Out of Focus

CMJ: IT'S NOT JUST MUSIC, YOU KNOW

As throngs of musicians check-in at Lincoln Center and downtown music fans start planning the best way to hit five venues a night through Saturday and survive on only a few hours sleep, it's important for this space to make note of that other, smaller, but no less fun part of the CMJ Music Marathon, namely the CMJ Film Fest. The Film Fest regularly does its best to present a combination of music-themed films as well as regular motion pictures that, for lack of a better description, would be most appreciated by the CMJ audience. I have to say, that while they always seem to get a few decent titles here or there, the program of screenings this year seems, better than ever, to truly satisfy that goal.

This year's Film Fest program kicks-off tonight with what must be the most anticipated comedy of the fall: Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan, Sacha Baron Cohen's big screen transformation of his hysterically politically incorrect Kazakhstanian "journalist." The film received raves at the Toronto Film Festival, and people who've seen it have told me that it's not just brilliantly funny, but also quite tasteless. Sure you can wait until Friday when it opens nationwide, but Borat himself will be on hand at tonight's Film Fest screening.

If there is a second most anticipated comedy of the fall, it's probably Tenacious D in "The Pick of Destiny", with Jack Black and Kyle Gass teaming up as their legendary greatest rock band in the world to create, finally, "the greatest motion picture of all time." (Screens on Friday at 12 PM at the DGA Theater on 57th Street between 6th and 7th Avenues.)

Other big name studio films getting advance screenings at Film Fest are Reno 911! Miami, in which the cops from the Comedy Central TV series must save the day at a Miami police convention threatened by a terrorist attack (let's call it, Police Academy for the 21st Century); Stranger Than Fiction (screens Thursday at 5:30 PM at Tribeca Cinemas), which looks fantastic in a Charlie Kaufman/Spike Jonze sort of way but unfortunately is directed by Marc Forster; and Darren Aronofsky's long-awaited Fountain of Youth sci-fi drama, The Fountain (Thursday at 4 PM at the Walter Reade).

Music fans get some direct concert and documentary footage in two titles both showing on Saturday at the DGA Theater. At noon is Okonokos, a movie featuring the band My Morning Jacket live. As great as My Morning Jacket is recorded, the buzz has always been that they're an even better live band, and this film finally gives the rest of a chance to see. Following at 2 PM will be Oasis -- Lord Don't Slow Me Down, a documentary which follows Oasis on its seven month "Don't Believe the Truth" tour. After the screening, Noel Gallagher will be on hand for a Q&A session moderated by Matt Pinfield.

And then come the rest ... a nice selection of more indie-minded fare and special programs including Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (Thursday at 1 PM at the Walter Reade), a cool looking thriller from the director of Run Lola Run and Fuck (screening tomorrow at 3:15 PM at the Walter Reade), Steve Anderson's documentary exploring all the meanings, connotations and usage of yours and my favorite word.

One special video-related program of interest takes place at MoMA on Thursday and Friday: Chuck Statler: Before MTV will feature a collection of clips in a retrospective of the innovative music oriented filmmaker's work. At the 8 PM screening on Thursday, Statler will be in attendance for a discussion and q&a session as well.

Film Fest has always flown a bit under the radar at CMJ. It's easy, no matter what the titles are, to be overshadowed by, as the Music Marathon boasts, 120 non-stop hours of music. If you have a CMJ badge, attendance is easy ... show up (maybe a little early), and you get in. This year for the first time, CMJ also sold a badge at a discounted rate for Film Fest events only -- $50 for unlimited attendance; $25 for five screenings. These passes can be purchased at CMJ Registration at Lincoln Center starting today. Individual tickets may be available at the venue box offices before the screening.

ON THIS DATE IN (AARON) HISTORY

It was 10 years ago today that yours truly moved to New York.

Well, sort of.

Have I told this story before? I don't know ... I'm now old and senile ... or at least 35 and senile. Depending on your perspective, you can choose which phrase to go with. All I know is that the past decade has flown by while taking forever. The events leading to and involving my move seem like they were just yesterday while also feeling like a lifetime ago. These contradictions make perfect sense, however, because my move to New York was something that took a long time to happen very quickly.

At the beginning of 1994, I was 24 years old, two years out of UCLA (sans degree), a bit over seven years into my Los Angeles sentence, a brief career as an entertainment journalist behind me, and working at a small but very reputable talent and literary agency in Beverly Hills. Having never wanted to be an agent, though, and feeling like it was time to move on and get to work in development and production, preferably for a producer or director, I decided it was time to move on. In fact, it was the previous September that I had come to New York and decided that not only did I need to leave L.A., but I had to, at some point in my life, live in New York City.

So I then proceeded to look for a job in New York while living in L.A. But not just any job. Oh, no. I wasn't prepared to come back here and wait tables or work in a bookstore or what have you; I was coming from a good position, and I didn't want to put a halt on my career progress. (A decision that, of course, became someone ironic some years later.) I was only going to come to New York for the right job.

FINALLY PUTTING A CAP ON SEPTEMBER

September was a busy month, and October hasn't been much slower, which is the reason why we're already roughly half-way through and I still haven't published my September movie diary. In fact, I'm quite impressed with myself as it looks like my "unattainable goal" of averaging a film a day is potentially well on its way to possible completion. And somehow, in September I've managed to do it with the start of a new television season, catching-up on older shows that I hadn't yet watched, and not losing too much on my DiVo. Seriously ... it's a bit miraculous ... even if the actual writing on this blog has suffered a wee bit.

I'm well ahead of last year's pace. In 2005, as of the end of September I had watched "only" 163 movies. This year, by the time Sept. 30 rolled around, I was up to 274. And what do you know? Sept. 30 is the 273rd day of the year. I'm even ahead of pace. Meanwhile, I also got through three seasons of Nip/Tuck -- wow did that show take a tremendous leap forward after a mediocre first season to create a brilliant second season; season three was a bit more erratic -- and season one of Battlestar Galactica.

The first 205 titles (January through July) are listed here. August saw 31 additions, as noted here. And after the jump -- 38 titles that ruled my September.

A FEW LAST WORDS BEFORE THE WEEKEND

I remain hopelessly behind in my posting, and again I hope to catch-up a bit this weekend (but no promises). I did attend a press screening of Marie Antoinette this morning: that's right, I sat through it for a second time which was a fascinating experience. I really enjoyed the movie when I first saw it a few weeks ago. I enjoyed it even more this time, although it has a few unfortunate flaws. I also believe, as I continue to speak to people, that it will be unfortunately and unfairly criticized as being not much more than anachronistic eye candy. I was surprised at the depth of detail (and I don't mean in art direction) that I saw in Sofia Coppola's film the second time around. I also found much more to respect in Kirsten Dunst's performance, a genuine surprise since I felt she was one of the film's primary weaknesses the first time around. Marie Antoinette plays tonight and tomorrow at the New York Film Festival, and it opens in theaters next Friday. Before then, I will have a more complete review posted.

I also still have comments to write on several other New York Film Festival selections, particularly Pedro Almodovar's good but slightly disappointing Volver; Hong Sang-soo's wonderful Woman on the Beach; Jafar Panahi's Iranian film Offside; Tian Zhuangzhuang's tedious and just plain dull The Go Master; Marc Recha's painful August Days; Abderrahmane Sissako's well-meaning but nuance-lacking Bamako; Michael Apted's brilliant 49 Up (now playing at the IFC Center); Satoshi Kon's anime Paprika; Otar Iosseliani's peculiar Gardens of Autumn; Manoel de Oliveira's sublime Belle Toujours; Alain Resnais's stagy, talky and just mediocre chamber play Private Fears in Public Places; Barbara Albert's dreary cliché-ridden Falling; Johnnie To's intriguing Triad Election; and Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul's gorgeous Syndromes and a Century. Plus, there's still more to say on Alberto Lattuada's 1962 satire Mafiaso. (Whew … I saw that many movies the last few weeks? And still missed three or four I think? No wonder I'm tired.) I did write about Little Children, which happens to open in theaters today.

And yet, tomorrow at Noon is another festival highlight: Lino Bracka's 1976 Filipino drama Insiang. If you love Fassbinder but have never heard of Bracka, you should check out Insiang. The film has a very similar feel both in its storytelling and style. Bracka presents a Philippines that is (or was) clearly a male dominated society even though the women do all the work. The trials of the young woman Insiang, having to fight against the neighborhood men, her mother and her mother's younger lover, are agonizing to watch, and when the film culminates by becoming not much more than a revenge drama, the ultimate revelation is that no matter how good you are or hard you try, breaking out of the society's chains – wherever you are – is a feat that not even the strongest willed and most honorable can always accomplish. Insiang is a powerful film, and the opportunity to see it on a big screen at Alice Tully Hall should not be missed.

Meanwhile … tons of new releases this weekend about which I also have to write. The latest version of Truman Capote writing In Cold Blood arrives: I really wanted to like Infamous in order to further help illustrate why last year's Capote is so flawed. Unfortunately, writer-director Douglas McGrath had other ideas and has created a film that does some things much better and others far worse.

Also opening today at the IFC Center is Tideland. Oh Terry Gilliam, where has your talent gone? Why is it that better films can be made documenting the failure of you to make a film than what you've produced recently. If you were just trying to prove that The Brothers Grimm is in fact watchable by giving us this which is not …. I left the screening of Tideland and rushed right out to buy the Mitch Cullin's novel upon which the film is based. Could the book be as painful as this movie? I'll let you know one of these days.

And then there's still The Departed. Ah how I love that movie. Worship it even. I will hopefully find a time to pray in front of its flickering images again this weekend as I have not been back for that second viewing. If you have not yet seen Martin Scorsese's return to true genius, please visit it before taking stock in Robin Williams or more Americanized Japanese sequel remakes.

NY FILM FESTIVAL: THE HOST -- MUCH MORE THAN JUST A MONSTER MOVIE

(This post began as a continuation of the previous one, hence the oh-so-eloquent flow, or rather, the reference to something not included in this same entry.)

It shouldn’t actually come as much of a surprise that the best film so far critiquing the current state of the world and particularly our country’s involvement in the Middle East has nothing to do with Iraq, Iran, Lebanon, Syria, Israel or the Palestinians and is not directed by some American left-wing liberal. In fact, part of the reason that The Host (which screened last weekend and Magnolia Pictures will distribute some time later this year) is such a good analysis of this international state of affairs is because while not being subtle in the least, the film's story and soul focuses not on some larger incident but rather on the experiences and reactions of one family at the heart of it all.

In this way, The Host is quite similar to Pan's Labyrinth. In addition to creating an emotional and humanistic tale at the center of a politically themed argument, Bong Joon-ho's film also places a young girl at the center, in a hero's role, trying to fight tremendous forces that are actually beyond her or anyone's control. But shared on an even deeper and more thematic level is this statement of not blindly following authority, of thoughtfulness, of questioning everything, even those things that scare us, particularly in the form of a government.

The Host begins in a South Korean lab where an American military scientist orders his Korean assistant to pour a ridiculously large amount of toxic chemicals down the drain in the sink simply because the bottles are dusty. The assistant argues that this drain leads to the Han River, a major tributary running through the center of Seoul, but his boss doesn't care, and down the drain the bottles go. Two years later, a couple locals fishing in the Han see a small creature unlike any fish they've ever seen. They catch it, but when it scares them, it escapes. Four years later, we meet the Park family – patriach and food kiosk owner Hie-bong (Byeon Hie-bong), his lazy, slacker son Gang-du (Song Kang-ho), and Gang-du's smart, older-than-her-years daughter Hyun-seo (Ko A-sung). While people are enjoying a sunny Seoul day outside, the Parks watch Gang-du's sister Nam-joo (Bae Doo-na) compete on TV – she's a champion archer. The pleasant day is interrupted, however, when people start to eye something weird hanging from a bridge and then diving into the water. This something winds up being a mutated monster which can also hop up on land, swatting people around and eating them at will. When Gang-du carelessly loses his daughter in the chaos, he sees that the monster has capture her, and with the help of his family -- which also includes college graduate and alcoholic Nam-il (Park Hae-il) – he's determined to get her back.

NY FILM FESTIVAL: PAN'S LABYRINTH -- MAGICAL REALISM MIXED WITH RATIONAL FANTASY FOR A MAGNIFICENT CONCOCTION AND ONE OF THE BEST FILMS OF THE YEAR

(This post began as a continuation of the previous one, hence the oh-so-eloquent flow, or rather, the reference to something not included in this same entry.)

Even as difficult as it is for me to say that I liked or disliked Inland Empire, it is quite simple for me to shout hosannas expressing my immense love for and awe in both Korean director Bong Joon-ho's phenomenal The Host and Guillermo del Toro's post-Spanish Civil War fantasy fable Pan's Labyrinth, which screens this Sunday evening as the NYFF's closing night film and Picturehouse will release in theaters on Dec. 29. Del Toro is best known to American audiences as the man behind Hellboy and Blade II. I didn't love either of those, but at least they helped me forget the god-awful Mimic. None of those films, however, prepared me for his much smaller but more emotional and interesting The Devil's Backbone, which I only finally saw recently. And yet, none of his work at all has come close to the major achievement of Pan's Labyrinth.

Told through the eyes of 11 year old Ofelia (Ivana Baquero), del Toro's film puts a gleam in the eye while touching the soul. Although the story takes place against the backdrop of a very specific period of history -- near the end of World War II as Spanish revolutionaries continue to try to fight against Franco's fascist regime even though the Spanish Civil War "officially" ended five years earlier -- the themes themselves are universal. Innocence and thoughtful disobedience are the subjects with which del Toro concerns himself and us, and he does so by taking us into a world (or multiple worlds, in fact) that are simultaneously enchanting and horrific, exciting and monstrous. Not unlike Lynch's fluid shiftings of realities, Pan's Labyrinth presents us with a real world and a fantastic one only seen and experienced by Ofelia. As the story continues, these two realms begin to intersect more and more, but even when they converge completely for Ofelia in the end, they still remain separate for the rest of us.

NY FILM FESTIVAL: INLAND EMPIRE -- THIS IS YOUR BRAIN ON DAVID LYNCH

I still don't believe I can write much about David Lynch's Inland Empire, a nearly three-hour long smorgasbord of image and sound that to the linear-minded will prove completely incomprehensible. Any semblance of conventional storytelling or character development has been thrown not just out the window, but from the 90th story of a really tall building, bouncing off the street before being run over by a truck, dragged to the river, flung into the water, getting caught on some sort of mutated toxic life form before being ripped apart by an even larger sea monster. And yet, as Lynch delves deeper into his recent thematic exploration of shifting realities and uncertain identities, all housed within the metaphorical image of infinite reflection represented by his repeated settings of films within films within "normal" life within films, the "wha????" experienced from watching Inland Empire is far less one of confusion than fascination. Layered on top of these ideas he's been exploring as far back as in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me and continuing through Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive, Inland Empire turns Lynch's eye inward, playing even more with these shifts while also specifically exploring and referencing the journey Lynch himself has taken to arrive at this point in his career. More than any other film that comes to mind in recent history, Inland Empire deserves and requires multiple viewings before any true and valid opinion regarding its artistry, form and content can even begin to be explored. A rush to call Inward Empire either a masterpiece or a disaster is quite impossible, regardless of the enjoyment or suffering one experiences during a first viewing. Its lengthy run time is both a blessing and a curse. I am one of the most time-sensitive film viewers I know, and yet I've seen plenty of 100 minute films that felt much longer than Lynch's near three hours. The run time is necessary: Lynch needs to keep his audience captive for this extended period to even begin the process of letting his work seep in; but on the other hand, when bombarded with so much information over such a long period of time, is it even possible to accept and retain it all?

I hope I have the chance to see Inland Empire again, maybe more than once. As of last week's screenings, there was still not a distributor for the film, however during a press conference when asked if the film had distribution, Lynch responded, "Technically, no." Since then I've read it would be Magnolia Pictures and then that it wouldn't be Magnolia but rather Lynch would distribute it on its own. But if anybody out there is currently working on a Cinema Studies Ph.D and needs a dissertation project that could probably sell as a book deal, I'd get going on rewatching the entire Lynch canon and settling in for multiple viewings of Inland Empire. Now there's a book I'd pre-order.

PLAYING CATCH-UP WITH NYFF: THREE FILMS THAT EXEMPLIFY THE ART AND "MAKING" IN FILMMAKING

(This post began as one entry containing three reviews, but as each section became longer, I decided to split it up into separate posts. So let's just call this the introduction, shall we?)

As the New York Film Festival pulls into its final weekend, it becomes a good time for both anticipation and reflection. More reviews and recaps will be coming in the next few days -- I've had some difficulty finding time to write recently -- but my overall impressions have been quite positive for this year's collection of films. Not too many disappointments but several titles which proved to be surprises (at least to me) and far better than expected. In fact, I would be surprised if somewhere between three and five of my Best of 2006 titles did not come out of movies seen at the 44th New York Film Festival.

The best thing about several of this year's selections, however, has been the representation of not just film as entertainment or art but rather filmmaking as craft. With all the complaints many have had regarding the inclusion of some titles and exclusion of others, three films in particular have a lot in common in what may be the most important area possible: they are examples of consummate filmmaking. Two of them -- The Host and Closing Night selection Pan's Labyrinth -- are more high concept entertainment than anything you'll ever see from Hollywood: near perfection in storytelling, use of every visual and audible aspect of cinema, thematic representation, building on film history and political statements that may not be subtle but won't drop anvils on your skull neither.

The third film is the most difficult to discuss, one that, like its filmmaker, has already been heavily debated. In fact, I can't really write anything like a straightforward review of David Lynch's Inland Empire. I didn't like it; I didn't dislike it; and I'm anything but indifferent. I have nothing to say and much to say, all simultaneously, and in its own way, that statement itself might be the perfect review of this film. Even so, here are some more expansive thoughts, albeit, not necessarily a review nor a critique.

(For more: Inland Empire; Pan's Labyrinth; The Host)

THE WEEKEND AHEAD: MUST-SEE DEPARTED, LIFE EXPERIENCE WITH 49 UP AND MORE NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL

More detailed reviews will be coming later today and this weekend, but in the limited amount of time I have before another day of multiple press screenings, I couldn't let this weekend arrive without taking note of the multitude of riches available to filmgoers this weekend.

The major release today is the latest film from Martin Scorsese. I've never made any secret of my near worship of the man I consider to be the greatest living and working American director, but I've also tried to be honest about his most recent work. His last truly magnificent film came well-over a decade ago with Goodfellas. I found both The Aviator and Gangs of New York to be perfectly fine films, maybe even pictures that would have won a lesser filmmaker an Oscar (like, say, if they had been the first film from someone like, I don't know, Kevin Costner?), but as Scorsese films they were very middle-of-the-road, and maybe not even that good.

The Departed, however, is a breathtaking and startling return to greatness. Not that Scorsese ever left, but with this film, he's back doing everything he's done before, but with a twist. It's definitely his best film since Goodfellas, and it ranks up there among (or at least, right behind) the top tier of his work overall. I will have lots more to say on this soon.

Meanwhile, last night at the New York Film Festival, the seventh and latest film in Michael Apted's "Up Series", 49 Up. Apted has been reuniting with the same group of subjects for the past 42 years, documenting their lives. You don't need to have seen any of the previous films to get a lot out of 49 Up -- the nature of the work is to juxtapose the lives of the subjects now with where they have been over the years, so clips appear from each of the previous films. 49 Up is magnificent and fascinating, the best film in the series and a truly remarkable continuation (if not potential conclusion, should that unfortunately turn out to be the case) to the entire series. After its screening last night, it opens for a run today at the IFC Center. Just go.

And finally, this weekend, aside from marking the midway point of the New York Film Festival happens to contain screenings of films that are certainly among the best playing at this year's Lincoln Center soiree. Sure, there's Volver, the latest from the great Almodovar, but in reality, that film is not one of the highlights. Rather, two films from different parts of Southeast Asia highlight the weekend. They have little in common other than the fact that they are potentially the two best movies at this year's entire event. Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul's meditative and beautiful Syndromes of a Century plays tomorrow night for one screening only at 6:15 PM.

The other not-to-be-missed selection is The Host from South Korea's Bong Joon-ho. The Host is one of the most creative, intelligent and political films you'll see all year. It's also a family drama and ... a monster movie. It is a remarkable work from an extremely talented filmmaker. Magnolia Pictures will be releasing the film in theaters this year, but The Host is one to rush out to see, so if you have a chance (and a ticket) to get to Lincoln Center this weekend, you should. (The Host is also screening at the now-running Mill Valley and Chicago Film Festivals.)

Offside and Paprika are also worth seeing, although the latter will certainly be an acquired taste, but the latest from French master Alain Resnais, Private Fears in Public Places is a mediocre and maudlin relationship drama that has more working against it than in its favor.

Little Children (my review here) also opens nationwide today, but with all these other choices available, Todd Field's new film really seems like the smallest child of the lot.

More to come today and this weekend ...

SHORTBUS: HOP ON BOARD FOR A MOVING AND EMOTIONAL RIDE (YES, "RIDE" ... I KNOW)

"Shocking" is one word that will likely appear time and again as people describe and critique Shortbus, the new film from John Cameron Mitchell, who after creating a smash Off-Broadway musical hit with Hedwig and the Angry Inch, reinvented the show for a virtually flawless film adaptation as his movie-making debut. With Shortbus, Mitchell decides to push the envelope even further than taking a German transsexual's cabaret rock show and turning it into a full-fledged film epic, but the only thing that really proves shocking about Shortbus is how relatively successful he has been. Although it has its flaws -- most notably a final sequence that seems to undermine everything that has come before it in the film -- Shortbus is no sophomore slump. Rather, it proves that Mitchell is one of the most creative, daring and innovative filmmakers on the scene today, indie or otherwise.

And no, I don't say this because of his decision to include graphic sex of all varieties -- cum shots included -- into "mainstream" cinema. But unlike last year's failed cinematic erotic experiment conducted my the otherwise ever-so-capable Michael Winterbottom with the ridiculously drab and dull 9 Songs, Mitchell's film flat out works. All we've heard about it for the past couple years has been the graphic sex; so much so that viewers may be underwhelmed by the relative lack of sex in the film. Don't get me wrong -- it's there, and it's there a lot right from the get-go with an opening sequence that cuts between a married couple, a man trying to auto-fellate himself, and a dominatrix in session with her spoiled rich client. But once the in-your-face opening segment is over -- wonderfully setting the emotional tone for all that follows -- all the sex that remains really does become secondary, almost like wallpaper, but not gratuitously so. For Shortbus (not unlike Little Children below) is a generational tale. It's more than simply a slice-of-life for the aging slacker generation, but it is an expose of people in their 20s and 30s, growing-up in an environment and a world where people seem to have lost the ability to truly connect. The physicality is the easy part: anybody can drop their pants, give a blow job or participate in a three way. But not everybody can feel loved, no matter how hard they try.