It’s 1967 and a hammer-weilding serial killer is loose on the streets of Krakow. 19-year-old military diver Karol Kremer (Filip Plawiak) puts two and two together after he finds a bloody body at a carnival and spots the killer, a middleaged veterinarian (Adam Woronowicz), leaving the scene. His obsession gives way to a strange relationship that can’t end well. Grim and peculiar, The Red Spider unfolds deliberately and slowly– at times painfully so. But it pays off in the end.
The original show about nothing, A Married Woman walks us through fragments of a day in the life of Charlotte (Macha Méril), a young wife torn between two lovers: her practical husband (Philippe Leroy) and her passionate, intellectual paramour (Bernard Noël). Apparently not in a hurry to choose one over the other, she’s thrown into a pickle when her doctor informs her she’s pregnant and she realizes that she doesn’t know which one is the father.
Heavy on closeups and dialogue, A Married Woman is thoroughly Modernist: more a treatise than a story, it delves into subjects like relationships, love, sex, morality, and the differences bewteen men and women through conversations that are practically interviews. Jean-Luc Godard stated that this film “attacks a certain mode of life; that of air conditioning, of the prefabricated, of advertising.” His sentiment is evident in all three yuppiesque main characters: they seem detached and adrift, oblivious to the impact their actions have on those around them. A Married Woman is sensual but not sexy, intimate but not warm, critical but not exactly moralistic, and clever but not always interesting.
It’s not all dour, though. Rita Maiden as the couple’s chatty housekeeper adds a priceless air of levity. A scene revealing Charlotte’s thoughts as she eavesdrops on two girls discussing sex at a cafe is hilarious if kinda mean. Gorgeous shots of midcentury Paris play like moving postcards. The little stuff here kept me engaged. I appreciate what Godard was getting at, but I found his execution ultimately underwhelming.
Trainwreck is a snarky romantic comedy that starts out promising but loses steam. Amy Schumer—who falls into a group of female comedians who bank on their guy humor sensibilities—is perfect as a detached trollop working as a writer for a men’s magazine. Her boss assigns her to a story about a sports doctor (Bill Hader) who perfected a new knee surgery, and a spark develops. Hilarity ensues—at least until the movie takes a serious turn.
Trainwreck is loaded with potty humor and sex jokes, and many of them are laugh out loud funny. I related to a few scenarios here, I should be ashamed to admit. John Cena and his ass are great as Amy’s lunkhead gay-but-doesn’t-know-it boyfriend, Tilda Swinton is unrecognizable as Amy’s boss, and LeBron James is a much better actor that I gave him credit for—his little sermon on Cleveland’s many perks made me smile. Sadly, though, Trainwreck derails once the romance develops and Amy gets more sober—the ending is happy, neat, and too cute. Gag.
Bloodsucking Bastards exceeded my expectations—which admittedly were not high. A weird sort of mix of Office Space and Office Killer with Twilight and Dead Alive, it was stupid, sophomoric, gory fun. The plot– the head of a failing sales department hires a vampire to improve productivity– could have moved faster, but the acting was surprisingly good. Both Joey Kern (Tim) and Fran Kranz (Evan) were highlights.
Probably the most “independent” film I’ve seen all year, Bloodsucking Bastards thankfully did not aim to be more than it is. Bravo!
Fandango’s short and sweet synopsis says all you need to know about the plot here: “Lost in a forest, a 10-year-old girl meets animals, ghosts, and weird creatures.” Weird, indeed. A twisted story with some grotesque imagery sure to stay with me forever, like Chihiro’s parents turning into pigs, that bizarre nose and wart on Yubaba, the coal-toting soot things, the stink ghost, and No Face. Charming in the way that only Japanimation is, I enjoyed this one, to a point. It lost me about two thirds in, and reminded me why I am not into epic fantasies or science fiction.
Hayao Miyazaki tells a good story and gives us really strong characters in Spirited Away, but I don’t need to see it again. Ever.
A slice from the life of feisty millionaire fabric lady, NYC socialite, and longtime fashion maven Iris Apfel and her century-old husband, Carl. Crammed with quips and witticisms, observations, and tips on life and fashion, Iris is a much sunnier endeavor than the Maysles’ better-known Grey Gardens. Those bangles, baubles, and beads, oy!
I found Iris the person entertaining and mostly dead-on with her observations about life, but slightly annoying. She shares a birthday with Aaron, Michael Jackson, and John McCain, if that says anything. In any event, she was fun to watch, but Iris ended just before I couldn’t stomach any more.
Jake Gyllenhaal plays Lou Bloom, a creepy robot-like unemployed thirty-nothing scamming for any work he can get. He quickly discovers he is good at “nightcrawling”—trolling L.A. for accidents and deaths that he can record and sell to a sensationalist local news station.
Like Taxi Driver, Dan Gilroy’s Nightcrawler paints a scathingly dim picture of urban American life with broad strokes of emotional and moral vacancy. It’s an interesting idea and boasts decent performances, but it moves too slowly too often. Perhaps it was intentional, but something about the look rings hollow and low budget. It didn’t leave a strong impression on me, but I can see Nightcrawler as a late night TV staple for generations to come.
Barbra Streisand classic: ugly duckling Fanny Brice (Streisand) makes her way to the top via the stage. In the process, she meets a hot mystery man (Omar Sharif) who is not what he seems. A lengthy Technicolor melodrama in some ways was ahead of its time.
Despite its merits, I got bored: Funny Girl is long, winding, and corny. Plus, Babs gets on my nerves after about an hour and a half. I’ll stick with Madge—her movies suck, but she’s more fun and has more bite.
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