Showing posts with label Álex de la Iglesia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Álex de la Iglesia. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

For a VERY good time, stream Álex de la Iglesia's WITCHING & BITCHING


Feminism (in a pretty odd manner, I grant you), parenting, horror, comedy, and Spain's current economic crisis make wonderfully strange bedfellows in Álex de la Iglesia's newest genre jumper, the delightfully wicked and funny WITCHING & BITCHING. De la Iglesia, pictured below, has always been a kind of throwback -- to genres and decades past -- yet he does this with such enjoyment and full-out capacity to entertain that his movies are often near-irresistible because they are so much fun. This new one certainly is.

The filmmaker is in fine fettle as he tells the tale of a gold heist gone terribly, hilariously awry, and a "getaway" that takes our rather feeble-minded heroes into the home of a coven of witches who are planning a very big and well-attended bar-be-cue bash, with our boys providing the main dish. In that getaway car is our hero (hot guy, Hugo Silva, below, and yes he's dressed as Jesus Christ: costuming is part of the fun of the opening scene)-- separated from his wife and constantly bitching about her behavior (men against women is a very prominent theme here), with the director coming down on neither side -- who brings his little boy to the heist, in order to spend more quality time with the kid.

Also along for the ride is the hero's not-too-swift assistant, whom he barely knows and who spends his time complaining about his uber-sexy girlfriend and his having to perform sexual acts far too often; the driver whose cab the two robbers have hijacked; and that cab's poor passenger, who only wants to get to a nearby city because of a possible job opportunity. In Spain's current economy, your heart will go out to this terribly put-upon passenger.

The witches are a nasty, funny and -- in one case, Carolina Bang (above)-- gorgeous, and their leader is played by the fabulous Spanish actress Carmen Maura (center, left, below), who brings her usual vitality and crazy specificity to the role. The men here are often so misogynistic that the movie can't help but seem feminist with men this stupid, and yet de la Iglesias balances things out by having the witches brand of feminism so crudely anti-male and over-the-top (the movie's "monster" is indeed something to see) that it keeps you quite off balance.

The special effects are so bound into the story told here that they seem both amazing and old-fashioned, and the filmmaker's sense of fun and frolic manages to overwhelm everything in its path. Overall, in fact, at this point in their careers, I'd have to rate de la Iglesias slightly above Guillermo del Toro so far as genuinely effective, thought-provoking and entertaining movies are concerned. Witching & Bitching -- from IFC Midnight, running 113 minutes, and which was called Las brujas de Zugarramurdi in its original language -- became available to stream on Netflix only yesterday, October 14, so watch it soon and weigh in with your opinion.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Netflix streaming tip: Álex de la Iglesia's under-seen AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT

By now Spanish filmmaker Álex de la Iglesia has shown us pretty clearly that he works in a couple of modes: the over-the-top variety (Day of the Beast, Perdita Durango, La Comunidad, 800 Bullets and The Last Circus) and his tamped-down versions, which would include to some extent The Perfect Crime, most definitely The Oxford Murders, and now, his latest work, AS LUCK WOULD HAVE IT (La chispa de la vida). Though de la Iglesia is quite good at both modes, die-hard fans, not to mention most critics, seem to prefer his over-the-top movies. Which is fine -- except that they then downgrade (unfairly, I think) his quieter but every bit as interesting work.

With As Luck Would Have It, the filmmaker, pictured at right, is attempting -- succeeding, too -- at several things. He's taking a look at life these days in our very down economy (Spain's situation makes the USA's look good); he's showing us, sometimes comically, sometimes not so, how far individuals will go to enrich themselves and their reputations; he's making fun of our media-obsessed, twittering times; he's offering up the world as one big marketing event; and finally he's exploring differences between men and women and how the former looks to work and money for salvation, while the latter puts love of family above all else. If this sounds like it's going to be every bit as serious as it is funny, you're on to something. As usual, our critics wanted things more obvious and simple (and comedic) -- maybe a no-holds-barred satire of our marketing society, as though this hasn't been tried already.

So, yes, this filmmaker has bitten off quite a chunk here, but what's most impressive about his movie is how well he negotiates the twists and turns of his story as the mood changes from bitter to sweet, comical to moving, and back again. Our hero is a smart ad man named Roberto (José Mota, above) who's been out of work for too long but today has what might be an important interview with an old friend.

Roberto's Mexican wife, Luisa (Salma Hayek, gorgeous as ever but more sympathetic than usual in this role) stands by her man, and in fact by her whole family, as events, led by one near-disaster, pile up until all of Spain is holding its breath over Roberto's fate.

Perhaps the most unusual, certainly the most spectacular, thing about the entire movie is its setting that houses the event and then the remainder of the film. It's a huge amphitheater (in the background, two photos above) created from ruins (above) discovered under the site of an old hotel where Roberto and Luisa spent their honeymoon. This no-longer-extant hotel serves as the link to before and after the "event." (That's a very good Fernando Tejero, above, as Roberto's "agent.")

The town's mayor (played by the late Juan Luis Galiardo, above, right) and his underling (the great Blanca Portillo, above, left) bring humor and bureaucracy to the proceedings, while Robert and Luisa's children (that's the couple's son, played by Eduardo Casanova, below, right) put us in touch with today's youth.

We get such a good look at everything from the medical profession to newscasters, agents, media moguls (below), advertising mavens, public officials and more that the film is like a window into western society, whose values at this point are -- how to put this? -- upside down.

There are so many wonderful moments in this movie -- funny, moving, pointed, surprising -- provided by the screenwriter (Randy Feldman of Tango & Cash!), the direction, and the many actors playing characters both major and minor that there is no way in hell the film doesn't merit a recommendation. (For the agent's "product placement" moment alone -- don't blink or you'll miss it, below -- the movie merits an extra star.)

Luisa's final decision, in fact, is a kind of amazing endorsement/
deal-breaker. The fact that so many of us will refuse to believe that this decision is even possible or that anyone today would actually opt for it simply shows how debased and cynical we've become.

In its style, setting, beauty, odd juxtapositions and moral clarity, the film is unlike just about anything else you will have viewed. Don't let it go by unseen.

From IFC Films and running 98 minutes, As Luck Would Have It is available now via Netflix Streaming -- and perhaps elsewhere.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

SCN: Álex de la Iglesia's THE LAST CIRCUS Performing in Civil Wartime -- and beyond


With THE LAST CIRCUS (Balada triste de trompeta), writer/director Álex de la Iglesia is working at the absolute peak of his powers so far. This is not to say that the guy doesn't have a ways yet to go: As usual, his movie's over the top -- it has to be, given what is going on -- but it is also, as usual, too long. Yet it is so good -- compelling, riveting, entertaining and thought-provoking  -- that you're likely to forgive its trespasses on the spot.

This engaging filmmaker/provocateur (shown at left) -- Day of the Beast, Perdita Durango (aka Dance With the Devil), La Comunidad, Dying of Laughter, The Perfect Crime -- enjoys forcing us to confront some dearly-held notions that's he has turned upside down (here it's our take on the Spanish Civil War) and then played out (and out and out: there's that length problem again) until we cry uncle. His penultimate film, The Oxford Murders (well worth seeing and now streaming via Netflix) seems at first oddball for de la Iglesias because it is so cerebral. But even in its intelligence, it manages to go over the top (and into too-lengthy territory) before hurtling us to the brink of brilliance and insanity.

The Last Circus begins with a scene of enormous shock quotient, done with amazing skill: You'll hardly be able to take a breath for the fast few minutes, so fast and furious do events, bullets and bodies fly. (Machete waving has rarely seemed such fun.) From here, we skip ahead in time and are introduced to three characters who remain with us throughout the film, growing, changing and keeping our mouths agape.

This threesome is played by Carlos Areces (shown above), Antonio de la Torre (at right, center -- from last year's SCN film Gordos and many more of our favorite Spanish movies) and Caroline Bang (below, swinging). I don't think I am giving away the store when I say that you can view them, respec-tively, as the Repub-lican left (passive variety, for awhile), the Fascist right, and Spain herself. That's if you want to do the "symbols" thing, and as The Last Circus is definitely an anti-war movie, go ahead. Yet it is also such an eye-poppingly wonderful piece of visual art and a humdinger of a story, feel free to consider those symbols at a later date.

I could go on (and on -- just like de la Iglesias) about this terrific movie, but as Magnolia Pictures has picked it up for U.S. distribution and wants no critical coverage as yet, I'll have to wait. (What? You thought this was a review?) Meanwhile, you can get the jump on that distribution at either of the film's Spanish Cinema Now screenings at the Walter Reade Theater: this Sunday, Dec. 12, at 6:40, and again Wednesday., Dec. 15, at 3:10.

For the full SCN schedule, click here.