Film Freak Central

Story Time: FFC Interviews Bomani J. Story

Walter Chaw interviews Bomani J. Story, writer-director of
THE ANGRY BLACK GIRL AND HER MONSTER

I love writer-director Bomani J. Story's feature debut, The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster. I love it for its verve, its intimidating intelligence, its righteousness. It's one of the few Frankenstein adaptations that actually takes Mary Shelley's presence in the novel into consideration, serving as a very fine horror film on the one side and a sharp social commentary on the other. Story is the rare young filmmaker unafraid of subtext, and he has a genuine humility about him that, to me, is a predictor of future life success. He's said that going back to Frankenstein the book was, essentially, a bolt of lightning for him, and indeed, I think it takes a minority read of it to fully grasp its revolutionary quality. I was similarly galvanized my first time reading it, too. It probably, by itself, led to my interest in studying British Romanticism once upon a time.

The Curator: FFC Interviews Brian Hu

Walter Chaw interviews Film Programmer Brian Hu

Brian Hu picked me up from San Diego International in 2019. I was a guest of the San Diego Asian Film Festival, for which Brian is the artistic director, and he took me directly to a little Mexican joint that served the best menudo I've ever had, cafeteria-style, in a bustling, air-conditioner-free space. For dinner, he and his staff introduced me to a dumpling place on San Diego's 5^th Street, sandwiched between a wealth of used-record shops and vintage stores. They served things there that made me cry, for the first time since my father's death, for the memories I was surprised with of the food he used to make us when I was a kid. Brian is as good a host, in other words, as he is a programmer, educator, and curator of cultural memory. The first room he showed me during my quick tour of the Pacific Arts Movement campus was a library lined, floor-to-ceiling, with shelves holding VHS tapes and DVDs of all the submissions the SDAFF had shown in its then-nearly 20-year history. I think of this image whenever I think of Brian.

To Speak!: FFC Interviews Luca Guadagnino

Walter Chaw interviews Luca Guadagnino, director of
BONES AND ALL

Sicilian-born Luca Guadagnino is a chronicler of the sensual, of the sublime and occasionally ridiculous. He's a sensationalist in the best sense of the term, a cartographer of the more embarrassing, least examined borders of human experience. His closest analogue, to my mind, is Nagisa Ōshima, another artist unafraid of digging into our most intimate, most carnal aspects and somehow mining high-minded art from all that primate muck. At his best, I would slot Guadagnino's pictures in with the likes of Hiroshi Teshigahara's Woman in the Dunes or Derek Jarman's The Last of England: erotic rather than titillating; taboo rather than polite. His movies are about the freedom of becoming lost.

The Thinker: FFC Interviews Rian Johnson

AI-generated likeness

Walter Chaw interviews Rian Johnson, writer-director of
GLASS ONION: A KNIVES OUT MYSTERY

I met Rian Johnson when his directorial debut, Brick, was making the festival rounds. In the middle of interviewing him, I received a panicked call from my wife that my infant daughter was sick and had been vomiting. Rian overheard some of it, saw my reaction to the rest of it, and, as I hung up, handed me a piece of paper with his cell phone and email on it and told me we could continue talking if I wanted after I was sure my kid was okay. We've been friends ever since. I can confidently say that through the rollercoaster of a Hollywood career, he's remained the same person: kind, funny, available for a chat, able to navigate the absolute highs and troll-infested lows of fandom with equanimity and a notable lack of ego. Speak to his collaborators and you'll hear the same stories about what seems like a unicorn in show business--but I'd add the caveat that Rian, in addition to being a truly nice guy, is also razor sharp. He's the kind of person who likes to play board games and will beat you at them; who will make a bet about his beloved Dodgers with some idiot who has to root for, say, the Rockies, and never let you forget it. His unique genius is on display in films as varied as Knives Out, a morality play about righting a complex social injustice as much as it as a whodunit, and The Brothers Bloom, a puzzle-box all of sleights-of-hand and the love of the grift. Wanting to talk with Rian about the sublimated outrage, the righteousness, of his new film Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery, I began by asking him to identify the pleasure that films like Death on the Nile and Evil Under the Sun held for him as a kid:

The 'Old Man' and McKee: FFC Interviews Lucky McKee

Walter Chaw interviews Lucky McKee,
director of OLD MAN

I met Lucky McKee and the brilliant artist Vanessa McKee, his wife, when I had them out to screen McKee's feature debut May via his personal 35mm answer print about a decade ago. Like many filmmakers showing their work retrospectively, they didn't want to watch their movie again, so I sat with them in the green room between the introduction and Q&A, and we started talking about film in a broad-ranging chat that went deeper and farther than these things ever do--a product of their warmth, on the one hand, the depth of their knowledge and passion on the other. As they were leaving for their hotel, Lucky shook my hand warmly and thanked me for "talking good movie." A great night--and I thought that was that, but Lucky texted me a couple of weeks later to ask after me and follow up on a few family things we'd touched on. Considerate, smart, and, above all else, authentic.

Light Years: FFC Interviews Bernard Rose

Walter Chaw interviews Bernard Rose,
director of TRAVELING LIGHT

I met Bernard Rose a few years ago when I flew him and his 35mm answer print of Paperhouse out to Colorado for a special screening of the film. Not long after, he returned with Tony Todd for Candyman and a rousing post-film discussion that teased a reunion for the director and actor, which has come to fruition not once but twice since then. I'm still keeping my fingers crossed for the Candyman sequel that sees Helen as the bogey; perhaps the idea of a white lady academic gentrifier is already scary enough. During that first visit, Rose and I spent a couple of hours in a bar discussing Tolstoy, which, besides being bracing under any circumstance, is an exceedingly rare event outside of academia. It's been one of the honours of my life to encounter brilliant creators and to benefit so richly from the association. When I learned that Rose and Todd had picked up a camera, taking to the streets of Los Angeles in the dark days of the pandemic to shoot a new, experimental project inspired by Luis Buñuel called Traveling Light, I was grateful for an excuse to interview Rose. Of course the film is iconoclastic, challenging in the best way and a time capsule of a particular moment that already seems a hundred years ago and fading. We began our conversation by talking about the massive--and largely unexamined--psychic toll of the last two years on the human race.

Masks: FFC Interviews Scott Derrickson

Walter Chaw interviews Scott Derrickson,
director of THE BLACK PHONE

I've known Scott Derrickson a long time--indeed, an eternity in Internet years. He grew up in Westminster, Colorado, just down the road from where I live now, in a "cone of death" where the plutonium from the now-closed Rocky Flats nuclear plant--through a series of fires, meltdowns, and misadventures--was lost into the air in particles a magnitude smaller than pollen. The site is among the most contaminated places on Earth still, though judged to be clean enough to house a "wildlife preserve" and way too much new housing, the residents of which are not informed of the level of radioactivity they're sitting on. To this day, dogs aren't allowed at Standley Lake because dogs...dig. We grew up making jokes about the glow coming from the plant at night. Whenever I drove past it as a kid, I would hold my breath with the thought that maybe this would insulate me from irradiation and cancer. Maybe it did.

Mad God: An Interview with Phil Tippett

Walter Chaw interviews VFX legend Phil Tippett, writer-director of MAD GOD

by Walter Chaw The heir apparent to stop-motion pioneers Willis O'Brien and Ray Harryhausen, Phil Tippett is one of the most significant artists of the twentieth century. It's his hands animating the AT-ATs in The Empire Strikes Back. He designed creatures for the Cantina and the moving pieces on the Dejarik table. He animated the Rancor, and the bugs in Starship Troopers, and RoboCop's ED-209. He was the "dinosaur supervisor" on Jurassic Park, overseeing the industry-changing transition from stop-motion, Tippett's metier, to CGI. It could've been the end of his career, but his working methods adapted to the digital realm. The product of his hands is, for my generation, the clay of our imagination. I grew up playing with toys based on his designs and watching movies full of his animating spirit, everything from Piranha to The Golden Child. With his place in the pantheon long assured, he moved to the director's chair for the thirty-years-in-the-making Mad God, and the end result is something that looks and feels very much like madness. It's glorious. I spoke with Mr. Tippett over Zoom and was betrayed once or twice by overwhelming emotion; I thought I was done feeling like this about things, but speaking with the father of Vermithrax Pejorative was humbling and exhilarating. If you get the chance to tell your heroes how much their art has meant to you, do that.

All at Once: An Interview with the Makers of "Everything Everywhere All at Once"

Walter Chaw interviews "The Daniels," Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, writer-directors of Everything Everywhere All at Once

The function--the true function--of art at any time, but particularly in dark times collective and personal, is, I think, to provide evidence of grace. However low, however diminished, however stricken we may find ourselves, here are these artifacts of others who went before us into the breach to retrieve...I don't know: signposts? Breadcrumbs in the wild, overgrown wood; strings in the labyrinth; a way out or a way in. I don't know. Everything Everywhere All At Once returned fragments of myself to me that I had not been aware were missing. It is one of the most meaningful films of my life, appearing at a stage of my experience and movie-obsessed existence where I thought it was no longer possible to feel that way about a movie again. It reminded me of why I, more than love, why I need art to fill the spaces in me.

Adams Family Values: An Interview with the Creators of "Hellbender"

Walter Chaw interviews Hellbender creators
John Adams, Lulu Adams, Zelda Adams, and Toby Poser

Of all the movies I saw last year, two viscerally exhilarated me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end for the power of their craft and the empowerment of their messages. The first was Steven Spielberg's West Side Story, the finest spectacle film I've seen in I can't remember how long--a smart updating of a well-travelled text by one of the few unquestioned masters of the medium. The other was Hellbender, the seventh film by a family of wanderers--and artists--who decided at some point to buy a rickety old RV, drive it across the U.S., and make a very particular brand of home movie to document their nights and days. Hellbender is so alive with the rapture of living that it almost pulsates; watching it is a tactile experience, and its celebration of women and coming into power feels effortless. It's not unlike the idea of "blood harmony"--when it happens, it's supernatural. Hellbender is the truth. So when I was offered the chance to interview filmmakers Toby Poser and John Adams and their daughters Lulu and Zelda Adams over Zoom one snowy afternoon, I was beside myself. It's fun to catch phenoms right before they take off into the stratosphere.

Dream House: An Interview with Albert Birney & Kentucker Audley

Walter Chaw interviews Strawberry Mansion creators
Albert Birney and Kentucker Audley

Strawberry Mansion is fascinating stuff: a film that runs the danger of being distracting for its quirkiness but is, in point of fact, a mature piece about investing in love with the full knowledge of how love is heartbreak. It isn't, in other words, odd for the sake of odd, but rather odd for the specific purpose of communicating a point of view, a creative ethos. It's...is the word "artisanal?" If it's not, it's like that. There's a lot of same going around (same as it always was, as it happens), but here's a new thing, and if you don't support it, then more new things don't happen. There's hope with a film like this, because it points to someone brave enough to make it and then a few more someones willing to find a way to get it into theatres and onto streaming services.

Becoming: An Interview with Mark Pellington

Mark Pellington's body of work deserves serious reconsideration. It describes the arc of a serious artist, someone tapped into a collective threnody, a manifest weltschmerz expressed increasingly through techniques that move him away from traditional narratives into exclusive realms of movement and music. Schooled in rhetoric, Pellington made his mark as one of the early pioneers of MTV and music video, helming clips for artists as varied as U2 and Anthrax. His video for Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" is seen as a landmark for the form in terms of its expressiveness and willingness to venture into dark places (child abuse, bullying, suicide). Pellington was inspired at that moment by the recent loss of his father to dementia--an experience he hopes to turn into a movie someday--and it's that throughline of grief, as it moves through stages of rage, denial, and addiction, that informs the work of his lifetime. Each unimaginable loss feeds Pellington's next project. I'm in awe of his transparency and courage.

Far from the Madding Cloud: An Interview with Iuli Gerbase

I first caught Iuli Gerbase's fantastic debut The Pink Cloud as part of last year's virtual Sundance and came away from it feeling like I'd seen perhaps the definitive film of the pandemic. But it wasn't a pandemic movie, per se. It was written in 2017 and shot in 2019, meaning its story of two people negotiating isolation is engaged in unpacking a different kind of virulence. The script was completed post-Trump but pre-Bolsonaro, so this Brazilian film isn't even exactly a political metaphor, although it could certainly be read that way. While it's good, publicity-wise, for The Pink Cloud to seem a work of prescience, it's bad in that the picture's prescience detracts from the thorniness of its broader sociological themes. Given time, its embedded subtext concerning a patriarchal system reinforcing traditional gender roles should emerge as the novelty of it as the world's grimmest Magic 8-ball recedes.

The Agony and the Ecstasy: An Interview with Lauren Hadaway

World-weary and wise and sharp as the crack of a pistol, Lauren Hadaway, after years as a top-shelf ADR artist, set a goal for herself to become a director. During the downtime between looping sessions on Justice League in 2017, she started writing the script for what would become The Novice, a semi-autobiographical film about a driven young woman joining her college crew team and finding in it an Everest she must scale just because it's there. Just because, nay, especially because, it's hard. The resulting film is as sharp and as driven as its creator, every frame composed not just beautifully but to tell a visual story of the protagonist's interiors. It's clear almost immediately that, more than a sports story, The Novice is about finding purpose through ritualized pain--and maybe a little bit or more about Hadaway overcoming self-doubt and enduring an unprecedented global event to see this project through to completion.

I began our interview by asking her about the process of coming through a difficult time.

"Heaven" is for Real: An Interview with Aharon Keshales

I met Aharon Keshales during the junket for Big Bad Wolves and found in him something like a kindred spirit. A former teacher and film critic, he spoke fondly of his love for 1970s cinema and provided cogent defenses of modern blockbusters. Both his co-directing debut, Rabies (the first Israeli horror film), and its follow-up, Big Bad Wolves, demonstrate a strong distaste for hewing to conventional narratives and resolutions. His first American film, South of Heaven, finds Jason Sudeikis at the moment of his superstardom, bolstered by a supporting cast that includes Evangeline Lilly, Mike Colter, Shea Whigham, and Jeremy Bobb, each delivering career-highlight performances in the service of a script that feels personal and, above all, wise. Keshales spent eight years from his last film to get to this point and has some scars as proof of the hazards endured along the way. Like the weather-beaten films that inform his taste, South of Heaven begins as something like a love story and ends, as all great love stories must, in terrible tragedy. (Keshales is absolutely unafraid of the "down" ending.) Its obvious touchstones are Sam Peckinpah's The Getaway and Beat Takeshi's Hana-bi; to say it's exactly my jam is an understatement. I love Aharon as a person, so take this with whatever grain of salt you feel it merits, but South of Heaven is fantastic.

Crampton Comes Alive!: FFC Interviews Barbara Crampton

I don't know what I was expecting from Travis Stevens's Jakob's Wife, but it wasn't an at-times-heartbreaking study of a woman in late-middle-age, coming to terms with her mortality and given a second chance at the rest of her life in the unlikeliest of places. I like everyone involved with this project, and there's no question that knowing Barbara Crampton (who plays the eponymous preacher's wife, Ann) and her co-star Larry Fessenden (Jakob) personally has flavoured how I see this film. Sufficed to say that Jakob's Wife is clearly an emotional autobiography for Crampton--an intensely personal picture that's not coincidentally home to her best performance. She kills me in this. I don't know if she knows how good she is; I don't know that she'd ever really been given a chance to show it before this.

Zoom Generation: FFC Interviews Rob Savage & Jemma Moore

Shudder's Host, directed and co-written by Rob Savage, is this peculiar moment's The Blair Witch Project, a landmark film that provides insight into not just these dark times via the technologies that have evolved from our collective woe, but also how we ourselves have evolved, changed in unexpected ways by the products of our hands. Never so much as to lose touch with what scares us, though. Even the genesis of the project--Host was born of a prank a bored Savage devised to scare his friends on a Zoom chat one evening (a prank posted later on social media, where it gained another half-life)--has its roots in how things that are old-hat (the noise in the attic, the jump scare, the Rear Window effect of being a voyeur to the love and death of loved ones without the power to affect them) don't go away as the tools of our existence change. They adapt. What we've always feared, we fear still. And here we are now with this stuff we've Frankensteined into existence (social media, virtual hosting, Bluetooth, the cloud) without a complete understanding of the doors it'll unlock in our relationship with the universe. We're playing with fire, and Host is a warning no less eloquent for being too late.

Body Politics: FFC Interviews Dusty Mancinelli & Madeleine Sims-Fewer

Even among the generally positive responses to Madeleine Sims-Fewer and Dusty Mancinelli's superlative Violation, one finds evidence of the predictable fallout that occurs whenever a woman in horror, particularly in the rape-revenge category of horror, fails to adhere to expectations of victimhood. Surely a woman who reacts to rape with violence is psycho, yes? Violation has as its closest analogues the Greek tragedies involving a woman cruelly wronged who righteously wrongs in return; the final image of the film is as clear a metaphor as I can imagine for how we all, men and women alike, take on the sins of the father in our various acts of consumption, both gustatorial and sexual. I was excited to speak with co-writers/co-directors Ms. Sims-Fewer (who also stars) and Mr. Mancinelli about their film and its positive--if sometimes confused--reception. So often, exhaustingly often, when one seeks to change perception, one instead manages to reveal how unchangeable perceptions can be. We should be beyond this conversation in 2021. In a lot of ways, Violation reveals that we've yet to properly broach the topic. The pair, sitting on a pale blue couch with a Frida Kahlo throw pillow between them--an appropriate totem of gender ambiguity and, indeed, rage, I thought--were engaged and smart about what their film was about. Violation is intentional in a way that very few movies can get away with--and it gets away with it because it's, y'know, brilliant. I started by asking them the perhaps obvious question of why men hate women who reveal themselves as fully human.

Open Hart: FFC Interviews Julia Hart

My grad advisor in British Romanticism, Brad Mudge, had this thing where he'd ask, after reading a poem, where the poem "breathes." I always loved that question; I love it still. It speaks to me of understanding that art will, when it's done well, cease to become something extant and begin to become something internal. The Romanticists--Shelley, I think it was--talk about the words of poets as seeds that engender new ideas in the heart of the reader. The moment I'm Your Woman "breathes" for me is in a diner sequence midway through where our hero, Jean (Rachel Brosnahan), tells her temporary protector, Cal (Arinze Kene), how after a series of miscarriages, she "burned" all the desire for a child out of herself to protect herself from more heartbreak. Already a good film, I'm Your Woman becomes a great one here in this open, vulnerable conversation about something that happens to as many as 20% of known pregnancies. It's so prevalent an event that common wisdom dictates you don't share your pregnancy news until well into a pregnancy in anticipation of it. My wife and I suffered three miscarriages (one more traumatic than the others, all of them a death of hope) before we successfully carried our first child to term.

Spokesmen: FFC Interviews Kyle Marvin & Michael Angelo Covino

Towards the end of Michael Angelo Covino and Kyle Marvin's The Climb, anti-hero Mike goes to see a movie by himself at an arthouse theatre doing a repertory screening of Pierre Étaix's Le Grand Amour. The scene quoted in brief is part of the film's framing device in which the hero, played by Étaix himself, is about to be married, an event which causes him to ruminate on past loves and the series of events leading up to this moment. In speaking with Mr. Covino and Mr. Marvin, I misremembered a Jerry Lewis quote about Étaix, thinking he'd said he had met two geniuses in his life: himself and Étaix. In truth, what he'd said was he understood what genius was twice, the first time when he looked up the word in the dictionary, the second when he met Étaix. The truth paints Lewis in a better light, but it's not as funny. Lewis went on to cast Étaix in his self-suppressed Holocaust melodrama The Day the Clown Cried.

Into the Wildland: FFC Interviews Jeanette Nordahl

Jeanette Nordahl's Wildland (a.k.a. Kød & blod) doesn't feel like somebody's directorial debut at all. Where so many first features are packed to the gills with every idea the director's ever had for fear they'll never get another opportunity to make a movie, this one is indicated by an extraordinary reserve, a sense that for as much as made it into the film, there was more left on the table. Its connective tissue is diaphanous and reliant on the experience the viewer brings to it. Some veteran filmmakers could stand to learn from this--that an active viewership is a state to which one should aspire in art, not actively avoid. Wildland is a mature piece done by a filmmaker with a gratifying faith in both herself and her audience.

A Keeper of Flocks: FFC Interviews Abel Ferrara

Lemme break it down:

I've grown up with Abel Ferrara's films and they've grown up with me. His Driller Killer and Ms. 45 were on my exact wavelength when I first sought them out during illicit trips to the video store. I didn't see it until much later, but his directorial debut, the porn flick 9 Lives of a Wet Pussy, would've been my vibe back then, too. Watching it now, it's a prep course for his later work, having the same grindhouse appeal and, as it happens, the same ineffable sense of intimacy that still informs his incomparable sex scenes. Movies for adults in the United States used to be nasty like this sometimes, and no one is nastier than Mr. Ferrara when he sets his mind to it.

Strangers in Strange Lands: FFC Interviews Andrew Ahn

One goal for minority filmmakers is to no longer be considered minority filmmakers. Failing that, it would be keen to be asked about craft rather than minority identity. As an Asian-American born in the United States of immigrant parents, I'm still trying to sort all that out for myself. There's an Ani DiFranco lyric that's stuck with me from those halcyon grad-school days where she was a constant point of reference for me (and now you know just enough about me). It goes, "Every time I move, I make a woman's movement." Yeah, preach it. Who the fuck knows what we represent to the ruling culture? I'm just over here making shit.

Fessenden II: FFC Interviews Larry Fessenden

Larry Fessenden is smart, and he's modest about that--embarrassed, even. He's generous to a fault with his time. He likes a good beer, and he made one of my very favourite films, the melancholic, ageless Wendigo. At his best, he's an artist of the sublime. At his not-best, he loses the fire in pursuit of the kindling. He respects history and his place in it--and sometimes he takes too many pains outlining the appendix when The Wasteland is waiting. His new film--his second shot at the Frankenstein story after his 1991 feature debut, No Telling--is Depraved. I'm mixed on it. The parts I liked, I loved. The parts I didn't, I recognized as the product of an artist who has perhaps spent too much of his time nurturing the work of others and not enough dedicated to establishing the sea legs for his own endeavours. Yet although there's a little rust on it, a new Fessenden joint is always cause for celebration, and Depraved is no exception.

FrightFest '18: Short Film Showcases 1-3 + Miscellany|7 Questions with Filmmaker Chris McInroy

This is a nearly complete overview of FrightFest '18's short-films lineup, though technical issues unfortunately prevented us from screening Catcalls, Puppet Master, and Right Place Wrong Tim.-Ed.

by Walter Chaw

SHORT FILM SHOWCASE 1

We Summoned a Demon ***/**** (d. Chris McInroy)
Funny how the coolest '80s throwback film that isn't It happens to be this short by Chris McInroy, which channels the light ethos of that era, with VHS nasties shock-effects scattered across its brisk, five-minute runtime. Idiots Kirk (Kirk Johnson) and Carlos (Carlos Larotta) attempt a little witchcraft by sacrificing a rooster and playing a record backwards on a plastic portable turntable. They're trying to make Kirk cool so he can ask out "Brenda" for tacos, but it doesn't work. Instead, they summon a demon (John Orr) from a neon-smoked Hell portal they can't control. Or can they? With its crackerjack timing, its tight script, and the effortless control and camaraderie of its leads, We Summoned a Demon works wonders in a short span. DP E.J. Enriquez's lighting schemes make the whole thing look like Michael Mann's The Keep, and, sometimes rare for shorts, the movie knows its length and absolutely murders its landing. Listen for composer Bird Peterson's smooth sax riff when Kirk finds his inner cool. Comedy is hard, guys; We Summoned A Demon is butter. (Scroll down to the end of these capsule reviews for an interview with Chris McInroy.)

FrightFest '18: "It's Alive!" - FFC Interviews 'Frankenstein's Creature' Filmmakers Sam Ashurst & James Swanton

by Walter Chaw Sam Ashurst's film of James Swanton's play "Frankenstein's Creature" is the best film of its kind since Spalding Gray and Jonathan Demme's Swimming to Cambodia. It solves the problem of shooting a static, one-set, one-man show with graceful, inventive technique. It's smart about what it does and an act of extraordinary brinkmanship that happens to pay off in spades. Both based in the UK, Messrs. Ashurst and Swanton were kind enough to chat with us from amidst the whirl and fury of London's FrightFest, where Frankenstein's Creature had its debut this past August. We started by talking about Mary Shelley's novel on the 200^th anniversary of its publication:

FrightFest '18: "'Night' Moves" - FFC Interviews 'The Night Sitter' Filmmakers Abiel Bruhn & John Rocco

by Walter Chaw The Night Sitter is awesome indeed. Partially crowdfunded via Kickstarter, it represents the feature debut of writing-directing duo Abiel Bruhn and John Rocco and their filmmaking collective Roller Disco Massacre. Just a couple of guys who love '80s horror and know how to use it in a sentence, Bruhn and Rocco were kind enough in the heat of this year's FrightFest to answer a few pressing questions. We started off talking about practical details of shooting The Night Sitter:

FrightFest '18: "All the Water is Holy" - FFC Interviews 'The Devil's Doorway' Director Aislinn Clarke

by Walter Chaw There are some things that horror does better than any other genre. At its best, there's no equal to its ability to surf the zeitgeist, to reflect what a culture fears and offer proximate and ultimate exorcisms. Aislinn Clarke's The Devil's Doorway is an intensely personal piece that works as metaphor in a few broad sociological conversations, covering the continued atrocity of the Catholic Church's systemic protection of predators among its ranks in addition to the broader tradition of male control over and exploitation of a woman's sexuality. Set in 1960, it even riffs, extra-textually, on that year's revolution in cinema, which saw the release of uncomfortable, status-disturbing pictures like Psycho, Eyes Without a Face, Peeping Tom, Jingoku, Caltiki: The Immortal Monster, and Black Sunday. Jung had this idea that if you repress something hard enough and for long enough, it becomes monstrous eventually and explodes into the consciousness. The 1950s were a pressure cooker in many ways, and 1960 was the release. The Devil's Doorway is a release, too, in that it confronts directly and indirectly Ireland's dark Magdalene Laundry/Asylum legacy whilst seeking, in the person of a world-weary (doubting) Father Thomas, to make some sort of peace at last with our complicity in the machineries of oppression. Whatever the priest's non-Pyrrhic spoils, they're hard-won and long-in-coming.

A Waning Desire to Blow S--t Up: FFC Interviews Pete Travis

I was five minutes late because I'm a chronic screw-up but Pete Travis couldn't have been more patient or forgiving. I'm doubly impressed by his zen calm when he tells me he starts shooting another feature in four days. I assume out loud that doing press at a film festival is the last thing he needs, but he says he's grateful for the respite from a constantly-ringing phone. Later Travis, who gives off a major Ben Mendelsohn vibe in person, will compare big-budget filmmaking to lying on the beach; if we'd ordered drinks, I would've had what he's having.

Travis came to this year's TIFF with his follow-up to the sensational Dredd, the London-set City of Tiny Lights, in tow. Starring the charming, ubiquitous Riz Ahmed, it's about a detective (Brits, including Travis, favour the term "gumshoe") whose search for a missing prostitute brings him in touch with his own tragic past. It's a conventional hard-boiled whodunit--the genre has survived by being incorruptibly formulaic, allowing it to comment on modern times by throwing into relief our changing mores and values--with one glaring exception: only one of the main characters is white. It's fascinating how deceptively fresh this makes it feel. My major complaint after the movie was over was that it retreats from those Chinatown places that would give it resonance beyond its enlightened casting (screenwriter Patrick Neale, adapting his own novel, scaled back on his book's doom and gloom considerably), but upon spending some time with Travis, I came to see the optimism of City of Tiny Lights as deeply personal to a serene and hopeful man.

We spoke on September 15, 2016 at the Azure Restaurant & Bar in the InterContinental Toronto Centre.

Needing Bigger Boats: FFC Interviews Larry Fessenden

illustration by Bill Chambers

It was within the first six months or so of trying this thing out professionally that I reviewed Larry Fessenden's third film (and masterpiece), Wendigo. I was moved, deeply, by its observation of childhood and innocence lost. I was taken by the care of its presentation. It was thematically tight. And technically? On point, including a fantastic stop-motion, practical conception of the titular bogie. It's a lovely bit of myth-making that understands why we make myths in the first place. Years later, when Fessenden directed his "aquatic" film Beneath for basic cable, certain wags would brand it his Jaws--knowing, famously, that Spielberg's maritime yarn was among Fessenden's favourites. The boat they missed is that his Jaws is actually Wendigo: childhood's end; death of the father; the parents' inability to protect their young; and, yes, the creation of myths to contextualize what it could and explain the rest away.

Synchronicity: FFC Interviews Aharon Keshales & Navot Papushado, writers/directors of "Big Bad Wolves"

Just a couple of weeks after I caught writer-director Aharon Keshales and Navot Papushado's Big Bad Wolves at the 4^th Mile High Horror Film Festival, Quentin Tarantino, having seen it himself at the Busan International Film Festival, declared it to be his favourite movie of 2013. Turns out QT screening the picture at a South Korean event represents a special kind of synchronicity, given that both he and South Korea's fulsome genre cinema were key influences on Kehsales & Papushado. Seeing both of Keshales and Papushado's films when I did (before I got a chance to screen Big Bad Wolves, I was inspired by the buzz on it to track down their 2010 debut, Rabies) felt like a bit of synchronicity in itself--or, at least, I felt lucky that I was able to catch this wave right at the moment that it crests and heads to shore. When I reached out to Mr. Keshales to see if he might be interested in an interview, he was quick to agree and then, over missed connections, a miscommunication about time zones (8 p.m. in Israel is 11 a.m. in Colorado, go figure), a bad Skype link, a newly-purchased cell-mike still package-fresh, and finally a cell call from a street in Israel (where Papushado almost got creamed by a car) to a suburb in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, I was able to chat at last with Keshales and Papushado: the faces--the only ones, as it happens--of Israeli horror and a new day dawning in Israeli cinema.

MHHFF '13: FFC Interviews "We Are What We Are" Director Jim Mickle

The Curtis Hotel is right across the street from the Denver Performing Arts Complex--a city block "hollowed out" in the middle that houses Denver's premier venues: the ones for the opera, the ballet, the symphony, and touring companies of Broadway productions. On a hot day in September, I walked through the complex, under the four-storey-high glass canopy, to the Curtis. It's a fun place, this hotel; the floors have themes. I met Jim Mickle on the superhero floor, on the morning his film was to screen at the 4^th Mile High Horror Film Festival. He's a tall guy, affable, friendly, and not at all what I was expecting after watching his sober, dense, matriarchal horror movie We Are What We Are. I expected, at the least, a tweed coat with leather patches on the elbows. On the last day of publicity for the film, after which he was returning to editing duties on his adaptation of Joe Lansdale's awesome noir Cold in July, I promised I would try to avoid asking him questions he'd already answered a few dozen times before--although I couldn't resist bringing up Kelly McGillis and Witness because, yeah, I'm a big, giant dork. We started off, though, talking about Antonia Bird's Ravenous and his own film's Ravenous feel.

Telluride '13: FFC Interviews "Under the Skin" Director Jonathan Glazer

On my way up the side of the mountain to the Chuck Jones Theater in the unlit gondola that serves as Telluride's free public transportation, I watched a small cluster of lights recede beneath me, reminding me that Telluride is a tiny bubble in the middle of nowhere, really. Riding at night, all you hear is the whirr of the gondola's gears and the whisk of wind whipping through the wires and trees. I was on my way to meet a good friend I only see once every two or three years, if that--she having just arrived after a day of delays and missed connections, me still acclimating to being back in the saddle, actively covering a festival I'd last attended in 2002. It was a hurried reunion: a quick hello, and then we were seated for what was, for me, the one film I felt I could not miss at this festival. Truly, I can't imagine a better way to have seen Under the Skin for the first time.

Youth Is Heavy: FFC Interviews Olivier Assayas

May 23, 2013|"We didn't really know where we were heading," Olivier Assayas writes of his generation's amorphousness following the civil unrest of the late-1960s, "but the journey was exciting, charging time with meaning and offering a horizon all the more desired for our having had foretaste in May that had left a nasty feeling of unfulfillment." An anarchist preteen during the general strikes and student occupations that rocked Paris in May of 1968, Assayas came of age in the countercultural afterglow of the early 1970s, as part of a splintered youth culture struggling to realize the intellectual and political work of their predecessors in radically different ways. Surely owing to that belatedness, Assayas's reworkings of this historical moment, both in his memoir A Post-May Adolescence and in his films set during the same formative years (1994's Cold Water and 2010's Carlos), are shot through with ambivalence: They're as interested in that nasty feeling of unfulfillment as they are excited about the freedom of travelling without a map.

Tippi: FFC Interviews Actress Tippi Hedren

A conversation with the last of the Hitchcock Blondes

According to Donald Spoto's 1983 biography The Dark Side of Genius, Alfred Hitchcock's tendency to become overly enamoured with his blonde stars reached an ugly head with Tippi Hedren during the filming of Marnie. Revisiting the book now, several years after first reading it and resisting some of the allegations therein, I see an author whose love for Hitchcock the auteur is at war with the unpleasant details of his subject's emotional life. As Ms. Hedren so delicately put it when I had the pleasure of chatting with her the other night: "As a man, [Hitchcock] was found wanting." Spoto's declaration that Marnie is a result of sloth but also unusually personal and effective as art and even memoir illustrates, I think, the schism at which most scholars of Hitchcock at some point arrive. When I read The Dark Side of Genius as a college freshman, it was a gateway to understanding better exactly what was going on in Notorious, and exactly what Hitchcock's men are always playing out.

Keeping Score: FFC Interviews "Payback" Filmmakers Jennifer Baichwal and Margaret Atwood

It's PAYBACK's time

March 16, 2012 | The Massey Lectures are as much a Canadian institution as the RCMP, so it's fitting that I spotted honorary Mountie Paul Gross in the audience of Margaret Atwood's closing talk back in 2008. Landing at the anxious first crest of the financial crisis, Atwood's lectures, collected and published as the best-selling Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth, were regarded as the latest in the internationally-renowned author's string of prophesies come true. (The Handmaid's Tale's dystopian vision of an American theocracy that reduces women to reproductive concubines might now be mistaken for Rick Santorum's four-year prospectus.) Yet Atwood wastes no time in announcing that debt is not in vogue so much as hardwired into human patterns of thinking. Nor does she offer financial advice, playfully following her interest in score-keeping wherever it takes her, whether to the Victorian novel, where a parent's balance sheet can make or break a marriage, or to how we think about the penance in penitentiaries.

The Ghost Writer: FFC Interviews "The Innkeepers" Writer-Director Ti West

THE INNKEEPERS writer-director Ti West on the right way to use a train set

The Future is Now: FFC Interviews Miranda July|The Future (2011)

Miranda July reflects on The Future

THE FUTURE ***/****

starring Hamish Linklater, Miranda July, David Warshofsky, Isabella Acres written and directed by Miranda July

In The Future, writer/director/star Miranda July indulges in the same wayward malaise of her previous film, Me and You and Everyone We Know, but, somewhat ironically, the focus on the uncertainty of "what comes next" makes this one seem a lot less scattershot. Dance teacher Sophie (July) and tech-support guy Jason (Hamish Linklater) have rescued a sickly cat from the wild and sent him to an animal shelter, and they've got a month until they can reclaim him. However, the cat will require 'round-the-clock care from them to stay alive, so they conclude that this is their last "free" month before years-long responsibilities squander their potential, and they quit their jobs in a bid to become more "spontaneous." Jason goes door-to-door selling trees for an environmental program and Sophie decides to film "thirty dances over thirty days" for a short-track to YouTube stardom. But neither one is prepared for the apathy and self-loathing that greets their cutesy little endeavours, and as they spin their wheels, they gravitate towards people who appear to "really have their shit together": Sophie becomes attracted to a single father with a small business (David Warshofsky), while Jason regularly visits an old man (Joe Putterlik) who once sold him a used hairdryer. What's important is that July quickly establishes that these behaviours are not a matter of self-improvement or jealousy--it's just a hell of a lot easier to stare at the lives of others and marvel at how organized they look from the outside. In other words, Sophie and Jason take no real "action" of their own accord; everything they do is just another bit of slacktivism to avoid the responsibilities for which they're supposedly preparing. Her self-esteem takes a hit as she views other women's "dancing" videos, so she cancels her Internet and calls it a great opportunity to focus. July makes this sheltered worldview all the more fascinating by introducing an element of surrealism--soon, her characters' paradoxical desires to move forward and stand still give them to power to bend the universe to their will, as an imminent break-up is stalled by the literal stoppage of time. (And yet, time still manages to march on.) The self-conscious obviousness of its metaphors give The Future a strong grounding in reality, rendering even July's silliest notions--such as a series of helium-inflected monologues from the cat himself (the only neglected "victim" in this scenario), waiting for his loving masters to return--deeply affecting.-IP

August 7, 2011|Miranda July is very much like the characters she plays, and they are very much like her: she stares at you with wide, intense eyes, and her responses trail off once she realizes that she's revealed all she wants to about a given subject. She's in town to promote her second feature film, The Future, for the Boston Independent Film Festival, and we both seem a little eager to discover if indeed this sophomore effort can be discussed at length. Over the course of our conversation, we shared a couple of awkward laughs--in mutual recognition, I think, of the inherent absurdity of this meeting; we had been tasked to interpret and explain an intentionally abstract piece dealing with moving on and growing older, about which the creator must refuse a "full" explanation. Still, though July insists on keeping some things secret, she comes across as utterly sincere--so much so that I felt a pang of remorse when I realized that I had unintentionally lied to her by not attending the festival's screening of The Future like I said I would. Several days later, given another interview opportunity for a different film, I made it a point to ask her husband Mike Mills to apologize on my behalf.

Subjectivity: FFC Interviews Mike Mills

Starting fresh with the director of BEGINNERS

June 19, 2011|All of Mike Mills's films--narratives, documentaries, and music videos alike--share a common theme of perspective: how the individual views others, how others view the individual, and the projections that exist on both sides. Although I was somewhat skeptical of its indie quirk, Mills's Beginners left me thinking about the people in my life, past and present; I was genuinely affected by its interpersonal dynamics. As it happens, a major fulcrum of Mills's work is that he creates a dialogue not only between the artist and the masses--he also strives to forge a bond with the individual. After several days of combing through his filmography in preparation for the interview below, I finally discovered that Mills had been keeping a video diary on the official website for Beginners chronicling the sights he's seen and the people he's met on the movie's press tour. It hardly came as a surprise.

A Very Civil Dialogue: FFC Interviews Tom Shadyac

May 1, 2011|"Ian, my brother." A casual greeting turned into an awkward embrace, and I realized then that all the time I had spent researching director Tom Shadyac's career wasn't going to play much of a role in the ensuing conversation. Shadyac was in town to discuss I Am, his self-conscious, documentary break from light family fare--which, he hopes, will change a few minds about the essential nature of humanity. (If he doesn't consider the days of Ace Ventura, The Nutty Professor, and Bruce Almighty to be behind him, this was not, I correctly surmised, the publicity tour on which to discuss it.) When we sat down to talk, I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about I Am. The director sensed my skepticism from the very beginning, and he didn't try to convert me in any traditional sense of the word. He just wanted to hash out our respective feelings on the film and have a decent conversation about them. I sort of wish that his vibrant personality shone through in I Am as well as it did in person; his statements here were delivered like an interesting university lecture, whereas the movie feels a bit more hectoring in its approach. And, yes, he followed through with a second hug at the end of the interview.

Real Questions: FFC Interviews James Gunn

April 3, 2011|James Gunn has spent most of his career rewriting icons of decades past (Tromeo and Juliet, Dawn of the Dead, the big-screen Scooby-Doo pictures), and while I share many of my editor's misgivings about Gunn's latest post-modern exercise, Super, I was looking forward to interviewing him when his PA tour came around to Boston. Gunn had fifteen years on me, but it seemed apparent that our genre obsessions had sprung from similar sources. (Fresh out of college, I relished in the insanity of Gunn's then-recent Slither.) Still, despite our common lexicon, it took us a few minutes to get a bead on each other. "Just don't be like that last guy," Gunn told me with a laugh as I turned on my tape recorder. "He had two recording devices. He turned off the first one, and then I said some stuff that I shouldn't have said, and the thing was still recording. And I'm like, 'oh, fuck'--'cause he got me to say exactly what he was trying to get me to say."

Passing Through: FFC Interviews the Farrelly Brothers

February 27, 2011|Having conducted my usual round of research (re-watching the movies, poring over the DVD commentaries and other making-of material), the Farrelly brothers were pretty much how I expected them to be when I interviewed them at the Ritz-Carlton in Boston: older brother Peter is very talkative and up for an impromptu debate, while Bobby is content to hang back and drop the occasional pearl of wisdom into the conversation. Of course, research only prepares you for so much. Their career-defining gross-out sight gags have never been my cup of tea, but just about every one of their films (including their latest, Hall Pass) is driven by an unmistakable--perhaps surprising--humanity. Still, it wasn't until our discussion heated up that I truly began to appreciate the source of that humanity. The Farrellys seemed a little surprised that anyone would bring it up, but their innate kindness shined through as we talked about their approach to making movies. (I feel somewhat privileged, actually, to have witnessed it firsthand.) It's obvious that they've spent their joint career striving to promote an egalitarianism in Hollywood--not just with their all-inclusive casting decisions, but also with their embrace of the test-screening process as a barometer of artistic success.

Natural Habitat: FFC Interviews David Michôd & Ben Mendelsohn

August 22, 2010|I met up with David Michôd and Ben Mendelsohn--director and star, respectively, of the exceptional Aussie crime drama Animal Kingdom--in the dining room of Denver's Panzano for a little breakfast and espresso. In the middle of an exhausting schedule for the duo that saw them shuttling back and forth across the United States in support of their film, they appeared to be mutually nursing some variety of respiratory ailment--just one symptom (along with red eyes and a pale complexion) of too much time spent breathing recirculated air in the company of strangers. Entirely unpretentious and unfailingly polite, both wore torn T-shirts and shabby jeans, sported two-day growths of stubble, and seemed completely comfortable with me, probably because I was dressed, more or less, in exactly the same way. I liked them instantly.

How I Did It: FFC Interviews Vincenzo Natali

With Splice, director Vincenzo Natali's career comes alive. ALIVE!

June 6, 2010|I had been invited to interview Vincenzo Natali, and although I immediately acquainted myself with his previous work, nothing could prepare me for the film he was coming to Boston to promote. Indeed, anyone who's seen the trailers for Natali's latest, the Frankenstein-ian family drama Splice, is certain to be surprised by what the final product has in store. You didn't see that one comin', did ya? I know I didn't.

The Age of Unintended Consequences: FFC Interviews David Russo

THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION OF LITTLE DIZZLE *** (out of four)

starring Marshall Allman, Vince Vieluf, Natasha Lyonne, Tygh Runyan written and directed by David Russo

The scion of a constipated generation, Seattle tech worker Dory (Marshall Allman) is sampling religions like grab-bag candy when a sealed bottle floats past during his lunch-hour Bible study. The message within could be either from God or from the famously polluted Puget Sound itself, but it sets Dory on a career-destroying spiral that ends with a new job on an office cleaning crew, scrubbing johns alongside renegade "artist" OC (Vince Vieluf). One of their clients is product lab Corsica Research, where a young exec (Natasha Lyonne, long missed but giving the least authentic performance here) decides the trash-scavenging janitors are perfect test subjects for an awful but addictive new cookie. The active ingredient impregnates men first with an altered consciousness (whole concepts break loose from language and float free in the air, in electrically beautiful F/X sequences), and finally with what can only be described as an incandescent blue lungfish. But it's not so much an Alien-esque affliction as an epiphany, with each man finding peace and even enlightenment in this scatological process of "childbirth." No longer adrift, they're vessels for a new life--the only kind that can survive, it's implied, in a world where Zoloft flows from the kitchen tap and breakfast just isn't a meal without Yellow Dye No. 5. Allman and Vieluf play perfectly off each other under Seattle writer-director David Russo, whose jitter-editing and hallucination segments recall Darren Aronofsky and whose screenplay references Philip K. Dick. Russo's deployment of soundtrack music skillfully twists the knife where it counts--witness the lo-fi but enchanting version of the Carpenters' "Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft" (by The Langley Schools Music Project, fascinating in itself) that closes the film, as Dory deposits a new message in the water and contemplates, as all new fathers must, a future for his children.-JR

April 21, 2010|The films of David Russo have a distinctly handmade feel, and often the hand becomes visible. A largely self-taught filmmaker and animator, he makes no pretense that he's not manipulating the action. When he sets his models into neon time-lapse against backdrops that strobe from sky to sea to blackness, he almost always winds up in the shot. In Russo's short creations and in his first feature film, The Immaculate Conception of Little Dizzle, bespoke art objects--or even just words--make long, looping journeys in search of some answer. But like most philosophical quests, the journey is more important than its endpoint.

While he developed his craft Russo carried on an eleven-year career as a janitor, a vocation that sharpened his sense of the things society values: what we keep, what we cast away, what we flush. His short art films Populi (2002) and Pan With Us (2003) (viewable here, along with most of the artist's other work) gave him his first wider exposure, competing at the Sundance Film Festival in consecutive years. More recently, his hand-wrought animation lent texture to the video for Thom Yorke's "Harrowdown Hill" (2006).

Dizzle's path from script to screen was fraught with financing issues and a slender production window. It wasn't bought for distribution after its Sundance debut in early 2009, and by the time it reached Russo's hometown Seattle International Film Festival the same year, its hopes for release were no better. Finally, Robert De Niro's Tribeca Film picked up Dizzle for a brief 2010 New York theatrical engagement and a video-on-demand run that starts today. Russo's renegade janitors, chemically enlightened and midwifing the birth of a new species, might manage to swim free of the sewers after all.

Accept with Simplicity: FFC Interviews Michael Stuhlbarg

October 18, 2009|When you're a stage actor who's suddenly found himself the lead in the new Coen Brothers picture and playing Arnold Rothstein on "Boardwalk Empire", Martin Scorsese's upcoming HBO series, you're more or less obliged to accept the mantle of Rising Star. There's no doubting this guy is going places. Yet A Serious Man's Michael Stuhlbarg is exceedingly modest in describing his craft, dismissing his own contributions with a day-job casualness that seems to leave the fancy artistic crap for his directors to figure out. All things considered, his superficial distance from in-depth discussion might be a consequence of the endless variations on "What's it like to work with the Coens?" or "What's it like working with Scorsese?" he'd undoubtedly been asked dozens of times before we met at Boston's Ritz-Carlton Hotel. Either that, or he's reluctant to put too fine a point on a profession (and a film) noted for its slippery nature.

Docu-Drama: FFC Interviews Charlyne Yi and Jake Johnson

PAPER HEART's Charlyne Yi and Jake Johnson talk love and filmmaking

August 9, 2009|It's early afternoon, and I'm at an empty nightclub lounge to discuss Paper Heart with the film's lead actress and co-writer Charlyne Yi and her co-star Jake Johnson. Immediately upon introducing myself, she tells me that "Ian" was the name of her kindergarten crush. Segues into hybrid-documentaries about the nature of love and romance don't get much easier than that, but this little tidbit establishes a casual-yet-uncomfortable tone for the rest of our conversation. Yi is only a year-and-a-half younger than I am, and the discussion is so natural, the setting so easygoing, that I suppose it became difficult to not regard each other as peers. Her nervous laughter is always present, punctuating even the most self-evident of observations (oftentimes prompting nervous laughter of my own), but she's not nearly as clumsy and coy as her comedy act would have you believe. Meanwhile, Johnson's appearance--complete with an unshaven face and a long, dark, horseshoe moustache--is so far removed from his role as a fictionalized version of the film's director, Nick Jasenovec, that it takes me a moment to mentally register with whom I'm actually speaking. He's an interesting fellow, very animated and willing to engage you no matter what you ask--but as our dialogue heats up, he throws me off again by effortlessly taking the reins on most of the "filmmaking" questions. Even I begin to mistake him for his cinematic counterpart, unconsciously turning to him when the questions are more technical in nature.

What We Talk About When We Talk About Like: FFC Interviews Lynn Shelton

Humpday director Lynn Shelton wants her men get to know each other better

July 10, 2009|It's mere coincidence, filmmaker Lynn Shelton will tell you, that her last two movies plumb the phenomenon of men reaching a make-or-break point in their friendships. Coincidence also, one assumes, that both films feature these bosom bros sprawled out across the same bed after the climax. The soft-spoken exploration Shelton began in My Effortless Brilliance (2008) finds a comedic payoff in Humpday, her third feature, which won a special jury prize at Sundance. In June, the film came to the Seattle International Film Festival for its first screening in Shelton's native city and base of operations--where it proceeded to win none of SIFF's upper-echelon awards, netting low runner-up status in the categories of best film and best actor (for Mark Duplass) and a second-place showing for Shelton as best director (with first-place going to The Hurt Locker's Kathryn Bigelow). Symptoms of a hometown backlash? Still, her flick had already outpaced many of its SIFF fellows in the race for distribution and strong word-of-mouth.

Foreign Correspondent: FFC Interviews Ed Helms

June 7, 2009|Meeting him at the Ritz-Carlton in Boston to discuss The Hangover, it was almost immediately apparent that Ed Helms is right in the middle of a difficult transitional period between television and film: "The Daily Show" is long behind him, "The Office" is opening up countless new avenues, and Judd Apatow is referring to him as a national treasure. The Hangover isn't exactly the kind of film you can discuss at great length--you either pass the jokes amongst your comrades or simply dismiss its juvenilia out-of-hand--but it features enough depth in its performances to jumpstart a conversation about this actor, his talents, and the circumstances that brought him here. Zach Galifianakis may be the one you end up quoting after the end credits roll, but as Stu Price, a worrywart dentist who wakes up from a drug-fuelled night in Vegas to find that he's missing a tooth, Helms is the most nuanced member of the cast, capturing the essence of The Hangover's most delirious highs while keeping himself--and the movie--grounded in a bewildered reality. Helms admits that he's not entirely comfortable with the subject of himself, but he's a good sport about it nonetheless, keeping you at a somewhat businesslike distance from his early career but still game to reflect on where he's been and where he's going.

On His Own Terms: FFC Interviews James Toback

TYSON **½/****

directed by James Toback

Mike Tyson isn't a difficult guy to figure out--or, at least, he doesn't think he is anymore. Given the opportunity to wax nostalgic for the entirety of James Toback's documentary Tyson, the former champ indulges in a series of anecdotes taking us through his training under Cus D'Amato, his rape conviction, and the infamous "Bite Fight," concluding that it could all be traced back to his bullied childhood. From there, it becomes easier to understand that everything in his life--from his demeanour in the ring to his hunger for sexual conquest--was dictated by a desire to push himself to the edge, something he did for the better part of twenty-five years until inevitably losing the eye of the tiger. ("Old too soon, smart too late," Tyson states in a chillingly matter-of-fact manner.) But for all his exorcised demons, he carries with him a great deal of bitterness and obliviousness. Regarding the "ten or twenty million" he won in a hundred-million dollar lawsuit against Don King as "some small amount," Tyson clearly maintains the perhaps-unavoidable, unshakeable detachment from reality attendant to living a superstar's lifestyle. As obvious as Tyson may seem, there's a fascinating conundrum to be found in its subject's recitation of the most famous lines from "The Ballad of Reading Gaol," which invites questions as to how and when he was hit by the epiphanies repeated herein--and what, precisely, he's still missing to complete that sense of self-awareness. Because this man fits so comfortably within Toback's autobiographical pantheon of poetic brutes leading double lives, one gets the distinct feeling that the filmmaker has attempted to fill in any thematic gaps with expressions of his own auteurism. Backed by a cacophony of conflicting, overlapping voices (Tyson's own), the shifting-split-screen aesthetic occasionally draws insight into how the boxer's whirlwind existence has affected his mind, yet as a drum beaten relentlessly, it more often suggests a conscious link back to Black and White (Toback's first narrative film to feature Tyson) than a visual representation Tyson's duplicitous or schizophrenic tendencies. As such, Tyson's number one problem is that it fancies itself as not so much a genuine portrait of its subject as a general dissertation on the follies of life. Make no mistake that the hour-and-a-half we spend with this man is an engaging one--particularly considering that the most stinging indictments of character come from Tyson himself, whether he realizes it or not. Ultimately, Tyson is just a little too comfortable with leaving us the simple platitude that choices are made and every decision has a consequence.-IP

May 10, 2009|I was largely oblivious of this man, who had somehow slipped beneath my radar until editor Bill kindly offered me a comprehensive crash-course in preparation for Tyson. But my reactions to the films of James Toback were perhaps easy to predict. His wonderful hyphenate debut, 1978's Fingers, knocked me on my ass with astonishing ease, and I quickly recognized the familiar tropes that have been dissected by countless critics over the course of Toback's storied career: mothers, black culture, double lives, three-way orgies... When we finally met at Boston's Liberty Hotel, Mr. Toback answered my questions in lengthy, lecturing paragraphs about how his second documentary in twenty years in some sense deals with how much of himself he sees in the ex-heavyweight champ--a point made clear long before he ever vocalized it outright. I suppose the same could be said for the rest of his work: an overwhelming percentage of what he has to say in Tyson can be traced back to the major themes of his first credited screenplay, The Gambler. From the way the conversation shifted in tone when I started talking about Tyson through the prism of his other films, I think Toback was pulling rank as a self-conscious auteur. Recognizing me as a young turk who had done his homework (and a stringent believer in the auteur theory to boot), he switched from his standardized patter to general philosophizing that, in its pre-emptive critical deflection, effectively rendered any real conversation moot. (Three-ways sadly went undiscussed.) As such, there's a palpable familiarity to the whole thing: his responses weren't canned, exactly, but they're definitely reflections of philosophies already laid bare on the silver screen for all to see.

FILM FREAK CENTRAL: So how are you doing?
JAMES TOBACK: Other than no cartilage in my knees, the movie's going great. I've been very pleasantly surprised by this almost unanimously great reaction. Usually my movies have separated people. There are a lot of devotees who gets excited and people who sort of can't wait for a movie of mine to come out so they can shoot arrows in my neck. And then in between a lot of people in who kind of feel ambivalent. And this movie, of all movies, I was sure would have that kind of split, and so far it's been almost like Shrek in the way it's come across. Which I can't explain, except that I think the surprise of the way Tyson comes across wins over most of the people in that group of potential antagonists, where they go expecting to feel anger and rage towards him, and they end up being, in a way, disarmed.