In Natalie Erika James' RELIC, characters peel away the present to discover the past

One of those What's-going-on-with-Granny? movies that proves -- for awhile, at least -- good enough to work on two out of three of the levels it tackles: horror and family history. Whether RELIC works on its third and probably most important level, which seemed to TrustMovies to be about unconditional love, will depend on how well this new film, the first full-lengther directed and co-written (with Christian White) by Natalie Erika James (shown below) holds and convinces you throughout its too-little-content-for-90-minutes running time.

Relic lost me around the mid-way point. I continued with it, but more out of a sense of reviewer's duty than enjoyment or interest. The plot follows a dutiful daughter (Emily Mortimer, above center) and her own daughter (Bella Heathcote, above, right) who come to visit Grandma (Robyn Nevin, above, left) because there seems to be a problem.

The two women arrive at an empty house with Gran missing. Once she returns, it is very soon clear that this old woman is a danger to herself and to others: a textbook example of someone who must be taken into some kind of protective custody.

But, instead of acting like intelligent, caring adults, mom and granddaughter turn into horror movie clichés who waste our time by walking down long dark corridors for the usual effect but to no particular purpose. Chills melt, suspense flails and dies, and we realize most of this exists merely to provide filler and vamping.

So we wait for the conclusion that works as both metaphor and reality -- well, the reality of a horror movie, at least. And while it does prove somewhat interesting and different, it also arrives as too little too late. Ms Mortimer and Ms Heathcote are as good as their roles allow but only Ms Nevin rises to the memorable. She is simultaneously classy, scary and impressive indeed.

Cinematography, set design and special effects are also as good as possible, considering -- especially the manner in which the house is made to mirror the dementia of its occupant. Otherwise, though, Relic seem to me to be yet another example of an idea worth maybe forty minutes stretched to unseemly proportions.

From IFC Midnight, the movie hits select theaters, drive-ins and digital/VOD this Friday, July 10. Click here for more information.

Sherry Hormann's film, A REGULAR WOMAN, revisits a horrific honor killing in Germany

If you're a foreign-film buff, you will perhaps remember a movie from a decade ago entitled When We Leave, submitted by Germany to qualify in the Oscar category of Best Foreign Language Film. Its subject was the Muslim honor killing of a young woman, and though it was not a very good film, its story has been made into a motion picture once again, this time under the title of A REGULAR WOMAN. The new film is, like its predecessor, German produced but is directed by American-born fillmmaker, Sherry Hormann.

Ms. Hormann, shown at right, has done a remarkable job of telling anew this truly awful tale of fundamentalist religion trumping even the most basic and necessary tenets of family. Her approach is very close to documentary -- using a plethora of "still" shots -- and this not only works surprisingly well, it even adds to the momentum and punch of the wily narrative (the screenplay is by Florian Öller).

Hormann's film begins at very nearly the end of the tale, and her movie is actually narrated by its heroine, Aynur, now deceased, who slyly introduces herself as possibly one of several lively and attractive young women we see on the street.

Then we flashback to Aynur, beautifully portrayed by Almila Bagriacik, first as an eighth-grader about to be sent to her family's homeland, Turkey, to be married to an older cousin who, soon enough, turns out to be an abusive spouse. From the outset, the film steeps us in the "traditions" of fundamentalist Muslim culture -- especially regarding the "ownership" of women.

As the film progresses, we see not only how the current religion, as practiced on the males (especially the young) who attend the mosque, effectively destroys what ought to be a loving family life, but also how this has been going on for so long now that it is accepted as utterly normal by both the men and the women.

Once the pregnant Aynur has returned from Turkey and her abusive spouse to live with her family again, she begins to understand just how awful is the situation for women via these fundamentalist Muslim beliefs. Slowly she begins to respond. Regarding the headscarf: "I start to wonder what Allah finds so bad about my hair."

Rather than simply being a catalog of abuses, the film finds a lot of smart humor and irony in its grievous situations -- without ever losing its momentum or the enormous sense of rage that continues to build up in both Aynur and the viewer. If your blood pressure has not gone into overdrive by the conclusion, I shall be surprised. TrustMovies felt he could use a class in anger management by the time those end credits rolled.

Another worthwhile movie from the newly rejiggered Corinth Films, A Regular Woman hit virtual theaters last month and will eventually find its way to home video, I'm sure. Click here for more information on how you can view it now.

THE TRUTH opens -- and a super-starry French film directed by Kore-Eda Hirokazu arrives

Kore-Eda Hirokazu's first film not in his own Japanese language (so far as I know), THE TRUTH -- not to be confused with the old Henri-Georges Clouzot film with Brigitte Bardot -- is spoken in mostly French with some English by actors as diverse as Catherine Deneuve, Juliette Binoche and Ethan Hawke, all of whom are fine and dandy -- as is this lovely film itself.

One of the "family reunion" variety, as have been a number of Kore-Eda's movies -- granted, sometimes in rather unusual ways -- The Truth involves a grand dame of French cinema named Fabienne (Ms Deneuve), now at what may be the end of her career, and a visit from her daughter Lumir (Ms Binoche) who is a screenwriter working in the USA, from whom she has long been at least slightly estranged; her son-in-law Hank, a somewhat successful Hollywood actor played by Mr. Hawke; and her delightful little granddaughter, Charlotte (the young actress Clémentine Grenier, making her film debut, whom I hope we'll be seeing soon again).

While many of the family-inspired themes here are familiar from Kore-Eda's other work (the filmmaker is shown at left, with his young co-star, Ms Grenier) as well as from other "family" pix, his main theme most likely is that age-old question, "What is the truth?", particularly where families are concerned. His answer, which takes several twists and turns during the course of the movie, is a cautious, malleable and not particularly easy one. And this -- along with a group of performances that could hardly be bettered in terms of each one finding the "truth" at the heart of his or her character -- makes for the kind of movie-going experience that charms and entertains, even as it raises questions about family (and extended family) that are always worth considering.

There are a couple of delicious sub-plots here, too: One involves a movie currently being shot that stars Fabienne, along with a young actress who looks and acts remarkably like another long-dead actress from Fabienne's past; the other is the publication of Fabienne's memoirs, a book chock full of what daughter Lumir sees as either outright lies or those occasioned simply via omission. All this is gracefully woven together with the filmmaker's expected consummate skill. Look for some very special actors -- Ludivine Sagnier and Roger Van Hool among them -- popping up in nice supporting roles, too.
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What seems especially impressive is how well Kore-Eda adjusts to both French culture and the (sort-of) intrusion of America -- via Hawke and Hollywood -- into his mix. You will probably leave The Truth feeling pleasantly sufficed without any sense of having been over-awed or knocked for a loop. Yet the ideas and characters here may linger awhile, as you think about your own family -- blood and extended -- along with the notion of what movies (even the sad, possibly quite moving little sci-fi flick within this movie) are capable of achieving. Kore-Eda's usual lesson-- consider every viewpoint --  is brought home beautifully once again.

From IFC Films, in French with English subtitles and running 106 minutes, the film opens in select theaters and via digital streaming and cable VOD this Friday, July 3. Click here for more information on how and where to find (and see) The Truth.

DVDebut for DARK FORTUNE, Stefan Haupt's quiet, psychologically astute drama of family, trauma, repression and loss

A very dear friend of mine, a psychologist whose life ended abruptly and far too soon, once told me that the children of psychologists are some of the most screwed-up people on earth. The doctor/parent may minister quite well to patients, yet for whatever reason(s), his/her own children are often in certain ways left at the starting gate. Why this should be -- the age-old choice of placing job ahead of family or maybe simple hypocrisy/denial -- may not matter as much as the fact that, all too often, this cliche proves true.

TrustMovies thought about his old friend and that theory while viewing the very fine, almost-new (2016) Swiss film, DARK FORTUNE, directed and adapted by Stefan Haupt from Finsteres Glück by Lukas Hartmann.

Herr Haupt (pictured at right), who gave us the unusual documentary/ narrative combo, The Circle, back in 2014, here offers up a film full of events -- seen or remembered and some of these truly awful -- in such a quiet, considered manner that he, along with his excellent cast, manages to preclude melodrama while still giving us the necessary drama, allowing us to feel all of the emotion that goes along with it.

Events include a horrendous car accident that destroys a family and leaves one orphaned child, a fight between relatives over the care of that child, an excellent psychologist who is given temporary care of the orphan, and her own family that is going through -- yep -- its own "children issues."

Dark Fortune covers a lot of ground, but its near-two-hour running time allows that ground to be explored properly. If you appreciate stories of family, trauma, astute psychology and believable resolution, you won't be bored and will finish the film is a state of pleasurable relief.

The role of the child is taken by the appealing and talented young newcomer, Noé Ricklin (above), who combines vulnerability, fear and anger into quite a personality. His psychologist and helper, Eliane, is played by Eleni Haupt (above and below) with such a strong sense of conviction and understanding that she'll win you over just as she does her young patient.

Slowly, carefully we learn more about the boy's departed family members, as well as his remaining aunt and grandmother, and simultaneously we meet Eleni's two daughters and her estranged second husband (a very good job by Martin Hug, below, right).

Together, these quiet, beautifully observed scenes build up quite a head of steam and emotion, mostly by not allowing the characters to do so. The tightly constrained script, direction and performances combine to create a tale of trauma, loss and family secrets. Most interesting of all is how the film's center of interest moves from one family to the other -- and then brings it all together via a kind of off-the-cuff, spontaneous psychology and therapy that not only seem believable but also work. This is an all-around lovely, moving job of movie-making.

From Corinth Films, in German with English subtitles and running 116 minutes, the film hit the street on DVD -- for rental or purchase -- this past Tuesday, June 23, and can also be seen via Amazon Prime Video.

Mass unemployment, corporate malfeasance, and something extra join forces in Robert Jury's debut film, WORKING MAN

You could hardly ask for a more timely movie -- unless it covered the current Corona crap-fest -- than WORKING MAN, the first feature film from writer/director Robert Jury. It deals with a rust belt community in which one after another major business has shut down, leaving more and more citizens unemployed. When one of these, a past-retirement-age fellow named Allery, feels so lost without his job that he literally but secretly goes back to work in the plant which has already shuttered, he starts a chain of events that soon spirals well beyond his personal control.

Mr. Jury, pictured at left, has certainly cast his movie well. The role of Allery is taken by that fine actor, Peter Gerety, (shown below and recently seen on Netflix in the lovely movie, Change in the Air). If you're imagining that Jury's film deals with corporate mistreatment of workers, you'd be on target. But this fledgling work has a lot more on its mind -- coping with family tragedy, the distancing of husband and wife, why and on whom we place our trust -- and this proves both a strength and something of a major problem. The filmmaker bites off more than he can properly chew, and then relies too much on coincidental storytelling to bring his themes to fruition.

Recognizing medicine in a neighbor's cupboard and having it be the same as what one's troubled offspring used to take proves a little too convenient, plotwise, and even character-wise, as a reason for the too easy and complete change-of-heart on the part of Allery's wife, played well, despite less resources given her, by Talia Shire, below.

The film's most interesting character, however, is that of another laid-off worker and neighbor of Allery, Walter, played by a very impressive actor new to me who's worked mostly on TV and cable, Billy Brown. Though Walter's character is in some ways the most problematic link in Working Man, so interesting, impressive and powerful is Mr. Brown's performance that this actor pretty much carries the film.

Working Man is good enough to make you wish it were better. By its conclusion, you can be forgiven for imagining that the take-away here might be "You can't fight City Hall" (even if, these days, you might not know who the hell the City Hall you are fighting actually is), employment is not as important as healing a failing marriage, and a good peach pie can help a bad bi-polar/borderline personality disorder.

Mr. Jury's direction is just serviceable, but his dialog is generally good. Supporting performances are all excellent, too -- the various worker are both drawn and performed well -- with the standout coming from Patrese McClain as a woman with a connection to Walter.

From Brainstorm Media and running 109 minutes,  the film, which hit VOD yesterday, May 5, is one that, for all its problems, I am still pleased to have viewed. 

ROMA: Yes, Alfonso Cuarón's much-lauded movie is indeed one of the year's best

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Sorry for the delay in covering Alfonso Cuarón's very impressive movie ode to the Mexican woman who helped raise him and his rather large immediate family, but due to a scheduling glitch with my monthly correspondent Lee Liberman, the film fell through TrustMovies' cracks for a bit.

So: Is ROMA -- named for the Mexico City neighborhood in which Cuarón (shown below) grew up -- as good as the blurbs on its poster, left, would indicate? I think it is, though I must admit that several good friends of mine, intelligent movie-lovers all, found the film slow-moving enough to have to stop and then return to it two or three times, in order to finish watching.

How shall I put it, exactly? This is not an "action" movie. Yet for anyone who can appreciate a film about family dynamics, separation, child-rearing, not to mention class and economic differences, racism, and the many different and equally important forms of love involved in the life of a shy, quiet but remarkably morally-centered young woman, Roma hits the sweet spot again and again.

Aside from the sometimes breath-taking and always lovely black-and-white cinematography by Cuarón himself (as was the direction, screenwriting and even much of the editing: this is a very "hands-on" movie), what impresses me most about the film was how much of it has been shot in mid-range/middle distance and how very few enormous close-ups we are asked to view.

This has the effect of not allowing the viewer to so easily or immediately get "close" to the characters. Instead we have to spend the time noting the small details and tiny incidents -- the parking of a car, for instance -- that slowly build character and lead to our further involvement. Middle distance also helps avoid the easy sentimentality found in so much of what we see in film and on television.

As you might expect from this sort of endeavor -- a near-documentary approach to showing us life -- the performances are all terrifically real yet about as unshowy as seems possible under these circumstances. In the leading role of the maid, Cleo, newcomer Yalitizia Aparcio (above) is quietly extraordinary, as befits a character whose job it is to serve others. Less quiet but equally fine is the much-more-seasoned actress Marina de Tavira (below, right) in the role of the broken-hearted mother of the family.

Though much of the movie is given over to small, seemingly sort of static scenes of daily life, there eventually arise a few whoppingly amazing moments that build into some unforgettable situations that Cuarón handles equally well. The first of these occurs as Cleo's boyfriend, Fermin (Jorge Antonio Guerrrero, below) does a nude and full-frontal demonstration of his martial arts skills that, while impressive (in several ways), leaves us wondering just who this guy really is. That slowly, clearly becomes more and more horribly apparent.

Roma also boasts the most memorable and moving birth scene I've yet experienced (for reasons that would be a spoiler to dwell on), and another that suddenly shows us the result of government brutality to its student population that is as sudden as it is spectacularly ugly and believable.

The film climaxes with the scene shown on the poster, top. Before I viewed the movie, this "family hug" --  used extensively in the publicity materials and posters for the film -- looked rather sentimental. Once you've actually seen the whole film, I think you'll agree that this landmark moment, thanks to the filmmaker's style, story, and in particular his skillful use of middle distance, arrives completely and absolutely earned.

From Netflix and still playing its limited release in theaters, even as it streams most everywhere else, Roma, running two hours and fifteen minutes, is definitely one of last year's best film. I am adding it to my list right now. 

In Ventura Pons' MISS DALÍ, we see that infamous artist from his sister's viewpoint

I have long enjoyed the oddball movies of Catalonia filmmaker Ventura Pons, who used to be something of a staple at the FSLC's Spanish Cinema Now. It has been several years since I've had the opportunity to see one, but the drought is now broken by the very limited release of his latest, ever-oddball work -- MISS DALÍ -- about narcissist nutcase and semi-talent, Salvador Dalí and his family and "friends." I use that last word loosely, as I am not at all sure if the artist's treatment of those people closest to him could qualify as anything approaching real friendship. I once knew briefly one of the handsome young men the artist used and abused (both emotionally and physically, I suspect), and the result was not a happy camper.

Though the "Miss" in the title refers to Dalí's younger sister Anna Maria, it could as easily apply to the artist himself, as campy and gay -- but closeted -- as they probably ever came. (Think John Waters -- but without the closet, or a lick of the honesty and moral clarity Mr. Waters possesses.) Writer/director Pons, shown at right, has based his film, I am guessing, upon the written works of Anna Maria about her brother, her family and their life. His framework consists of a daylong-into-evening conversation between the aged Anna Maria (played with vigor and great feeling by Siân Phillips, on poster, above, and below, left) and her long-time friend Maggie (played by Claire Bloom, below, right). This conversation covers much of a lifetime, allowing incident after incident to be recounted, as we move back and forth in time from present talk to past happenings.

The conversation comes at quite an artistic cost, however, as the exposition here is so bald-faced as to be near shocking. And while Ms Phillips is quite marvelous, having been given the better selection of dialog, Ms Bloom is utterly wasted, having to sit quietly by murmuring little more than the likes of "Ah, yes, I remember" throughout.

The movie is saved in part by the energetic and very well-acted flashbacks, often shot in black-and-white (sometimes sepia-esque), with but a single color very subtly on display: the blue of the sea, a bit of green in the shrubbery, or maybe the rust shade of a dress. In these past-time scenes, Anna Maria is played by another wonderful actress, who seems to be making her full-length film debut here, Eulàlia Ballart, above and below, center.

Ms Ballart beautifully communicates the longing of unrequited love (for playwright/poet Federico García Lorca), as well as the gnawing, if quiet pain that builds when one is considered the lesser light in the family (first, a female; second, a non-artist). Lorca, who, as shown here, was in love with the unable-to-respond Salvador, is played by the lovely and graceful young actor José Carmona (above, right, and below, left), who captures Lorca's yearning and passion, as well as, in his recitations, a fine understanding of the poet's work.

The film's liveliest performance is given by Joan Carreras, as Salvador (above, right, and below). Carreras captures Dalí's zeal for notoriety and fame above all else (with money not far behind), and the actor's energy, wit and, yes, charm, go a long way in reminding us how much fun the artist could be. In small doses and for while.

The other actor who shines brightest here is Senor Pons' long-time performance collaborator, Josef Maria Pou (below, right), who plays Dali's stern-but-way-too-forgiving-and-enabling father. Pou proves alternately angry, funny, caring and shocked, and he is, as always, marvelously entertaining.

Most of the drama here comes via the flashbacks. The exposition, which makes those flashbacks possible, is also somewhat draining (Miss Dalí lasts over two-and-three-quarter hours). TrustMovies was never bored, however. The lives and situations, as depicted here, are just too interesting, provocative and annoyingly enjoyable to look away from. And the locations, with their visual splendor, provide a most enjoyable, affordable vacation.

We also get glimpses of Salvador's wife, Gala (played by Rachel Lascar, above, left, and below, right) -- a woman who, according to what we see here, almost no one liked -- except, of course, Salvador and Gala herself.

I wish we'd seen some of the artist's work. We don't, so I suspect that the permissions and copyrights must be locked up tighter than a drum. Or they're way too expensive for a Ventura Pons budget. While I often found the artist's work a lot of fun, certainly original, full of symbols and Freudian-as-hell, I also feel they are about as deep/profound as that puddle left by yesterday's brief rain shower. If only for his wretched treatment of Lorca (an artist whose work was deep and profound), both before and after the poet was murdered by Franco's minions, Salvador deserves this film as his memorial.

From ELS Films de la Rambla and running 168 minutes, Miss Dalí opened this past weekend in New York City (at the Cinema Village) and will open in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Monica Film Center this Friday, November 23.