Romance and history get a good going-over in Jenni Olson's hour-long doc, THE ROYAL ROAD

A combination of California (and U.S.) history, lesbian confessional, geography lesson and meditation on the human condition -- who we are and what we want -- THE ROYAL ROAD, from documentarian Jenni Olson, offers a good deal of pleasure via its unusual tone: quiet, inquiring and a little sad. The visuals, too, are equally quiet, staid & beautifully composed via a stationary camera before which passes a parade of boats, cars, water, birds, but no people.

Ms Olson, too, goes visually missing from the movie, though it is her voice that narrates the film. I would have liked to have seen what our narrator looks like, but I am sure it was intentional that the director leaves herself, along with all other human beings, out of the visual mix. (That is she, shown left.) You can see and hear more of her by watching the charming and interesting interview with the filmmaker by Guinevere Turner and Rose Troche that appears on the Bonus Features of the new DVD -- which makes its debut this coming Tuesday, Sept. 6, via Wolfe Video.

From its outset, The Royal Road (that would be California's famous El Camino Real that links northern and southern California) tackles Olson's pursuit of unavailable women (we hear about an earlier would-be "love" in Los Angeles and then in Chapter Two, a more current one residing up north). At the same time the filmmaker goes into at length the history of California's famous (or infamous) Father Junípero Serra and his bringing Christianity to the early indigenous population. From there, we jump off into U.S. history, the Mexican-American War, the Louisiana Purchase, and the early colonization of America by the British, Spanish and French.

What do these two themes -- personal love and national conquest -- have in common? Perhaps the kind of hypocrisy that would deliberately choose would-be partners who are by their very nature (maybe straight, certainly married) unavailable, and deliberately refuse to see or understand a history in which a country practices war and genocide in order to expand its borders. (God knows, they never taught us kids any of that in my California elementary school history class. Maybe they do now.)

Whatever, Olson's honesty about both subjects is quietly bracing, and when at last she adds the famous Alfred Hitchcock movie, Vertigo, to the mix, the results are even more invigorating. Her final statement (or one of them) about what both she Hitch managed to reveal via their films is smart, funny and as engaging as all that has gone before.

Although much that we see and hear will probably be obvious to history buffs (and therapists who deal with folk who fail at relationships), I did learn some new things from the film: Did you know that both Abe Lincoln and Ulysses S. Grant were opposed to the Mexican-American War? And while I thoroughly love Vertigo, I had never made the connection that Olson makes about how the choice of the name of one of Kim Novak's characters, Madeleine, might be a nod to Proust. I also loved her idea that "the re-romanticizing of California's Missionary Era," occurred just as the state's tourism was burgeoning.

The film is full of just such contemplative and thoughtful asides, and those visuals -- a shot of the side of a Northern California house and driveway as the fog begins to roll in, a bird seen in the middle of an empty alleyway -- are so consistently interesting that you won't want to blink. (The fine cinematography is by Sophia E. Constantinou, while the precision film editing comes via Dawn Logsdon of the wonderful Big Joy.)

There is even a short side trip into the pros and cons of nostalgia, with the help of Tony Kushner. One might have wished for a bit more variation and energy in Ms Olson's narrative voice; on the other hand, it makes the film more personal because it's she who is speaking. All in all, if you're of a mind and in the mood for some quiet movie contemplation, you could do well spending 65 minutes with this lovely film.

From Wolfe Video, the documentary hits the street this coming Tuesday, September 6 -- for purchase and/or rental.

The Philippines Oscar submission: Jerrold Tarog's fact-and-fantasy epic HENERAL LUNA

If you didn't already realize it from the opening screen crawl of background and history (cluing us in to the fact that that we're about to see greatly fictionalized story-telling), when one character, in trying to describe the elusive personality of our titular HENERAL LUNA (General Luna, to you non-Spanish or Tagalog speakers), asks, "Have you ever tried to catch the wind?", I think you'll know that you're deep in the land of hagiography. And why not? The film's director, Jerrold Tarog (shown below), himself has described his work as an act of cinematic nation-building,

So, sit back, put your sense of actual history to sleep, and enjoy the old-fashioned, colorful storytelling and performances. If you're Filipino, the film will probably resonate on some level; if not, it will seem awfully by-the-book. It is weakest in providing the kind of specific details of character and dialog that could bring the film to some kind of vivid life. Instead we get the most typical cliches that show us the characters as heroic, cowardly, villainous, loving, waffling, and so on, down the line.

All this certainly makes its point (and also makes the movie completely understandable for school-children and, in fact, has seen major success by filling auditoriums in the nation's schools.). As the most successful independent movie in Filipino history, it also has made its mark as a huge box-office bonanza.

As the movie begins, our Heneral (John Arcilla, above and below) is already in command and quite successful at what he does. The time is just prior to the 19th Century turning into the 20th, as Spain has lost its rule over the Philippines, as well as the Spanish American War and so has "sold" the country to the USA -- which is about to make one of its early misadventures in would-be colonization.

As one character explains it nicely and precisely, "Americans fought for their own liberty. They know we have a right to ours. That makes their aggression inexcusable." All of which is true. But it's funny how power and hypocrisy can so easily turn right into wrong. From the start, Luna has big trouble uniting the various Filipino powers into an integrated whole, what with a weak President and cowardly, lazy, power-hungry underlings (including other generals) all over the place.

The movie takes as its framwork an interview of the General by a young journalist (played by Arron Villaflor, above) who questions his subject concerning the famous man's life and work, and so hands us a fairly standard scenario, enlived now and then by battles and/or politics.

Along the way, we get a mild sex scene between Luna and his paramour (above), and a couple of others between the man and his mom (below). Otherwise it's mostly military stuff: more battles, a little strategy, some gore (we watch as a soldier gets half his head blown off), and one montage showing the predations of the America soldiers against the Filipino populace.

Since Filipinos (and any Americans with a sense of history) will know the outcome here, we  pretty much wait for the good General to get his. When he does, Tarog gifts us with one of the great unintentionally comic death scenes on film, meant, of course, to show us our hero's indomitable spirit. This would be pretty much a disaster for most movies, but since Heneral Luna ends with the following escape clause, we can grin and bear it:

"The characters in this film may resemble real people from the past, but ultimately are products of artistic license. Historical figures, facts -- and even rumors -- were reshaped to serve a consistent narrative theme." Well, yes, and you could make that same statement about Reality TV.

From Abramorama -- running just under two hours, and spoken in Filipino, Tagalog, English and Spanish with English subtitles as needed -- the film made its New York debut last Friday and opens today, November 6, in Los Angeles and elsewhere.