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My video store screens films from time to time. $5 donation. Feels good to support local business and see movies I probably wouldn't think to rent. I'd heard of this one when it came out because my friend loved it, but I'd forgotten about it until I heard about this screening.

An uber-indie slice of life concerning the Hollywood star machine - specifically the world of the high-powered agent. Danny Huston, who's always remarkable, plays Ivan, agent to the biggest actor alive (a spot-on, hilarious Peter Weller). Ivan has terminal cancer and can't bring himself to tell one soul about it. He's dead at the start, and everyone assumes it's drugs. As the film unravels, we see why that assumption is fair. Parties, gala premieres, car crashes, casual sex; there's debauchery in every corner of this life, but the sheer honesty of the the film leaves room for compassion toward Ivan, if not his "friends." In the end it comes across like a non-satirical version of The Player. The filmmaking is impressive, too. All shot in cheap digital, but not held back by that - the visual and audio tricks are engrossing and necessary. I'm glad we peeled ourselves off the couch Friday night to see it.

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Martin / George A. Romero / 1977

 

Martin appears to be a quiet, introspective twentysomething, but in the opening scene, set on a train, we watch him drug a woman and drink her blood. He's traveling to stay with his cousin, a devout Catholic who is convinced Martin is another in the family's long line of vampires. This is a genuinely original bloodsucker movie, one in which Hollywood conventions are downplayed--Martin is only slightly annoyed by sunlight, and sleeps in a regular bed. Most interesting, though, is the dual psychological doubt: Is Martin simply mentally ill? Is his cousin simply driven by religious delusion?

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I liked the first 20 minutes or so of Planet Terror, but then I grew weary... the experience as a whole never lived up to the highs of a few select fragments or gags. The problem I have with Rodriguez is that while he has boundless enthusiasm for the nuts-and-bolts of filmmaking, he's just not a very strong storyteller. All of Planet Terror is told at precisely the same pitch, and for me that grew repetitive. The fact that he's reviving old junk tropes doesn't forgive it, either, especially in light of how Tarantino, by contrast, skillfully avoided the pitfall of producing juvenile crap when paying homage to juvenile crap. In fact, I was thankful to need a restroom break near the end of Planet Terror; I was happy to kill a few minutes while waiting for Tarantino's segment to arrive.

 

I really enjoyed the oddball structure of Death Proof. The opening stretch is, perhaps, a bit demanding, but there are many admirable things going on during it. The conversation is perfectly calibrated and acted; while I never liked those girls, I believed in them as individuals and enjoyed watching the characterizations. Plus, the opening stretch is loaded with fantastic ideas and imagery. Remember when Poitier dances to the jukebox and finally, at the end of an unnaturally long take, spins her hair for the amusement of everyone else in the bar? The way that scene was done, in terms of tone, composition, speed, and affection for human movement, reminded me of the dancing scene in Band of Outsiders. (I know it's cliche to compare Tarantino to Godard, but I can't help it... that's what I thought of while watching.) Once the first killings occur, the movie becomes an inspired mashup of the slasher and gearhead genres, and I was hooked. I especially enjoyed hanging out with the second group of girls. And of course the centerpiece stunt is riveting; it captures a very real sense of speed and physical vulnerability and probably ranks among the best stunt scenes I've ever seen. Plus, for my money, Tarantino's revenge punchline is far wittier than anything in Planet Terror.

Only have a minute to throw some thoughts down, but you totally hit the nail on the head here, I think. I was a bit disappointed in Planet Terror, though maybe "disappointed" is the wrong term seeing as I've never really been too incredibly fond of a Rodriguez flick, save the first segment (the Mickey Rourke bit) of Sin City. But it was still good fun.

I really, really enjoyed Death Proof, though. I loved the dialogue, which was typical Tarantino. It kind of felt like Tarantino was using the vehicle of the girls-in-distress flick/slasher film to riff on Tarantino films themselves, in a way. If that makes any sense. Especially in the scene where the second group of girls are sitting around the table talking it up while we get a fantastic rotating 360 degree tracking shot that really seems to echo the beginning of Reservoir Dogs ... but with chicks. I also got a kick out of the odd structure of Death Proof, which can be seen as either two films in one or as one story with a terrific fake-out, false start that leaves you untrusting of the filmmaker and where he's taking us. Also, the crash mid way through was horrifying but wonderfully staged. And the stunt scene at the end is with very few equals. And...I always really enjoy when Tarantino lets a shot linger quite a few beats longer than almost any other filmmaker out there would. It serves to lull you into the moment/story in a really powerful way. Oh, and Kurt breaking down the fourth wall was awesome. I laughed out loud. Gotta run....

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martin1.jpg

 

Martin / George A. Romero / 1977

 

Martin appears to be a quiet, introspective twentysomething, but in the opening scene, set on a train, we watch him drug a woman and drink her blood. He's traveling to stay with his cousin, a devout Catholic who is convinced Martin is another in the family's long line of vampires. This is a genuinely original bloodsucker movie, one in which Hollywood conventions are downplayed--Martin is only slightly annoyed by sunlight, and sleeps in a regular bed. Most interesting, though, is the dual psychological doubt: Is Martin simply mentally ill? Is his cousin simply driven by religious delusion?

 

Great film. This, and The Crazies, certainly show that Romero was far more than a one trick pony when it came to film making in the 1970s. Shame that the American movie industry has changed so much since then that it's probably unlikely he (nor others) will ever have a chance to make work like this ever again.

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Three terrific movies this weekend:

 

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Pickpocket / Robert Bresson / France / 1959

Boudu Saved From Drowning / Jean Renoir / France / 1932

Hot Fuzz / Edgar Wright / UK / 2007

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I'm not even a casual fan of Metallica, but I still found this documentary about a band on the verge of collapse to be extraordinary. There's something surreal about seeing these metal icons entering group therapy and embracing the methodology of their mild-mannered Dr. Phil, but, perhaps because all three members are thoughtful, reflective, and articulate, the movie never becomes a cartoonish, real-life version of Spinal Tap. Instead, it's about the difficulty of sustaining relationships after 20 years, making art and maintaining integrity, trying to stay enthusiastic and relevant at the age of 40, setting positive priorities in life, and slipping lyrics to the band when you're supposed to just be their analyst. Very entertaining stuff (even though I had to turn it down when the songs kicked in).

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I'm just going to say, while it was entertaining and had a few cool action sequences...Spiderman 3 was a huge dissapointment. There was at least 45 minutes of useless pap stuck in there that could have been cut out and would have improved the flick ten-fold. It also amped up the goofiness to a disturbing level in what had the potential to be a very dark and interesting storyline based around jealousy and revenge.

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I'm not even a casual fan of Metallica, but I still found this documentary about a band on the verge of collapse to be extraordinary. There's something surreal about seeing these metal icons entering group therapy and embracing the methodology of their mild-mannered Dr. Phil, but, perhaps because all three members are thoughtful, reflective, and articulate, the movie never becomes a cartoonish, real-life version of Spinal Tap. Instead, it's about the difficulty of sustaining relationships after 20 years, making art and maintaining integrity, trying to stay enthusiastic and relevant at the age of 40, setting positive priorities in life, and slipping lyrics to the band when you're supposed to just be their analyst. Very entertaining stuff (even though I had to turn it down when the songs kicked in).

 

There is also a book about that film.

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Day Night Day Night, Director: Julia Loktev

 

I caught this yesterday. It was a frustrating, but powerful and worthwhile "indie film" about a 19 year old girl and her preparation for a suicide bombing in Times Square. Frightening stuff. I wrote a little review on my half-assed blog if anyone's interested.

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We finally watched both of the Kill Bill films this weekend.

 

Somebody remind me why so many people didn't like these? We thought they were awesome. :yes

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The first installment of 'Kill Bill' was phenomenal and definitely on par w/ his best work...the second was good, but a little slow in parts for me.

 

I watched 'Boogie Nights' over the weekend on IFC and forgot how fucking awesome of a flick that was AND how much I love Nina Hartley. I also watched the 'Lost in Space' movie that came out in the mid-90's on cable as well and found it boring, but visually stunning.

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I'm not sure if this is the best argument I've heard against public health care or the best I've heard for it. Either way, it's a great film.

 

edit - though there are humorous parts, this is NOT a comedy

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I'm not sure if this is the best argument I've heard against public health care or the best I've heard for it. Either way, it's a great film.

Yeah, that's a good one. For those who haven't seen it, we accompany an ailing, aging widower as he travels between four Bucharest hospitals that refuse to seriously regard his claims of head and stomach pains, mostly because those complaints are drenched in the smell of alcohol. His full name is Dante Remus Lazarescu, and that moniker, pregnant with not one but three symbolic meanings, suggests a grim odyssey top-heavy with self-importance, but quite the reverse is true: While the movie does swing for the fences in its hellish, sometimes funny indictment of inefficient medical systems, its strength derives instead from its matter-of-fact smallness. There

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