Netflix streaming tip: CHANGE IN THE AIR -- Try Dianne Dreyer/Audra Gorman's unusual and quite beautiful bit of uplift

If you follow this blog at all, you already know how anti-organized religion TrustMovies certainly is. And yet, by the end of the 2018 film CHANGE IN THE AIR, now available via Netflix streaming, he had undergone about as close to a religious experience as he may be capable. And, no, we're not talking Jesus, Moses, Buddha or Muhammad here.

Rather, this very small but surprisingly expansive movie manages to gift us with the kind of appreciation of our natural world and the people in it that few films even try -- let alone achieve. And fucking hell, in the midst of global warming, the most corrupt and incompetent political administration in my lifetime, the current global pandemic and, oh, let's see, what else? -- do we ever need right now something as joyful and caring as this film!

Director Dianne Dreyer (at right) and screenwriter Audra Gorman have concocted a tale of humanity put in touch with its most personal needs, desires, regrets and hopes in a manner of a kind of mystery. And, yes, you could even liken this film to one of those religious mystery plays or old -- made spanking new via an original combination of symbolism and art in which the otherworldly bumps up against the mundane, and in the process ignites a fervent understanding and appreciation of the wonders all around (and including) us.

The screenplay offers characters who are quirky but never beyond-the-pale and a situation -- a mysterious young woman appears in a small town and begins receiving each day a huge sack of mail all to herself -- that can't help but grab us. Who is she and what's going on?  That this character is played by an exquisite, ethereal Rachel Brosnahan (above), nearly unrecognizable from her Mrs. Maisel role, let alone that in House of Cards, will make this movie, for many, a must-see. And Ms Brosnahan is terrific, walking a fine line between symbol and reality with perfect grace and ease.

The rest of the cast is not only exceptional, each makes good on his/her storied reputation by offering a plethora of moments that are both believable and worth treasuring. The neighbors surrounding the house in which the Brosnahan character lives are played by Mary Beth Hurt and Olympia Dukakis (above, left and  right, respectively), M. Emmet Walsh (as Dukakis' dementia-addled husband, below),

Aidan Quinn as the local cop (below), and Macy Gray (shown at bottom, left) leading the local youth choir in a wonderful rendition of Leonard Cohen's Anthem that helps bring the film to a rousing, moving close, sound-wise, even as, sight-wise, we're treated to a beautiful coalescence of those symbols we've been viewing and considering.

Dreyer and Gorman offer us just enough explanation, without ever overdoing it, that we can take this and figure out what we need in order to -- just as does the movie -- come to some fruition. Nowhere is this more evident than in the lovely scene between Ms Hurt and the local postman (played so well by Satya Babha, below, left, that you'll want to see this actor again, ASAP), as the two of them surreptitiously open and read the mail that is being delivered and are slowly blown away by it -- just as you will be, too.

Why? Well, see this remarkable film and start mulling it all over. In addition, the way in which Change in the Air calls attention to and appreciation of our natural world is much needed these days. Bird lovers in particular should be thrilled by what they see. In that regard, a word must be said for actor Peter Gerety (shown below, right). I've seen this fellow in many films, but here he becomes indelible, giving a rich, real and lovely performance in the kind of supporting-actor role that doesn't come around at all frequently.

And then there's Ms Brosnahan. So different is she here from almost anything else I can recall that this alone ought to make you stick the movie in your Netflix DVD queue or streaming list.

Originally released in very limited theatrical fashion by Screen Media Films and running just 94 minutes, Change in the Air is available digitally now via Netflix and elsewhere for purchase or rental.

Hot man-on-man sex, loopy Christianity and Amazons-on-horseback converge on João Pedro Rodrigues' juicy THE ORNITHOLOGIST

Portuguese writer/ director João Pedro Rodrigues is not a guy who, moviemaking-wise, repeats himself -- except in the sense that every movie he makes turns out to be something of a what-the-fuck? experience.

From his early O Fantasma through Two Drifters and To Die Like a Man right up to his latest endeavor to reach our shore, THE ORNITHOLOGIST, the viewer (and just as often the main character) may imagine that he is on somewhat stable ground. Oh, honey: You're not.

The filmmaker, shown at left, does love to surprise us and so it is again here. He even (sort of) co-stars in his own film, turning it in the process into a kind of meta-moviemaking, as he portrays the older or maybe wiser or maybe just the alter ego of his protagonist, played by French actor Paul Hamy (shown below).

M. Hamy is blessed with a tall, muscular and rather amazing body, together with a slightly-Neanderthal face that's also sexy as hell. This is quite a combination, and the actor has what is, so far, his most major role. He inhabits every scene in the film and is, well, wonderfully watchable as he negotiates his journey from what begins as a rather typical, if long-distance and picturesque, bird-watching trip into something very much different and hugely bizarre.

The plot is actually a mere series of run-ins with new characters, yet each grows stranger as the movie rolls out. From a rescue by two lost and oddly religious Chinese girls, our "hero" finds himself trussed up and threatened with castration (below), suddenly involved with a very hot and naked young man (Xelo Cagiao, further below, at right) with whom he bird-watches prior to sex (it's always better in that order, don't you think?), is set upon by a group of Amazons on horseback (even further below), and finally encounters the twin of his former hook-up, even as he turns into... what? Wow. A religious figure? Or maybe the filmmaker himself.

Rodrigues' work is nothing if not mystifying. But it's also difficult to pull yourself away from, particularly if you're attracted to same-sex couplings, philosophy-cum-religion, mysticism, and stories so bizarre that they seem more like waking dreams than most movies you'll have witnessed (a second viewing of this guy's films is very nearly a requirement).

When, toward the finale, a character notes,"There are certain things you shouldn't try to understand," you will probably agree, muttering, "Yes. Like this movie." But I suspect you'll want to finish it nonetheless. Visually, it's a non-stop treat -- from the birds at the film's beginning to the gorgeous location photography (who knew Portugal had such lovely, verdant areas?), to the whoppingly watchable Hamy.

Saint Anthony of Padua figures into all this, too, but since I am not a scholar of religion, I can't offer much guidance there, except to say that the movie finally seems like some sort of journey of the soul (and body: thank goodness for M. Hamy!) that culminate in a rather sweet and surprising scene, especially given all that's occurred previously.

Seeing The Ornithologist made me revisit my earlier posts on João Pedro Rodrigues, during which I found my round-up of his earlier films plus an interview I'd done with the filmmaker back in 2010, in which he proved a most delightful explorer of his own work, of Portugal, and lots else. (You can read that interview by clicking here.)

Meanwhile, Rodrigues' latest work -- via Strand Releasing, in English and Portuguese with English subtitles, and running just under two full hours (you'll get your money's worth in mystification) -- arrives in theaters this Friday, June 23, in New York City, where it plays the IFC Center and the Film Society of Lincoln Center. It then hits Los Angeles (at the Landmark NuArt) and Chicago (at the Music Box) the following Friday, June 30. To see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters, click here and then click on Screenings.

Making birders of us all, Judy Irving is back with a new documentary, PELICAN DREAMS

Has it really been eleven years since The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill burst upon the documentary scene and turned a lot of us into the "birders" we didn't know we were? Hard to believe, as it seems like only a few years ago that those parrots landed. Now, the woman who made that excellent documentary, Judy Irving, returns with a new one devoted to pelicans. Nowhere near as brightly colored as those parrots (except, it turns out, when they are mating!), and generally quite a bit larger, too, pelicans are most noted for their huge bills and pouches, as well as for executing some amazing, straight-down-and-speedy dives into the sea for their next meal, which is a single dish: fish.

If you are one of those folk who think you prefer parrots to pelicans, maybe think again. It appears that Ms Irving's love of birds (the film-maker is shown at left) is so utterly contagious that she'll turn you into a pelican lover in no time. I suspect that, should she set her site on the life of the lowly sparrow, she would have us (and it) quickly eating out of her hand. (Now that I think of it, the sparrow has recent-ly been done; see Bird People, if you haven't already.)

PELICAN DREAMS begins with a grabber: a lone pelican (above) is found wandering and walking across the Golden Gate Bridge. (She will later be nick-named GG, in honor of that bridge, though her official moniker, as listed on her leg band, is Pink 193).

Once the bird is taken to a wildlife shelter, Ms Irving follows GG's progress at the same time as she begins giving us some wonderful information about the life of the pelican -- everything from how they change pouch and eye color (below) when mating to the purpose of the near-constant preening of their feathers.

Irving's smart, caring narration, coupled to some excellent cinematography, makes for a fine entrance into the world of this bird -- which does indeed resemble a flying dinosaur (which is how Irving thought of them when she was a young girl).

Along the way we meet some awfully nice teams of husband/wife wildlife caregivers, who add to our knowledge of both GG and several other pelicans who have been injured and will try to be brought back to flying life. We also learn about a special brand of pelican air conditioning, how the bird manages to get frostbite, the earlier scourge of DDT and the later one of oil spills, and finally the havoc that climate change is already wreaking on the pelican population.

If you enjoy limericks, there's a good one here about the bird, but there is also some bad news. From the combination of things -- overfishing and climate change, to name but two -- being a pelican in the 21st Century means starving to death. These birds can only handle small fish, but hunger makes them attempt the eating of larger sizes, as well as the pieces of unused fish that fishermen toss away. We see one bird rescued from choking to death on the oversize head of a salmon.

One of the most amusing/amazing sections of the film deals with a pelican named Morro, above, who has not been able to fly again, exploring for the first time the inside of the house where his keepers reside. This is special. But then, so's the whole movie.

Pelican Dreams -- from Shadow Distribution and running 79 minutes -- opens this Friday, November 7, in New York City (at the Angelika Film Center and the Lincoln Plaza Cinema) and in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal, Playhouse 7 and Town Center 5. It will also open concurrently in Santa Ana, Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz, Monterrey and Palm Springs, and in the weeks to follow will open all around the country. To see currently scheduled playdates, with cities and theaters listed, click here and scroll down.

Birdwatchers' alert: HBO screens Jeffrey Kimball's BIRDERS: The Central Park Effect

Making its debut tonight on HBO, from 9-10 pm (Eastern and Pacific times), BIRDERS is a sweet and infor-mative documen-tary about bird-watching in New York City's Central Park, a public place filled with so many human beings that the untutored eye would not expect to find a vast array of bird species. Yet here they are (granted, many of them stop off during their migration), captured by the camera and the flock of birders (bird-watchers) that the film's producer/director, Jeffrey Kimball (shown below), allows us to meet and even get to know a bit. A sure bet for bird-watchers, the program should also prove a generally delightful and informative 60 minutes for anyone with even a modest interest in birds, New Yorkers and Central Park.

Though we meet at least one famous birder (Jonathan Franzen, author of The Corrections and The Twenty-Seventh City) and another of whom birders may have heard (Starr Saphir, the septuagenarian matriarch of Central Park bird-watching), most of the people we encounter here are "just folk" who have a lot of interesting things to tell us and who open our eyes to the joys they've discovered via this evidently rather addicting hobby.

It can be quite addicting, Franzen notes, adding that he must do it, even though he knows he is using valuable morning work time that will not be returned to him again. But, no: "It's really just biophilia -- the love of the natural world," explains another birder, Jonathan Rosen.

Birders comes in all ages, colors and probably creeds, though thankfully, we don't get into the latter subject (there are undoubtedly some fundamentalists somewhere who would declare this hobby objectionable to the great one). Among of the most charming of the people we meet is Chris Cooper (no, not the actor: the black man shown above), who gives a wonderful explanation of why he does this and what he gets out of it -- his "seven pleasures of birding."

Another very pretty young woman, the fifteen-year-old Anya Auerbach (above,with binoculars), talks about feeling protective of the birds, and also of the "geek factor" found in how birdwatchers are often seen by outsiders. I don't think you'll see Ms Auerbach as any sort of geek.

So what about the birds? They're here, all right, from our standard pigeons and occasional hawks to the geese, the gulls and the more exotic of the migrating species. Above is a variant on the Scarlet Tanager, below a Black and White Warbler. One of my favorite shots is of a little duck stepping gingerly on the slippery ice of a mid-winter Central Park pond.

Halfway along these fast-moving sixty minutes, we learn some sad statistics: nearly a quarter of the Central Park species now show a 50% decline, and Starr Saphir has been diagnosed with terminal breast cancer. But she goes on -- following her joy of bird-watching and teaching others how -- and so do the birds, albeit in lesser quantity. Birders: The Central Park Effect is an hour well spent.

Making its cable TV debut tonight on HBO, the documentary will screen again multiple times, with more than 30 showings on various HBO channels throughout the remainder of July. It will also be available OnDemand from HBO through September 3, 2012. You can -- with a lot of effort -- find the various channels and showings by clicking here and then clicking on the word Schedule toward the bottom right of the screen and then clicking your heart out from here to eternity. Surely HBO could make finding all the showings of a particular program a little easier than this? Good luck.

David Frankel's THE BIG YEAR: that rare movie for birders arrives on DVD

Someone at Fox studios must be into bird-watching bigtime, no? Otherwise why greenlight a movie based around an activity (and that activity's "annual event") of which few in the mainstream audience will have heard or probably care. Still, Fox did it, and Trust Movies is glad -- for the result, while no ground-breaker or record-setter in any category, remains a very pleasant comedy with enough charm and laughs to entertain for its 100 painless minutes. Plus, it gives those of us who know little about bird-watching the opportunity to understand a bit of its quiet, though colorful, allure.

Directed  by David Frankel (shown at left, of Marley and Me and The Devil Wears Prada) and written by Mark Obmascik (from his book of  the same name) and Howard Franklin, the movie, which takes place over approximately one year, details the trials of three bird-lovers who hope to win the award for spotting the most rare birds within a single year. This means hopping from one part of our vast country to the other -- and even abroad -- to see and/or hear the song of the birds in question. Interestingly, this contest proceeds on the honor system, something that appears to have practically died out in the western world. (In the eastern? Forget it. Honor just means you can kill your sister for her infraction of being human.)

Because these "birders" are played by Owen Wilson (above, as the guy who already holds the crown for bird-spotting), Steve Martin (below, right) and Jack Black (below, left), it should be clear that we are in for some fun -- though all three of these fine performers, while exhibiting the stuff we have come to enjoy and expect from them, keep their worst habits in check, playing instead for some subtlety and humanity. Their characters (and their lives) are a bit more complicated than is necessary for mainstream. This makes the movie perhaps less "riotous" but a lot more bearable.

Almost a rom-com, the film does not finally provide the ladies on view with enough control or screen time to do more than stand by their man (for awhile, in one case; in the other, to first discover that he is her man). But the three -- JoBeth Williams, Rosamund Pike (below) and Rashida Jones -- do more thsn enough with what they are given.

No great shakes, the movie would not have called out for me to cover it were it not for its unusual theme -- which is treated decently, I think, right through to the end credits -- in which all 750-odd birds spotted that year are given a visual (albeit, a very brief one) on the left hand side of the screen, as those credits pass by on the right.  The Big Year is available now on DVD and Blu-ray (it looks smashing in the latter venue).