Friday November 8 – Thursday November 14

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Featured Film:

Perfect Blue at the Northwest Film Forum

It seems there’s a Miyazaki movie playing every other week here in Seattle (there are two next week: Castle in the Sky and Princess Mononoke), and it’s been the case for going on 20 years now that he and, to a lesser extent, the other Studio Ghibli filmmakers are about all we regularly get from Japanese animated film in regular theatrical release. That’s starting to change though, with great releases like Naoko Yamada’s Liz and the Blue Bird, Makoto Shinkai’s Your Name., and Mamoru Hosada’s Wolf Children in recent years. But in the late 90s and into the 2000s, the one director who could break Miyazaki’s stranglehold on the American market was Satoshi Kon. This week the Northwest Film Forum and the Grand Illusion begin a retrospective of his work with his 1997 Hitchcockian classic Perfect Blue. Next week, they’ll be playing Millennium Actress, and the Grand Illusion will have Paprika (on 35mm!). Elsewhere around town, SAM has one of Samuel Fuller’s greatest films, the nasty noir The Naked Kiss, while the Beacon has Joe vs. the Volcano, another one of those movies (like Ishtar) that for years I was convinced that only people in my immediate family loved, but it turns out that there are much more of us out there and the number is (happily) growing all the time. Oh and the Cinerama has a whole bunch of war movies for Veteran’s Day.

Playing This Week:

AMC Alderwood:

Pain and Glory (Pedro Almodóvar) Fri-Thurs  

The Beacon Cinema:

Downtown 81 (Edo Bertoglio, 1981) Fri-Thurs 
The Battle of Algiers (Gillo Pontecorvo, 1966) Fri, Sun, Mon & Weds 
Kamikaze Hearts + The Prostitutes of Lyons Speak (Juliet Bashore, 1986/Carole Roussopoulos, 1975) Fri Only 
Night and the City (Jules Dassin, 1950) Sat & Thurs Only 
Street Fight Radio Presents Undercover Business Tyrants Sat Only 
Urusei Yatsura 2 – Beautiful Dreamer (Mamoru Oshii, 1984) Sun Only 
Joe vs. the Volcano (John Patrick Shanley, 1990) Sun-Tues Only 
Deep Red (Dario Argento, 1975) Mon Only 

Central Cinema:

10 Things I Hate About You (Gil Junger, 1999) Fri-Weds 
Escape from New York (John Carpenter, 1981) Fri-Weds 

Cinerama:

Military Film Series Fri-Mon Full Program 

SIFF Egyptian:

Pain and Glory (Pedro Almodóvar) Fri-Thurs

Century Federal Way:

The Godfather Part II (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) Sun & Weds Only  

Grand Cinema:

Clerks (Kevin Smith, 1994) Sat Only 
Raise Hell: The Life & Times of Molly Ivins (Janice Engel) Tues Only 

Grand Illusion Cinema:

Midnight Traveler (Hassan Fazili) Fri-Thurs 
Making Waves: the Art of Cinematic Sounds (Midge Costin) Fri-Thurs 

Cinemark Lincoln Square:

Better Days (Derek Tsang) Fri-Thurs Our Review 
Bala (Amar Kaushik) Fri-Thurs 
My Dear Liar (Ao Shen) Fri-Thurs  
Thipparaa Meesam (Krishna Vijay) Fri-Thurs 
Kaithi (Lokesh Kanagaraj) Fri-Thurs 
Gantumoote (Roopa Rao) Sun Only  
The Godfather Part II (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) Sun & Weds Only  

Northwest Film Forum:

Rabid (David Cronenberg, 1977) Fri-Sun 
For Sama (Waad Al-Khateab & Edward Watts) Sat & Sun 
Sundance Indigenous Shorts Sat & Sun 
Words from a Bear (Jeffrey Palmer) Sat Only 
Nailed It (Adele Pham) Sat Only 
Perfect Blue (Satoshi Kon, 1997) Sun & Weds Only 
Everybody’s Everything (Ramez Silyan & Sebastian Jones) Tues Only 
Fast Color (Julia Hart) Weds, Thurs & Next Sun Only 
Attack the Block (Joe Cornish, 2011) Thurs Only 

AMC Pacific Place:

Better Days (Derek Tsang) Fri-Thurs Our Review 

Regal Parkway Plaza:

Bala (Amar Kaushik) Fri-Thurs 
Unforgettable (Jun Lana & Percival Intalan) Fri-Thurs 
Pain and Glory (Pedro Almodóvar) Fri-Thurs  
Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs 

Seattle Art Museum:

The Naked Kiss (Samuel Fuller, 1964) Thurs Only 

SIFF Film Center:

Greener Grass (Jocelyn DeBoer & Dawn Luebbe) Fri-Sun  

Regal Thornton Place:

The Godfather Part II (Francis Ford Coppola, 1974) Sun, Tues & Weds Only  

SIFF Uptown:

Cinema Italian Style Fri-Thurs Full Program 

Varsity Theatre:

Adopt a Highway (Logan Marshall-Green) Fri-Thurs 

In Wide Release:

The Lighthouse (Robert Eggers) Our Review 
Parasite (Bong Joonho) Our Review Our Podcast 

Friday November 1 – Thursday November 7

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Featured Film:

Thieves’ Highway at the Beacon

Fall festival movies are creeping onto Seattle Screens this week, with Parasite joining The Lighthouse in wide release, plus limited runs of Synonyms (which is very good) and Jojo Rabbit (which I haven’t seen). And there’s yet another 70mm film series at the Cinerama (you can see Vertigo or Lawrence of Arabia again, or a couple of Christopher Nolan movies!). But the Beacon is kicking off a miniseries of films by director Jules Dassin with Thieves’ Highway, one of the great underseen films noirs and arguably the best movie ever made about driving a truck. A film so good, Mike included it on his Top 100 films of all-time entry last year.

Playing This Week:

The Beacon Cinema:

Mr. Klein (Joseph Losey, 1976) Fri-Thurs 
Thieves’ Highway (Jules Dassin, 1949) Sat & Thurs Only 
My Own Private Idaho (Gus Van Sant, 1991) Sat Only 
Dallos (Mamoru Oshii, 1983) Sun Only 
Salvatore Giuliano (Francesco Rosi, 1962) Sun & Weds Only 
Four Flies on Grey Velvet (Dario Argento, 1971) Mon Only 

Central Cinema:

Blade Runner: The Final Cut (Ridley Scott, 1982) Sat-Weds 

Cinerama:

70mm Film Series Part II Fri-Thurs Full Program 

Century Federal Way:

Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs  
Daaka (Baljit Singh Deo) Fri-Thurs  

Grand Cinema:

Fantastic Fungi (Louie Schwartzberg) Fri-Thurs 
One Cut of the Dead (Shinichiro Ueda) Sat Only 
Burning Cane (Phillip Youmans) Tues Only 
Samurai in the Oregon Sky (Ilana Sol) Thurs Only Director Q&A

Grand Illusion Cinema:

Holiday Hell (Jeff Ferrell, Jeremy Berg, Jeff Vigil, David Burns) Fri-Thurs 
Going Attractions: The Definitive Story of the Movie Palace (April Wright) Fri-Thurs 

Cinemark Lincoln Square:

Jojo Rabbit (Taika Waititi) Fri-Thurs 
Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs  
Bigil (Atlee Kumar) Fri-Thurs 
Kaithi (Lokesh Kanagaraj) Fri-Thurs 
Meeku Maathrame Cheptha (Shammeer Sultan) Fri-Thurs  
Shapludu (Golam Sohrab Dodul) Sun Only  

Regal Meridian:

Cyrano My Love (Alexis Michalik) Fri-Thurs 
Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs 

Northwest Film Forum:

Guy Maddin’s Seances Fri-Sun 
For Sama (Waad Al-Khateab & Edward Watts) Weds & Thurs and Next Sat & Sun 

AMC Pacific Place:

Jojo Rabbit (Taika Waititi) Fri-Thurs 
Inside Game (Randall Batinkoff) Fri-Thurs 

Regal Parkway Plaza:

Jowable (Darryl Yap) Fri-Thurs  
Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs 
War (Siddharth Anand) Fri-Thurs  

AMC Seattle:

Inside Game (Randall Batinkoff) Fri-Thurs 

Seattle Art Museum:

Lolita (Stanley Kubrick, 1962) Thurs Only 

SIFF Film Center:

Los reyes (Bettina Perut & Iván Osnovikoff) Fri-Thurs 
Planes, Trains & Automobiles (John Hughes, 1987) Weds Only 

Regal Thornton Place:

Jojo Rabbit (Taika Waititi) Fri-Thurs 

SIFF Uptown:

Synonyms (Nadav Lapid) Fri-Thurs 
Parents in Progress (Laura Chiossone) Thurs Only 

Varsity Theatre:

Adopt a Highway (Logan Marshall-Green) Fri-Thurs 

In Wide Release:

The Lighthouse (Robert Eggers) Our Review 
Parasite (Bong Joonho) Our Review Our Podcast 

VIFF 2019: Atlantics, The Laundromat, Jeanne, I Was at Home, But…, Beanpole, Pain and Glory

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Atlantics (Mati Diop)

The presence (or absence) of Netflix continues to be a major point of contention at various film festivals—particularly at Cannes, where the stakes are highest, and which the streaming giant skipped for the second year in a row. There’s some irony, then, to the fact that high-profile Cannes titles frequently get picked up by Netflix, as was the case with Grand Prix-winner Atlantics, the debut feature of French actor-director Mati Diop. Although still best known for her role in Claire Denis’s 35 Rhums (2008), Diop has directed a number of short- and medium-length films, so this feature is a culmination, as well as an expansion of her 2009 short Atlantiques. Set in the port city of Dakar in Senegal, where Ada (Mama Sané) is to marry a wealthy businessman named Omar (Babacar Sylla), the film is supernatural sea shanty cinema—though before such associations arise, we are first introduced to the hardy existence of Souleiman (Ibrahima Traoré), one of many disgruntled construction workers toiling away in the port city. He is in love with Ada, and the affection is mutual. But when the pair plan to meet up for a moonlit tryst, Ada learns that Souleiman has set sail for Europe. Not long after, she learns that the ship he was on sank.

Much of this is intriguing from the jump, and Diop manages to create both an enveloping soundscape (with an electronic score from electronic musician Fatima Al Qadiri) and a potent mood of languor and loss. The story’s supernatural bent suggests a kind of lovers-on-the-run scenario—an image of a burning bed following a wedding celebration briefly brought Badlands (1973) to mind—where the presence of one of the lovers is uncertain, though it eventually transforms into something more I Walked With a Zombie–adjacent. A triumph of Tourneur-esque texture, then, though there’s also a nebulous aspect to the structure that eventually delimits its power: Diop trusts that a viewer will take its arbitrary script details and narrative developments on faith, relying on the admittedly heady mix of moods to do the heavy lifting. But despite some occasional first film issues—the noncommittal closing, ill-considered voiceover—Atlantics nonetheless confirms Diop as a talent to watch. That the film’s most commendable elements will undoubtedly play less well when viewed at home on Netflix is, however, somewhat unfortunate.

The other notable Netflix title at VIFF this year, apart from Noah Baumbach’s commendable East coast–West coast divorce tale Marriage Story, is The Laundromat, director Steven Soderbergh’s second production this year, following High Flying Bird. It is also his worst film since at least Full Frontal (2002), perhaps ever. The film concerns the 2015 Panama Papers leak, which exposed the widespread manipulation of off-shore shell companies, a subject that’s very much in keeping with Soderbergh’s multifaceted, career-long fascination with the ground-level implications of economic policy. Unfortunately, the container he’s chosen this time around is misguided in the extreme. The stylistic comparison that’s come up most frequently is to Adam McKay circa The Big Short (2015), though even that seems rather generous given the script’s shrill condescension and a visual style that merely plays up the artificiality of the entire production, right down to the concluding call-to-arms that sees Meryl Streep removing her brownface getup in front of a studio warehouse, reciting a statement from the Panama Papers whistleblower, and finally using a hairbrush to strike a closing-shot pose as the Statue of Liberty. 

The idea, it seems, is that given the urgency of its topic, only a baldly didactic approach will do. (Along similar lines, Soderbergh’s admission that he himself owns a number of offshore shell accounts, seems meant to disarm by virtue of his candor.) That’s all well and good, in theory, but the intelligence that usually fuels even Soderbergh’s most inelegantly scripted projects seems all but missing here. Only a brief jaunt to China, which uses a foreign businessman (a very suave, tightly suited Matthias Schoenaerts) to relay the events of the Bo Xilai scandal, really looks and moves like a proper Soderbergh movie.

Jeanne, on the other hand, Bruno Dumont’s sequel to 2017’s Jeannette: The Childhood of Joan of Arc, is a Bruno Dumont movie through and through. That feature, which confined its “action” to a series of head-banging performances in sandy, windswept exteriors of the French countryside, was a repetitive, grating affair that nonetheless elicited a kind of grudging respect from me for its boundless energy and sheer audacity. Apart from a lyrical honor guard ceremony with sundry drone shots of appealingly choreographed dressage formations, however, Jeanne offers far less to appreciate, distending its director’s interest in cinematic bodies with little variation or discernible purpose. Lise Leplat Prudhomme again stars as Joan of Arc, though here she plays a role far older than her years and as such, has a guilelessness that meshes well with Dumont’s predilection for casting non-actors. But an early shot that observes Prudhomme in full costume, holding a pose for minutes on end—thus capturing every twitch of her face, every gust of wind that throws her off balance—conveys all that there is to the feature, at which point there’s little else to do but count down the remaining 120 or so minutes.

For his direction of actors and interest in certain manifestations of spirituality, Dumont has often been compared to Bresson—a comparison that likewise follows German director Angela Schanelec, not without reason. Although she has often been corralled under the Berlin School designation with fellow Germans Maren Ade, Ulrich Köhler, and Christian Petzold, she has resisted both easy classification and wider recognition—after three decades of work, her tenth feature The Dreamed Path (2016) had the backhanded distinction of being selected for New Directors/New Films. That is, until this year, when her latest feature I Was at Home, But… won the Silver Bear for Best Director at Berlin and was subsequently put into the New York Film Festival’s Main Slate. 

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I Was at Home, But… (Angela Schanelec)

Schanelec’s relative obscurity is no mystery. She assembles her films in a way that tend to make audiences rather angry, if the copious walkouts at the VIFF screening of Home, not to mention reports from various festival Q&As, are any indication. Although her films initially seem to operate along clear narrative lines, they resist the payoff and satisfaction that viewers conditioned by both Hollywood and art cinema conventions might come to expect. Films like Marseille (2004) and The Dreamed Path have ellipses that open their ostensible stories up in truly discombobulating ways; the lingering emotional vapors of any given passage or section are eventually sucked into yawning voids. In that regard, I Was at Home, But… is something of a lateral shift—it’s recognizably Schanelec’s work, but whereas previous films were frustratingly/thrillingly irresolvable and somewhat cold/clinical, this is more easily assembled into a coherent narrative and also more emotionally direct. Her découpage here is less Bressonian than in previous films, though her images have an astonishingly limpid, expressive quality that serves the story’s emotional clarity. Two scenes in particular demonstrate contrasting aspects of her method: The first is a lilting sequence set to an M. Ward cover of Bowie’s “Let’s Dance,” which moves from a cemetery at twilight to the blinding white of a hospital room; the second is a lengthy one-take scene of the lead character monologuing to (and then eventually berating) a film director, which plays both as a structural and stylistic break from the rest of the film (not to mention an amusing variation of what we usually see in Hong), and as a gesture of goodwill to the audience, offering explicit discussion on ideas that Schanelec herself has engages with.

No self-reflexive touches can be found in Kantemir Balagov’s Beanpole, an unfortunate blend of preposterous narrative contrivance, stringently opaque characterizations, and aggressively portentous staging. A multiple prize-winner in the Cannes Un Certain Regard sidebar, the film is Balagov’s sophomore feature, and while it represents an undoubted leap in visual control, the meticulously art-directed polish—color-coded costuming, burnished cinematography, and exactingly decrepit recreation of 1945 Leningrad—it also clarifies the unfortunate sensationalist aspects of his debut feature Closeness (2017). It is yet too soon to write off the 28-year-old director, who may yet deliver a film to match his ample technical facility. The breathless encomiums that essentially conflate “virtuosic direction” with “well-photographed images, held long,” however, are long past their sell-by date.

Also rather tired: the polished art-cinema genre outing, here exemplified by Austrian director Jessica Hausner’s Cannes competition entrant Little Joe. The elevator-pitch concept is Little Shop of Horrors by way of Body Snatchers—which is a pretty compelling premise. But Hausner’s handling obviates the potential ambiguities that arise. The unusual, atonal score and mannered camera movements hold interest initially, but once the canine subplot emerges, it’s clear exactly where this film is going, both narratively and thematically: the subplot with the son, plus a number of therapist scenes, are used to draw out the mother-child anxieties; the absent father becomes a synecdoche for the natural world (he lives outside the city in a kind of symbiotic take-only-what-you-need manner with his surroundings), whereas the mother works with genetically modified plants, and only orders take-out because she can’t cook. Even the interactions with all the co-workers are bizarrely conventional, bordering on outright inept. Hausner’s mannered direction in Amour Fou (2014) had a coherence and integrity about it; here the actors seem rather left to their own devices. It’s the kind of film that’s so meticulously put together that everything—formal strategy, performance style, thematic coherence—clicks into place immediately, after which it just becomes a matter of waiting for it to crumble to pieces. A shame, given that the pleasures of its sci-fi antecedents lie at least in part in their malleability.

Finally, there’s Pedro Almodóvar’s Pain and Glory, which centers on an aging, ailing director named Salvador Mallo (Antonio Banderas), who’s in an extended state of creative paralysis. In some sense, the film requires that a viewer already be somewhat invested in the Spanish director’s career, and know at least something of his extended artistic collaboration with Banderas, which dates to the 1980s, when he starred in such films as Labyrinth of Passion (1982) and the superb Law of Desire (1987). But even without that knowledge, three scenes stand out: an early, near-abstract montage of bodily illustrations and medical diagrams; a nighttime visit from an old lover, which deploys its sense of longing like a depth charge; and the erotic memory-cum-restaging of the artist’s first stirrings of carnal desire. It’s certainly Almodóvar’s prerogative to make a film about his creative paralysis instead of the inspiration that finally emerged out of it, but the interspersed material from the latter is just far more appealing than any of the present-day material, which is comprised of three not-quite-Christmas Carol-esque visitations from past figures from his life. (An episode with a bathing bricklayer suggests that Almodóvar could do well with a full-blown memory piece à la Terence Davies’s The Long Day Closes.) There’s more than a touch of complacency here, with Almodóvar trusting that personality and/or familiarity will supply the much-needed gestalt to a fairly lackadaisical film. Still, intermittent pleasure is better than no pleasure at all.

Friday October 25 – Thursday October 31

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Featured Film:

Guy Maddin at the Northwest Film Forum

The year’s buzziest art house movie opens this week at the Egyptian and the Lincoln Square, but we saw Bong Joonho’s Parasite a few weeks ago at VIFF and have already covered it in detail in both audio and written forms. Instead, let’s highlight the Northwest Film Forum’s presentation of Canadian weirdo Guy Maddin’s art installation Seances, which sounds pretty cool, alongside a mini-retrospective of his work, including his acclaimed documentary My Winnipeg and my personal favorite of his films, 1990’s Archangel. But also, don’t miss Godzilla at the Grand Illusion and Hong Kong Horror classic The Boxer’s Omen at the Beacon.

Playing This Week:

AMC Alderwood:

The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939) Fri-Thurs  

Ark Lodge:

Dolemite is My Name (Craig Brewer) Fri-Thurs 

The Beacon Cinema:

House on Haunted Hill (William Castle, 1959) Fri-Thurs 
Possession (Andrzej Żuławski, 1981) Fri-Weds 
The Lost Boys (Joel Schumacher, 1987) Fri & Sat Only 
The Boxer’s Omen (Kuei Chih-hung, 1983) Sat, Tues & Weds Only Our Review 
Old School Halloween (Various) Sun Only 
Halloween II (Rob Zombie, 2009) Mon Only 
The Beacon Halloween Special Thurs Only 

Central Cinema:

Hocus Pocus (Kenny Ortega, 1993) Fri-Weds 
A Nightmare on Elm Street (Wes Craven, 1984) Fri-Weds  

Cinerama:

Horrorama! Film Series Fri-Thurs Full Program

SIFF Egyptian:

Parasite (Bong Joonho) Fri-Thurs Our Review Our Podcast 
Collide-O-Scope Halloween 2019 Thurs Only 

Century Federal Way:

Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs  
Ardab Mutiyaran (Manav Shah) Fri-Thurs  
Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2001) Sun Only Dubbed

Grand Cinema:

Where’s My Roy Cohn? (Matt Tyrnauer) Fri-Thurs 
Fantastic Fungi (Louie Schwartzberg) Fri-Thurs 
Evil Dead II (Sam Raimi, 1987) Sat Only 
David Crosby: Remember My Name (A.J. Eaton) Tues Only 

Grand Illusion Cinema:

Godzilla (Ishiro Honda, 1954) Fri-Mon, Thurs 
Threads (Mick Jackson, 1984) Fri, Sat & Mon Only  
Fatal Exposure (Alan Metzger, 1991) Fri Only VHS 
The Wicker Man: The Final Cut (Robin Hardy, 1973) Sat Only 
The Long Weekend (Colin Eggleston, 1979) Sat & Weds Only 
Godzilla vs. Hedorah (Yoshimitsu Banno, 1971) Sun, Weds & Thurs Only 
A Bucket of Blood + Little Shops of Horrors (Roger Corman, 1959/60) Tues Only 16mm 

Cinemark Lincoln Square:

Parasite (Bong Joonho) Fri-Thurs Our Review Our Podcast 
Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs  
Bigil (Atlee Kumar) Fri-Thurs 
Kaithi (Lokesh Kanagaraj) Fri-Thurs In Tamil or Telugu, Check Listings
Made in China (Mikhil Musale) Fri-Thurs  
Saand Ki Aankh (Tushar Hiranandani) Fri-Thurs  
The Captain (Andrew Lau) Fri-Thurs Our Review 
War (Siddharth Anand) Fri-Thurs  
Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2001) Sun, Mon & Weds Only Subtitled Mon

Regal Meridian:

Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs 
Saand Ki Aankh (Tushar Hiranandani) Fri-Thurs  
Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2001) Sun, Mon & Weds Only Subtitled Mon

Northwest Film Forum:

Guy Maddin’s Seances Fri-Next Sun 
Becoming Nobody (Jamie Catto) Fri Only 
Archangel (Guy Maddin, 1990) Sat Only 
Careful (Guy Maddin, 1992) Sat Only 
My Winnipeg (Guy Maddin, 2007) Sun Only 
The 3rd Nightmare Emporium Horror Film Anthology Mon-Weds 
Chez Jolie Coiffure (Rosine Mbakam) Weds Only 
The Two Faces of a Bamileke Woman (Rosine Mbakam) Weds Only 

AMC Pacific Place:

The Captain (Andrew Lau) Fri-Thurs Our Review 

Regal Parkway Plaza:

Beetlejuice (Tim Burton, 1988) Fri-Thurs  
The Blair Witch Project (Eduardo Sánchez & Daniel Myrick, 1999) Fri-Thurs 
Housefull 4 (Farhad Samji) Fri-Thurs 
Made in China (Mikhil Musale) Fri-Thurs  
Saand Ki Aankh (Tushar Hiranandani) Fri-Thurs  
War (Siddharth Anand) Fri-Thurs  

Seattle Art Museum:

The Wrong Man (Alfred Hitchcock, 1956) Thurs Only 

SIFF Film Center:

NFFTY Film Festival Fri-Sun Only Full Program 

AMC Southcenter:

The Wizard of Oz (Victor Fleming, 1939) Fri-Thurs  

Regal Thornton Place:

 Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2001) Sun, Mon & Weds Only Subtitled Mon

SIFF Uptown:

Dolemite is My Name (Craig Brewer) Fri-Thurs 
Where’s My Roy Cohn? (Matt Tyrnauer) Fri-Thurs 
NFFTY Film Festival Fri-Sun Only Full Program 
April and the Extraordinary World (Christian Desmares & Franck Ekinci, 2015) Sat Only 

Varsity Theatre:

Paradise Hills (Alice Waddington) Fri-Thurs 
The Great Alaskan Race (Brian Presley) Fri-Thurs 
Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki, 2001) Sun & Mon Only Subtitled Mon

In Wide Release:

The Lighthouse (Robert Eggers) Our Review 

VIFF 2019: Amanda (Mikhaël Hers)

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Within a film festival circuit increasingly torn between the poles of bombastic monumentality and tasteful subtlety, Mikhaël Hers’s Amanda might present something of a odd proposition. Evincing hushed directorial observation and bearing sundry half-toned developments, the film would seem to fall squarely in the latter category. But just when a viewer might think they have it pegged down, it shifts unexpectedly towards the lines of a straightforward tearjerker. And yet Hers still demonstrates a commitment to deflecting emotional cliché, the film’s moment-to-moment movements (not to mention its overall shape) frequently recalling Mia Hansen-Løve’s Father of My Children (2009), a Parisian drama that likewise serves up a whirl of frenetic activity, before arresting that motion with an abrupt traumatic turn. It’s a testament to Hers’s film that such assessments feel incomplete.

Amanda’s central figure is David (Vincent Lacoste), a sweet, if unremarkable twenty-something who holds a number of odd jobs—though mainly, he manages an apartment complex for a Parisian property magnate. When first introduced, he’s already missed an appointment to pick up his seven-year-old niece Amanda (Isaure Multrier) from school, which he’s later berated for by his elder sister Sandrine (Ophélia Kolb), the girl’s loving, harried single mom. The two are the only family he sees regularly, his father having passed away, and his mother having left for her native London when he was a child. Indeed, apart from Lena (Stacy Martin), a young pianist newly arrived in Paris, with whom he starts a budding romance, the mother-daughter pair seem to be the only people he has any steady attachment to. But it’s not until about thirty minutes in that his feckless behavior has any sort of implications. Up to this point, the film is so languid, so bewilderingly normal that one might wonder what, precisely, it is meant to be. We soon find out.

Characteristically late for a mid-afternoon picnic with his sister and some friends, David arrives to the bloody aftermath of a terrorist attack conveyed in a quick succession of startling cuts, and then a static wide shot that slowly fades to black. A halting interaction with two survivors outside a hospital soon follows, but when we next see David, he’s pacing his sister’s apartment as Amanda slumbers in the back room. When she wakes, he will have to tell her that she no longer has a mother. As to what will happen after, he does not yet know.

In retrospect, it’s clear that Hers has laid the groundwork for this decisive pivot. We learn early on that Sandrine has bought tickets for the three to go to Wimbledon, with the ancillary goal of reconnecting with her and David’s estranged mother, establishing the film’s concerns with parental absence and filial grief. But it’s a mark of Hers’s deceptively casual direction that the involving specifics of the first half-hour don’t at all feel predictive. We might wonder, for a time, why the film is even titled Amanda, but the chaos of the present—its occasional pleasures and near-constant frustrations—pushes such questions from the mind. Only in retrospect do we think of the November 2015 Paris attacks. Only in retrospect are we able to perceive what we have been watching as a mere prologue.

As David’s newfound parental responsibilities become enfolded into a study of coping, Hers observes all manner of intriguing details: the vacation rules of the institution that he considers sending Amanda to; his disposal of Sandrine’s toothbrush, quickly undone when his niece protests; and even his abortive meeting with a journalist looking to write a story on the victims, a scene that’s more astute for being all but detached from the overall story. And though Hers’s camera isn’t quite as nimble as Hansen-Løve’s, he shares her talent for disarming elisions. (A particularly sharp cut takes us from a hesitant kiss between David and Lena at nighttime, to the bleary-eyed morning after, with the latter nowhere in sight, and Amanda now curled up next to her uncle, having evidently been plagued by nightmares that we’ve seen him deal with before.) Much more so than Hansen-Løve, though, Hers demonstrates a willingness to amplify his story’s sentimentality, which means that Amanda might leave a viewer somewhat suspicious at times. But it also manages to locate moments that are all the more potent and astonishing for being so emotionally direct. In that respect, the final scene, set at the Wimbledon game so long in coming, is both instructive and emblematic. As Amanda watches a player being beaten, she becomes distraught out of all proportion to the events on-screen; but then he rallies, and her pure delight is something to behold. A too-simple structural equation of grief and resilience, perhaps—but in the case of a child, does it not cut to the heart of the matter? It takes a certain confidence to tether the emotional crescendo of one’s film to the outcome of a tennis match—and Hers pulls it off beautifully.

VIFF 2019: Parasite (Bong Joonho, 2019)

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Bong Joonho’s 2019 film, Parasite, which took the Palme d’Or at Cannes, opens on a row of tired-looking socks, dangling in a circle from a ceiling on a hanging mobile. From inside this basement apartment, we look through the socks, through a smudged window, onto a street outside, a ground-space that is right at eye-level. The apartment floor, then, is below the street, and the dwelling is a space where the damp moulds the bread and where the toilet must be up on a raised platform, so the plumbing can run downwards. The family–father, mother, young adult son, and young adult daughter–lives so low that even the toilet lives above them. It’s the sump of the city, where drunk men come to piss and where pest control sends billowing clouds of poisonous fumes, covering people and pests alike. The family shrugs and just breathes it in. What else is there to do?

And high above this family lives another family, in a tightly secured space that seems to be at the very shining top of the city. It’s a modern, walled-in garden, shutting out pests and drunks, and maintaining glossy glass surfaces and pristine green grass and foliage. It’s a world away from the refuse and grime, which, for this rich family, does not even exist. The lights that flicker on and off sometimes that might indicate to those inside the garden that another world is signaling, asking for recognition and help, go ignored; the flickerings are received only as further sign that lights turn on and off in a kind of obeisance to their owners’ presence. Even the young son of the family, who might read the code of the lights, sees a game for his own amusement. 

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Bottom of the world poverty, top of the world wealth: the Parasite spaces. That’s the set-up.

“This is so metaphorical,” says Kim Kiwoo (Choi Woosik), the adult son, and of course, it is. As with Snowpiercer and Okja, Bong has returned, here, to his interest in the haves and have nots, to the boundaries constructed between them, and the incursions and smells that cross those boundaries, the violence inherent in those boundaries and the violence that results from their existence, and his work reminds us that the world is never as tidy as above and below, up and down, front and back.  Continue reading “VIFF 2019: Parasite (Bong Joonho, 2019)”

VIFF 2019: Young Ahmed (Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne, 2019)

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Young Ahmed, the latest feature from the Belgian writer-director brothers, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, which took the Cannes prize for Best Director, is very much a Dardenne film. It features the style and approach of all of their films: handheld, intimate camerawork; an intense focus on a limited number of characters and the daily texture of their lives; an elliptical development of narrative that builds as much through a character’s body language and routine as their dialogue; an interest in how a particular individual is often at the mercy of a larger system; a payoff that resides more in the character’s psychology or emotions than in a plot resolution. 

It’s a style that aligns both in content and in form with what we might call social realism. At their best, the Dardennes present us with characters who do not seem to be living in a story at all but with real people who have somehow fallen into one, and the camera has just happened to catch them in it.  At their best, too, their films achieve an emotional and psychological richness and complexity, a sense of the depth of human heart and mind, and human pain and joy, without the grand gestures of an obvious plot structure. 

It becomes easier to see the bones and careful construction of a Dardenne plot, perhaps, the more of their films one watches, for, of course, there is one, and each character beat always does lead to a particular kind of emotional climax, a climax that often typically strips the pretenses and armor away from the central character.  

Seeing the plot and its rather typical Dardenne payoff isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the brothers’ particular approach, so dependent on the minutiae of the daily life of a character, may feel wanting in some cases if an attempted hyper-realism of character falls flat. 

In the case of Young Ahmed, we are dropped into the life of a Belgian Muslim teen boy, after, under the influence of an imam, he has already become radicalized by the time we meet him. We then watch as, early on in the film, he carries out a plan — or attempts to carry out a plan — to kill his schoolteacher, a woman who the imam has told Ahmed is a dangerous corrupting influence, an affront to the Koran, because of her decision to teach modern Arabic to her students through pop songs. Ahmed’s clumsy attempt to stab his teacher fails, and he is sent to a sort of juvenile detention, where he lives with other boys, and, closely shadowed by a caregiver, eventually goes to a farm to work, helping the family with their daily tasks, a part of the system’s effort to reform him. He meets regularly with a psychologist, too, whose job it is to assess the level of his repentance and reform.  Continue reading “VIFF 2019: Young Ahmed (Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne, 2019)”

VIFF 2019 Index

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Here is an Index of our coverage of the 2019 Vancouver International Film Festival.

Sean Gilman:

The Wild Goose Lake (Diao Yinan)
The Lighthouse (Robert Eggers)
The Shadow Play (Lou Ye)
PreviewWhite Snake, White Lie and Hard-Core

Evan Morgan:

Minding the Gaps: An Interview with Dan Sallitt
PreviewBlood Quantum, A Hidden Life, It Must Be Heaven, Parasite, Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Synonyms, Vitalina Varela, and The Wild Goose Lake.

Sue Lonac:

And Then We Danced (Levan Akin)

Lawrence Garcia:

Amanda (Mikhaël Hers)
Atlantics, The Laundromat, Jeanne, I Was at Home, But…, Beanpole, Pain and Glory
PreviewA Hidden Life, Krabi 2562, Marriage Story, and The Twentieth Century.

Melissa Tamminga:

Young Ahmed (Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne)
Parasite (Bong Joonho)

Sean, Evan, Lawrence and Melissa:

The Frances Farmer Show #21 – VIFF 2019Amanda, Wet Season, I Was at Home, But. . ., Fourteen, The Whistlers, Parasite, Young Ahmed, and A Hidden Life.

The Frances Farmer Show #21: VIFF 2019

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Sean and Evan and Melissa and Lawrence discuss some of the films they saw at the 2019 Vancouver International Film festival. Movies discussed include: Amanda (Mikhaël Hers), Wet Season (Anthony Chen), I Was at Home, But. . . (Angela Schanelec), Fourteen (Dan Sallitt), The Whistlers (Corneliu Porumboiu), Parasite (Bong Joonho), Young Ahmed (Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne), and A Hidden Life (Terrence Malick).

You can listen to the show by downloading it directly, or by subscribing on iTunes or the podcast player of your choice.

Friday October 18 – Thursday October 24

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Featured Film:

An Autumn Afternoon at the Beacon

Going with the seasonal movie at the Beacon once again this week, because while there are German and Polish film festivals at the Northwest Film Forum and SIFF, and Abel Ferrara’s Driller Killer at the Grand Illusion, and a special Dolemite double feature Saturday night at the Ark Lodge and even a personal favorite in Cat People at the Beacon, which also has a double feature tribute to the late Robert Forster with Jackie Brown and Vigilante, Yasujiro Ozu’s final film is quite simply one of my favorite movies of all time. It’s also the only Ozu movie I’ve seen in a theatre (at SAM a few years ago) and it’s even better on a big screen. Don’t miss it.

Playing This Week:

AMC Alderwood:

War (Siddharth Anand) Fri-Thurs  

Ark Lodge:

Dolemite is My Name (Craig Brewer) Fri-Thurs Double feature with Dolemite (1975) Sat Night

The Beacon Cinema:

Cat People (Jacques Tourneur, 1942) Fri, Sat, Mon-Thurs 
In the Mouth of Madness (John Carpenter, 1994) Fri, Sat, Mon, Weds & Thurs 
Dead and Buried + Messiah of Evil (Gary Sherman, 1981/Willard Huyck & Gloria Katz, 1973) Fri Only 
Viy – Spirit of Evil (Konstantin Yershov & Georgi Kropachyov, 1967) Sat, Tues & Weds Only 
Jackie Brown + Vigilante (Quentin Tarantino, 1997/William Lustig, 1982) Sat Only 
The Curse of Kazuo Umezu + Mermaid Forest (Naoko Omi, 1990/Takaya Mizutani, 1991) Sun Only 
An Autumn Afternoon (Yasujiro Ozu, 1962) Sun, Tues & Thurs Only Our Podcast
Ghostwatch (Lesley Manning, 1992) Sun Only 
Halloween H2O (Steve Miner, 1998) Sun Only 

Central Cinema:

House (Nobuhiko Obayashi, 1977) Fri-Tues 
Fright Night (Tom Holland, 1985) Fri-Sun, Tues & Weds  
Fast Friday (David Rowe, 2009) Sun Only  
Blood Diner (Jackie Kong, 1987) Mon Only  Director in Attendance

SIFF Egyptian:

The Collective- a Ski Film by Faction (Etienne Mérel) Fri Only 
Skatetown USA (William A. Levey, 1979) Sat Only 
Parasite (Bong Joonho) Sat Only Sneak Preview 
The Night of a Thousand Scares Weds Only 
Seattle Queer Film Festival 2019 Sun Only Full Program 

Century Federal Way:

Ardab Mutiyaran (Manav Shah) Fri-Thurs  

Grand Cinema:

Fiddler: A Miracle of Miracles (Max Lewkowicz) Fri-Thurs 
Official Secrets (Gavin Hood) Fri-Thurs 
Corpse Bride (Tim Burton & Mike Johnson, 2005) Sat Only 
Monty Python & the Holy Grail (Terry Gilliam & Terry Jones, 1975) Sat Only 
Mike Wallace is Here (Avi Belkin) Tues Only 

Grand Illusion Cinema:

The Golden Glove (Fatih Akin) Fri-Thurs  
Kill List (Ben Wheatley, 2009) Fri, Sat, Mon & Tues 35mm
The Wicker Man: The Final Cut (Robin Hardy, 1973) Sat, Thurs & Next Sat Only 
The Driller Killer (Abel Ferrara, 1979) Sun Only 
Scarecrow Video Weirdo Horror Triple Feature Sun Only 

Cinemark Lincoln Square:

The Captain (Andrew Lau) Fri-Thurs Our Review 
Lucy in the Sky (Noah Hawley) Fri-Thurs 
My People, My Country (Various) Fri-Thurs 
Sye Raa Narasimha Reddy (Surender Reddy) Fri-Thurs 
The Sky is Pink (Shonali Bose) Fri-Thurs  
War (Siddharth Anand) Fri-Thurs  
Adhyarathri  (Jibu Jacob) Sat & Sun Only 

Regal Meridian:

The Sky is Pink (Shonali Bose) Fri-Thurs  
Lucy in the Sky (Noah Hawley) Fri-Thurs 

Northwest Film Forum:

Seattle Queer Film Festival 2019 Fri-Sun Full Program 
Desolation Center (Stuart Swezey) Sun Only 
Chez Jolie Coiffure (Rosine Mbakam) Sun, Weds & Next Weds Only 
The Two Faces of a Bamileke Woman (Rosine Mbakam) Sun, Weds & Next Weds Only 
Oray (Mehmet Akif Büyükatalay) Mon Only 
Of Fathers and Sons (Talal Derki) Mon Only Editor in Attendance
Styx (Wolfgang Fischer) Tues Only 
Balloon (Michael Bully Herbig) Tues Only 
Becoming Nobody (Jamie Catto) Thurs & Next Fri Only 
Ginger Snaps (John Fawcett, 2000) Thurs Only 

AMC Pacific Place:

The Captain (Andrew Lau) Fri-Thurs Our Review
Immortal Hero (Hiroshi Akabane) Fri-Thurs 
My People, My Country (Various) Fri-Thurs 

Regal Parkway Plaza:

The Sky is Pink (Shonali Bose) Fri-Thurs  
Lucy in the Sky (Noah Hawley) Fri-Thurs 
War (Siddharth Anand) Fri-Thurs  

AMC Seattle:

Lucy in the Sky (Noah Hawley) Fri-Thurs 

Seattle Art Museum:

Niagara (Henry Hathaway, 1953) Thurs Only 

SIFF Film Center:

“…and the winners are…” New German Cinema Series Fri-Sun 

SIFF Uptown:

Dolemite is My Name (Craig Brewer) Fri-Thurs 
Where’s My Roy Cohn? (Matt Tyrnauer) Fri-Thurs 
Seattle Polish Film Festival Sat & Sun Only Full Program 
ZZ Top: That Little Ol’ Band From Texas (Sam Dunn) Mon Only 
Mountaintop (Neil Young) Tues Only 
Lynch: A History (David Shields) Thurs Only Our Review Director Q&A

Varsity Theatre:

First Love (Takashi Miike) Fri-Thurs Our Review 
Trick (Patrick Lussier) Fri-Thurs