A tasty documentary is turned inside out in Molly Dworsky/Dave Newberg/Zachary Capp's THE RINGMASTER

Who exactly is THE RINGMASTER of this eponymously titled new documentary? Seems to TrustMovies that there are actually four of them -- the most important being a Minnesota man named Larry Lang who is said (by many, many folk indeed) to have made the best-tasting, batter-laden, deep-fried onion rings in the whole wide world. Or at the very least in these United States of America. Larry is the ostensible subject of the documentary planned to be brought to fruition by a first-time filmmaker named Zachary Capp (shown at center, below, surrounded by what turns out to be this film's actual directors, Capp's friends Molly Dworsky, left, and Dave Newberg, right).

Mr. Lang (below) may be the ringmaster of those onions, and Capp of the documentary about them, but along the very bizarre, alternately funny and pretty damned sad journey that is this film, Ms Dworsky and Mr. Newberg must replace the original filmmaker. How and why make up the "plot" here, and quite a tale it turns out to be.

If onion rings are among your favorite food (as they are mine), I don't see how you will want to miss this movie and see and hear as those rings sizzle to a golden brown. (If only The Ringmaster were in Taste-O-Vision!) 

As filmmaker Capp determines to bring Lang's rings the acclaim they deserve, he and we viewers travel around the country watching various deals made so that the onions might become the "signature" food of important sport franchises, one of which is a certain famous football team who plans to move from Oakland to Las Vegas.

One major problem is that our Larry only wants his privacy and to be able to produce his rings in peace and quiet for whomever and wherever he happens to be working at any particular time. 

And, as we learn almost from the get-go here, our Mr. Capp is a reformed gambling addict, and addiction, as we are so often told, never dies. It simply sleeps, waiting for a new "something" to attract its attention and claws. For instance: filmmaking as a road to fame and fortune.

Yes, movie fans: In the long and varied history of hybrid documentaries, I think this one really does take the cake. Or the rings. Manipulation grows and does even more than its expected damage; even as we keep grinning, smiling and guffawing, the laughter begin to curdle in our throat. Onions are famous for making their chefs cry. So, I suspect, will be the case for viewers of this small-but-packed-with-observation documentary.

As the end credits roll, we learn the outcome for some of the folk we've met here. But what the rings themselves? Are they available anywhere now? Even as produced by Larry's sister Linda? Or are they to be consigned, as is so much else these days (including our country itself), to disappear down the river of full-out dementia? 

From 1091 Pictures and running just 88 minutes. The Ringmaster opens on digital and VOD platforms this Tuesday, October 6 -- for purchase and/or rental. (Even Gene Simmons and the band KISS get involved in all of this. Who knew?)

Felix Van Groeningen's BEAUTIFUL BOY tracks an extended family beset by a son's addiction

During the end credits for BEAUTIFUL BOY -- the new film from Felix Van Groeningen (who earlier gave us the much better and Oscar-nominated Broken Circle Breakdown) -- we are treated to some information and statistics about the horrendous addiction crisis going on today.

For some, this may serve to underscore the film's importance. For TrustMovies, this mostly seemed like old news -- as did the overlong and tiresome movie that preceded it. This end-title sequence also dropped some information about one of the film's two main characters that seems, given what we've just witnessed, at best surprising and at worst maybe a tad unbelievable.

The Flemish filmmaker, shown at left, who directed the movie, as well as co-wrote it (with Luke Davies, based on the memoirs of the father, David Sheff, and son, Nic Sheff, depicted in the film), draws the expected good performances from stars Steve Carell (dad) and Timothée Chalamet (son), as well as from the entire supporting cast.

The problem lies in the screenplay itself and the many incidents it chooses to offer us. Almost all of these are dour, if not downright negative, as though this poor family has had nothing but depression and mild-to-major trauma to contend with for most of its lifetime. Surely there must have been a few "good times" now and then? If so, you'd never suspect it here. Yes, the filmmaker tosses in a few very brief flashbacks, but they register as little more than standard cliché. After awhile, you begin to wonder why you would choose to spend much time with these dreary folk. That question never goes away for the nearly two-hour running time.

Dad (Carell, above) is a highly-regarded freelance journalist (we observe his credits in everything from The New York Times to Rolling Stone), who is clearly too controlling and pushy, though otherwise a pretty decent guy. Carell lets us see him, flaws and all. Son (Chalamet, below) comes through as pleasant, pretty, and a bit unsure of himself -- the last of which is only compounded by Dad's behavior.

The absent mom is played by the fine Amy Ryan (below), while the more easy-going and caring stepmom is essayed by the also fine Maura Tierney, with a drug-addled sort-of girlfriend brought to life/death by Kaitlyn Dever. The plot, such as it is, goes from on drugs to off them, on and off and on until the movie simply ends. While this is believable, of course, it is also tiring. And something we've seen time and again -- in movies (from The Man With the Golden Arm onward) and very likely at this point in reality.

Nic's degradation (below) seems real enough, as does dad David's reactions to it (occasionally the dialog does sound a bit too much like, "This is an important lesson. Are you listening?"). Otherwise, it's all OK. But little more. One's reaction to a tale like this really ought to be something other than Been there, done that.

From Amazon Studios, the movie -- after opening on both coasts a week or two back -- hits South Florida one week earlier than originally scheduled: today, Friday, October 26. Look for it at the AMC Aventura 24, Regal's South Beach 18 the Cinepolis Grove 15, The Landmark at Merrick Park 7, the Cinemark Palace 20, and Regal's Shadowood 16. Wherever you live around the country, click here (and then click on Get Tickets on the task bar atop the screen) to find the theaters nearest you.

Lauren Greenfield's documentary, GENERATION WEALTH, opens in South Florida

What a bizarre (but still somewhat absorbing) misfire is the new documentary, GENERATION WEALTH, written, directed and produced by Lauren Greenfield, shown below, who back in 2012 gave us another oddball, interesting and not entirely successful doc, The Queen of Versailles. The movie begins as some kind of warning/exploration about how our society is worshiping/pursuing the almighty dollar to the point of no return. Early on, we view an Asian ESL teacher making sure her clients learns the really important words: Louis Vuitton, Lanvin, Hermès and so on.

Then we meet a few of these "pursuers," including a couple of workaholic hedge-fund managers, one of whom eventually goes to prison.

Tossed in with all this is also a school-bus driver who travels to Brazil to get some major plastic surgery, a stage mother and her single-digit daughter intent on finding fame via beauty contests and maybe a reality TV show, and finally Ms Greenfield herself, along with her mother, husband, children and all their stories.

Focus is clearly not Greenfield's strong suit, and before long the viewer may be wondering whether the movie's title ought not have been Generation Workaholic (which would include both Greenfield and her mom), or maybe Generation Addiction (which could include just about everyone covered in this documentary, as each is addicted to something). We even get a small recap of the husband/wife who were the subjects of The Queen of Versailles.

Greenfield's movie is simply all over the place in terms of locale, subject matter, characters, and themes. Had she concentrated more firmly on any one of these, she might have been able to put together a cogent piece of agitprop. Instead the focus keeps shifting and slipping to the point that you may want to grab her script and take a red pencil to about half of it.

The way that Greenfield and her friends and family keep popping into the narrative is almost embarrassing. Had she made a film about this subject only -- her own sense of partial abandonment by her mother and the effect that has had on her life and that of her own family -- she might have had a subject worth tackling. (Her mom, who keeps smiling throughout, clearly would prefer not to think about nor admit to past mistakes.)

And for all Greenfield's would-be concentration on wealth and greed, this is hardly news to anyone who follows cultural/economic trends. Ditto the need for too much body enhancing surgery. And/or the quest for fame. By opting to cover so much by using so many, she weakens her theses and manages to give us both too much and too little at the same time.

Pornography even gets it due via ex-porn star Kacey Jordan, and we view a Bar Mitzvah complete with go-go dancer/strippers but by the end of this overlong documentary, nothing we hear or see registers as either original or even remotely bracing. I would say that Greenfield needed a better editor, but four of them are listed in the credits. I guess it really is the focus here that is most out of whack. I wish Ms Greenfield better luck next time.

An Amazon Studios Release and running 109 minutes, Generation Wealth -- after opening in our major cultural capitals a couple of weeks back -- hits South Florida this coming Friday, August 3. In Miami, it will play the Regal South Beach 18, AMC Aventura, and AMC Sunset Place. In Boca Raton, look for it at the Regal Shadowood.

A play becomes a movie as Kristjan Thor/Ashlin Halfnight's DIVING NORMAL hits Arena Cinema

I don't think you'd guess that DIVING NORMAL -- the new film directed by Kristjan Thor with a screenplay from Ashlin Halflight -- began life as a legitimate theater piece, so opened up and out is the finished movie, which now takes place inside, outside, and all around the town. The film does not seem stagebound in the least. However, given what we see and hear from this screenplay, I am not certain that the original theater piece was all that good. Two of the three lead performances go some distance in making the film watchable, despite a story and screenplay that seems heavily manufactured (and not all that believable, in any case) in order to reach, by hook or by crook, its mostly feel-good conclusion.

Co-producers Scotty Crowe (above, right) and Philipp Karner (above, left) also co-star as respective best friends, Gordon and Fulton, who end up attracted to the same beautiful girl, Dana (Susie Abromeit, below). The difference between them is that Gordon appears to have something like Asperger's Syndrome (he has a lot of trouble being "normal"), while Fulton is an A-1 player (this guy's trouble has to do with failing to be forthright where women are concerned). How and why Gordon and Fulton ever became such good friends would seem to contradict reality as most of us know it.

There is also, initially, what appears to be a physical attraction to Fulton on the part of Gordon, but this is not developed much past the need for maybe just friendship. Instead we get reams of angst and a backstory for poor Dana that could choke the proverbial horse.

When you have a group this problemed, it can be tiring, not to mention the near-constant need to put into play one's suspension of disbelief, as one of another of our threesome does something dumb once again. Along the way we get yet another of those ridiculous proposals/declarations of love in a public place -- this time a restaurant -- along with a couple of odd and violent scenes, to the point where we begin rolling our eyes.

Which is too bad, since the three leads are attractive and talented, particularly Mr. Crowe and Ms Abromeit. The former excels at appearing just a little short of normal while maintaining our empathy and understanding; the latter is just beautiful and real enough to make us wish her character were not so weighted down with every problem imaginable. Mr. Karner, stuck with the shallow cad role, does what he can.

Still, I was moved by the movie's ending, even if I didn't much believe anything that had come before. Director Thor, shown at right, does a decent job of  bringing the whole thing together and pacing it to ensure our continued interest. Diving Normal (the title has to do with Gordon's diving lessons at the local swimming pool) -- from Devolver Films and running 92 minutes -- opens this Saturday, January 10, for a week-long run in Los Angeles at the Arena Cinema in Hollywood. On January 13 it hits cable VOD, and on January 27 digital VOD. 

Ibogaine? In I'M DANGEROUS WITH LOVE Negroponte unveils its delights and frights

Boy, oh, boy: the stuff that's out there that most Americans will never even hear about! Ah, but thanks to the likes of First Run Features (the company that seems to be handing us a new documentary at least twice monthly), we've got the opportunity to find out. The distributor's latest (FRF's handling the DVD release, due in April; the filmmaker himself is distributing theatrically) is I'M DANGEROUS WITH LOVE from Michel Negroponte (Jupiter's Wife, Methandonia), which opens tomorrow. Another new FRF documen-tary, Plastic Planet (I'll have more on this one later in the week) makes its debut Friday. And just last week the company gave us the wonderful film about that 60s/70s activist/musician Phil Ochs.

During the 85 relatively speedy minutes of Dangerous/Love, Negroponte, pictured at right, introduces us to Dimitri Mugianis. This fine fellow, back in the 1980s, was front man for the band called Leisure Class (he's shown below in his earlier heyday) and as he sang and rocked, he also became increa-singly addicted to drugs and alcohol. Until fairly recently, that is, when he tried the experi-mental (illegal, of course, here in the U.S.) hallucinogen Ibogaine, derived from Africa's Iboga plant-- and promptly kicked his habit.

We follow Mugianis -- now a proselytizer for Ibogaine, as well a man willing to lead addicts through a kind of detoxification using the substance -- as he travels from a detox here in NYC to others (one in Mexico, and another humdinger of a dual detox involving two brothers from the south who now live in Canada).

Then we're off to Africa, where we meet a Bwiti shaman who helps Dimitri through an Iboga "initiation." If this last section of the film is not as enthralling as the first two thirds, chalk this up either to a little too much Carlo Castenda-style hooey, or maybe to TrustMovies' general aversion to all things religious, from the Catholic Church to Orthodox Jews, fervent Muslims, and psychedelically-inclined shamans. Somehow they all begin to reek of a tad too much fundamentalism and proselytizing.

As a filmmaker, Negroponte puts us in the midst of what is happening, and we're glued to it. Occasionally, he gets especially creative (above) and takes us into a moment or two of Dimitri's former trips. But why not, since drugs of so many kinds tend to provide hallucinogenic experiences? In Dimitri, he's found himself an amazing subject -- one who now puts all that energy from rock and roll into saving others from their own worst instincts. Just how does Ibogaine stack up, detox-wise?  One fellow, Eddie, tells us that it's like an "interrupter. It'll get you through the withdrawal, but then you have to have a plan: AA. Something."  The director himself gives it a try and says it's like having a new set of taste buds: he no longer urge to put nicotine gum -- which he's been chewing for 30 years -- into his mouth.

But Ibogaine's effect can wear off, as we see with "Tink," the one woman in the group who detoxes in front of us but, we learn later, returns to drug use. The result can be temporary, and even Negroponte admits at the end of the movie that he's gone back on that nicotine gum. Still there's something here, as medical science, even here in our own country (forward-looking scientifically but backward morally and socially), is discovering. Check out, for instance, the website of Dr. Stanley Glick, Ph.D., M.D., of Albany Medical College, a link given me by the filmmaker.

After speaking with Negroponte briefly (that's he again, above, with his Gabon "assistant" at left, and Dimitri lounging at right), I discovered that many more Americans than I suspected may already know about Ibogaine, due to a cover article some weeks back in the Village Voice (and probably in another dozen city newspapers, thanks to the V V's owners now manning so many of these weeklies around the country). In any case, for film-goers interested in furthering their knowledge and growth, I think the movie is more than worthwhile. For anyone struggling with (or who is close to anyone struggling with) addiction, it's a must.

I'm Dangerous With Love opens tomorrow, Wednesday, January 12, in New York City at the IFC Center (click here for dates and showtimes). It'll be out eventually on DVD from FRF.