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Santa Barbara 2: Of hippos and red carpets

Anath White

A foggy morning on the last day of the festival. One more week of movie-going, as Egypt totters and my native Midwest suffers another snowstorm, has caused both guilt and gratitude.

But before I describe what I’ve been experiencing in balmy Santa Barbara, an upfront mea culpa, as earlier I mangled the name of a delightful film and want to correct it here. “Good for Nothing” comes from New Zealand, a spaghetti western with a bit of “Unforgiven” tossed in. Well acted and very scenic, the story centers on an Eastwood-like lone cowboy, who says little, thinks guns are meant for killing and women for — When he kidnaps a young English traveler, rather than dominating her as he evidently intends, she gains control, ultimately humanizing the guy and helping him unfold his hidden heart. A man at the festival suggested that, “as a woman,” I wouldn’t like this film at all – but he was wrong.

A taxi driver goes South

Looking back at the Hollywood blockbuster action films of 2011 when the year was about to end, I found none of them could top the raw realism of the ambitious South Korean thriller “The Yellow Sea” (2010). When I endured “Transformers 3” last summer, I had no excitement at all with its pointless loud action scenes decorated with weightless CGI. In the case of “The Yellow Sea,” real people and real vehicles are put into the action on the screen, and they are far more visceral than those big, humongous CGI robots fighting on the streets of Chicago.

The cinema of scarred hearts

Omer M. Mozaffar

I have a friend who walked out of THERE WILL BE BLOOD during that baptism scene, when Daniel Day-Lewis exclaimed, “I’ve abandoned my child!” My friend was just divorced, lost custody of his children, and was tormented with the remorse that follows these things. As Daniel Day-Lewis shouted, my friend almost needed to cover his ears. He returned to his seat shortly afterwards, but needed that moment to collect himself.

I have another friend who was molested by a family friend. She refuses therapy, but she attributes multiple aspects of her personality, that she herself identifies as disorders – social ineptitude, sexual dysfunction and confusion, chronic despair – to that period of molestation. When she watched MYSTIC RIVER, a movie speaking of the physical and psychological abuse of children and the long term consequences on their hearts and minds, she found herself painfully revisiting those experiences, but not where we might expect.

Serpico, the cop who wouldn’t take money

Pablo Villaça

In contemporary Hollywood, when a young actor becomes successful, he immediately tries to convert fame into power and money, investing his time in formulaic projects that guarantee great results at the box office and, thus, his ascension in the industry. It was not always like this – and we just need to observe Al Pacino’s career to confirm that: after he became a hit with The Godfather, dozens of screenplays fell onto his lap, but he still focused on challenging and complex works in which he struggled against Hollywood’s attempts to turn him into a heartthrob – projects such as A Dog Day Afternoon (in which he robbed a bank to pay for the sex reassignment surgery of his boyfriend, played by Chris Sarandon) and, of course, Serpico.

Suffocation with no redemption

“From where did it go wrong?”, he asks to his friend in agony, but he will not get the answer for that question, and neither will others, because 1) it is already too late to ask that question due to their shattered relationships beyond repair and 2) everyone, including him, is not so willing to give the parts of the answer while not completely understanding their problems much. What they have here is the failure to communicate, and that ultimately results in the irreversible tragedy at the center of melancholic South Korean movie “Bleak Night”(2010).

Hoping for Hope in a Philly Neighborhood

Omer M. Mozaffar

The key strength of David O. Russell’s “Silver Linings Playbook” (2012) is that the acting is so strong that we forget we are watching the movie. In those moments that the plot guides us, it takes us in some directions familiar, some directions frightening, and some directions fun. In a year that has given us a compassionate story about addiction in “Flight,” we also have this equally tender film about mental illness. I want to see this movie again, if at least because it is so happy, even though it did not have to be.

Doo Wop, cool and raw masculinity

There exist in this sometimes sad world, moments that remind you that you are alive.

You know these moments well. Blood rushes from your toes to your cheeks. Or from your cheeks to your toes. Either way you are made aware of its movement.

A great energy is felt in your jaw and in the ends of each strand of hair. Your fingers curl. Your hands turn into fists or claws. Everything is hot. You shudder violently (the energy must be flung off or you will be eaten alive).

Watching the World Slip Away

Omer M. Mozaffar

This prickly film haunts me. I am now older than James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Jimi Hendrix, and Malcolm X. I am at that age where the infinite world of my childhood bedroom is now replaced by a complicated mass of interwoven needs, wants, and concerns. The soundtrack of my youth is a summer of wind blowing through fragile leaves, with katydids buzzing along. The rattling taps of rain on our roof has now given way to the plastic clicking of this keyboard and various other mechanical monsters. Under it all is an ongoing hiss of noise. I also sometimes fall into that trap of looking at today through the telescope of an idealized yesterday; that outlook is a slick valley that is difficult to climb out of and easy to slide back into. Jack Nicholson in Sean Penn‘s”The Pledge” (2001) is likewise watching the world change. More than that, he is watching his world slip away from him.

A lifetime in five minutes

Omer M. Mozaffar

Streaming free on Amazon Prime.

When I watch Roger Donaldson’s “The World’s Fastest Indian,” (2005) it makes my day. Burt Munro (Anthony Hopkins) is a contented New Zealand eccentric tinkering with a motorcycle that he dreams of racing in the Bonneville Salt Flats. It’s the story of a man trying to be the fastest motorcyclist in history. He has had the fortitude to fiddle with his bike for over 40 years until it is finally ready. Forty years. More than that, it’s a true story about a square peg poking his way through a world of circles and triangles, discovering all the different Americas. It’s a romantic comedy, for monks. Like me.

Third Star

Jana Monji

I clearly remember the first day of our only family vacation while my father was alive. My father was wearing a dapper boater “Can Can” straw hat, but the window was left too far down and it soon swooshed off my father’s head and was gaily rolling down the highway. On that particular day, he knew he was dying and that is the reason for our journey. I thought of my father while watching “Third Star,” a touching independent movie about four male friends taking a journey to a remote Welsh beach. The film’s narrator, James (Benedict Cumberbatch), has an unnamed terminal cancer. My father didn’t die of cancer, but he was bit of a dandy and always wore a hat, usually one more like the fedora Cumberbatch’s James sports at times in this movie.

The many kinds of blindness

Omer M. Mozaffar

After exploring the mother-daughter relationship and social issues in “Precious: Based on the Novel “Push” by Sapphire,” I decided to visit the father-son relationship and comparable issues in “The Color of Paradise.”

Majid Majidi’s work is one my favorite movies. It is a movie I enjoy from start to finish. Every time I watch it I discover new dimensions. Still, I don’t know if it is depressingly sad or filled with hope and happiness.

Confessions of an Unrepentant War Profiteer

Omer M. Mozaffar

I’ve seen scenes in this movie multiple times in multiple movies, yet I’ve never seen this movie before. Andrew Niccol’s “Lord of War,” is the story of the rise and decline of an arms trafficker (Nicholas Cage) and takes many predictable narrative steps. It is a list of cinematic clichés, from the personalities (even the names) of the characters, to the moments of suspense and surprise, to the preposterous ethnic stereotypes. It contains everything short of a protagonist dangling from a cliff or a racing bus driving through a fruit stand. Further, there is very little character development, very little revelation, and most of the characters are caricatures. Nevertheless, the final product is a thoroughly original, provocative satire that explores a violent decade of global peace and haunts you with an almost silent sinister laugh.

New English-Speaking Patriots

Omer M. Mozaffar

On a personal level, the most surprising aspect of Rashid Ghazi’s new documentary, “Fordson: Faith, Fasting, Football,” is that he managed to keep it a secret and even managed the time to make it. An old friend, he personally funded and directed this portrait of a week in the life of a tightly-knit Detroit community at the beginning of their 2009 school year. A husband, a father, and tireless executive, he kept quiet about the film, even keeping his name off the original publicity. Simply: he did not want to get attacked by rampaging anti-Muslim zealots who seek to fake scandal where there is none.

“Serve the nuts. I mean, serve the guests the nuts”

I will do most anything to avoid thinking. At the hint of strenuous thought I flee. I run like the dickens. I do not want my world to be disrupted. Seventy five percent of my energy is spent repairing a glorious cocoon of comfort.

Inside this shelter there is no overhead lighting, only lamps. There are no cold mornings or metaphysical crises. Everything is as it should be. Every question is easily answered. There you will find me licking my wounds, secretly enjoying the tang of blood and pus. Thankfully, for the health of body and soul, this cocoon is under constant siege. The valiant twenty five percent of life force that remains does all in its power to destroy a sheltering that in reality is more prison than sanctuary. This twenty five percent is Saint George. The cocoon is the terrible dragon. It is death.

As Cocteau said, “comfort kills creativity.” You will find me angrily hissing this to myself all day every day. On good days I heed the wisdom of the French man. On bad ones I refuse.

From the Valley of the Wind

There is a point in Homer’s “The Odyssey” where Odysseus is washed ashore from a shipwreck.A young woman comes to his aid, rescuing him from his end. She was Nausicaa, lover of nature, and eventually serving as a mother of his rebirth. In Hayao Miyazaki’s first masterpiece “Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind” he heralds a protagonist of similar inspiration, whose own odyssey and heroism would take on Homeric proportions. 

The Clothes of Kay Corleone

Pablo Villaça

Every and each year, I take a day to watch The Godfather trilogy back-to-back-to-back. If I manage to do that more than once a year, I feel even better about myself. I’ve been deeply in love with these films since I first discovered them so many years ago – and every time someone asks me what’s my favorite movie (a question that a film critic hears quite often), I never hesitate before answering “The Godfather – all nine hours of it”.

Omer Mozaffar, a Pakistani-Chicagoan, revisits “The Five Deadly Venoms” (1978)

Omer M. Mozaffar

After following the discussions of my review of “Avatar,” I decided to revisit a movie I so thoroughly enjoyed in my younger days. If you have not yet seen it, I hope you soon get the chance to watch “The Five Deadly Venoms,” directed by one of the great Martial Arts directors, Chang Cheh (1978). And, tell me what you think of it.

“The Five Deadly Venoms” has an interesting premise: A teacher has trained a team of five martial arts fighters, each in a specific deadly martial arts style — centipede (striking at high speeds), snake (able to strike while lying on the ground), scorpion (with powerful kicks), lizard (able to scurry along walls), and toad (thick skinned). Which of these five styles most resembles you? I, obviously, am most like the toad.

This movie has now taken on a new life for me, appealing in a different way than in the past.

The call girls who sank a government

Michael Caton-Jones’ 1989 film “Scandal” begins amidst an atmosphere of gaiety and innocence at the start of the 1960s. Bright, resplendent, sparkling visions burst before our eyes. Soon the tones will become darker. “Scandal” chronicles the multi-faceted sex scandal that erupted in the “you’ve never had it so good” British Tory prime minister Harold Macmillan’s conservative government in 1963. 

No Exorcist Can Handle Possession

Michał Oleszczyk

To call it overwrought would be an understatement. Andrzej Żuławski’s 1981 masterpiece, butchered upon its original American release and relegated to spurious video-nasty circulation, is now returning in all its hysterical glory, as a part of Brooklyn’s BAMcinématek complete Żuławski retro, which will then move to Cinefamily in Los Angeles. Featuring what is arguably the bravest female performance ever put on film – namely, Isabelle Adjani’s Cannes-winning turn of shamanistic intensity – the film dares its viewer to enter a trance-like state, in which genres blur and mate to yield a new level of cinematic expression.

Piracy isn’t always that simple

Matt Singer wrote a thoughtful piece against piracy a few days ago here on Criticwire. I read it with great interest. And I believe that he is correct, provided that Piracy fits a certain context. Let me try and provide some background.When I started writing movie reviews, I was living in the Philippines, a third-world country. Movie-going is deeply tied into our entertainment habits. The masses, most of whom are not able to afford most forms of entertainment, at least have theaters we can go to to escape the hardships of reality.