Nudity, sex, dance (and a little psychology) combine in Boaz Yakin's unusual fim, AVIVA

If I can help it, I will never miss a film by Boaz Yakin. This fascinating, accomplished director and writer (not always within the same film) has given us a raft of good movies, with each of his directorial efforts in a different genre. What his films have in common, seems to me, is their placing an outsider at the center and having him/her eventually -- often at great, if not pyrrhic, cost -- win the day. His latest, AVIVA, as per usual, is not simply in another genre; it mashes up several into something that seems pretty much sui generis.

Mr. Yakin, shown at right (some years back), is always as interested in content as in visuals, but Aviva may be the most visual of all his films, even if not nearly his best.

There's a stunning shot of hands on mugs on a table early on followed by several of the kind of memorable images that, when you think of this film later on, you will probably call to mind -- one of which appears just below. (His cinematographer this time around is Arseni Khachaturan, with film editing by Holle Singer.)

For a good while during this film, thanks to everything from the very hot looking men and women, the copious amounts of nudity (often male and full-frontal, prudes be warned), the sex scenes, the openness to both hetero-and homosexuality and the enormous contribution of dance (much of it quite good) to the film, this seemed to TrustMovies to be the most fun he has had at the movies all year. Then, somewhere around the midway point, repetition begins to set in (along with the nagging sense that there is less here, content-wise, than meets the eye and mind), and Aviva comes subsequently only fitfully to life. Though when it does, it can still prove pretty magical, off and on.

The problem, to my mind, is that the movie's strengths and weaknesses go hand in hand with its director's own, because, I suspect, this film is giving us Yakin's own story and struggle. Although there are four actors credited with playing, sort of, two roles -- that of the titular Aviva (both the female and male versions) and Eden (again, the male and female) -- really, I think, these are all just sides of Yakin himself, who wrote and directed the piece and who is clearly struggling with identity, sexuality, commitment, growth and all the rest of it. (Who of us is not? Though some of us maybe don't realize this yet.)

The biggest problem here is that Yakin seems to identify most, and understandably so, with the male version of Eden (played by a most attractive and nicely hung actor/dancer named Tyler Phillips, above, who is making his movie debut) and who has to deal throughout with a kind of hang-dog attitude in which guilt, coupled to the inability to rise above this and grow up, leads to his growing tiresome and beginning to bore the bejesus out of us. He waffles and he wavers and he can't commit and he's pretty much of an asshole, overall.

While the female Eden, played by Bobbi Jene Smith (above, center left) rather echoes her male counterpart, Ms Smith at least supplied the choreography and some of the fine dancing, she also supplies a lot more energy and pizzazz than does Mr. Phillips, and so watching her is not such a drag. She, along with her companion and co-choreographer Or Schraiber (see below) also appeared together in the 2017 documentary, Bobbi Jene.

The title role, female version is essayed by an attractive and appealing Russian-born actress, Zina Zinchenko (above), while the male version is played by hottie, dancer and co-choreographer (the aforementioned Mr. Schraiber, below), who brings a vast quantity of sex appeal and dance knowledge to the proceedings. (Don't worry if all these sexes and characters seem confusing. Eventually they run together into a kind of sameness, some of which is no doubt intentional on the part of Yakin; the rest of it simply follows.)

Dance is just about everywhere here, and sex is, too. (To his great credit, the filmmaker does not stint on the homo over the supposedly more important role of the hetero, the point being that it is all one.) The production design is spectacular, with locations in Paris, New York and Los Angeles. Unfortunately, the word love is tossed about so carelessly and often that you'll realize the filmmaker -- like so many of us -- is perhaps vamping, while he learns the meaning of the word.

And when, toward the end, a character screams out, "Please! We can't do this anymore," you'll probably agree. At a near two-hour running time, shorter would have been better. Particularly when that male version of Eden is, to use Bill Maher's description of Donald Trump, such a "whiny little bitch." Still, as with just about everything Yakin has given us, when it's good, it is so good, that I would watch it all over again.

From Outsider Pictures and Strand Releasing, Aviva, in all its too-long glory, will hit virtual theaters this coming Friday, June 12. Click here and then scroll down to find the virtual theaters across the country in which the film will play. (There will be a free live-stream Q&A on Saturday, June 13; Sunday June 14; and Saturday, June 20. Click here for more information.)

Dreya Weber excels in Ned Farr's tale of airborne friends and family, THE AERIALIST

The team of Dreya Weber and Ned Farr have made several films together: The Gymnast, A Marine Story and now, THE AERIALIST, which is the first of three I've managed to see. If the other two are as good as this one, I'll have to take a look. It's always a wonderful surprise when a movie you've agreed to watch (but are not expecting much of) turns out to be not merely OK but a lot more than that.

Mr. Farr (shown at right), who wrote and directed the film and also served as its editor, has done a terrific job of assembling all the parts of what is basically a backstage drama involving a group of backup dancers/ aerialists for a highly successful singer known as Aurora.

We don't meet Aurora until the film is nearly over, yet her importance and power hangs heavily over everything and everyone -- especially over Jane (played by Ms Weber) -- the older woman in charge of these backup dancers/flyers and herself a major performer, who we learn from the film's first scene is experiencing the failure of her body to hold up to the demands of her job.

Concurrently, there's an overly snoopy reporter (Morgan Bradley, above) intent on getting a tell-all interview with Jane, along with what looks like something even more personal.

Meanwhile, Aurora's always-in-the-shade daughter Paloma (Victoria Meade, above, center) who is supposed to act as her mother's voice during rehearsal, continues to give the troupe problems, which are only squared by the arrival of a fellow named Xavier (Kelly Marcus, below), a sleazy young man suddenly hired to "run" the troupe, while sowing further dissension among its ranks.

How all this is handled proves surprisingly cogent, sometimes funny and often moving -- thanks to the acting (from everyone on board), and the writing and direction that rarely underscores, instead using a relatively light hand and enough subtlety to keep us moving quickly, enjoyably along. Even if you easily figure out where the reporter's story is headed (as I did), this ought not become a problem because there is so much else going on to keep you involved and caring.

The film's ace-in-the-hole, however, is Ms Weber (above and below), who possesses a face that Farr, his cameraman (Alexandre Naufel) and we simply love. Happy, sad, active and/or in performance, pain or repose, she is riveting -- with not one unbelievable moment in the entire proceedings. She is, as they say, a natural: strong, graceful and above all real.

Thankfully, the actual dance performance and aerial work we see seems to TrustMovies to be exactly the right amount. It's fun and sometimes beautiful but doesn't run on long enough to stop the story in its tracks. By the finale of the The Aerialist, you may find yourself saying aloud to each other, as we did, "Wow -- this was good!"

Distributed by Indie Rights, the movie -- running 102 minutes -- hits digital streaming this Friday, June 5, via Amazon. Click here for further information.

Fun from Mexico -- no kidnappings, minimal drugs -- in Manolo Caro's screwball rom-com, TALES OF AN IMMORAL COUPLE

If one purpose of movies is to take us away from the horrors and drudgery of reality -- all too evident these days -- young Mexican filmmaker Manolo Caro is certainly doing his job to a "t." His latest work, the first to find theatrical release here in the United States, TALES OF AN IMMORAL COUPLE  (La vida immoral de la pareja ideal), is quite the little charmer. In it, ex-lovers who first bonded during high school, meet again 25 years later and, sure enough, romance blooms anew, even as screwball comedy quickly rules the roost.

Señor Caro, shown at left, has created a trifle as adorable and pixie-like as he himself seems to be: full of fun and amusement, even as it probes themes as everlasting as love, sex and the meaning of fidelity -- with dollops of satire tossed in, the welcome objects of which are religion and politics.

His movie, while breaking little new ground, manages to cover the ground it trods with energy, sparkle and enough wit to keep us with it all the way. Its introduction into the kids' lives of heterosexuality, as well as homo- and bi-sexuality is handled well, too. Of enormous help to all this is the near-constant inter-cutting of past and present, as we see the couple as youngsters and then as adults.

The smart flashback-and-forth conception (by Caro) and on-the-mark editing -- from Yibran Asuad (Güeros and We Are the Flesh) and Miguel Musálem -- helps keep the pacing swift and fun, while the excellent ensemble cast (pictured on poster, top, and above) help bring each character to amusing life.

As the two love-struck kids, Sebastián Aguirre (above, right, from A Monster With a Thousand Heads) and Ximena Romo (above, left ) prove lovely, sensitive and youthfully ignorant, while Manuel Garcia-Rulfo (below, left) and Cecilia Suárez (below, right) bring the pair to more hesitant, suspicious and cynical adult life.

Supporting characters -- kids to adults -- are specific and funny, as well, while Caro's plotting brings us pleasantly and fairly speedily to a close, at last solving the mystery that will be foremost in viewers' minds: How come these two "seahorses" remained apart for so long? You'll find out, and I suspect the answer will satisfy you every bit as much as has the fun leading up to it.

From Hola Mexico and running a just-right 91 minutes, Tales of an Immoral Couple opens this Friday, August 25, nationwide in limited release. In the Los Angeles area, look for it at Laemmle theaters and elsewhere. Click here (and then click on THEATERS on the task bar midway down) to see all currently scheduled playdates, with cities and theaters listed.  But be careful and maybe check with your local theater before heading out, as some of these supposed playdates appear not to be happening....

Chris Mason Johnson's TEST--about dance and life and AIDS and connection--opens in theaters

Below is TrustMovies' coverage of a film first seen at last year's GLBT festival at the FSLC. As it opens theatrically today in several cities, I'm running that coverage once again. For anyone interested in modern dance, GLBT issues, or simply well-made movies, this is a film worth seeing.

TEST

written and directed by

Chris Mason Johnson

After 2008's The New Twenty, one of the best ensemble movies of the past decade, filmmaker Johnson now turns his attention to a period piece. But of a special period: San Francisco in the mid 80s, as AIDS was ravaging a portion of society and a "test" for the infection/disease was just now becoming available. TrustMovies didn't realize, until he saw this film and then did a little research, that Mr. Johnson began his career as a ballet and modern dancer. Most of the men in this movie are dancers, as well, as the dancing we see here is pretty damned good, particularly that of the lead actor/dancer, Scott Marlowe, who creates a rather indelible character in this, his first film role. 

This is such a different kind of movie from Johnson's earlier one that I doubt most film-goers would realize that the same man directed both. Test concentrates very much on Mr. Marlowe's character, Frankie, and his growth and change as both a dancer and a gay man. The rest of the ensemble is very good -- Johnson knows how to cast and then draw fine performances all around -- but this is Marlowe's movie. 

The young man (above) is indeed a fine dancer, riveting to watch when he lets go. As an actor, he also knows how to keep his character close to the vest so that we hang on each expression and word, as Frankie negotiates friendship, sex, solo work and maybe even a little "love."

At 90 minutes, Test is just long enough to work as an interesting character study; a look at a lost, fraught period in gay history; and as a paean to dance and dancers. I can't wait to see what Mr. Johnson turns his hand to next. 

Meanwhile, Test opens today, Friday, June 13, in Atlanta, Key West, Los Angeles and New York. Check your local listings for the theater nearest you -- or click here for currently scheduled playdates, including cities and theaters. Additional note: Test is now available (as of June 17, 2014) on DVD. Click this link for more info.

Alan Govenar's YOU DON'T NEED FEET TO DANCE introduces a bubbly NYC immigrant

You may not need feet to dance, but you do need a less heavily-accented voice to narrate your movie about an exceptionally energetic, positive-thinking emigrant from Guinea, West Africa, in New York City. The subject of Alan Govenar's new documentary is a fellow named Sidiki Conde, who, as a child, contracted a case of polio that left him with tiny, thin and mostly useless legs and feet. How he contends with this handicap -- in fact, turns it into something uniquely his own, as he negotiates his way around the city (of course, he lives in a fifth-floor walk-up apartment) managing to earn his living by making music and dance while teaching others with handicaps -- is the meat of this inspiring and surprising film.

The last time we wrote about filmmaker Govenar, shown at right, he was covering, rather beautifully and nostalgically, the beat generation in Paris in his documentary The Beat Hotel, using all sort of interesting film techniques to bring back Ginsberg, Burroughs, Corso and their ilk in those good old Left Bank days. His new film could not seem more different, as the camera, all in color this time, remains on Sidiki and his immediate surroundings almost every minute, as this sexy, funny and utterly vital fellow acts as our tour guide and narrator of his life here in New York City.

It's as narrator that I might have wished for more, mainly in the form of English subtitles with which to decipher his words. I certainly understood many of them, but key words and phrases along the way were lost in his lilting but often fudgily imprecise pronunciations. (Maybe the eventual DVD release will provide those subtitles.) Meanwhile we have energetic visuals to sustain us.

Mr Govenar begins his film as Sidiki awakens and starts his day with a bath -- his strong, muscular torso clearly makes up for his lack of useful legs and feet -- then dressing and winding his way down those five flights and off on his way to the local Mosque. (He's Muslim and so we see him praying along with the other men; "He's an inspiration to me!" notes the Imam.)

Indeed this is a man for whom nearly everything seems both doubly strenuous and yet, given his positive attitude, somehow uplifting. A friend insists that Sidiki is not disabled because he can do all things that others can do. Yet this seems a little too Norman Vincent Peale.  He tells us of his history, and we see a few old photos, but mainly the movie concentrates on the now, as he teaches classes for the handicapped, practices his music and does some busking on the city's streets and in its parks.

Toward the end, we learn how old the man is, and it's a surprise. Given his looks and his energy level, I would have guessed ten, even twenty years younger. (His outfit also suddenly changes from red to blue, indicating, I would guess, that a new day has dawned.) In the final few minutes, when he speaks of his now dead mother, the movie at last wraps us in some deep feeling.

Early on we learn, unless I misunderstood what he was telling us, that the man's own children are dead ("I didn't have enough to give them a life"). While I think that Govenar might have probed more deeply and uncovered more layers to Sidiki, I also suspect that M. Conde prefers to keep things on the level they remain: light, inspirational and uplifting.

As the movie goes along, you'll become aware that we have not yet seen Sidiki dance. When the moment finally arrives, I have to say it is a bit of a disappointment because, as energetic as his dancing is, it also makes you realize how important to dance is the lower half of the body. I'm happy to have learned of Sidiki, and hope I'll someday see him on the street or busking in the park, so I can approach him, thank him for his life and work and put some money in his basket.

YOU DON'T NEED FEET TO DANCE, from First Run Features and lasting 88 minutes, opens this Friday, March  22, in New York City at the Quad Cinema. Though this is the only currently scheduled playdate, as with other FRF films, this one, too, should eventually be available on DVD.

DVDebut & dance-buff's delight: NEVER STAND STILL--Dancing at Jacob's Pillow

A don't-miss for dance enthusiasts and in some ways an even better film than Wim Wenders' wonderful Pina (and a good deal better than the recent dance competition thriller First Position), NEVER STAND STILL: Dancing at Jacob's Pillow proves a worthy addition to the canon of fine films about dance. Narrated by Bill T. Jones (though in truth there is very little narration), the documentary is comprised of a wide variety of smart, enthusiastic talking heads and an absolute cornucopia of terrific (and relatively lengthy, for a change) slices of actual dance from various companies both modern and classical. And all there at Jacob's Pillow.

Directed by Ron Honsa (shown at right, with Marge Champion, another ex-dancer of note, and now dance-champion in ways other than her name, who also appears in the film), the movie offers a wonderful smorgasbord of ballet, jazz-inflected, and contemporary dance via dancers and their companies from all over the world. There's even one terrific number reflecting social dance as performance art from the Mimulus Dance Company of Brazil (the photo below is by Guto Muniz). Beautifully photographed by newcomer Jimmy O'Donnell and vet Etienne Sauret and edited with joy and precision by another newcomer Charles Yurick, the film is able to capture these varied performers and styles remarkably well, giving us a real treasure of a view of what's going on in modern dance now, along with a look at the current and aging masters of the form.

We also get some nice historical footage of our country's ground-breakers in this field, including Ruth St. Denis and Ted Shawn -- the man who began Jacob's Pillow as kind of dance school, retreat and theater, all of which it has remained, while flourishing and growing with our changing times. (The photo below is of his famous Men Dancers, performing Kenetic Molpai.)

Although the documentary moves quickly (it lasts barely 75 minutes), the filmmakers enable us to truly get a sense of the art and style of each performer and/or troupe they capture via the direction, cinematography and editing. In this sense, it's an appetizer whetting our palate for more from each of the performers -- which include everyone from Rasta Thomas and his Bad Boys of Dance to The Suzanne Farrell Ballet (shown below), Mark Morris, Joanna Haigood, The Royal Danish Ballet, Judith Jamison, along with several others.

Another pleasure of the film is hearing various choreographers -- Merce Cunningham, for instance -- discuss their work, what they love and what they go after in their dances. We also, again, see enough of that work to actually understand and appreciate it. One of the highlights here is Paul Taylor, talking about then and now, as we watch his splendid company perform.

Never Stand Still is a gift for dance aficionados; if you count yourself among them, see it. Distributed by First Run Features, the DVD hits the streets this Tuesday, July 17, for sale, rental and probably, semi-soon, streaming, too.

SCN: In THE DANCER AND THE THIEF Fernando Trueba mixes genres...

...and falls on his face. But very artistically: This is a mighty pretty movie. THE DANCER AND THE THIEF (El baile de la Victoria) is also the one full-fledged clunker of the Spanish Cinema Now series. Why? Let me count the ways. Its mash-up of genres -- the way it conflates the prison movie with the heist movie with the thriller with the romance with -- yes! -- Flashdance with the hostage film, with National Velvet is, well, unusual, to say the least. That almost none of this makes good sense, let alone works as cinema, is bizarre enough. Eventually, it almost seems as though the co-writer and director Fernando Trueba had so many stories and plot strands to work out that he decided, if he just kept going, things would somehow find closure. But no: They just get screwier. And while this approach makes the movie a very long haul, it does not help it coalesce.

Señor Trueba has had what we might call a checkered film career, a lot of it in Spanish television. After working for some years, he produced and directed Belle Epoque, which unaccountably won our Best Foreign Film in 1994. It wasn't bad, but it also wasn't that good. He went on to make one somewhat enjoyable financial flop here in the U.S. (Two Much), then bounced back, in Spain at least, with some OK movies like The Girl of Your Dreams, Calle 54 and The Shanghai Spell. And now here we are with this fine mess.

I could detail the plot for you, as certain reviewers never fail to do, but I swear, you would only say, "What?" So I will just note that the film leaps off from a day in Chile (rather than, as I had formerly stated, Spain: thanks Patrick, for your comment, below) where some sort of prison "amnes- ty" is given, in which certain prisoners, figured to be non- violent and who have served a portion of their term, are released. Ricardo Darin (shown above, right, and bottom, left), the fine Argen- tine actor, plays one of these: a world-famous safe-cracker. Ano- ther young man, Ángel (called "Cupid" by the prison staff, played by the cute, round-faced actor Abel Ayala, shown just above) who has evidently been raped by the prison warden, is also released. Do their paths cross again on the outside, along with that of the warden? Ah, you've seen a few movies in your day!

Other paths cross, too. The dancer of the title (played by Miranda Bodenhofer, above) makes her appearance very soon, with her own back story about the "disappeared" that could choke a horse (maybe the one in this movie!) and has already been used in a number of other films. That naughty warden keeps weaving in and out, and in one of the movie's least believable moments, though he imagines his life is in danger, he takes a public bus home from work. Well, maybe Spanish prison wardens make no money. Or perhaps we can chalk it up to the needs of a poorly-imagined screenplay. The co-writers, by the way, are Antonio Skármeta and Jonás Trueba (Fernando's son), so we'll let them argue over the script's many (de)merits.

Overall, the movie, though dreadful, is watchable due to the gorgeous cinematography of Julián Ledesma, of whose work we shall certainly being seeing more, and the crazier-by-the-scene genre mash-up, which I admit begins to provide some dumb fun. And don't even try to figure out the ending: My "take" is that they're all in heaven and that the friendly condor is really god. The Dancer and the Thief plays one more time, tomorrow, Saturday, December 19, at 6pm at the Walter Reader Theater.