This unforgettable two-part Canadian TV docudrama (1992) deals forcefully though not exploitatively with a very delicate subject–the sexual abuse and sadistic treatment of boys at a Catholic orphanage in Newfoundland by some of the religious brothers assigned to take care of them. Suggested by real-life events (and consequently held back from public broadcast while a related investigation was under way), the two 95-minute features are sensitively directed by John N. Smith and cogently written by Smith, Des Walsh, and Sam Grana. The first part focuses on the relationship between a key offender and a ten-year-old who has been singled out as “his boy,” leading to a complaint lodged by a janitor and a subsequent police investigation followed by a hasty cover-up. The second part charts the reopening of the case 15 years later, when the offender, who has long since left the order to become a respectable husband and father, is summoned to a hearing, along with his victim and a key witness, both young men now. Neither homophobic nor psychologically pat, the film doesn’t make the mistake of pretending to offer the last word on the subject, and is striking most of all for the nuanced performance of Henry Czerny as the main offender, though all the acting is first-rate. Read more
Along with Oja Kodar, cinematographer and low-budget filmmaker Gary Graver was the most faithful and indefatigable of Orson Welles’s collaborators over the last quarter century of his life, and this endearing but ramshackle feature-length video by Graver (1993) is like a conducted tour through the cameraman’s closet. The most precious documents on view are the original trailers for Citizen Kane and F for Fake, both in effect self-contained short works by Welles. (The first was made during the production of Kane; the second, an extravagant nine minutes long, was made more than three years after the European release of F for Fake, and because the feature’s U.S. distributor refused to process it, it survives only as a black-and-white work print.) But Graver is too generous and indiscriminate to stop there; he also offers the trailers for David and Goliath (a cheesy epic in which Welles plays King Saul) and Kodar’s first feature, Jaded (a singular exploitation item, still unreleased in the U.S., in which one can catch glimpses of Welles’s unreleased The Merchant of Venice). There are also a few fugitive clips from better-known Welles features, but the main topic broached is Welles’s unreleased The Other Side of the Wind, which still awaits completion funding; there’s no plot description or final footage, but its production is recalled by Cameron Mitchell, Susan Strasberg, Frank Marshall, Peter Jason, Curtis Harrington, and Peter Bogdanovich. Read more
A very suggestive, interesting BBC documentary (1993) by Kim Longinotto and Jano Williams about the Takarazuka Revuea Japanese all-female theater company and school, founded in 1914 and based in suburban Osakaand their female fans. The filmmakers don’t make many inferences about the psychosexual implications of this phenomenon, but the performers and fans have a lot to say, and some of the teachers (all male) have a few things to add. (JR) Read more
An exceptional personal documentary, Deborah Hoffman’s Complaints of a Dutiful Daughter is a beautifully precise, acute, intelligent, practical, touching, and even (at times) comic record of how she copes with her discovery that her mother has Alzheimer’s disease. Using video and audio recordings of her interactions with her mother and some on-camera statements of her own, Hoffman charts in haunting detail precisely what memory loss entails, not only for her mother but for her as she adjusts to the situation. Full of wisdom and insight about its subject, this 44-minute essay film is far from depressing. (JR) Read more
The third and best feature (1994, 99 min.) of Krzysztof Kieslowski’s highly ambitious Three Colors trilogy concentrates on the theme of fraternity (Blue tackled liberty, White equality). The principal characters are a young student and model (Irene Jacob) and a cynical retired judge (Jean-Louis Trintignant) whose paths cross by chance in Geneva, and in a way their meeting comes to stand for a good many of the other accidental incidents threaded through this densely textured movie, including one that ties up many of the loose ends of the two previous films. The telephone and (to a lesser degree) the TV set both play substantial roles in linking these and other lives, but they are far from the only linchpins in Kieslowski’s poetic universe; among others are the color red and the filmmaker’s own sardonic identification with the mordant former judge, who eavesdrops on the phone conversations of his neighbors and seems to hate them and himself in about equal measure. In French with subtitles. (JR) Read more
Even a romantic individualist like King Vidor, who would later film Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead, was sufficiently stirred by socialist ideals during the Depression to make this exciting independent effort (1934) about an all-American couple who decide to pool their resources with others and build a collective farm. Beautifully directed and edited, this is one of the best and most energetic of Vidor’s early talkies, brimming with hope and enthusiasm and sparked by a wonderful climactic sequence. There’s even some melodrama when a love triangle elbows its way into the plot. With Tom Keene (an uneven performance), Karen Morley, and John Qualen. (JR) Read more
D.W. Griffith takes on the French Revolution, including pussyfooting Robespierre (his epithet), many other famous historical figures, and the sisters Lillian and Dorothy Gish in one of the best of the director’s late silent epics (1922). Shot on 14 acres at Mamaroneck, New York, and based on Adolph Ennery’s 19th-century French play The Two Orphans, the film is full of suspense and melodrama. With Joseph Schildkraut, Lucille LaVerne, Monte Blue, and Louis Wolheim. 150 min. (JR) Read more
Adapting a script by Henri-Georges Clouzot (The Wages of Fear, Diabolique) that Clouzot didn’t live long enough to film, Claude Chabrol dives into this story of obsessive and paranoid jealousy with a great deal of style and confidence, and one is waiting breathlessly for a second act or some sort of denouement when, alas, the film simply ends. The story, set on Lake Saint-Ferreol in Lauraguais, France, takes place largely in the mind of the recent purchaser of a deluxe resort hotel, who starts to suspect irrationally that his newlywed wife (played by Emmanuelle Beart) is having sex with a nearby garage mechanic; his fears grow as his imagination runs amok. (The title means hell.) With Francois Cluzet and Nathalie Cardone. (JR) Read more
This fruitful collaboration (1994) between Chicago independent Joseph Ramirez and Illinois poet Paul Hoover is a major advance over Ramirez’s attempt to yoke cinema with poetry in his first feature, Descent. Shot with a Chicago cast and crew in rural Iowa, Viridian follows the painful adjustments of a divorced young woman and her little boy as they move from one rented farmhouse to another, focusing on her dreams as well as her waking thoughts. Though the plot is minimal, the gorgeous cinematography (by Sean Culver, who also served as editor) and Hoover’s writing, most of which figures as the woman’s offscreen narration, mesh with each other in arresting and mysterious ways. The marriage of lonely figures and landscapes occasionally recalls some of the best features of Jon Jost, and the functional performances by Diane Weyerman, Mathew Brennan, and James Larkin allow Ramirez to weave meditative moods around the evocative words and images. (JR) Read more
Anne Rice adapted the first volume of her Vampire Chronicles for this 1994 feature. A vampire (Brad Pitt) recounts his life story to a reporter (Christian Slater) in contemporary San Francisco. The film seems pitched mainly to people familiar with the book, and you may be perplexed about some background detailssuch as the identity of the interviewer and even who the vampire is at the beginning of his tale, when he’s still a mortal and encounters the vampire Lestat (Tom Cruise) in late-18th-century New Orleans. But if you can get swept up in the story, the movie is imaginative and compelling. After the story moves to France, the superb visualization of catacombs may put you in mind of Poe. Directed by Neil Jordan (The Crying Game), this is an ambitious, florid epic with some fine, eerie moments tied to a little girl played by Kirsten Dunst. But a more explicit spelling out of the story’s gay subtext would have helped. With Stephen Rea and Antonio Banderas. R, 122 min. (JR) Read more
This unforgettable two-part Canadian TV docudrama (1992) deals forcefully though not exploitatively with a very delicate subjectthe sexual abuse and sadistic treatment of boys at a Catholic orphanage in Newfoundland by some of the religious brothers assigned to take care of them. Suggested by real-life events (and consequently held back from public broadcast while an investigation was under way), this work consists of two 95-minute features, both sensitively directed by John N. Smith and cogently written by Smith, Des Walsh, and Sam Grana. The first part focuses on the relationship between a key offender and a ten-year-old who’s been singled out as his boy, leading to a complaint lodged by a janitor, a police investigation, and a hasty cover-up. The second part charts the reopening of the case 15 years later, when the offender, who’s long since left the orphanage to become a respectable family man, is summoned to a hearing along with his victim and a key witness, both now young men. Neither homophobic nor psychologically pat in its approach, the film doesn’t make the mistake of pretending to offer the last word on the subject and is most striking for the nuanced performance of Henry Czerny as the main offender, though all the acting is first-rate. Read more
Joseph Green’s low-budget feature (1963) about a surgeon trying to find a body to attach to the decapitated but still-living head of his fiancee. Legendary for its sheer awfulness, the film was shot in Tarrytown, New York, and wasn’t released until several years later, which automatically makes it ripe for canonization today. With Herb (Jason) Evers and Virginia Leith. 81 min. (JR) Read more
The title of this 1994 would-be spin-off of Bram Stoker’s Dracula is something of a misnomer, and the film itself provides further proof of Kenneth Branagh’s faltering skill as a filmmaker whenever he tries to move beyond Shakespeare. Though Steph Lady and Frank Darabont’s script certainly comes closer to Mary Shelley’s novel than do either of James Whale’s Frankenstein moviesrestoring the framing story that takes place in the arctic circle and giving the monster more of a human intelligence and sensibilitymost of the feminist implications of the novel seem lost on Branagh and his writers, who’ve replaced them with homoerotic overtones and other distortions. Robert De Niro does a fine job of impersonating the monster, but the choppy storytelling deprives his performance of the resonance it deserves, and Branagh himself as Frankenstein emerges as muddled and ill defined. With Tom Hulce, Helena Bonham Carter, Aidan Quinn, Ian Holm, Richard Briers, and John Cleese. R, 128 min. (JR) Read more
Though it’s ridiculous on many levels, especially as a story that purports to be set in the Mississippi backwoods in 1970, this movie about a Vietnam vet (Kevin Costner) suffering from posttraumatic stress who tries to rebuild his life and establish a home for his family manages to succeed at times in spite of itself. The main emphasis here is on the feuds and friendships formed by his kids with other local children, some of them black, in relation to a tree house that serves as a fort, which ultimately leads to a rather overblown climax. Directed by Jon Avnet (Fried Green Tomatoes) from a script by Kathy McWorter, the movie often shows more heart than head (the implied parallels of the kids’ skirmishes with the war in Vietnam, glimpsed in a few flashbacks, are never clearly worked out), but the force of some of the performancesby LaToya Chisholm, Elijah Wood, and Mare Winningham as well as Costnerhave a lingering impact. With Lexi Randall, Christine Baranski, Bruce A. Young, and Charlette Julius. (JR) Read more
Jean-Pierre Melville’s 1967 story of a lonely hit man (Alain Delon) is stylish and elegant, though not really the holy writ that Quentin Tarantino and John Woo have claimed. Though Melville sustained himself with American-style thrillers in the last decade of his life, his best versions of American noir arguably remain the earlier ones in black and white (my own favorite is 1966’s Le deuxieme souffle). This one certainly has its moments (particularly the coordinated police chase through the Paris metro), but its women characters are faintly ridiculous, while the men are mainly suave icons. Henri Decae’s brilliant color cinematography finds something metallic blue gray in virtually every shot, and the film is alluring as long as one remains captivated by its mannerist and slightly monotonous style. Despite a hefty (and fabricated) quote from The Book of Bushido about the loneliness of the samurai, this is all about attitude and machismo rather than soul, which is why it winds up feeling somewhat flat. Based on Joan McLeod’s novel The Ronin; in French with subtitles. 101 min. (JR) Read more
