Meet a Russian throwback: Julia Ivanova's FAMILY PORTRAIT IN BLACK AND WHITE

Family. What a loaded word. And how varied are the situations used to cover that word. One of the odder and more problematic families you're likely to meet this -- maybe any -- year can be found in the new documentary from Russo-Canadian filmmaker Julia Ivanova, who wrote, directed, shot and edited FAMILY PORTRAIT IN BLACK AND WHITE (her brother Boris Ivanov produced it). In it we meet Olga Nenya, a middle-aged woman who lives in the Ukraine and has 27 children, only four of whom (all now adults) are hers biologically. The other 23 have been adopted over the years, and of those, 16 are bi-racial -- in a country that is 99.9% white. (The hearts of many of those 99.9, however, if we can believe what comes from their foul mouths, are black as pitch.)

Mrs. Nenya's heart may not be so lily-white, either. One of the strengths of this most interesting and thought-provoking documentary is that, while never overtly pushing or prying, it still manages to get beneath the skin of its protagonists, including Nenya and a number of her children. Filmed over a three-year period during which the filmmaker, shown at right, and her crew spent two months in 2008, two more months in 2009 and a final month in 2010 with their subjects, because of this wide space of time, we are able to see the children grow and mature, problems crop up and then sort themselves out (or not) and attitudes change.

The film begins on a ugly note; footage of the cretinous slobberings of a group of skinheads (eastern Europe is notoriously racist). These people appear again during the movie and what they say about what they do (and how the local police -- some of them, anyway -- approve of this) is horrible, certainly terrifying for any person of color stuck in this country. Yet Olga (shown above, back row, center, as well as three photos below) and her crew of kids seem safe enough -- if they stick to the "plantation," as it were.

It's on this plantation that most of the problems arise. The kids, white and colored get along with each other quite well; it's with Olga, as the children grow and mature, that divisions crack the happy facade. Kiril, the oldest boy (above) -- intelligent and surprisingly autonomous -- wants to pursue a school for and a career in arts and music. Olga has other ideas. The results of their clash has consequences intended and not.

Sergey (above, right) a white child, comes from bad foster parents, and his words of praise for Olga strike home as both truthful and deeply felt. "My other foster mom was unfair. She ate meat and potatoes, while we had overcooked pasta with sugar. This mom eats what we eat!"

Some children, Andrey and Maxim are two such, have learning disabilities and/or anger management problems and so must go to special schools or be placed for a time in a psychiatric hospital. To see Andrey sobbing because mom must leave him is heartbreaking. Later, to hear him talk about the "treatment" they gave him at the hospital is more like horrifying.

For whatever reason, we hear about and get to know more of the boys than the girls, though we do see plenty of the girls (as in the shot above). Their stories may not have seemed as forceful or telling as that of the boys, or perhaps the filmmakers do not see them in as much danger from crazy white Ukrainian "machismo" as are the males.

What we do see, however, are some of the adoptive Italian families with whom the kids spend a part of their summer each year and who want to permanently adopt these children. Maxim is clearly in love with his adoptive Italian father (above) and grand-dad (below) but as he is only nine, Olga will not let him be adopted to Italy. She calls these Italians "strangers," but is asked how they can still be considered strangers after several summers of parenting. (This seems to be one of the only times the filmmaker intrudes with a question or objection.)

Eighteen-year-old Anya (shown below with her adoptive Italian family) is happy to leave permanently for Italy, which Olga sees as a betrayal. But the girl is of age, so it becomes her choice, and she makes it. And yet, on balance, I can't imagine that most viewers will not find Olga and her work worthwhile and helpful to the kids, and to the country she and they occupy.

Young Kiril hits it on the nose, I think, when he tells the filmmakers, "Our family resembles a totalitarian, Soviet regime. And that's how our mother likes it." Olga is a throwback to a former time, the period in which she herself grew up and which, on some level, she clearly identifies with -- and misses.

Family Portrait in Black and White -- 85 minutes from First Pond Entertainment -- opens this Friday, July 13, in New York City at the AMC Empire 25, with a limited national release to follow.

Family values done right: Ella Lemhagen's PATRIK, AGE 1.5 opens at Quad & NuArt

The beauty of PATRIK, AGE 1.5 -- easily the best gay-themed movie since Brokeback Mountain (though not nearly as sad and dark) -- resides in how fully its writer/director Ella Lemhagen (shown below) takes her rather standard sit-com situation and brings it to wonderful, thorough life.  Once you understand the premise here, though it takes about a third of the film to set it up, there will be no doubt about where the film is headed nor how things will work out. Yet, so interestingly and believably does Ms Lemhagen twist and turn the events within her story, that this outcome proves utterly satisfying.  Here's a feel-good movie that earns every last bit of its good feeling.

Ms Lemhagen accomplishes this via a route that's smart and less-traveled. Her movie is an adoption story about a gay couple (Gustaf Skarsgård and Torkel Petersson, both exceedingly fine actors) who profess to want a child and are proceeding toward that end through the usual bureaucratic government maze (even in Sweden, this is standard, I guess).  When said child arrives and the problems begin in earnest, instead of solving them all via one-on-one father/child confrontation/resolution, the movie take a different route.  Progress is made more via the oddball community-at-large, with the boy Patrick (a smart, slow-to-show-feeling performance from Thomas Ljungman, pictured below, right, and two photos down) making use of his background to bond cautiously with those around him, and warming up but very slowly to his dads.

The fathers themselves have some major problems that only begin to emerge when the kid comes upon the scene.  These ups and downs are handled particularly well, with the writing and direction (both by Lemhager, from a play by Michael Druker) alert to the psychology of these characters. Consequently there is not a situation or line of dialog that rings false -- quite an accomplishment for this genre of film.

One of the fathers was earlier married and has a daughter who is clearly still coming to terms with her dad's "desertion" and sexual preference.  His ex-wife is around, too, and forms an interesting bond with her ex-husbands' new partner.  This extended family, plus various neighbors and workplace personnel, finally forms an entire world, full of the surprise, pleasure and pain found in all of our lives.  This proves the key to the great success of Patrick, Age 1.5.  Better than most movies tackling gay themes, it makes this life seems real and "normal," with it's own set of "family values" every bit as relevant, necessary and right as those of any other family. And it does this without special pleading or sentimentality.  It simply shows and tells it like it is -- for this particular set of characters.

Homophobia, by the way, is ever-present in this scenario -- sometimes obvious and sometimes not.  So deal with it, Lemhagen and her cast and crew seem to be advising us.  It will not disappear, but may in time grow less.  This film takes a big step in moving us toward that time.

Patrick, Age 1.5, from Regent Releasing, opens today, Friday, August 6, in New York City at the Quad Cinema, and in Los Angeles at the NuArt.

Rodrigo Garcia's MOTHER AND CHILD is the American film of the year so far

Is there a more humane and attentive (particularly to women) filmmaker than Rodrigo Garcia? On the basis of the three full-length films he has written and directed: the new MOTHER AND CHILD, Nine Lives and Things You Can Tell Just by Looking at Her, I would doubt this.  When I first saw "Things You Can Tell" (back in 2000 -- Señor Garcia, in addition to doing a lot of work for cable television, seems to gift us with one full-length film every five years), I swore that it had to have been made by a woman.  I did not believe a man was capable of understanding, not to mention communicating at such a personal level, so much about women's lives.  Wrong.  That was my first experience -- a memorable one -- with a Garcia film.

Then came Nine Lives in 2005, another winner, and now Mother and Child, in which the filmmaker (shown at right) surpasses himself.  Which is saying something.  From the first image on the screen -- no dialog here -- we are pulled in to one of the oldest stories on earth but in a way that seems fresh and specific.  When the dialog starts, it is every bit as fine as those images: direct, real, neither spare nor profuse but exactly what is needed.  His theme here is what you would expect from the title, yet, although the routes Rodrigo takes to bring that theme to life are twisty and interconnected, his film-making style is simple and quiet.  He never shouts, though his characters sometimes do.

Several sets of characters overlap here: A physical therapist (Annette Bening, at left) who lives with her aged, sick mother (Eileen Ryan); a relatively young, hotshot lawyer (Naomi Watts, below, right) taking a job in a prestigious law firm owned by Samuel L. Jackson (below, left); a young couple (Kerry Washington and David Ramsey (shown two photos below and at bottom) who hope to adopt an about-to-be born baby from a young unwed mother (Shareeka Epps).  Of course, these people connect eventually (some are con-
nected already), yet plot is the last thing you will be worrying about because each incident is so well-
written & performed that the movie quickly takes on its own sense of wonder, as one splendid scene follows another, and another.

Yes, we have seen all this before, and yet Garcia makes it new.  Death that comes suddenly and quietly.  A sex scene as hot as any you'll have viewed of late (except perhaps Eyes Wide Open), in which the couple stays fully clothed. (More important here is how the female's need for control is played out in her sexual behavior.)   When a new character (essayed by the always fine David Morse) is introduced, we know immediately who he is without any explanation except the brilliant moment-by-moment acting by Ms Bening, who nails her abrasive, sad, needy character and then ever-so-slowly begins to let her breathe.

Ms Watts, too, is exceptional.  She at last makes good on the pro-
mise she showed us in Mulholland Dr.  She's always been believ-
able, but her subsequent career has so far had to do with mostly mediocre roles she's been asked to play (Le Divorce is an excep-
tion -- and an exceptionally misunderstood movie).  It was clear she had it in her, and here she lets it out -- in a role to die for.  Jimmy Smits is wonderful, too.  He's aging well, putting on a bit of weight, and growing into a stalwart older man. When Bening asks him, "Where did you come from?" you'll know exactly what she means.

Elpidia Carillo (above, in the center of the threesome), Elizabeth Pena, Amy Brenneman -- all alumni of the Garcia oeuvre -- do fine work for him again, along with Marc Blucas, S. Epatha Merkerson and Cherry Jones, to name but a few in the large, first-rate cast.  I should think there are very few really good actors who would not jump at the chance to work under this exceptional filmmaker, whose special ability is to bring out the best in everything to
which he connects. 

The subject of adoption and the need for the birth mother/child reunion has been done to death, so it is even more surprising how moving and important Garcia makes it.  (The film this most reminded me of is the under-seen but very sad and dear Loggerheads.)  How nice that the deep feelings that keep welling up in you come from the characters on view rather than from any melodrama. Given the situations here, melodrama would be easy, but the filmmaker manages to avoid it. This is the secret of Garcia's success. He hardly needs a "plot."  Instead, his full, rich characters -- fired by specific, meaningful dialog -- simply take over the film and run with it.  (The writer/director also handily incorporates the way we live now -- class, immigration and so forth -- into his scenario.)

Mother and Child, from Sony Pictures Classics, opens this Friday, May 7 in New York and Los Angeles. A nationwide limited rollout will follow. To call this the perfect Mother's Day movie (which it is) still sells it short.  It's the perfect Father's Day film, too.  If dad could
but rise to the occasion that Garcia presents, he'd learn a whole
lot more about mom.

On-Demand: THE OVERBROOK BROTHERS; John Bryant's film amuses and illuminates

Surprises dot John Bryant's sneaky little movie from its very start, as we're thrust into medieval times to watch two men about to be put to death for doin' the nasty -- on each other. And then the next surprise occurs. THE OVERBROOK BROTHERS is a modern-day tale of a modern-day family, which is to say this is not quite the set of relatives that most of us will have experi-
enced. So as not to ruin those surprises, instead of giving away plot twists, lets concentrate on some of the themes that Mr. Bryant is addressing -- from the brotherhood of man (in a number of odd ways) to creativ-
ity, love, sex and even maybe religion. For now that TrustMovies thinks about it, that snake that makes an entrance toward the finale may possess a bit of religious symbolism, whether intentional or unconscious on the part of the moviemaker (shown below).

That Mr. Bryant's very first scene has to do with homosexuality is no accident, I think, for the film is chock-a-block with gay references and gay terror -- the kind felt by straight men who haven't a clue what to do with those feelings they're having that don't exactly fit into "straight-man" territory, which is to say (and I suspect that this is the movie-maker's point) most straight men.  For, make no mistake about this, the director and co-writer (with Jason Foxworth) is dealing here with guys who are predominantly heterosexual, though these two may be a tad farther along that Kinsey scale than either of them realizes or would want to admit. 

The Overbook Brothers turns out to be a kind of road movie and much of our time is spent traveling with brothers Todd (played by Mark Reeb, shown at right, above and below) and Jason (Nathan Harlan, shown at left, above and below) as they attempt to track down one of those aforementioned secrets that have recently spilled out.  Along with them comes Jason's girlfriend (Laurel Whitsett).  This threesome comes closer than you might think to another such -- the two guys and a girl from Humpday -- that created an indie fuss last year. Except that these two "brothers" actually do a lot more exploring of their feelings, sexual and otherwise, than do the two men in Lynn Shelton's more obvious but, for me, less honest movie.

Identity (and the loss of same) also figures into the mix along with the question of what it is that makes us "family."  Mr. Bryant handles his themes surprisingly well, I think, never pushing them on us but making sure they explode, with humor and surprise, out of his rather bizarre plot.  Things get pretty crazy (well, hey, much of the film is set in Texas) but they never quite vacate the realm of possibility.   Finally, along with the surprise, humor, exploration and discovery, comes a quiet poignancy.  I am happy to declare that Mr. Bryant and his cast never push this, either.

The imagined episodes ---one of which is shown above -- are handled with economy, style and wit, as well.  Available from IFC's Festival Direct On-Demand program, The Overbrook Brothers can be found via most major TV-reception providers.  Click here to discover if yours is one of these.

Nicole Opper's OFF AND RUNNING covers adoption, track, color, class & sexuality

Documentarian Nicole Opper, shown below, explores so much (see headline above) in her new -- and very short (75-minute) -- movie OFF AND RUNNING that my reactions are split. I am grateful to have had the chance to meet this fascinating family: two white lesbian moms and their three adopted children -- the mixed-race Rafi (about to head for college); black Avery, just finishing high school and a budding track star; and their adorable little Korean brother, nicknamed Zay-Zay. But the final film seems to demand a longer, maybe more ragged but telling version: one that is not so cleaned-up and precise as what we have here.

Let's not do that "gift horse" thing: What we get is thought-provoking, entertaining and moving enough. Just knowing that such a family ex-
ists -- and that its parents are rai-
sing this fine group of kids -- is exhilarating and hopeful. Ms Opper gives us some (though not enough for me) background on and conver-
sations with her two moms, each with her own adopted child, who met and formed their own bond and then adopted a third child together.

When we enter this history, daughter Avery (below) is about to make her first effort to contact -- with some success -- her birth mother and will soon discover that her original name was Mycole Antoinysha. Though she excels at track, and is bright and popular,  "For years," she tells us, "I've felt out of place around black people." Her best friend at school, also of color, is an adoptee as well.

Off and Running is a very warm documentary. Its images, and especially its characters, are often beautiful; it's easy to love them all. And Ms Opper has chosen a number of telling moments to show us: Avery and brother Zay-Zay reciting a Hebrew prayer at bedtime, scenes between Avery and her boyfriend Prince, and especially the scene in which Rafi reads Avery a letter that he might send or say to his own birth mother, as a way of helping his sister with her situation. The effect here is heartbreaking but also intelligent and thoughtful. To say more would spoil some of the surprise in store.

So much happens in the course of Off and Running and yet I had more questions upon its conclusion than I did at its start, and I think this is because Ms Opper has opted for slickness and sanitization over reality. Not that anything in her film seems necessarily false but that too much of it comes off as arranged and very organized. There is clearly a lot going on once Avery connects with her birth mother, and she and her moms (shown above, center, and center right, and below in earlier days) allude to such trouble and tsuris occurring within the family. But we see none of it actually happening. In fact, much of what we do see in the documentary seems utterly tranquil; it is after the fact, when there has been time to consider what has happened and comment upon it, that we hear about anything negative. While the comments by all concerned are highly evolved and thoughtful, a bit of mess-in-the-moment might have made for a more balanced presentation. (It would also have entailed showing these characters in a sometimes less positive light -- which they would probably not have enjoyed.)

Does it sound like I am asking for another American Family situation like we got with the Louds some decades back? I wouldn't want that, either. So I'll be simply be grateful for what the movie gives us -- which is never less than riveting -- while realizing again how a good fictional account can fill in and expand a film's proceed-
ings to encompass the weirdness and the vagaries of "real life."

Off and Running opens -- via First Run Features -- this Friday, January 29, in New York City at the IFC Center.   You can find further playdates, theatres and cities here.

All photos are from the films itself (except that of Ms Opper) and come courtesy of  First Run Features.

THE SHAME, David Planell's parenting film, winds down Spanish Cinema Now

Parenting, respon-
sibility, guilt and growing up are among the several themes tackled by one of the best entries in this year's FSLC roster of Spanish Cinema Now, which draws to a close tomor-
row. THE SHAME (La Vergüenza), written (with the collaboration of Santos Mercero) and directed by David Planell (below), although it is tightly focused on a "family" of four (husband, wife, soon-to-be-perhaps-adopted child and the housekeeper/nanny), its breadth eventually reaches out to include a large por-
tion of society, from public utilities to social services.

That Señor Planell is able to accomplish this within the time frame of a single day makes his movie even more impressive. It seems a "normal" day yet contains almost everything that will decide this family's fate. How the filmmaker connects his people and events is artful and smart, with almost no dependence upon coincidence and everything instead proceeding from character and need. The one symbolic moment of decision and release might seem too much -- were it not for the possibilities remaining for both good and bad to come out of this latest turn of events (including the turn of a faucet).

Opening with the clock radio informing us of "the death of four workers, with an investigation pointing to" -- and then Mom turns the radio off. Not that this investigation would ever lead to anything concrete. What is concrete is that Dad finds himself in the middle of a shower when the water goes off -- for the third time in a month. That, and the family's Peruvian maid (above right), who, it appears, has been stealing. Or not. Most concrete of all is Manu, the young boy with some severe behavioral problems that this twosome may soon permanently adopt.

A dental appointment, a report due for school, a birthday party, money and a wristwatch gone missing, lunch to be made without any water, the glue needed for a chair repair, and a scheduled visit from the social worker (above, right) in charge of the adoption: All these sound like juggling pins to be kept aloft in some kind of farce. But in the hands of Planell, they become part of a wonderfully rich day of discovery and change.

The Shame is the kind of movie in which everyone is trying his best -- and failing -- with the responsibility that of both the individual and the system. Trying to make up for past mistakes, while commendable, does not seem particularly productive. And deceit seems necessary but equally unproductive. Planell has created his movie in nearly real time, with events telescoped only slightly and the up-close camera work lending a documentary feel to the events that we witness.

The cast of (basically) five -- mom, dad, son, social worker and nanny -- is peopled with actors who seem especially attuned to the needs of this story. As the father, Alberto San Juan (above, right), last seen in SCN two years ago in Under the Stars and Casual Day, is one of Spain's leading men most fearless about emotions and the showing of them. Everything -- from his sudden temper to tears, fears and joy -- is within San Juan's reach. As Mom, Natalia Mateo (above, left) offers an intriguing combination of need, aggression and protection, as she negotiates the Scylla and Charybdis of her husband and the social worker. In the pivotal role of the maid and nanny, Norma Martínez (below, left) is especially strong and effective, never more so than when, at last, she can let her hair down, symbolically and for real. As the troubled youngster, newcomer Brandon Alexander Lastra Cobos (below, right and just above, who will shorten that name soon, no doubt) is very good at remaining a mystery, even as we slowly warm up to the kid.

As much as everything has changed by the end of the movie, nothing is wrapped up, let alone with any neat bow. Life will go on, all right, but there are plenty more changes in store for this "family," including its fish. How will things turn out? This is the movie's strength: It sets up the problem, initiates as much growth as might be possible with these particular characters, and then adds a dash -- and only that -- of hope.

The Shame plays once more only: tonight, Saturday, December 19, at 8:30 -- at the Walter Reade Theater.