VODebut for George Russell's provocative doc about the uses of the internet, TROLL INC.

You may have heard or read about a certain internet troll named Andrew Alan Escher Auernheimer who goes by the alias of Weev. If so (or even if not), you're going to learn a hell of lot about him from the new documentary TROLL INC., in which Auernheimer plays a major role, acting as our host and guide through the thicket of internet trolling. TrustMovies admits he went into this film with a heavy bias against what he imagined to be the very negative/ugly/angry world of "trolling." Coming out of the doc, however, he felt both surprised and somewhat chastened at the realization that internet trolls -- some of them anyway -- might actually be serving a valid and important purpose by keeping the world's populace more aware of the how easily (often stupidly) we can be swayed by what we see and hear online.

As produced, directed, edited and even partially photographed by a filmmaker new to me named George Russell, the movie begins with an introduction to Weev (shown above and below) and to what internet trolls do and how they do it -- with an emphasis more on the positive side of things than the negative, which can move from mere nasty joking to stalking, hacking and much worse. For instance, we're shown how, in Australia, the internet was able to defend its own community from government censorship.

Early on we're told that "computer security on the internet is shockingly, inherently insecure," and then shown examples of this, such as the Apple iPad/AT&T security scandal, which Weev and his compatriot Daniel Spitler, along with the "organization" known as Goatse Security, leaked to the world -- and afterward, as you'll learn, paid bigtime for their efforts.

We also learn of that infamous and bizarrely funny would-be scandal, Amazon-Hates-Gays-and-Is-Delisting-GLBT-products, that Weev foisted upon the world -- for fun and also to make us more aware of the nonsense that can be provided some of our major companies due to their lack of proper security on the internet.

To the film's credit, Weev comes off as both a kind of necessary prophet and an asshole. "Being a jackass on the internet is a real career," he notes at one point toward film's end. He's a genius of sorts but mostly a provocateur. But hearing the thoughts of and praise from his many friends and compatriots should give you pause. As one of them notes (the fellow who paid Weev's parole bail after his Apple/AT&T arrest), "I bailed him out, despite all the terrible things he's said, because he has a strict moral code."  I think you'll agree with this once you've finished the film. Another explains that Weev is truly "testing the limits of our Constitution's First Amendment."

We hear and see various experts on technology and digital culture (above and below), dip into the nostalgia of Occupy Wall Street, and even learn about something called Gayniggers from Outer Space. By the time you've finished this exceptional documentary, you may find yourself less inclined to believe (or even maybe care about) much that you "discover" via the internet, while simultaneously becoming more interested in and aware of security issues -- results that I suspect would please both filmmaker Russell and Weev.

Andrew Alan Escher Auernheimer may be one of the weirder documentary heroes you'll have encountered, but he is a kind of hero nonetheless. What happened to him post that Apple/AT&T event, legally and otherwise, makes for most interesting viewing. Where he resides now -- this we learn during the final moments of the film -- is even more so.

From Virgil Films and running a swift 79 minutes, Troll Inc. makes its VOD debut this Tuesday, May 22, via Vimeo on Demand, for rental or purchase. (It may be available elsewhere, too.)

First time on DVD! THE IT CROWD: The Complete Series -- from MPI Media Group

Watching one of British television's (hell, television from anywhere) great series, THE IT CROWD, which ran from 2006 through 2013, proves just as spectacularly funny and off-the-wall an experience today, via the new DVD release of the complete series from MPI Media Group, as it did discovering it for yourself via the various sources it has graced down the years since its debut. If there is a single drawback, that would be the crass and stupid laugh track that accompanies it -- and which seems even louder and more crass now, sometimes nearly drowning out the delightful dialog, than it did a decade ago when the series made its debut.

The product of a very creative, talented and probably slightly unhinged writer/ director named Graham Linehan (shown at left), the show mixes to marvelous effect the talents of this funny fellow with those of his just-about-perfectly tailored cast of three leading actors plus several excellent supporting ones. Add to this the choice of the ideal workplace and occupation: the IT (Internet Technology) department located in the scuzzy basement quarters of a major corporation that seems to produce nothing and is run by perhaps the most obtuse, narcissistic and hilarious of bosses (think a British version of Donald Trump, if that sleazeball idiot were at all -- except for his appearance -- funny).

How all this works together for maximum effect -- silliness (based closely enough on reality to smart and sting) goosed into great, hilarious mountains of humor that arrives equally from character and situation -- is the stuff of legend. The cast, most of whom have gone on to some renown, includes Chris O'Dowd (above, center, and at bottom), Katherine Parkinson (above, left, and below) and Richard Ayoade (above, right, and at bottom)

Among the great episodes (there are many) is the one about the speech having to do with the Internet, in which one of our trio actually shows the audience the Internet itself! This is, I think, one of the funniest episodes I have ever seen because it makes such great use of so much that we think we know (and don't know) about the way we live now, while providing its characters (and actors) with the juiciest of moments to run with. And, oh god, they do.

A word must be said for subsidiary actors like Matt Berry (above, as the boss) and Noel Fielding (below, as, well, you'll discover who he is), both of whom add such bizarre and memorable moments to the show.

I do wish this amazing series could be separated from its god-awful laugh track. But I suppose we must be grateful for what blessings we have. And those, my friends, are copious indeed.

The new Five-Disc Boxed Set of the complete series hits the street this coming Tuesday, November 1, from MPI Media Group and includes the entire four seasons, plus the stand-alone program, The Internet Is Coming, which has never before been available here in the USA -- and is every bit as funny and wonderful as all that preceded it. Extras include a very nice 16-minute interview with Linehan and his cast.  

Werner Herzog's look at the Internet age: LO AND BEHOLD, Reveries of the Connected World

As someone who runs hot (Into the Abyss) to lukewarm (Cave of Forgotten Dreams) regarding the work of Werner Herzog, TrustMovies would call his new documentary, LO AND BEHOLD, Reveries of the Connected World, one of his better endeavors. In it, this peripatetic filmmaker, whose interests seem to be about as vast as our universe, concentrates on some of the ways our world has changed and continues to change thanks (and sometimes not) to the impact of the Internet.

Herr Herzog, shown at right, is present here, as so often, not only in the visuals he's chosen to shoot but in the interviewing and narration he supplies. He questions his subjects but lets them go on into whatever tangents might interest them (and him, and us). He has divided his doc into something like ten chapters, beginning with The Early Days -- in which he gives us the chance to meet and enjoy web pioneer Ted Nelson, whose remembrance as a child of the way water worked around his fingers is quite lovely and profound -- to his final chapter, The Future, in which he notes how all our movies and TV shows got the future so wrong. No flying cars, space travel or aliens -- but something nobody quite managed to imagine back then: the Internet!

It's this kind of notion -- charming, surprising, observant and wry -- in which Herzog excels. In between the beginning and end of his new film, the filmmaker covers all kinds of odd and interesting stuff. One chapter is devoted to the dark side of the Internet, with one particular family and their terrible history shown front and center.

We also see and wonder at people today who can (sometimes must) avoid the Net: those allergic to cell phone towers and frequencies. We are made privy to what might be the end of the Net, as well (solar flairs, anyone?). We meet some smart hackers (Kevin Mitnik is one of these), hear and see Elon Musk talk about possible life on Mars (his view is thoroughly demolished by one smart woman), meet some intelligent robots and watch them work, and even hear from the man who invented the self-driving car.

It's all thoughtful and fun and occasionally scary and moving, too. Overall, this is one of Herzog's loveliest, most discursive (in a good way) and far-reaching works.

From Magnolia Pictures and running a just-about-right 98 minutes, the movie opens all across the country on Friday, August 19. In New York City, look for it at the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center; in Los Angeles at Landmark's NuArt, and here in South Florida at the Bill Cosford Cinema in Coral Gables and the Lake Worth Playhouse in Lake Worth. To see all currently scheduled playdates, with cities and t heaters listed, click here.

Zachary Donohue's THE DEN: a movie that on-the-run video and found-footage were made for

If ever an idea and its execution -- via today's anyone-can-make-a-cheap-video philosophy -- resulted in the perfect marriage, it's THE DEN: a genuinely involving, horrendously creepy and all-too-believable horror film that profits hugely from its on-the-run look. So involving, in fact, is this little movie, directed and co-written (with Lauren Thompson) by newcomer Zachary Donohue, that yours truly forgot to take a single note during its unfurling and so must rely on his fading memory of the evening several months back when he and his spouse watched it.

Now available via Netflix streaming, the film should not be passed up by anyone interested in this genre nor by any young filmmakers looking to learn just what can be accomplished inexpensively and very well via sharp writing and editing, committed performances, and direction and pacing (by Mr. Donohue, shown at right) that is almost always on the mark. I cannot tell you how many movies of this ilk, beginning with the grossly over-rated Blair Witch Project, I've had to sit through, angry and bored, to finally discover one that works this well, while using all the usual stuff -- computers, cameras (hand-held, security and computer-embedded), the Internet, sex and slashing -- but using it with speed and smarts.

The basic plot has to do with a young woman named Elizabeth (Melanie Papalia, above and below), who wants to tackle -- as her graduate project, I believe -- a study of the habits of webcam chat users. Well, why not? We're in the modern age, and so we need to know what kind of world all this "Internet distancing" is producing.

Once Elizabeth gets the go-ahead, she either stumbles upon (or is set up to do this) a site called DenChat.com and then to a murder seen on video, and when she attempts to alert the authorities, the killer targets not just her but her lover and friends. Nasty.

Soon we realize that Elizabeth (along with her computer and her home) has been thoroughly compromised, and as the net tightens around her, the suspense and chills maximize.

In just 81 minutes (the same length of Blair Witch), the filmmaker keeps us glued with hardly a frame that is not used wisely and well.  By the finale, you'll have been put in mind of a number of other movies (especially, I think, Demonlover), yet The Den should prove memorable in its own right.

From IFC Films and available on DVD, the movie can also be streamed now via Netflix and elsewhere.

Very important documentary debuts -- Brian Knappenberger's THE INTERNET'S OWN BOY

Two of the year's best documentaries have hit theaters in as many weeks. Following Code Black's foray into health care and emergency rooms, we now have upon us the story of how our government went after one of our most promising geniuses of modern technology, the Internet and the progressive movement -- a young fellow named Aaron Swartz, who, when threatened hard enough with prison and heavy monetary fines, and because he was, I believe a kind of genius with all the baggage, much of it heavy and difficult, that this state often entails, committed suicide rather than face an incarceration that probably would have sent him over the brink, if and when he found himself behind bars.

This is another shameful episode in our current administration's very checkered history, in which, as someone in the movie points out, the powers that be would rather go after whistle blowers attempting to right current wrongs (a good case can be made for Swartz's being exactly that) rather than doing the more difficult work of going after the criminal banks and Wall Street businesses that brought upon this country an economic crisis so vast and horrendous to the middle and lower economic classes that we may never surmount it.

THE INTERNET'S OWN BOY: The Story of Aaron Swartz, written and directed by Brian Knappenberger (shown above) tends, I suppose, toward hagiography because so many of the people involved here knew, loved and respected young Swartz so immensely. After you see this fine documentary, I suspect that you will, too.

I knew very little about this fellow, shown above and below, when I sat down to watch the documentary. In fact, though I had heard his name bandied about over the past few years, it was not until his suicide that I paid much attention. But I am so grateful to Knappenberger and his crew for allowing me to enter Swartz's world and better understand who he was and some of the amazing things he had accomplished by the time of his death (he was only 26).

Knappenberger gives us Aaron's history -- how he was reading well at three years old, and growing up with computer, programming, email and all the rest. Though we get a clear sense of how bright, quick and to-the-point the young man was, we don't really see much of his weak points or how difficult he probably could be at times. This may be unavoidable in a documentary that aims, as much as anything else, to be a memorial to the man. Often brilliantly done, it moves fast (even given its 105-minute running time) with almost no flab attached. Everything we see and hear merits our attention.

We're able to grow and learn along with Aaron, as he becomes the better known wunderkind of adolescence and young manhood. We meet his brothers and parents, and some of the famous folk who helped guide him, and even a couple of the young women to whom he grew attached. Early on, he dedicated himself and his skills to progressive politics, uncovering massive privacy violations in our court documents, so that the courts had to change their policy.

When he learned how difficult and costly it could be to obtain these legal documents that were supposedly available to people, he set about making these documents available free, first incurring the wrath of those who profited by charging for them, and then the government agencies like the FBI (which eventually dropped the case).

When he set up his own computer to download (or maybe it's upload: I'm not that tech-savvy) files from MIT, he was caught, and the government went after him again, this time more forcibly. Yet even under this kind of duress and stress, Swartz continued to rally around progressive causes, most particularly the fight to stop SOPA (the Stop Online Piracy Act, which, if pushed through as law, might have halted freedom of the Internet in a single swoop). Thought to be unstoppable, SOPA was something Aaron organized to fight. And he won.

As the evidence grows of how our government effectively bullied Swartz into suicide, the documentary will make you increasingly angry and sorrowful to see destroyed one of the most creative minds of the younger generation -- a mind and body bent on helping our country and its citizens. Overall, though, this is a wondrous, rich, often funny history of a very special person. What a character Aaron was, and how many brilliant ideas did he have! Mr. Knappenberger has indeed given "the Internet's own boy" a fitting memorial.

The movie -- from FilmBuff and Participant Media -- opens in theaters this Thursday, June 26, in Los Angeles at the Sundance Cinemas, West Hollywood. The following day, Friday, June 27, it will hit New York City (at the IFC Center) and another dozen locations, and will reach another seven cities in the weeks to come. You can see all currently scheduled cities and theaters by clicking here and scrolling down the page. On VOD, you can screen it from your couch starting Friday, June 27, via Vimeo On Demand, iTunes, Amazon Instant Video, Google Play, Movies On Demand, VUDU, X-Box Video and Sony Entertainment Network.

DVDebut: In WE LIVE IN PUBLIC, Timoner tracks humanity's least human connections

Smart, prescient people, particularly those who have understood and profited by the rise of the World Wide Web, seem endlessly fascinating to movie-makers, if not to movie-goers. The latest -- and one of the best examples -- of this phenomenon is Ondi Timoner's whoppingly entertaining and thought-provoking film WE LIVE IN PUBLIC. (Ms. Timoner is shown below.)  Detailing the rise, rise, fall, fall and (hmmmm: we'll see) of smart/weird guy Josh Harris, her documentary touches all the bases and leaves us wondering what's in store, not just for Mr. Harris, but for all of us, as we become ever more web/computer-addicted and further estranged from our in-the-flesh connections.

We begin our tour of Mr. Harris, as his brother Tom explains how Josh ignored the family -- and his mother's -- request that he come home to join them because mom is dying. Instead he sends a video-gram (we see this; it looks shockingly cold) and refuses to appear in person. By the end of the film we have come round to viewing this video again, but now -- knowing Josh better, as well as his mom and his life -- we see it in a somewhat different manner.

The more we learn about Josh (above), the more we understand. Was momma drunk a lot of the time? Seems so. TV becomes life for the kid, and he grows up with Gilligan's Island replacing his own family;  later, in his office/work life, Josh seems to do the same, using a kind of imagined "Gilligan" version of people and events. Finally, having grown wealthy and even more bizarre, Josh resembles a latter-day Howard Hughes. "We Live in Public," however, is no "Aviator" -- and that's just fine.

We see Josh's alter ego "Luvvy" (above) whom he enjoys becoming -- in public, unfortunately -- which begins to tarnish the up-till-then, smart image of rich whiz-kid created by him and our PR-crazy media. Then arrives his biggest experiment -- Quiet -- an underground communal-living arrangement for an enormous amount of people in which every moment -- including sex, showering and other bathroom activities -- is captured on video.  Quiet becomes both the most interesting but the least realized portion of Ms Timoner's movie (the filmmaker also acts as narrator of her film).  Clearly, she had to be careful what -- and how much of it -- she showed, so even as we're seeing sexual twosomes or threesomes, we're titillated, aroused and then finally bored by this cinematic equivalent of constant coitus interruptus.

Her camera also seems, during this section, as flighty and all-over-the-place as are most of the partakers of Quiet. (Boy: talk about misnomers! The only scene that reflects the name is the one of the world's largest dining table, above -- prior to its being stormed by the diners.)  As even Quiet's own members point out, this was a kind of fascist society. Sort of.  And temporary. (Fortunately, all fascist societies are temporary.  I know: On some level all societies are temporary.)  But as Josh notes, "Everything here is free" And it is: the food, the rent, all the activities. "Except the video we capture of you.  That, we own."

The second day of the new Millennium, NYC police close down Quiet. (There is a rifle range in this huge underground concoction that can be heard from quite a distance, and the sound disturbs people.)  Soon after Josh grows close to one of his women workers, Tanya.  The two movie in together and so begins yet another in his series of bizarre interactive experiments: We Live in Public, in which every last detail of the twosome's life is on video, linked to the web and shared with whomever is interested.  Both Josh and Tanya seem delighted to be doing this.  (That's Josh showering, above)  Uh-hum. Can you imagine how long this relationship will last?

Unlike some other documentaries, in which the camera is kept going, no matter how horrible are the circumstances we're watching (Tarnation, for one), in the case of We Live in Public, this seems absolutely appropriate because the cameras are always running, in any case.  Could anyone handle this life of constantly being watched?  Perhaps, for awhile, depending on the level of that person's autonomy.  But Josh?  Hardly.  Soon everything,  including his fortune, implodes.

What happens post "Public" is every bit as interesting as what has come before.  Though the film ends around 2008 -- as Josh as gone from a worth of some 80 million dollars to less than zero --we can't help but wonder where and who the guy is now.  Don't, whatever you do, miss the final touch in the end credits: an absolute gem of "nothing ever changes, does it?"    

WE LIVE IN PUBLIC is out this month on DVD -- available for sale or for rent from your favorite video source.