INTERVIEW: STORME WOOD

Paradise Recovered director-producer Storme Wood.

Living in-sink

By Don Simpson

Producer-director Storme Wood’s Paradise Recovered intelligently discusses faith and religious tolerance (and intolerance), critically analyzes abusive and prohibitive religious sects -- all without a tinge of condescension or judgment. Perhaps as a result, Paradise Recovered proves that religious and spiritual people can peacefully co-exist with atheists, agnostics and everyone else as long as there is an open and intelligent discourse. In other words, listening and understanding is significantly more important than attempting to convert others to your beliefs.

Opening in Los Angeles this Friday at the Downtown Independent, we sat down with Wood during the 2010 Austin Film Festival for a discussion about Christianity, religious cults and personal freedom.

JEsther Entertainment: What attracted you to Andie Redwine’s script?
Storme Wood: I tell Andie that when I read her script it seemed like it was tailor-made as the movie I always wanted to try to make. The story seemed small and intimate and could be done in a realistic way; and the fact that it is trying to be honest about the subject matter. Religion is a big deal in the United States; Christianity is a big deal in the United States; so are the people who think that Christians are crazy. It is a well-told story and raises questions; but in the end it is about dialogue and that we are not all that far apart if we are willing to listen to and talk to -- not yell at -- each other.

JE: Did Redwine remain involved throughout the production?
SW: She was heavily involved in the production. We had a very small crew so everyone had to pitch in. As much as possible she was on set with me. I liked to have her at the monitor because she was a great sounding board for whether or not we were getting it right. She has a lot of experience with that subculture of religious groups and the people that have been through that. I don’t have that experience. I have experience with Christianity, but not with those small churches. Andie helped a lot. We would talk about the characters and what they would or wouldn’t do.

JE: Have you been receiving any feedback from audiences about Paradise Recovered?
SW: Resoundingly both [Christians and non-Christians] have responded positively to the film. There have been very few people who have been negative so far. People say critical things -- we certainly did not make the perfect film. I was told that somebody walked out at [one screening] who was offended. I have talked with some very conservative Christians who think it is a good film -- people who do some of the things that Esther’s group does in the film, like homeschooling. Andie and I are not against homeschooling, but some people that are homeschooling...

JE: Some people use homeschooling as a means of repression, to control what information their kids are exposed to.
SW: Yes. So their kids don’t have the opportunity to interact with other kids. Essentially, that is what a cult does -- it is called milieu control. They are trying to control the world in which these people live and what information is getting in or out. You can’t keep the kids from reality forever, so you might as well just be honest. I mean there are things that are not appropriate to tell my kids, but when they ask questions I do try to be as honest as possible about how the world is and what some people think.

JE: Should religious cults be permitted to exist? Is there a way to protect people from these cults?
SW: I am finding out that there is a lot more of this going on that I thought there was. Since we made this film, people have been coming up to us and telling their stories. For example, a director here at [the 2010 Austin Film Festival] told us how he had to burn all of his Star Wars action figures and get rid of his stuffed animals because they were false idols. Another guy was telling us about his friend’s wife who had been forced to marry a guy when she was 13-years old and had three kids with him. People in the faith community give a lot of these churches a pass, thinking “that’s just how they do it.” We have freedom of religion so people can choose to do or believe whatever they want. We don’t understand how people get drawn into some of these groups and it becomes abusive and dangerous and hard for them to escape. Some of it is really horrific stuff, but some of it is not really as obvious. If we were to become more aware of the issues, maybe we could reach out and help the people who want to get out of these groups. We are not going to fight and liberate these people physically, but maybe we can be more aware of what is going on and try to help when and how we can. When people get out of these groups they are scared, they feel isolated and alone, but there are a lot of people who have been through very similar experiences. It would be nice to be able to connect some of those dots for them so they know that they are not alone.

JE: What identifies a religious group as a cult?
SW: Dr. Lifton identifies eight criteria: Milieu Control, Mystical Manipulation, Loading the Language, Doctrine Over Person, The Sacred Science, The Cult of Confession, The Demand for Purity, and The Dispensing of Existence. (Steve Hassan’s www.freedomofmind.com is a good resource for more information.) Experts apply these eight criteria to determine if a religious group is a cult. We conducted some interviews (which will be included on the DVD release of Paradise Recovered) at the Wellspring Retreat and Resource Center which talk about this in greater detail. One thing they noticed is how Andie worked Lifton’s eight criteria into the script. I was all about the story being compelling and entertaining and Andie had woven the eight criteria into the story so that if you know what you are looking for, you can find them.

JE: What is one message that you want to convey with Paradise Recovered?
SW: In many ways, it's about personal freedom. It’s about the freedom to make up one’s own mind. People should have the freedom to learn and be given the tools to make their own choices. Nobody should have their freedom taken away by someone else who wants to tell them what to think. It is about empowering people to be free. There are all kinds of things that can take away our freedom -- addictions, cults, and even some mainstream churches. I mean this in terms of personal freedoms -- not in a “Go Team America!” kind of way -- to think, to love, to experience life and experience each other. One of my ultimate hopes for the film is that it will get people thinking and talking about the issues it raises; that we might move toward a dialogue that would bring people together instead of a fight that tears people down.

FILM NEWS: 2011 FILM INDEPENDENT SPIRIT AWARD NOMINATIONS



2011 Film Independent Spirit Nominee Jennifer Lawrence in Winter's Bone, which received seven 2011 Film Independent Spirit Awards.

Oscar alternatives announced

By John Esther

The thrice winner at last night's Gothan Awards, Winter's Bone leads the way for the Film Independent Awards 2011 with seven nominations, including best picture.

Announced this morning at The London West Hollywood Hotel, by Eva Mendes and Jeremy Renner (star of last year's Hurt Locker), Winter's Bone, along with The Kids Are All Right (five nominations), Black Swan (four nominations), Rabbit Hole (four nominations), 127 Hours (three nominations), and Greenberg (three nominations) will be the major contenders at the 2011 Film Independent Spirit Awards, which will return to Santa Monica -- after staging its 25th anniversary last year downtown -- on February 26, 2011, one day before the Academy Awards.

Held annually the same weekend at the Oscars, the Film Independent Awards embrace if not enhance visibility for some of the best films made in America by American filmmakers. In order to qualify for The Spirit Awards a film must have been made in the United States by an American filmmaker, must have a running time of at least 70 minutes, received a domestic theatrical release of no less than a week, and made for under  $20 million. Films must also be determined to be independent in the judgment of one of the three Film Independent committees determining nominees. Although Film Independent Spirit Awards were originally a more rigid in independence, now studio films may be deemed independent if they meet, shall we say, certain ambiguous criteria.

Best Feature nominations: 127 Hours, Black Swan, Greenberg, The Kids Are Alright, Winter's Bone.

Best Director nominations: Darren Aronofsky, Black Swan; Lisa Cholodenko, The Kids Are All Right; Debra Granik, Winter's Bone; John Cameron Mitchell, Rabbit Hole.

Best Screenplay nominations: Lisa Cholodenko and Stuart Blumberg, The Kids Are All Right; Debra Granik, Anne Rosellini, Winter's Bone; Nicole Holofcener, Please Give; David Lindsay-Abaire, Rabbit Hole.

Best Female Lead nominations: Annette Bening, The Kids Are All Right; Greta Gerwig, Greenberg; Nicole Kidman, Rabbit Hole; Jennifer Lawrence, Winter's Bone; Natalie Portman, Black Swan; Michelle Williams, Blue Valentine.

Best Male Lead nominations: Ronald Bronstein, Daddy Longlegs; Aaron Eckhart, Rabbit Hole; James Franco, 127 Hours; John C. Reilly, Cyrus; Ben Stiller, Greenberg.

Best Supporting Female nominations: Ashley Bell, The Last Exorcism; Dale Dickey, Winter's Bone; Allison Janney, Life During Wartime; Daphne Rubin-Vega, Jack Goes Boating, Naomi Watts, Mother and Child.

Best Supporting Male nominations: John Hawkes, Winter's Bones; Samuel Jackson, Mother and Child; Bill Murray, Get Low; Jack Ortiz, Jack Goes Boating; Mark Ruffalo, The Kids Are All Right.

Best Documentary nominations: Exit Through the Gift Shop; Marwencol; Restrepo; Sweetgrass, Thunder Soul.

Best Cinematography nominations: Adam Kimmel, Never Let Me Go; Matthew Libatique, Black Swan; Jody Lee Lipes, Tiny Furniture; Michael McDonough, Winter's Bone; Harry Savides, Greenberg.

Robert Altman Award (best ensemble): Please, Give.

Best First Feature nominations: Everything Strange and New, Get Low, The Last Exorcism, Night Catches Us, Tiny Furniture.

John Cassavetes Award nominations: Daddy Longlegs, The Exploding Girl, Lbs., Lovers of Hate, Obselidia.

Best First Screenplay nominations: Diane Bell, Obselidia; Lena Dunham, Tiny Furniture; Nik Fackler, Lovely, Still; Robert Glaudini, Jack Goes Boating; Dana Adam Shapiro and Evan M. Wierner, Monogamy.

Best Foreign Film nominations: The King's Speech, Kisses, Mademoiselle Chambon, Of Gods and Men; Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives.

Acura Someone to Watch Award nominations: Mike Ott, Littlerock; Laura Nakadate, The Wolf's Knife; Hossein Keshavarz, Dog Sweat.

Nominations for Piaget Producers Award and Aveeno Stranger Than Fiction were also announced.

THEATER REVIEW: LOHENGRIN



Telramund (James Johnson) and Ben Heppner (Lohengrin) in Lohengrin.

Wagner's woes

By Ed Rampell

L.A. Opera premiered Lohengrin on Nov. 20. No, this is not about Lindsay’s smirk in her mug shots. Rather, it’s another one of Richard Wagner’s works, only this time the opera is performed more conventionally, minus the avant-garde razzmatazz of Achim Freyer’s The Ring of the Nibelungen, which had some opera traditionalists’ panties in a bunch. Like The Ring Cycle Wagner explores a Germanic legend in Lohengrin, based on a medieval myth about a knight in shining armor (at least on one silver-clad leg). The original source saga could be roughly compared to the Sir Lancelot and Guinevere British tales of yore, although Lohengrin, of course, has an Aryan twist.

The production directed by Lydia Steier at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, however, has updated Lohengrin to take place during World War I (after Wagner’s death) in Saxony. In any case, like any good knight, Lohengrin (Canadian tenor Ben Heppner) comes to the rescue of a dazzling damsel in distress, the maidenly Elsa (Finnish soprano Soile Isokoski), who has been accused of a heinous crime. They vow to wed, but on one condition: Elsa must never ask Lohengrin about his family origins, or even his name.

But meet the mezzo -- Dolora Zajick as the scheming Ortrud -- who plays Iago to Elsa’s Othello, stirring the pot of suspicion in a classic case of projection. The U.S.-born mezzo-soprano’s character is married to Friedrich von Telramund (American bass-baritone James Johnson), who is a pretender to the title of “Protector of Brabant” and was originally supposed to marry Elsa, before she fell under a cloud of doubt. All hell breaks loose as Telramund alleges before King Heinrich (Icelandic bass Kristinn Sigmundsson) that Elsa has committed a horrific act, and Lohengrin’s rather magical appearance pits the knight against Telramund.

Wagner’s opera comments on many dimensions, including on true love. One can clearly see that Wagner suffered from unhappy marriages, and Lohengrin’s wedding night scene may be the most epic depiction of coitus interruptus in the entire history of art. Talk about love’s labors lost! The story also explores whether lovers should reveal their true inner selves, who they really are, to their partners; as well as the folly of marrying someone you’ve just met, without getting to know their future spouse first. There may be such a thing as love at first sight, but most of these impulsive marital unions are doomed to failure, as Wagner knew.

Lohengrin also observes the issues of faith versus doubt, paganism versus Christianity, sorcery versus religion, conditional versus unconditional love and miracles. The opera ponders secret societies and utopias, too.

More presciently, Wagner also sheds light on the cult of personality and mob mentality, as well as militarism. At first, the German soldiers wear Pickelhaube helmets with spikes, but by the third act they appear to be wearing Wehrmacht-style headgear like those worn during the Third Reich. The Nazis rather infamously misappropriated Wagner and his music, although the maestro died six years before Adolph Hitler’s birth. Leni Riefenstahl’s 1934 agitprop movie Triumph of the Will, a pseudo-documentary directed by essentially a feature/fiction filmmaker, may consciously or unconsciously incorporate elements of Lohengrin. In addition to the whole hero worship aspect, Triumph of the Will opens with Hitler descending from the skies to the adoring masses below in the gothic town of Nuremburg, just as Lohengrin arrives via a black swan (which, in Triumph of the Will, is der Fuhrer’s airplane).

The L.A. Opera production designed by Dirk Hofacker has its share of special effects not unlike last weekend’s other wizardry work, the latest installment of the Harry Potter franchise. 3-D is much the film vogue nowadays, but by George, Hofacker’s set in this three-act show really is three-dimensional! Hofacker’s bombed out church -- most of the action takes place within or outside of it -- is one of the best sets I’ve ever seen grace the stage of the Dorothy Chandler. And not only is the set solid, but it actually moves, in real time. Take that, Avatar!

Without trying to be insulting, some of the oversized performers also give IMAX a run for its money. Unlike its younger sibling, the cinema, opera cares more about singing ability than it does about the looks of its stars, some of whom wouldn’t exactly be playing romantic leads on the silver screen -- if you catch my drift. The lighting by Mark McCullough, plus the changing skies, with clouds, stars, et al, are likewise glorious. It is not an overstatement to say that L.A. Opera’s sets can be true co-stars, like in Lohengrin.

James Conlon ably conducts the orchestra. Surprisingly, the best piece of music Wagner composed for Lohengrin is the sonorous, stirring, brassy Prelude to Act III, which, for my money rivals "The Ride of the Valkyries" and "Siegfried’s Funeral March" from Gotterdammerung (both in The Ring Cycle) as Wagner’s single greatest piece of music.

Nevertheless, there is enough to delight the eye and ear in Lohengrin to make even the troubled Lindsay Lohan grin.


Lohengrin runs through Dec. 12 at L.A. Opera at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., Downtown Los Angeles. For more information: 213/972-8001; www.laopera.com

FILM REVIEW: TINY FURNITURE

Aura (Lena Dunham) and Charlotte (Jemima Kirke) in Tiny Furniture. 

The little things in life

By Don Simpson

Aura (Lena Dunham) arrives home with a film theory degree and no job prospects. Couched in the Tribeca loft of her mother, Siri (Laurie Simmons), Aura looks on as her 17-year old sister, Nadine (Grace Dunham), prepares to pick which college she will be attending next fall. Siri is a famous photographer (of miniatures -- primarily furniture, hence the title of this film) and it might be said that her two daughters are a wee bit spoiled and selfish.

Even when Aura eventually finds a job -- as an off-hours “hostess” (read: receptionist) for a neighborhood restaurant -- she seems to expect appreciation, or at least acknowledgement, from Siri and Nadine that she is dutifully contributing to the household. Aura does not seem to realize that her measly paycheck is barely a contribution and we never see her even offer to contribute towards the household expenses.

Aura just wants to coast for a while in life, maybe even try to find herself, before jumping into the real world. Choosing a career or moving into an apartment would be too big of a step for her. Aura just couldn’t handle that. Her excuse for staying at her mother’s apartment is that her mother needs her, with Nadine going away to college and all. This is a stressful time for Aura, she just graduated from college and her hippie boyfriend just dumped her (in order to build a shrine in Colorado) and she wants sympathy from someone…anyone. Please feel sorry for Aura. Please!

Then Aura meets Jed (Alex Karpovsky), a semi-famous You Tube celebrity (known for videos in which he quotes Nietzsche while riding a rocking horse), who is visiting NYC to negotiate a deal for a new television series. (Aura also has a presence on You Tube -- an all too revealing, at least according to the viewer comments, video of herself in a bikini standing in a fountain). Aura is obviously smitten, but Jed is a fairly aloof and unreadable kind of guy. One thing we notice is that Jed does seem like the type of guy who is able to get things from women for free -- I think it has something to do with his overwhelming self-confidence. Jed is either truly poor or just a moocher. Nevertheless, Aura invites him to crash at her mother’s place. Essentially, they both get what they need out of the deal: Jed gets a nice and convenient place to crash in Manhattan, with free food to boot; Aura gets some attention, though not the sexual kind that she craves.

Simultaneously, Aura severely crushes on the hot chef, Keith (David Call), at her place of employment. It is obvious Keith sees an opportunity to get in Aura’s pants and maybe that’s all Aura wants from him. Keith’s possessive girlfriend keeps him on a very tight leash, as a result of other sexual trysts, so Aura all but gives up on that action. That is until they get high together and discover the pipe…

It is the very little (tiny) things that make Tiny Furniture something very special: Jed riding the rocking horse; Aura in the fountain; the white cabinets; the pipe scene (which is simultaneously humorous, depressing and pathetic); the communication (or lack thereof) between the characters. With unbridled self-reflexivity, Dunham and her real life mother and sister are essentially playing themselves.

Tiny Furniture could be superficially interpreted as a film about a bunch of privileged, white people complaining about how difficult their lives are, but in true ethnographic style Dunham cleverly withholds any judgments of her own, allowing the viewer to examine the characters’ motives and make decisions on their own.

Dunham has earned some comparisons to Woody Allen for her eagerness in utilizing her personal insecurities for both philosophical and comedic purposes. In other words Tiny Furniture appears to be Dunham’s representation of what it is like to feel unattractive. I suspect that is the primary reason why Dunham won the SXSW 2010 Narrative Feature Film Jury Award and SXSW 2010 Chicken & Egg Emergent Narrative Woman Director Award for Tiny Furniture.

FILM REVIEW: UNDERTOW

Santiago (Manolo Cardona) and Miguel (Cristian Mercado) in Undertow.

Ghostly love

By Don Simpson

Miguel (Cristian Mercado) is a fisherman whose life with his very pregnant wife, Mariela (Tatiana Astengo), seems pretty darn perfect, but there are emotional undertows tugging Miguel down into trouble. The name of that trouble is Santiago (Manolo Cardona), a traveling artist and outsider to this tranquil Peruvian seaside village.

Out of the closet, Santiago is comfortable with his sexuality and would prefer to be ostracized by society rather than hide from it. Miguel is quite closeted and is tied by local traditions -- as we first witness during the burial ceremony for his cousin -- and morals. Nonetheless, Miguel and Santiago share a series of clandestine meetings, getting busy on breathtaking beaches in between quarrels over Miguel's insistence that their relationship remain a deep dark secret.

Then Santiago dies unexpectedly and his spirit is trapped on Earth until his body can be discovered and offered up to God. In other words, Santiago becomes a ghost. Only Miguel can see and communicate with Santiago and this new situation suits Miguel perfectly. Their relationship is now so much easier to conceal but, unfortunately, Santiago is miserable in limbo. Rumors of their relationship crash to the surface and Miguel is forced to choose between saving his marriage (and respect within the community) and giving his lover a proper send off.

Part love story and part ghost story, this tale of magic realism earned director Javier Fuentes-Leon the audience award in the World Cinema Dramatic Competition at Sundance. A delicate examination of attitudes and social mores, Undertow touches on issues of self-hate and betrayal and is a stark reminder of the liberation that being true to your sexuality brings. Undertow brilliantly explores issues of sexual identity and machismo attitudes in a conservative community built on tradition, religion and superstition.

THEATER REVIEW: TALES FROM HOLLYWOOD

Bertolt Brecht (Daniel Zacapa) and Odon von Horvath (Gregory Gifford Giles) in Hooray for Hollywood.

Hooray for this side of Hollywood!

By Ed Rampell

Local theater’s leftward trend continues with the revival of Christopher Hampton’s 1980s play, Tales From Hollywood, which includes: A rendition of the revolutionary anthem "The Internationale"; Jewish-American screenwriter Helen Schwartz (Jennifer Sorenson) who joins the Communist Party USA; actor J.P. Sarro portraying an L.A.-based Soviet diplomat named Lomakhin in a minor part; and in a lead role, Daniel Zacapa as Marxist playwright Bertolt Brecht. The latter is essential for Hollywood’s plot, which is about European – mostly German – artistic refugees from Hitler, who fled the fatherland and wound up in La-La-Land.

(By the way, if you want to catch a whiff of the militaristic mindset they were fleeing, see L.A. Opera’s production of Richard Wagner’s Lohengrin, which is playing through Dec. 12.)

This comedy drama’s émigrés include a rather long-winded, pompous, if anti-fascist, Thomas Mann (Kent Minnault) whose novels include 1924’s The Magic Mountain; his more radical older brother Heinrich Mann (Walter Berry), who wrote the novel that Josef von Sternberg adapted for 1930’s The Blue Angel, which brought stardom to another anti-Nazi German artist, Marlene Dietrich; “Heine’s” wife Nelly Mann (Australian stage and screen actress Ursula Brooks); Salka Viertel (Elizabeth Southard), who was a screenwriter for that other European émigré, Greta Garbo, and hostess of soirees for the Continental exiles; etc.

All of the above dramatis personae were actual historical figures, with probably the exception of Schwartz, who is the girlfriend of the play’s main character, Odon von Horvath (Gregory Gifford Giles). Horvath was another real life personage, although Hampton takes great liberties with him -- dramatic license, and all that. In any case, as Hollywood’s narrator, Horvath plays a role somewhat similar to that of Joel Grey’s emcee in Cabaret, based on the stories by that other Christopher – Isherwood – that deal with related subject matter during at least part of the period Hampton’s play covers.

Hollywood actually goes beyond the 1930s to at least the 1950s, focusing on the interaction between exiled European members of the literati and the movie colony’s studio system. Towards the play’s end the refugees in “the land of the free” confront another form of totalitarianism: The House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) and McCarthyism, during the Hollywood Blacklist.

Much frustration and fun is derived from the clashes between these highly cultured men/women of letters and the vulgarians at the gates who ran the motion picture industry. In a dual role, Sarro also plays the aptly named producer-writer Charles Money, who is probably a composite character. As a studio cheat and chiseler, Sarro reminded me of the comical Wayne Knight, who played Jerry Seinfeld’s nemesis named Newman in that sitcom.

Zacapa steals the show as Brecht, portraying the cigar wielding German playwright with great comic panache as part Karl Marx, part Groucho Marx. The role as played and written is a droll send-up of Brecht and his Theatre of Alienation theatrical techniques. Not only does Brecht succeed in alienating practically everybody with his endless harangues and egotism, but his Brechtian methods provide much grist for the comic mill, as Zacapa appears in various scenes wielding signs stating what is happening onstage. I may be prejudiced because Brecht is my favorite 20th century playwright, but Zacapa’s performance was my favorite in the play. Viva Zacapa!

Brooks is another stand out as Heinrich’s long-suffering, far younger wife. A stranger in a strange land dislocated from her homeland, Nelly yearns for a younger man’s touch and for the Germany Hitler has stolen from her. Like Odon (whom she pursues), Nelly hides a terrible secret the comedy drama eventually reveals.

Overall I thoroughly enjoyed Hampton’s highly literate, droll, insightful Hollywood script. However, I found the transition from comedy to drama to tragedy to sometimes be jumpy. Brecht’s wife, actress Helene Weigel (Niki Blumberg), says and does little, if anything other than appearing in the background. This is a pity because I would have enjoyed learning more about this woman who rocked the theater world as Mother Courage, etc., and she never comes alive onstage in Hollywood. The postwar L.A. production of Brecht’s Galileo starring Charles Laughton as the beleaguered astronomer forced to recant by the church, which was a thinly veiled attack on HUAC (and Stalinism) and quite a cause celebre at the time, is also neglected.

Hampton depicts Brecht’s appearance before HUAC in 1947 around the time the Hollywood Ten also testified. Brecht seemed so cooperative that the congressional committee actually commended him as an example that the Hollywood Ten should emulate. But Hampton does not develop that, nor that Brecht had the last laugh on the HUAC dictators: His “cooperative” testimony merely pulled the wool over their eyes, and immediately after he appeared before Congress, he fled America and wound up in the German Democratic Republic, where he established the famous Berliner Ensemble. (Hampton’s script merely indicates that Brecht returned to Europe – not that he crossed the so-called “iron curtain” into East Germany.)

Poor Brecht: He was one step ahead of Hitler’s invading armies in various European countries, was not especially welcome in the Stalinist Soviet Union during the Hitler-Stalin Pact, left Vladivostok on the last passenger ship out of the USSR before the Nazis invaded Russia, managed to make it to Hollywood, only to eventually have to pack up and flee again from “democratic” America. Good grief! It’s great that Hampton reminds us of these exiles in La-La-Land, and of course the ensemble cast, deftly directed by Michael Peretzian, covers much more than just Brecht and his trials and travails. This play is a lot more than just a bio-play about Brecht. It also has a gloriously sexy nude scene with a thespian wearing only a birthday suit that will make you want to sing "Happy Birthday." No phony blankets or sheets here to cover up the human body. Hampton is one of the few playwrights boldly using the freedom that artists have fought for over the years.

So over all, I sing “Hooray for Tales From Hollywood”!


Tales From Hollywood runs through Dec. 19 at the Odyssey Theatre, 2055 S. Sepulveda Blvd., Los Angeles. For more info: 310/477-2055, ext. 2; www.odysseytheatre.com

FILM REVIEW: KURONEKO

Shige (Kiwako Taichi) in Kuroneko.

Kitty litter

By John Esther

Set in medieval Japan, Kuroneko (Black Cat) opens up with a scene of blunt realism. A gang of samurai come upon a house in the countryside. Without hesitation they drink from the land's water before going straight through the front door and into two unsuspecting women.

For a prolonged amount of time, Yone (Nobuko Otowa) and her daughter-in-law, Shige (Kiwako Taichi), are repeatedly raped before being burnt to death by the samurai.

When the smoke clears a black cat appears. A messenger from beyond.

After telling it like it is for a brief moment, director Kaneto Shindo (Naked Island) spins the harsh realism of the opening scene into a Gothic fantasy where women come back from the dead, take the forms of cat, ghost and women, plus any combination thereof, and wreak vengeance on the their killers.

Sworn to drink the blood of samurai, Shige wanders around Rajomon Gate waiting for a samurai escort to see her home. Yone waits at home with wine. As the two blood sisters lure one violent, drunk samurai after another into the cats' den of death, the whole town seems to know about the murdered samurai, including the powerful yet stupid, Raiko Minamoto (Kei Sato), who cannot figure out how to kill the new assassins in town.

Unfortunately for Yone and Shige, their grandiose plan runs into snag when Yone's son and Shige's husband, Gintoki (Kichiemon Nakamura), returns. Once a simple farm boy, Gintoki is now a mighty samurai whose latest assignment is to kill the demons haunting Rajomon Gate.

What is a bloodthirsty assassin/faithful wife and loving mother to do? Make even a more scary deal with the netherworld.

Originally released in 1968, Kuroneko is currently circulating various Landmark Theatres around the country in a new 35mm print. Occasionally showcasing some interesting visuals -- often with the women or white clothes floating in the air, because of the film's look and feel, it has developed a sort of cult status and will be greeted voraciously by those who like their films politically reactionary. 

When women are raped, beaten and burned to death there are no opportunities whatsoever for them to come back and kill their killers. They decay away into history and it is only the living who can do something about injustice (although murder is final and cannot be undone). To entertain otherwise seems downright insulting to the victims of war who have been raped and killed.

Then there the linking of women to cats. This sexist stereotype may have been kitschy keen in the era of Kuroneko, but it now just comes off as silly, if not exacerbating.

Perhaps on a less serious note, this will not do anything for the reputation of the much-maligned black cat. Absurdly associated with bad luck, black cats are often the last cats adopted out of shelters because of superstitious cultural stereotypes. There are also the ones most likely to be abused.

Artistically justified for its look, plus its references to Japanese Folklore and Noh theater, Kuroneko wants to be a treatise on anti-war and women, but it blunts its attack by entertaining notions of fantastical visions of vengeance. 

If I want to see a great story about a black cat taking down a violent drunk man for the sake of a murdered woman, I will pick up Edgar Allen Poe's The Black Cat. Pluto!

FILM REVIEW: THE NEXT THREE DAYS



Lara (Elizabeth Banks) and John (Russell Crowe) in The Next Three Days.

Law and disorder

By John Esther

Since the law will not free his wife, Lara (Elizabeth Banks), for a murder she did not commit, John (Russell Crowe) decides the only irrational thing to do is break her out of prison and run off to a country with no extradition agreement with the United States. Rationality is not for this world.

As silly as this looks on your computer screen, writer-director-producer Paul Haggis (In the Valley of Elah) manages to make this American adaptation of Fred Cavaye's Pour Elle an engaging film while maintaining enough credence that you may actually believe an English teacher at a community college would take on a little crime syndicate plus post-9/11 national security and come out victorious.

Taking an assured pace -- credit goes to editor Jo Francis -- The Next Three Days maintains a suspenseful pace for a little over two hours, occasionally peppering the anxiety with a little humor that is not so much a relief but rather taps into the occasional absurdity of existence. And the "spinning car" scene may be Haggis' best directed scene of his films hitherto.

Where the film slightly fails is in some of the lesser roles, which amount to little more than a "feel good" conclusion. In particular, Brian Dennehy plays George Brennan, John's unemotional father who finally earns John's respect for doing something borderline suicidal, which rings untrue considering George's demeanor. The same goes for the object of a potential extramarital love interest. On the other hand, John Tucker's portrayal of a guy caught between crossfire and his agonizing demise afterward is rather impressive.

Unlikely to garner any nominations for the Oscar-winning Haggis (Million Dollar Baby; Crash) this time around, The Next Three Days has enough going for it to make it your worthwhile -- certainly when it comes to home viewing.

FILM REVIEW: ME, TOO

Why be normal?



By Don Simpson

At 34 years of age, Daniel (Pablo Pineda) is the first student with Down syndrome to obtain a university degree in Europe. After graduation, Daniel is hired by the Disability Services office of Seville, Spain. It is his first job and just another rung on Daniel’s ladder to normalcy. Daniel almost immediately starts working on the next rung, marriage, after landing the job, falling for a chain-smoking and boozy peroxide blond co-worker named Laura (Lola Dueсas). The question remains, can a “normal” woman fall in love with a man with Down syndrome? Or should Daniel just “Fall in love with women [he] can get”?

Daniel explains at one point during the film that he has advanced beyond most individuals with Down syndrome because his mother (Isabel Garcнa Lorca) started talking to him at a very early age. As Daniel grew older his mother realized that he was actually understanding her and they began having discussions about philosophy, politics, etc. (Daniel's parents are intellectuals who love and trust him implicitly.) Eventually Daniel was assimilated into Seville’s school system and progressed all the way to and through college.

Raised, essentially, as a “normal” person, Daniel is unsure of where his normalcy ends. How assimilated into Spanish society can he possibly become? Is normalcy something that is worth aspiring to? (When Daniel confesses to Laura that he wants to be her boyfriend because she makes him “feel normal," Laura retorts "Why would you want to be normal?") Is Laura, a nymphomaniac who abandoned her family for undisclosed reasons, any more normal than Daniel?

Me, Too also features a very intriguing subplot: a love story between Down syndrome lovers Pedro (Daniel Parejo) and Luisa (Lourdes Naharro). Should they be allowed to date? To marry? Most importantly, should they be allowed to have sex?

It is definitely worth noting that Pineda -- like Daniel -- is the first student with Down syndrome in Europe to obtain a university degree, so he is essentially playing a fictionalized version of himself in Me, Too. Pineda’s heart-wrenching performance as Daniel is nothing short of amazing.

Me, Too turns the popular understanding of Down syndrome on its head. Co-writers and directors Antonio Naharro and Alvaro Pastor effectively question the presumed abnormalcy of people with Down syndrome all the while pondering whether normalcy is all it is cracked up to be. As a society we might be able to root for Daniel’s quest for normalcy, but are we comfortable with the possibility of Daniel becoming more than just friends with Laura? And how does that differ from Pedro and Luisa’s relationship? Is there a line to be drawn? If so, where do we draw it? With a college diploma?

For better or worse, I continuously pondered throughout the course of Me, Too whether or not a film like this could ever be created in Hollywood. Is the United States ready to accept a “normal” Down syndrome lead character? More importantly, how receptive are audiences in the United States going to be to Me, Too? This is a groundbreaking film and I really hope that audiences at least give it a chance.

FILM REVIEW: HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS PART 1

Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1.

The boys and the wand

By Don Simpson

Before I begin, I should clarify that I did not like any of the first six Harry Potter films. I read each book prior to seeing the related film and I felt as though all of the films left out very important material from the books (this was way beyond the films not being as good as the books -- because how could that be possible?); and none of the six films -- except for maybe Alfonso Cuarуn’s Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban -- truly represented the mood of the books. They all felt amazingly incoherent, very light and obnoxiously humorous -- obviously created for the lowest common denominator.

First and foremost, if the audience had not read the books they would be totally lost by the flighty (borderline nonsensical) narratives of the films. I decided to finally test this theory on my own, so for David Yates’ Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 I opted not to read the book prior to watching the movie. The result: my theory has been confirmed. As much as I disliked the first six films, at least I could fill in all of the narrative holes with my knowledge from reading the books. I absolutely hated Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 because I did not know what the hell was going on. (I will definitely read the book before Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 is released.)

Well, okay, I am exaggerating a bit...I had some idea about what was going on. As with the other six films, there is a very simple and shallow narrative that is fairly discernible. These are dark times. Post Dumbledore's death, Voldemort’s (Ralph Fiennes) power has increased to a nearly insurmountable level. Therefore Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe) is in much more danger than usual. The entire world is in danger too! Harry’s (and thus the world’s!) only hope for survival is to destroy Voldemort’s remaining Horcruxes (talismans), but first he has to find them and figure out how to destroy each one.

Oh, and what are the Deathly Hallows you ask? Well, Luna Lovegood’s (Evanna Lynch) father Xenophilius (Rhys Ifans) explains that the mythical Deathly Hallows are three sacred objects: the Resurrection Stone, Elder Wand, and Invisibility Cloak. Harry focuses solely on destroying the Horcruxes, while Voldemort obsesses about finding the Deathly Hallows.

For a majority of the film, the supporting cast is pushed more to the periphery of the narrative than usual and we are stuck following Harry, Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson). Additionally, Deathly Hallows: Part 1 is the first film which is not centered around the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Instead Harry, Ron (Rupert Grint), and Hermione (Emma Watson) spend of the majority of the film camping in random locales (forests, riverbanks and seasides) of a seemingly post-apocalyptic Muggle world just waiting for something to happen. There is a lot of waiting and a lot of petty bickering.

There is one ridiculous scene which is not in the book (or so I have been informed): Harry and Hermione dance together to Nick Cave's "O Children". There is also a cringeworthy scene in which Ron watches Harry and Hermione make out while naked (don’t worry, all of the naughty bits are blurred out). Both scenes seem like a very obvious ploy to create a faux love triangle and stir up some unnecessary sexual tension between Harry, Hermione and Ron.

I do have to write one compliment about Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 -- so here we go: it is visually amazing. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 is by far the best looking of the Harry Potter films; cinematography, special effects and set design are near-perfect. (Maybe it has something to do with Hogwarts not being in this picture? I never did like the way Hogwarts was visually rendered in the films.)

We will have to wait and see if Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 redeems this dreadful theatrical franchise. (I gave up hope that this franchise could be redeemed many years ago!) Then, after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, we can commence pondering how the eight films will stand up many years down the line. (Chris Columbus’ Sorcerer’s Stone and Chamber of Secrets have already aged quite poorly in less than 10 years.) Nonetheless, the literary incarnation of Harry Potter -- which I consider to be one of the better works of young adult fiction -- will probably continue to endure for a long time to come.

FILM REVIEW: NOTHING PERSONAL

Anne (Lotte Verbeek) in Nothing Personal.

Don’t ask, don’t tell

By Don Simpson

Alone in her empty Amsterdam flat, Anne (Lotte Verbeek) has discarded her furniture and personal belongings -- even her wedding ring -- thus severing all ties with her life in Holland. We next see Anne with no money, hitchhiking with a backpack and tent, eventually arriving in Ireland. She makes it quite obvious that she is distrustful of men, if not all people, and has absolutely no interest in getting to know anyone or having them getting to know her. Anne possesses an unyielding desire to lead a solitary and nomadic existence, wandering the stunning vistas of County Galway.

Anne stumbles upon a seaside cottage which is all but cut off from the rest of the world -- an idyllic hideaway for a misanthropic hermit like herself. She discovers that a widower named Martin (Stephen Rea) lives in the cottage. Despite his reclusive ways, Martin proposes that Anne work in his garden in exchange for food. Anne agrees under one condition: no personal information will be exchanged between them (they have to sing a song as punishment if they initiate a personal discussion). Anne never divulges her name to Martin, she insists that he refer to her as “you.” Their lives begin to follow the traditional cycle of people living off of the land: early to bed and early to rise, with hearty meals to keep them working throughout the daylight hours. Both characters appear to be well-educated and cultured Europeans -- pairing fancy meals with fine wines; well versed in music, literature and philosophy -- they just prefer to retain their own personal space.

An Irish-Dutch co-production, Nothing Personal relishes in its own placidity as a quiet (practically unspoken) existential diatribe on individual freedoms and the need for solitude to collect one’s thoughts. Writer-director Urszula Antoniak's feature film debut takes an incredibly staunch position on not revealing any personal information about its characters; Nothing Personal is character study which remains totally untarnished by the past. Anne and Martin, stubborn as they are, refuse to divulge any information about themselves; we are relegated to experiencing these characters as their relationship organically unfolds in the present. An incredibly intimate and personal story, gorgeously realized by cinematographer Daniлl Bouquet, Nothing Personal purposefully handcuffs the audience by not having the traditional cinematic pieces of the formulaic puzzle to help us connect with the characters. For the first time in my life, I found myself pleading for some expository dialogue to trickle into a film. As a glutton for punishment, I can only applaud Antoniak for keeping up her end of the bargain.

THEATER REVIEW: THE STORIES OF CESAR CHAVEZ

Fred Blanco in The Stories of Cesar Chavez.

Tossed Cesar salad

By Ed Rampell

Playwright-actor Fred Blanco’s The Stories of Cesar Chavez is part and parcel of an overlooked yet significant theatrical trend stretching coast to coast: Progressive plays about Communists, labor militants, unions, leftists, etc. As during the last Great Depression when “proletarian drama” swept the stage, socially aware theatre is making a comeback. Indeed, the most interesting thing for me about Blanco’s one man show is its depiction of Luis Valdez’s Teatro Campesino, a theater in the fields, the cultural arm of the United Farm Workers, the union Chavez co-founded with Dolores Huerta, et al. In a vivid scene within a scene, a grower is portrayed by Blanco in a pig’s mask, which is not only a reference to capitalists’ greed, but also suggests the forms Teatro Campesino takes, which includes Commedia dell’ Arte and ancient Aztec and Mayan rituals. Off the pig, indeed.

This is but one sequence and one character depicted onstage during Blanco’s complex one-man show. Other characters include a zoot suiter, a Chicana tortilla maker, a hired goon/strikebreaker and a Molotov cocktail wielding Latino militant, who advocates fighting fire with fire on the fields during the harsh class struggle. The characters mainly speak English, but there is some spoken Spanish; appropriately, the play deals with this still touchy language issue

Blanco portrays all of the roles with panache and authenticity, as he does Chavez himself, an hombre caught in-between right and left who tries to navigate his Gandhi-like nonviolent movement and philosophy between these two forces. Just as Martin Luther King (who Gerald C. Rivers likewise plans to depict in another progressive one-man show) contended with vicious Bull Conner-like racists on the one hand, and with Stokely “The Fire Next Time” Carmichael-like revolutionary nationalists on the other.

Blanco convincingly portrays the labor leader and gives us some insight into what made this civil rights icon tick. Who knew that Chavez wore zoot suits and defied Jim Crow laws right here in supposedly liberal California, back in the day? The play is mostly set during Cesar’s salad days in the lettuce and other agonizing agricultural fields in the 1960s. We experience his religious beliefs, the fasts and the times that tried this man’s soul. Those currently fighting in America for full human rights -- gays, undocumented aliens, exploited workers, gays, etc., -- can learn a lot about social struggles from this powerful, poignant play.

At one point during the drama a campesino displays a short hoe, which compelled the ag workers to bend over, causing them great suffering in the John Steinbeck-like fields. Watching this scene I remembered a story that the late great Bobby Lees, the blacklisted screenwriter of many Abbott and Costello movies, told me, about how during the 1940s the Communist Party raised money from La-La-Land lefties, bought full length hoes, and then drove up north to Salinas or wherever to give them out to the Latino and Filipino farm workers in order to spare them the pain of, literally, backbreaking stoop labor.

Out-of-work actors often “suffer” from that Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland syndrome where the solutions to all their problems is: “I know! Let’s put on a show!” So unemployed or under-used thespians write parts for themselves, and sometimes this takes the shape of one-man (or one-woman) shows showcasing their talents. I don’t know if this was the case with Blanco, who undeniably has talent as both a playwright and actor. In any case, one-person shows can take the form of the actor playing just the lead role, or many different parts, a la Anna Deavere Smith and her “documentary theatre,” most notably her 1994 L.A. riot piece, Twilight: Los Angeles.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way Blanco’s central character, Chavez, gets lost in The Stories of Cesar Chavez's shuffle. The labor leader seems to meander among Blanco’s other dramatis personae, and although this play is billed as being about Chavez, the UFW jefe is only depicted onstage about a third or so of the time.

Another problem with The Stories of Cesar Chavez is its low key ending. The play just seems to sort of peter out and run out of steam. This is a writing and structural issue, as there’s nothing wrong with Blanco’s acting, but rather with his uneven playwriting. Nevertheless, The Stories of Cesar Chavez  has much to commend it and is well worth seeing, especially by theater goers interested in dramatizations about socially conscious subjects, Latino themes, and those who just enjoy great acting. Although I never had the chance to see him in person, when he was depicting him onstage Blanco really brought Cesar Chavez alive for me.

I did, however, meet Cesar’s companera, Dolores Huerta, at a party after the private screening of a documentary produced by Rory Kennedy, the daughter of Bobby Kennedy. (Surprisingly, Cesar’s famous interactions with RFK are not depicted by Blanco, but I guess you can’t cover everything in a bio-play.) Huerta, who is an exceedingly attractive individual, had just returned from her trip to Venezuela with progressive celebrities such as Harry Belafonte, who were eyewitnesses to the 21st century socialism of that other Chavez: Hugo. (It was during this trip that Belafonte made international news by denouncing then-President Bush as “the greatest terrorist in the world.”) I asked Huerta what revolutionary Venezuela was like, and she looked at me and said: “Remember all those things we dreamed about and fought for during the ’60s? Well, they’re doing them now in Venezuela.”

If so, I think this would gladden the heart of the late, great Cesar Chavez, who lives again onstage in Fred Blanco’s moving one-man show – his very own version of Teatro Campesino.






The Stories of Cesar Chavez runs through Dec. 12 at the Sacred Fools Theater, 660 N. Heliotrope Dr., L.A., CA 90004. For more info: 310/281-8337; www.sacredfools.org




THEATER REVIEW: MAESTRO, THE ART OF LEONARD BERNSTEIN

Hershey Felder in Maestro, The Art of Leonard Bernstein. 

West side his-story

By Ed Rampell

In Maestro, The Art of Leonard Bernstein actor-playwright-musician Hershey Felder is a one-man band in his fourth one-man show about a renowned composer that has played at the Geffen Playhouse. The other unusual suspects of Felder’s magnificent musical obsession have been George Gershwin, Frederic Chopin and Ludwig von Beethoven. Bernstein, who composed the music for West Side Story, Candide, Trouble in Tahiti, the Marlon Brando movie, On the Waterfront, etc., struggles to live up to his father’s demands proved to be a rhapsody that made Lenny blue (in more ways than one), as we’ll see.

Like Ed Asner’s FDR, recently produced at the Pasadena Playhouse, this 90-minute or so one-man show has no intermission. But unlike Asner’s New Dealer, Felder’s musician must tickle the ivories on a Steinway while he also acts and relates the life story of one of the 20th century’s most renowned conductors, composers, musical mentors and proselytizers. Hershey skillfully pulls off this delicate balancing act with aplomb, bringing Bernstein and his music back to vivid life. We follow Lenny from his troubled childhood to his schooling at Boston Latin and Harvard, his apprenticeships with several conductors, the accidental thrusting of young Bernstein into the limelight at Carnegie Hall, his TV appearances as a sort of musical dramaturge on the Omnibus and other programs, his forays at the Great White Way, Bernstein’s conducting of major orchestras and his angst-ridden journey to become a great American composer.

We also get glimpses into Bernstein’s tumultuous private life: Early intimations of homoeroticism, marriage, fatherhood, his coming out of the closet and abandoning of his beloved wife, Felicia, and the repercussions of his actions.


Bernstein lived to regret his betrayal, if you can call it that, of Felicia. But what haunts the conductor most is his self-perceived failure to live up to the expectations of himself and others that he would compose an immortal classical masterpiece. The tortured maestro flagellates himself over the gap he believes exists in his otherwise admirable, transcendent oeuvre.

To what should we ascribe this creative “omission”? Perhaps, like his literary contemporary, Truman Capote, Bernstein’s celebrity overshadowed his artistry. Why tackle the clacking keys of that typewriter or piano, grapple with your muse as you strive to create -- often a painful, nervewracking experience requiring the utmost concentration, shutting all else out -- when one is invited to hobnob with Jackie O. and exchange bons mots with the beautiful people at Elaine’s instead? Especially when one’s celebrity status also pays the rent, and there’s no pressing economic impetus to create.

I don’t know to what extent the Manhattan glitterati, Broadway success, Hollywood excess, and so on enticed and distracted Bernstein, as it did Capote (his childhood friend Harper Lee apparently learned this lesson well, and after To Kill a Mockingbird’s wild success, she shunned the limelight that consumed Truman). But I have a different interpretation as to why the composer of the play that revolutionized Broadway felt like an aesthetic flop. It really doesn’t matter if one co-creates (with choreographer Jerome Robbins and lyricist Stephen Sondheim) a West Side Story, or Candide, with its mellifluous music enlivening Voltaire’s enlightening tale or the sonorous score for On the Waterfront, and so on, and bring so much joy to millions of children (I still remember Lenny’s wonderful explication of Sergei Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf) and adults. What matters is that if you have a parent who belittles you and tells you that you’ll never amount to anything, even if you illuminate the lights of the Great White Way, Tinseltown and the world with your artistry, you and your work will never be good enough, and never will be, you bad boy. There was a lot of trouble in Bernstein’s Tahiti. (I’m no Sigmund Freud, but perhaps this may also help to explain the apparently bi-sexual Bernstein’s psychosexual tension?)

These are insights I took away from Felder’s drama, along with what a huge role Judaism -- in particular that religion’s mystical side -- played in Bernstein’s life and on his music. This was quite a revelation. What’s missing in this bio-play is the rather well-known fundraiser Bernstein threw for the Black Panther Party at his posh Park Avenue penthouse pad, and which Tom Wolfe ridiculed in his 1970 book Radical Chic &a Mau-Mauing the Flak Catchers. For the Virginia born and raised Wolfe, whose father edited The Southern Planter journal, white guilt was the rationale for Bernstein’s Panther bash. But even if the soiree took place in a duplex I prefer to believe that the son of a Russian Jewish émigré might have had compassion for and solidarity with members of another oppressed minority. Who’da thunk it?

But you can’t include everything in a bio-play, even one as ably directed by Joel Zwick, who also helmed Felder’s preceding dramatic triptych of composers. Maestro does have great acting and stellar music, as well as imaginative projection design rendered by Andrew Wilder, as the play does include some archival footage of the conductor, plus other striking images. Randall Arney is Maestro, The Art of Leonard Bernstein's artistic director, while the estimable film/TV helmer Gilbert Cates, who has produced 14 Academy Awards ceremonies, is the Geffen’s producing director. For those interested in music, theatre, gay subjects, Judaism, obviously Bernstein himself, and virtuoso acting, don’t miss the latest installment of Hershey’s philharmonic factory. Bravissimo!


Maestro, The Art of Leonard Bernstein runs through Dec. 12, at 10886 Le Conte Ave., Westwood Village, CA 90024. For more information: 310/208-5454; for more info: www.GeffenPlayhouse.com

FILM REVIEW: COOL IT

Bjorn Lomborg in Cool It.

Cap and trade on fear

By Don Simpson

Ondi Timoner's documentary, Cool It, follows Danish author and scholar Bjorn Lomborg (The Environmental Skeptic; Cool It: The Skeptical Environmentalist’s Guide To Global Warming), a gadfly to many environmentalists, who contends that though global warming does exist, our environmental situation is far less grave than the fear propaganda of "alarmists" such as Al Gore lead us to believe. Lomborg refutes four of the scariest “facts” presented by Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth while also criticizing the all-talk and no-action of international conferences (such as the 1997 Kyoto Protocol and the 2009 Copenhagen Summit) which proposed outlandish actions (such as Cap and Trade and Carbon Taxing) that would cost billions and have very little positive change.

Cool It ponders whether the current budgets allocated towards climate change, global poverty, clean drinking water, education and disease could be spent more wisely. Lomborg reasons that rather than focusing on controlling carbon emissions, we should research how new energy strategies (solar, wind, algae and wave power) can be made more affordable and practical than coal and oil. Lomborg also asserts that we should simultaneously develop strategies via geo-engineering to protect the world from the effects of global warming as well as focus on fighting hunger and disease to create a better present (and future) for the world’s population. His calculations are never clearly explained, but Lomborg suggests that a yearly budget of $250 billion would address all of these problems worldwide.

Most of Lomborg’s assertions and theories are quickly glossed over -- with an occasional talking head expert popping up onscreen for a minute or two to add some legitimacy to his opinions (Stephen Schneider appears as Lomborg’s only worthwhile opposition). Rather than focusing on the scientific facts and clearly explaining Lomborg’s theories surrounding global warming, Timoner approaches Cool It with the assumption that she must dedicate a significant amount of screen-time merely to convince us that Lomborg is a trustworthy subject. Cool It spends way too much time (approximately 20 minutes) at the onset of the film explaining how Lomborg was censored for scientific dishonesty in what seems like an attempt to offer him up as a martyr for environmentalism (Lomborg was eventually exonerated in Danish court from the accusations); then, the remaining 70 minutes of the film is saturated with even more obvious attempts to depict Lomborg as the good guy. If only Cool It would focus less on Lomborg and more on Lomborg’s ideas. I also find it very frustrating that most of Lomborg’s actual ideas regarding global warming are conveyed via a classroom PowerPoint presentation (an uninspired mimicry of An Inconvenient Truth).

Personally, I tend to agree with many of Lomborg’s opinions about global warming (or, as I prefer, climate change). First and foremost, I detest the politics of fear. I also tend to doubt the true effectiveness of carbon taxing or Cap and Trade legislation, especially as the sole solution. I agree that most people are hesitant to change -- especially if it adversely impacts their accustomed standard of living -- and the only real way to eradicate the world's reliance on fossil fuels is to create cheaper and cleaner alternatives. (Carbon taxing will never work for developing and third world nations.) This places the entire burden of global warming on the shoulders of the world’s scientists and the governments and investors who fund their research and development.

Where I tend to disagree with Lomborg is that I believe that we do have a role that we can play as individuals. Lomborg blatantly mocks Earth Hour and small lifestyle changes -- such as switching to energy efficient light-bulbs or driving hybrid vehicles -- as being ineffective. In my opinion (disclaimer: I am not a scientist), these little lifestyle changes will begin to add up as more and more people make cleaner and more efficient energy decisions. Sure, celebrating one Earth Hour per year does not actually do much good in the grand scheme of things, but it does increase humankind’s awareness that we do not need to constantly consume energy in order to survive -- we can take a short break now and then (and we should take that break more often than one hour per year). Until the average person can afford to switch to clean energy, I do not think it would hurt to promote lifestyle changes that are earth friendly and economically beneficial no matter how minuscule.

FILM REVIEW: VISION

Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem

By Don Simpson

In Margarethe von Trotta’s Vision, renowned German actor Barbara Sukowa plays Hildegard von Bingen, a 12th-century Benedictine nun turned-magistra -- as well as a seer, composer, philosopher, playwright, poet, scientist, naturalist and herbalist -- who is often revered as an early feminist icon.

Sent to Disibodenberg Cloister at age 8 (many historians claim von Bingen was not cloistered until age 14), she is placed in the care of the magistra of the cloister, Jutta (Lena Stolze). Upon Jutta's death, von Bingen is elected as magistra of the cloister. After one of her nuns becomes pregnant at Disibodenberg, von Bingen and about twenty nuns move into the newly constructed St. Rupertsberg monastery -- von Bingen’s loyal confident and teacher Volmar (Heino Ferch) serves as their provost.

In many ways, Vision is reminiscent of director von Trotta’s feminist films of yesteryear (Marianne and Juliane; Rosa Luxemburg; Rosenstrasse, revealing her fascination with von Bingen’s penchant for being a rule-breaker as well as a forward-thinking pioneer of faith and enlightenment. Vision also intelligently depicts von Bingen’s political and rhetorical savvy in contending with the vanity and sexism inherent in the masculine world of the 12th-century. Von Bingen resides in what is purely a man’s world, yet you would never know that by the power and influence she is able to wield. Yet von Trotta’s von Bingen is not without faults. Jealousy, pride, narcissism and egotism are readily apparent and she is a physically weak person who falls ill with any trial or tribulation that comes her way.

Visually, Vision is finely crafted with flawless mise en scene, gorgeous lighting and lush colors; even the most minute details (the characters’ eyes -- especially Sukowa’s -- possess an otherworldly sparkle and radiance) are immaculately rendered. The spine-tingling sound, too, is masterfully recorded. All in all, the production values of this film are quite extraordinary.

Disappointingly though, Von Trotta opts not to discuss von Bingen’s condemnations of same-sex couplings, masturbation and the misuse of carnal pleasures; she also promoted severe repentance (such as fasting and bodily penance) in order to obtain forgiveness from God. It is also worth noting that Oliver Sacks has speculated that von Bingen’s visions were merely the symptoms of migraines.

FILM FEATURE: JOHN SAYLES AND AMIGO

John Sayles on the set of Amigo. Photo by Mary Cybulski.

Indie filmmaker rides again.

By Ed Rampell

Writer-director John Sayles went to Hollywood Saturday night, but that’s not to say the über-indie filmmaker -- creator of independent features such as Return of the Secaucus Seven, The Brother From Another Planet and Lone Star -- has “gone Hollywood.” Sayles held court at the historic Roosevelt Hotel then crossed the Hollywood Boulevard Walk of Fame (where, not surprisingly, there’s no star for the maverick moviemaker) to present the U.S. premiere of his new film Amigo at what may be La-La-Land’s grandest movie palace, the ornate, capacious Grauman’s Chinese Theater.

A near epic entirely shot on location in the Philippines with a largely Filipino crew and a mixed cast of Filipino and American actors, Amigo tells the story of a village caught in the crossfire between Filipino nationalists and U.S. soldiers occupying those Western Pacific islands -- an outgrowth of 1898’s Spanish-American War. Instead of liberating the Philippines from colonialism, the latter day Yanqui conquistadors replaced Spain as the colonial ruler. Having already endured a third of a millennium of foreign occupation and rule, General Aguinaldo and his fellow revolutionaries did not take kindly to Washington’s meddling in their internal affairs, and Filipino guerrillas took up arms to resist the U.S. invaders.

The Philippine-American War was arguably the U.S. Empire’s longest war, lasting from 1899 all the way to 1913. (One could actually argue that although the Philippines attained formal independence in 1946, the U.S. occupation lasted until 1991, when the cataclysmic eruption of Mt. Pinatubo with post-Ferdinand Marcos nationalism combined to drive the Yanquis out of their Subic Bay Naval Station and Clark Air bases.) Leave it to the leftwing Sayles -- whose company is called Anarchists’ Convention Films -- to shine a light on this little known armed conflict -- something that the helmer says he loves to do. And by turning to this violent episode of the past, Sayles also scores some salient points about Washington’s two ongoing, seemingly endless occupations of Afghanistan and Iraq, which threaten to replace the Philippine-American imperial imbroglio as the U.S.’s longest lasting wars.

As Chris Cooper’s hard-bitten colonel says, “There’s a lot of history you don’t know about.”

Cooper, a veteran Sayles-man, leads the American troupe as Col. Hardacre, a hard ass Civil War vet and officer in charge of the U.S. troops, who clashes with Garrett Dillahunt’s Lt. Compton, as he attempts to win the hearts and minds of the villagers he oversees. In an effort at what would be called “hamlet pacification” during another Yankee war of aggression, Vietnam , Compton introduces display democracy to the village he occupies. But when Hardacre returns there after a skirmish he water boards the hamlet’s re-elected headman, Rafael Dacanay (Joel Torre).

Rafael walks a taut tightrope as the village chief who must placate foreign invaders garrisoned in his village of Nipa huts and somehow co-exist with the guerrillas holed up in the jungle, and with whom he somewhat sympathizes. Rafael also contends with divided family loyalties. It’s a tough balancing act, as both the indigenous and the invading forces reportedly committed atrocities during the war.

Sayles often directs low key, laconically paced, character driven indies, such as the 1983 coming out drama Lianna, made long before porn’s Sappho chic trend or Ellen DeGeneres came out on her sitcom or MSNBC’s Rachel Maddow replaced Ellen as America’s favorite lesbian. Lone Star, which paired Cooper and Elizabeth Pena, is a racially charged murder mystery, but also a sensitive drama about brother-sister incest. Amigo, however, is most similar to Sayles’ action-packed Matewan, which was inspired by an actual episode of explosive class war pitting militant miners against owners and their henchmen. Amigo has the most gunplay and revolutionary politics of any Sayles film since Matewan, which also co-starred Cooper.

Sayles shot Amigo on location at Bohol, a scenic island located in the Visayas archipelago. During the Q&A after the Nov. 6 premiere at Grauman’s Chinese Theater, Sayles spoke highly of the Filipino film industry and of the Philippines as a location, which often doubles for Vietnam as in Hollywood director Francis Ford Coppola’s Apocalypse Now.

Most of Amigo’s crewmembers were Filipinos, including its cinematographer, Lee Briones-Meily, and production designer Rodell Cruz. An exception were soundmen Sayles imported because, he said, “sync sound” and Dolby technology, are not widely used in the Philippines. Sayles added that while the Filipino crew was paid on par with or slightly more than what they’d get for working on a local production, they worked shorter, more regular hours on Amigo.

Sayles’ longtime producer Maggie Renzi told the audience that U.S. distributors should pick up Amigo because there are so many Filipinos in the U.S. About one fifth of all people of Asian ancestry in the U.S. are Filipino. This is probably due to the colonial history of the Philippines and U.S. After people of Chinese origin, Filipinos are the second biggest Asian-American groups.

Prior to the screening, at the Roosevelt Hotel’s lobby Sayles enthusiastically expounded upon Amigo’s use of RED digital cameras to two-time Academy Award winning cinematographer Haskell Wexler, who previously worked as Sayles’ director of photography on Silver City and Matewan and attended the Hollywood premiere of Amigo.

At the Roosevelt the tall, graying Sayles also discussed the vicissitudes of the economics of filmmaking and publishing, considering the latter to be in an even worse state than the former. Amigo grew out of Sayles’ soon-to-be-published sprawling novel called A Moment in the Sun about the era at the end of the 19th century, which marked a key turning point for the United States. Having utterly routed the Mexicans in the Southwest and the American Natives from coast to coast, Washington looked overseas to fulfill its “Manifest Destiny,” as Westward Expansion inevitably led to the Pacific. As the U.S. land grab grabbed Hawaii, Guam, Philippines and beyond, America arguably went from being a republic to becoming an empire.

Sayles, who is an accomplished author of fiction, as well as a screenwriter, lamented that he’d finally found a publisher for A Moment in the Sun, but was only being paid “a $3,000 advance. I spent more than $5,000 on research,” he laughed. Meanwhile, as of Nov. 6, Amigo has not picked up a distribution deal anywhere in the world, except for the Philippines.

At 59-years-old, Sayles may no longer be Hollywood’s enfant terrible, but he remains terribly committed to making independent minded, thought provoking films (and books) his way and on his terms, outside of the Hollywood studio system. To paraphrase the poet Vladimir Mayakovsky, there’s no gray hair in this cineaste’s soul.