desperate for a replacement teacher, the school principle, Madame Vaillancourt (Danielle Proulx) hires Bachir Lazhar (Mohamed Saïd Fellag), an Algerian immigrant desperate for a teaching position. He, of course, is not Martine and the students have a tough time getting used to his teaching methods. He rearranges their desks from a semicircle to straight rows, makes them do dictations on stories they find boring, and slaps a student in the back of the head for throwing something at another student. Lazhar quickly learns from Madame Vaillancourt that the relationship between teacher and student forbids physical contact of any kind, including a hug or encouraging tap on the back, and especially hitting a student for misbehaving.

The film is trying to show how hard it is to be a good teacher with the rules and restrictions that we currently have, but it's almost afraid to really delve into those issues and bring them to the surface. For instance, Lazhar tries unsuccessfully throughout the film to get Madame Vaillancourt to let the students talk about death openly in the school. While she wants them to discuss their feelings with the school's designated child psychiatrist (Nicole-Sylvie Lagarde), she does not wish for Martine's suicide to be open and continued conversation within the school. In very much the same manner, the film is almost afraid to let issues like the subject of death or hugging a student be open for discussion. They're mentioned, but not dealt with, which takes away from the film's impact.

In addition, I never fully believed that Lazhar was making that big of an impact in his students' lives. He tries to inspire them to do more, but because their former teacher's suicide is still fresh in their minds, he never quite reaches them. Alice is the only student of his that seems to be taken with him and he later admits that she is in fact his favorite. He learns through his students how he can be a better teacher, but we don't get that scene that I feel the film needed. Yes, by this point it may seem cliché, but if ever a film needed the famous teacher and students finally understanding each other and learning to work together scene, it's Monsieur Lazhar.

To be clear, I'm not saying this is a bad film. It's a good movie that could have been great if the filmmakers had just explored the issues with teachers and students a little better. I hoped this film would bring something new to the teacher and student films like Dead Poets Society, which isn't to say that it had to be that film. It felt like an okay addition to this genre of films instead of something fresh and original.

Keyhole ★★★

Gangsters And Ghosts In A House From Director Guy Maddin. 'Nuff Said.

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

The more films I see, the more I realize that what attracts me the most is something that is so inventive and original that, while it might not make sense at first, I'm always thinking about it. Keyhole meets that criteria in its opening scene alone with the rest of the film adding to my excitement and bewilderment. In a video interview at The Toronto International Film Festival, Guy Maddin himself said, "What I really wanted to make was an autobiography of a house.", which is probably the best way to describe exactly what Keyhole is about.

The house is truly the central character of the film, which stars Jason Patrick as Ulysses Pick, a gangster who leads his men to said house to hide out while on the run from the police. Ulysses, it turns out, has come back to his former home to search for his wife, Hyacinth, played by Isabella Rossellini, one of many ghosts still occupying the residence.

Nothing is quite as it seems in Keyhole; Ulysses is suffering from some sort of memory loss, but seems unconcerned with the fact that there are ghosts all around him; In the beginning of the film one of the gangsters asks their dead hostages to face the wall and the live ones to face him; characters show up randomly in the house such as a doctor played by Udo Kier; and a woman, Denny (Brooke Palsson), has supposedly drowned or is currently drowning yet is helping Ulysses by seemingly channeling Hyacinth, allowing him to speak with her. If what I'm saying does not make any sense, don't worry - that's because it doesn't. And yet in some strange way it does...

This is a house that has seen some pretty extraordinary things, and if we look at the film as the story of a house populated by the ghosts of its past, it all somehow comes together. In other words, Ulysses is not struggling with memory loss, the house is remembering certain moments from his life in it. Depending on the room he's in, different memories resurface.

If you watch the trailer for the film you'll see what you're in for should you decide to watch Keyhole. It's a wild ride full of disturbing images with fragmented dialogue and bizarre characters - and it is one of the most stimulating movies I have had the privilege of watching. It's fun if you just watch how the movie unfolds without worrying about the plot. It's Maddin's vision of a house with gangsters and ghosts thrown into the mix.

Keyhole certainly won't be for everyone. Maddin has often been called the Canadian David Lynch, a point that I completely agree with. Both Lynch and Maddin make movies that redefine the medium; they show us what movies are capable of. So if I had to describe what it's like watching a movie by either of these men, I feel it's best to end with a quote from Lynch's show, Twin Peaks: "I have no idea where this will lead us, but I have a definite feeling it will be a place both wonderful and strange."

4:44: Last Day On Earth ★

A Sadly Missed Opportunity

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando and Jason Umpleby

If you knew that the world would end at 4:44 A.M. the following morning, what would you do? That question is at the heart of Abel Ferrara's film and it is one that accurately depicts what would most likely happen if this scenario were occurring in real life.

The film focuses on two characters: Cisco (Willem Dafoe) and Skye (Shanyn Leigh); a couple living in New York trying to accept a fate from which neither of them can escape. We're shown their various stages of grief throughout the day that each of them experiences, and how those emotions impact their next action.

I have to say that while I admire the courage of this film, I cannot necessarily recommend it. There are films that have been depressing beyond the point that we should still like them, yet we do. This, unfortunately, is not one of them. While I understand Ferrara's point - that even if the world is ending we cannot lose who we are - I'm not so sure it's handled in an interesting enough way for film.

Looking at the main characters, Cisco and Skye are two people that no matter how hard I tried, I was never rooting for them in any way. They're not very compelling on-screen, though Dafoe does his best with the material he's given, and there's never a moment where I felt genuine sympathy for either of them. There's visually no chemistry between them - much less attraction to one another - which makes me wonder why they were ever a couple in the first place. I think that for a story/film like this to work, and for Ferrara to achieve his desired goal, we need to really fall in love with these characters thereby making us really care about who they are so that when the issue arises, we want them to stay true to themselves. There is none of that in this movie.

There's a scene where Cisco, after having quite an uncomfortable fight with Skye, goes to an old friend's house in an attempt to get high one last time. Yes, randomly we learn that Cisco is a recovering drug addict, sober for a little over two years. One of his friends (also recovering) explains to Cisco that he's proud of the man he has become and he's not willing to sacrifice that just because everyone is about to die. He argues that Cisco should feel the same about his own life. Cisco doesn't agree. A scene like this could work if it had been established earlier that he was an addict, and was still struggling with on a daily basis. Instead, we wonder why he's headed to this apartment until it's casually revealed through conversation that he once had drug problems.

Having said all that, I found this film to be better than the 2011 favorite, Melancholia, because the end of the world is used to examine the very meaning of humanity, whereas Melancholia felt like two separate stories that were forced into one another. It should be noted, however, that if there was a way to put a film in a less-than-zero category, Melancholia would be there.

I wish 4:44 had more to offer. Sadly, it made me wish the world was ending just so I would not have to endure these two characters any longer. 

Footnote ★★★½

A Unique Look At A Father/Son Rivalry

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Relationships between father and son are complicated to say the least. The film Footnote offers a darkly comical take on that relationship by setting the story in the world of academia, specifically in the Talmudic Research Department of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. The father, Eliezer Shkolnik (Shlomo Bar Aba) is a philologist who studies different versions of the Jerusalem Talmud adhering to a strict view of their meaning. Eliezer is an outcast because of his old-school beliefs. Years back, another Professor, Yehuda Grossman (Micah Lewensohn), found similar results as Eliezer in his research but published them ahead of him, leaving Eliezer’s thirty years of work now pointless. It should be noted that Eliezer’s only claim to fame is a footnote in one of his former mentor’s books that everyone except Eliezer has long since forgotten. Meanwhile, Eliezer’s son Uriel (Lior Ashkenazi) is perhaps the most popular professor at the University, whose work does not include such a strict interpretation of Talmudic texts. Eliezer finds everything that Uriel believes in to be simple speculation and thus not worthy of his respect.

For years Eliezer has hoped to win the Israel Prize in recognition of his work and each year he has become more saddened and bitter because he never wins. Elsewhere, Uriel has made the point that as long as his father is alive and hoping to win the Israel Prize, he does not want to be recommended for the honor. When a mix up of names occurs, Eliezer is mistakenly told that he will be receiving the award he has so long hoped for, even though unbeknownst to him the award was intended to be given to Uriel.

What I love about this film is how it takes this idea of the father son strained relationship and raises the stakes to the highest level by placing true animosity on the role of the father to the son. Eliezer is a bitter old man who never got over being cheated out of his life’s work. Thirty years of work suddenly being taken away is something I think we can all sympathize with. Uriel on the other hand at first comes across as egotistical, then slowly throughout the film reveals himself to be an honorable man, still seeking his father’s respect and admiration.

There’s one scene in particular that lasts about ten minutes that I’m just in awe of. It’s got everything one could want in a movie: comedy, drama and yes, some suspense. It’s the scene where Uriel is called into the crammed office of the Israeli Prize committee to be informed of their error. In it, Uriel begs them to just give his father the award because, as Uriel states, he deserves it. One of the members on the committee is Professor Grossman, who has no intention of ever awarding Eliezer the Israel Prize. It’s a powerful scene; one that I think no matter who you are, you could sympathize with. For me, it’s the son pleading for his father in the most compassionate way that hits me hard. If it sounds like Uriel is trying to save his father’s life, well, he is. He tells the committee that if his father finds out about the error, it will likely kill him. Eliezer is a man so desperate for respect that to finally think he’s achieved it only to have it taken away would most likely drive him to suicide. Uriel, for all intents and purposes, puts his life on the line to help his father.

The whole film basically shows us the perspectives of each character; Uriel doing his best to get his father the award he deserves, and Eliezer running his mouth about his son’s “superficial” work, enraging Uriel to no end. The film is quite intense in that we never know what either character might do or say to the other. We see Uriel reaching his breaking point the more his father ridicules his profession, yet we see Eliezer’s determination to get the respect he feels his son and others have stolen from him and we’re sympathetic to both stories. It’s almost as if we either don’t know who to root for, or we’re rooting for both characters equally.

Keep in mind that this is all set within the world of academic research; a field that largely in my opinion goes under-appreciated in our country. Joseph Cedar, the director of this film does a brilliant job raising the stakes as it were and showing us how complex not only the research field is, but also how difficult the relationships between fathers and sons can be. I’m used to seeing films where the son just wants to make his father proud. Yes, there’s a large amount of that in this film and it all works. But for me, what sets this film apart from any other is the portrayal of the father whose desperate to achieve what his son has; just a little respect.

Footnote is currently playing at The Maple Theatre in Bloomfield Hills. 

Jiro Dreams Of Sushi ★★★★

This May Just Be The Best Film of 2012

Written by Matt Giles
Edited by Erin Accomando

Jiro Ono is an 85-year-old world-renowned sushi chef who, despite his age and experience with preparing sushi, is still looking to perfect his craft. Reservations for his restaurant, Sukiyabashi Jiro, have to be made a month, sometimes a year in advance. As we’re told in the film by a Japanese food critic, the meal might be very quick but well worth the wait to be able to sit in Jiro’s restaurant. This documentary by David Gelb chronicles the day-in and day-out life of Jiro, illustrating what kind of man he is and how he got to be the sushi chef he’s become. The answer is simple really, as Jiro tells us: “You have to love what you do.”

That principle is a large part of why this film is so good. For anyone out there who has ever had a dream about doing what they love, it shows us what can become of someone truly devoted to their love in life. Those of us who say that we do what we love might walk out of the film feeling like they’ve forgotten that passion that made them want to enter into their respective careers in the first place. At one point Jiro asks why anyone who “does what they love” have any complaints about the job? If they love it, there should be no complaints, plain and simple.

The film really does a great job of showing his passion for cooking sushi. There are countless slow motion shots of different stages of preparation; The sounds of the water hitting the rice that they use for the sushi and gorgeous cinematography by Gelb that puts us right in the kitchen to make us feel like we’re apart of something special. Every image is so crisp and beautiful that any time there are any shots of food, you wish you could partake in the experience.

The other story at the film’s center is the relationship that Jiro has with his two sons, Yamamoto and Takashi. Takashi (his younger son) has opened his own restaurant, which is basically a more relaxed mirror image of Jiro’s. (We’re shown in an early scene that Jiro is left-handed and therefore the design of his restaurant is meant for a left-handed chef. Takashi is right handed and so the opposite is true.) We’re told that Jiro often intimidates people, as he usually stares intently at each of his customers, studying their reactions to his food. Takashi on the other hand is more conversational and supposedly cooks sushi that is almost, if not equally as good as his father’s.

Yamamoto (the older son who’s now 51) is the heir to Jiro’s restaurant, but is still struggling to live up to the man his father is. A former employee of Jiro’s explains that in order for Yamamoto to be successful he has to make sushi that is far better than Jiro’s, not equal to. At 85, Jiro shows no signs of quitting despite a heart attack ten years earlier and the long hours he still puts in to his business, which leaves Yamamoto with some time to surpass his father.

For me, the aspects of this family and this restaurant are fascinating. The son’s quest for the father’s approval is something that I will always connect with, and the fact that Yamamoto still has not surpassed his father at his age is heartbreaking at times. In addition, the calculation and the process that goes into perfecting a product like Jiro has is so inspiring. Jiro doesn’t beat himself up for “not being perfect yet”, instead he works; each day seeing how he can improve upon the last. Some of his techniques took years to achieve, such as how long to massage an octopus before boiling it. We’re told he originally started at 20-30 minutes but now does it for closer to 40, which makes its texture much better than most are probably used to.

This is a film that shows the results of someone who is devoted to his craft and loving every minute of it. My eyes were glued to the screen for every minute that an image was projected. I kept thinking to myself that whatever I do in life, I’m nothing if I don’t relish every minute of it. I walked out of the theatre feeling inspired - something that I don’t feel often enough in movies anymore. It reminded me of why I love seeing films from all around the world, not just American films. I should mention that I’m a vegetarian and have, for my entire life, despised seafood. This is the first and only film that really made me wish I could try some sushi; that I was sitting right in front of Jiro, eating the meal he’s placed in front of me, while he stares patiently at me awaiting my response.

Jiro Dreams of Sushi is currently playing at The Maple Theatre in Bloomfield Hills and will open at The Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor this Sunday, April 22.

This Is Not A Film ★★★½

Heartbreaking And Simultaneously Uplifting

Written by Matt Giles

Edited by Erin Accomando

I’m the first to admit (and shamefully so) that my experience with Iranian cinema is next to none. Earlier this year I saw the brilliant, yet puzzling Certified Copy by Iranian filmmaker Abbas Kiarostami. And now This Is Not A Film, about Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi. Panahi is one of the most prolific filmmakers to come out of Iran and has made an impact around the world as one of the most important filmmakers of our time. In 2009 he was arrested for opposing Iran’s regime and sentenced to six years in prison along with a twenty-year ban from filmmaking. In 2010, while still under house arrest, This Is Not A Film was made showing one day in the life of Panahi’s current predicament. This film was so secretive, so risky that it had to be smuggled out of the country on a flash drive hidden inside of a cake for a last minute submission to last year’s Cannes Film Festival.

Basically what anyone like myself who has very limited knowledge of Iranian cinema should know before seeing this film is to know is that it is a very painstaking process to get a film made in Iran. While we think that the ratings system in the U.S. is a headache, there is a strict approval process from script to film in Iran, which is one of the many reasons that Panahi has the reputation he does. He’s made films that have criticized the treatment of women in Iran as well as taking what some have called an Iranian form of neorealism oftentimes using non-professional actors in the main roles of his films. Panahi is the true definition of an artist. He’s someone who longs for the opportunity to express himself and having his voice silenced as it has been is devastating to not only him but us as an audience.

The film starts off slow as we see Panahi making himself breakfast and making a phone call his lawyer to discuss whether or not she thinks his sentence will be reduced and if the ban will be lifted. She’s hopeful, but as we now know, neither the sentence nor the ban was reduced or lifted, sadly. Later, he makes a call to a friend of his who we later learn is another Iranian filmmaker, Mojtaba Mirtahmasb. Panahi has invited him over to shoot a reenactment of Panahi’s latest film that was never made about a woman who is locked up by her father to prevent her from enrolling at an art school she’s been accepted to, the idea being that he is banned from directing and writing, but there was never anything said about him acting his story out.

Panahi uses white tape to section off his living room to illustrate the constrictions of the young woman’s room. He begins to discuss the opening shots and sets the overall mood of the film. He shows us pictures and video on his iPhone of the two actresses he was debating between for the lead role as well as the location he wanted to use for the indoor setting. Midway through this reenactment however, Panahi’s mood changes quite suddenly and we witness the heartbreak and frustration on his face. He asks himself why he’s even bothering, as movies are meant to be seen and shared by the world, not read out loud in a living room.

This one scene in particular is the defining reason, at least for me, as to why this film works so well. I’ve often been so removed from understanding what motivates artists in any field. Not that I have anything against different forms of art, I’m just not someone who understands process when it comes to creating something. I don’t know what it means to connect with a character from an acting standpoint, nor do I know what it means to express myself through an abstract drawing or painting. I respect the work from an outsider’s perspective and yet, I fully sympathize with Panahi’s situation especially after witnessing this one scene on film. I see how dreadful and truly terrifying it is for an artist like Panahi to essentially be handcuffed from doing what he loves.

Panahi spends the rest of the film doing a variety of things, which includes viewing DVDs of his films and commenting on specific scenes that exemplified to him what filmmaking truly is: collaboration, inspiration and above all, passion. There’s improvisation, there’s magic, there’s all sorts of different things that can happen when making a film and Panahi relishes in every minute of it. It also includes more phone calls and finally a conversation with his apartment building’s maintenance man, where Panahi accompanies him down each floor of his round until the film abruptly ends as they walk outside.

I walked out of this film feeling helpless for this man but also strangely hopeful because a filmmaker like Panahi exists in the first place. He is a man who stands up for what he believes in, has been silenced as a result of his work, and conveys the notion that despite the odds, he isn’t done yet. It’s the passion that exists in all of us; that idea that Andy Dufresne talked about in The Shawshank Redemption; they can lock us up and throw away the key, but they can’t get the hope that we hold inside.

This Is Not A Film is one of those most honest depictions of what it means to love one’s work that I have seen in a long time. It reminds us that film will always remain a staple of any culture and that no matter whose voice is silenced, the truth will always come out.