With CHRISTINE, Campos, Shilowich and Hall offer a genuine, deeply-felt and honorable memorial to a talented, troubled young woman

Coming as it does on the heels of a documentary -- Kate Plays Christine -- that seemed to prove above all else how difficult and sometime pointless documentary film-making can be, the new narrative movie CHRISTINE succeeds beautifully in bringing to life a life that most of us (if we'd heard of Christine Chubbuck at all) knew only for the single act that "put her on the map."

In that regard, this movie is not unlike another excellent film that opened earlier this year, The Witness, that managed, at long last, to give us a look at Kitty Genovese in a manner that opened up her life into something much richer than the mere victim she'd seemed to have been down the decades since her murder. Rather than exploiting, both films honor their subject.

As directed by Antonio Campos (shown at left), written by Craig Shilowich (shown below) and

starring an actress who's currently as good as anyone performing in movies and TV -- Rebecca Hall (shown on poster, top, and further below) -- in what is, so far, the role of her career, Christine succeeds in creating a time (the mid-1970s), a place (a local TV station in Florida), and people (workers, friends, family, interviewees) that come together to form the kind of spot-on reality that narrative movies rarely get near.

This is the first attempt at screenwriting for Mr. Shilowich (shown at right), and as such it is not simply good, it's rather phenomenal.

The writer has packed in so much, and all of it germane, fascinating, and very warts-and-all in terms of not only Christine herself but of those around her. This allows us to see the positives and negatives clearly and to come surprisingly close to understanding who Christine was and how her surroundings worked with her personality to determine what happened.

Over the course of the film we learn so much about Christine -- everything from her virginity status to her relationships with her mother, boss, co-workers and especially the co-worker for whom she feels more than the normal attachment (played with his usual skill and subtlety by that fine actor, Michael C. Hall, below).

Via all of this, we come to understand Chubbuck as a terribly troubled yet talented young woman with rather heavily under-developed social skills. And so very good is Ms Hall is delineating all this that we quickly and hugely feel the embarrassment and naivete of this woman as she tries to work her way around and through various situations. Hall handles all of this so skillfully than not a moment registers as false or overdone. She keep us in her corner, even as she allows us to understand how that corner is so thoroughly fencing her in.

Hall has a large and often glowing face, but here she keeps the muscles in that face tightly coiled. Only when she is putting on the charming social-service puppet shows for the children she works with does she relax into those "puppet" roles to leave her constrained self behind. What a joy it is to see her suddenly liven and embrace! (Christine is not the kind of movie our "Oscar" Academy usually embraces, but I dearly hope its members gird up their loins and take a look, because quite a number of people involved with it deserve nominations.)

Around halfway along this two-hour film, my spouse noted aloud, "This does not seem like a movie." (More and more often these days, Spousie uses the word movie to double for the word fake. After we've watched something or other, he'll shrug and exclaim, "Yeah -- it's a movie.") Regarding Christine, he is so right. This is about as real as it gets. Mr. Campos, a director whose past work (AfterSchool and Simon Killer) I've enjoyed, does wonders here, using a documentary style abetted by what seems like a near-perfect production design, including period costumes, hair styles and sets.

The manner in which Campos and Shilowich and their actors capture the little TV station and its workings (above) may but you oddly in mind of its polar opposite, that glossily entertaining cable series, The Newsroom. (Or even better, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, which is used quite cannily and sadly here.) Campos' entire cast -- which include Tracy Letts (below, right) as Christine's adversarial boss, J. Smith-Cameron as her alternately helpful and trying mom, Maria Dizzia as her best friend who has her own necessary ambitions, and John Cullum, as the TV station's money man -- is first rate. There are no villains here, and no heroes, either. Just people living and working as best they can -- and doing a pretty good job of it, considering the circumstances.

In yesterday's New York Times there a fine article about Rebecca Hall and the making of the film, in which it comes out that Christine's brother refuses to see it because he feels that it is exploiting his sister. I wish he would reconsider, for this film is anything but exploitative. Christine is a movie that, during and after viewing, makes you look at things differently and understand them better. That's a tall order and it is served up here with intelligence, kindness and caring -- as expertly as you could wish.

The movie, from The Orchard and running 119 minutes, opens this Friday, October 14, in New York City exclusively at Film Forum. Elsewhere? Sure hope so, and as soon as further playdates becomes available, I'll post them here.

With THE STANFORD PRISON EXPERIMENT, Kyle Patrick Alvarez takes us back to the 1970s and some ground-breaking research

Kyle Patrick Alvarez jumped onto my filmmakers-to-watch list with his first film, Easier With Practice, back in 2009, appeared there again with his second feature C.O.G., and now, with his newest movie, THE STANFORD PRISON EXPERIMENT, must be moved to the favorite filmmakers category. Mine is a fairly wide-ranging "favorites" list, of course, but as concerns filmmakers who explore the male in modern American society, I find Alvarez one of the most interesting, perhaps one of the best.

If "Practice" and C.O.G. dealt with mainly one man (and a few of his surrounding friends or relatives), The Stanford Prison Experiment concerns a bevy of them -- students chosen for the now infamous experiment in which the subjects were placed in the confines of what appeared to be a kind of prison, with some acting as prisoners, the others overlording it as guards. The filmmaker, shown at right, and his screenwriter, Tim Talbott, use the appropriate documentary style to push us into their venue and make it seem utterly real. Very initially, the young men react as expected, joking and taking things none too seriously. It does not, however, take long before the young men acting as guards, goaded somewhat by those in charge of the experiment and told, falsely, that they were chosen based on their leadership qualities (in truth, they were chosen via the flip of a coin), begin to exercise that power that people in "policing" positions seem to feel is their god-given right. What happens after is shocking and powerful.

The experiment was to have lasted two weeks; it ended far sooner than that, as breakdowns, physical and mental, came more rapidly than the 'doctors' in charge could foresee. The man at the helm of the experiment, played with ramrod sternness by Billy Crudup (above, left), initially appears the primary villain. By the end of the film, guilt is not so easily or thoroughly placed, though the good doctor willingly assumes his share. The only woman on view is the doc's significant other, played well by Olivia Thirlby, who challenges her man and forces him to consider the gravity of what he's doing.

Among the prisoners and guards, an excellent acting ensemble is given the opportunity to shine, and there is nothing less than superb performances offered all around. As you watch the film, in fact, you may find yourself realizing that, had one of the most "put-upon" prisoners been assigned a guard role, he would have been every bit as ugly and hurtful as a guard as he is frightened and pleading as a prisoner. And of course, you wonder how you would have acted under these circumstances.

The film's (and the experiment's) ace-in-the-hole, however, is having an actual prisoner -- a black man (played beautifully by Nelsan Ellis, shown second from left, three photos above) who has spent years in San Quentin -- on hand to verify the "truthfulness" of the situation and the reactions of the men. This adds another layer of irony and reality to the situation, while also making for some superb theatrics.

In 2002, a fine foreign film titled The Experiment (starring Moritz Bleibtreu) gave us its own version of these same events, German style. More fictional, as well more suspenseful and exciting, this movie should make an interesting co-feature with Alvarez's new one. (In 2010, yet another version of the Stanford experiment -- also titled The Experiment -- was made starring Adrian Brody, which I have not seen).

After a limited and relatively short theatrical release, The Stanford Prison Experiment -- form IFC Films and running a lengthy 122 minutes -- hits the street on DVD this Tuesday, November 17, for purchase or rental.

In Alexandre Arcady's taut, unsettling 24 DAYS, France begins to deal with crimes against Jews

The year was 2006, with the event the kidnaping (for money) and then the torture of a young Frenchman, Ilan Halimi, Jewish and of Moroccan descent, as police and family unite to try to find and save him. The film that has been made from this true story, 24 DAYS, is an extremely unsettling one -- not simply because it deals with the kind of seemingly random, hugely unfair and mostly stupid and senseless crime -- but because that crime deliberately targeted Jews, even if, in this particular case, it was less religious fervor driving the kidnappers than that old saw that equates Jews with money.

As directed by Alexandre Arcady (shown at left and whose only other film I have seen is the pretty but so-so family crime drama, Comme les cinq doigts de la main, also know as Five Brothers and unreleased here in the USA), 24 Days is tension-filled and relatively fast-paced, tossing us into the lives of both the family (as it comes together to help retrieve its missing member) and the police force (who work around the clock to ferret out and apprehend the kidnappers). Known more for making pot-boilers than artistic, critically-approved movies, M. Arcady seems to have tamped down his penchant for mainstream excess and has delivered a surprisingly effective film that works on several levels.

24 Days taps into the fear and horror felt by Ilan's family, especially his mother, given a rich, layered performance from Zabou Breitman, above, right, with Syrus Shahidi, who plays her soon-to-be-missing son. (Ms Breitman, by the way, is also the director and co-writer of one of TrustMovies' favorite films: The Man of My Life.)

Pascal Elbé, left, uses his knack for strength, endurance and repressed emotion to make much of the character of Ilan's dad, whom the police use -- due to those very factors -- as the family member who must deal with the top-dog among the kidnappers.

Interestingly, Ilan's undoing was having gone on a date with a pretty young girl used as bait to entrap the boy, even though he already has a girlfriend/maybe-fiancee with whom he is heavily involved. Infidelity, however, is hardly an excuse for what happens to him.

For their part the police -- with Jacques Gamblin (above, left), Sylvie Testud and Éric Caravaca (above, right) in the major roles -- are shown as professional, caring folk, even if there appears, finally, disagreement among them as to what kind of crime this really is -- simple kidnapping-for-money or one inspired instead by race hatred. (The reason for the kidnapping can also effect how the police investigation is handled.)

The movie, to its credit, comes down on both sides, offering money as the main object of gain, but also showing how the treatment of Ilan -- casual torture, with the young man seen as something less than human by his kidnappers -- is most likely due to his being Jewish, and a helpless victim.

The film hones to a near-documentary style that shows us what is happening and how the rather large group of people involved in the kidnapping work together, under the thumb of its somewhat deranged leader (a frightening performance by Tony Harrisson, above). It also shows how easily the gang might have been tripped up had any of the locals -- who clearly knew that something nefarious was going on -- only come forward.

Unlike so many kidnap movies, this one offers none of the feel-good, nick-of-time resolution which we might expect or hope for. It seems to me that the film adheres as closely to the facts of the case as it can, and thus provides grueling object lessons in police procedure (good and bad), racism, family unity and the need for protection.

From Menemsha Films and running 108 minutes, 24 Days opens this Friday in New York at the Quad Cinema in Manhattan and the Kew Gardens Cinema in Queens; in Los Angeles at the Laemmle Music Hall; and in another dozen cities across the country in Illinois, Massachusetts, New Jersey and (mostly) Florida. Click here and scroll down to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters.

WELCOME TO NEW YORK: Abel Ferrara's puddle-deep look at the Dominique Strauss-Kahn affair

Dem mighty jus' keep on fallin'! From Gary Hart to Sheldon Silver -- and, oh, so many in between -- the supposedly powerful figures of the western world discover their own feet of clay, as the rest of us rejoice as much in their fall as we appeared to do in their rise. Certainly one of the more interesting of these figures is Frenchman Dominique Strauss-Kahn, the fellow who was appar-ently being groomed as the next leader of France, scheduled by the French "left" to take over after Sarkozy's upcoming ouster. Well, that didn't happen.

Why it didn't happen has been much conjectured upon, with very interesting and not so unlikely theories ranging from a set-up job by the opposing party (or maybe someone within Strauss-Kahn's own, or even the good 'ol USA) to the fellow's rather obvious proclivity for sodden misbehavior. In his new movie WELCOME TO NEW YORK, filmmaker Abel Ferrara (shown at right), while giving a nod here and there to economics, politics and social unrest, is really most interested in the "sex addiction" theory associated with our famous Frenchman, along with its accom-panying guilt and shame. Given Ferrara's oeuvre and obsessions, this is not surprising. What is, however, is how much of a major shrug his movie turns out to be.

Starring two well-chosen, senior-citizen movie-stars of talent and acclaim -- Gérard Depardieu (above, right, and below) as Strauss-Kahn (here called by the name of Deveraux) and Jacqueline Bisset (above, left) as his wife -- the film takes on immediate interest, if only for its smart casting. Beyond this, however, while not unwatchable, Welcome to New York grows tiresome well before it concludes.

As director, Ferrara, knows his way around camera-work and pacing, but as co-screenwriter (with Christ Zois, who often works with the director), he is never on particularly secure ground. Much of the dialog, though well delivered via its actors, sounds barely a cut above improvisation -- or the kind of expected blend of research and cliché that never probes deeper than surface level.

Further, Ferrara has decided not to stick all that closely to even what we know about the case itself. The film opens with Depardieu (as himself) explaining to the press something about how he tackles this role, and there is the usual disclaimer assuring us that, while the movie takes off from the famous case, what we're going to see is mostly made-up drama.

Consequently, the made-up maid supposedly attacked by Strauss-Kahn, looks little like the attractive and sexy real woman in the case. Nothing is made of anything politically, either (a shame, really, because there is enough juicy and oddball occurrences in this story to have made a nifty little paranoid thriller), and only a small bone is tossed to the idea of the entitled vs the underlings (above).

So what we are left with, mostly, is sex and more sex, after which, our boy having been caught out, we get the residual guilt and shame. All this has its interest for awhile until longueurs set in, and the little detail we get about the Strauss-Kahn marriage barely suffices.

Ms Bisset proves a strong presence against M. Depardieu's bulk and talent, and I must admit that it was a welcome change to see this actor having to portray, as above and below, a broken man for a change. His time under arrest, in jail, and being harassed by the press goes a distance in helping us sympathize with the guy -- which Ferrara clearly wants us to do.

Entitlement, money, power and the accompanying sex-and-more-sex to which these lead, followed of course by debasement  -- this is what interests the filmmaker most. And while all this is surely part of the Strauss-Kahn scandal, there's so much more here that his movie doesn't begin to approach.  If half a loaf is enough, by all means, crack off a chunk and chew awhile. It's initially tasty but not very nourishing.

Welcome to New York -- from Sundance Selects/IFC Films and running a too-long, two-hours-and-five-minutes -- opens this Friday, March 27, at San Francisco's Roxie Theater. Simultaneously, you'll also be able to see the film via VOD in most major markets. A further, if limited, theatrical rollout is expected over the weeks to come. Or not (See below).

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Addendum: Now that is has come to the fore that filmmaker Ferrara is very displeased with re-cut version released by the distributor, perhaps the above review is not indicative of the "real" movie. Though from what I could gather from the report in The New York Times, Ferrara's reasons given do not sound, to my mind, as if they would make the movie much better. Read the Times story here, then make your own judgment. In any case, I found it very odd that IFC was suddenly not opening the film theatrically in either NYC or L.A. Now we know why.

Video/streaming debut: Władysław Pasikowski's AFTERMATH ups the stakes in the "Europe's-most-anti-Semitic-country" competition

Just when you think you've seen the worst of it, along comes another entry in that ever-popular competition to determine which European country proved the most anti-Semitic during World War II. Of course it all began with Germany and Austria, so they're clearly never off the hook (with Italy not far behind). But, my, how Hungary managed to help the Nazis out, as well (see one of the finest Holocaust films, Fateless). France, too, has a lot to answer for (as the release of both Sarah's Key and La Rafle recently showed us). But, ah, Poland: There is nothing quite like that little country. I don't have time to list all the movies that implicate Poland. Even films like Agnieszka Holland's fine In Darkness -- which showed Polish Jews being rescued, albeit grudgingly, by a Christian Pole -- also allowed us to learn how his fellow Poles treated this guy, post-rescue. One wonders if Britain and/or the U.S. would have acted differently, had they, too, been conquered by the Nazis? Doubtful.

One of the latest in this ever-popular competition is AFTERMATH (Poklosie), a film written and directed by Władysław Pasikowski (shown at left) that, when it made its debut in its home country, had both adherents and naysayers aplenty. I missed it upon its theatrical release, but now its distributor Menemsha Films has made it available on DVD, Blu-ray and digital streaming, so there is little reason for you to miss it. Aftermath, said to be based on actual events, is among the most grueling and shocking of the post-Holocaust-guilt-and-shame movies that yours truly has yet encountered. In it, one brother, who left his native Poland for America years ago (Ireneusz Czop, below), suddenly returns there to find his younger brother up to his ears in odd behavior, with even worse stuff coming from his fellow townspeople, all devout, church-going Christians, doncha know!

What lies at the bottom of all this? It take the entire movie to find out, but as it moves along, Aftermath slowly divulges its information piecemeal, keeping us in the kind of suspense and on the sort of tenterhooks that a good thriller might provide. From the outset we notice the kind of anti-Semitism we're used to seeing and hearing in both narrative and documentary film from and about Poland, so we are more or less "prepped" for some of what is to come. But not nearly all.

Learning the entire story is something else again. While the older brother has his own anti-Jewish tales to tell about his America experience, we still learn things mostly through his eyes, though it becomes the younger brother (Maciej Stuhr, shown above and at bottom) with whom we most identify, particularly when we understand what he is trying to do and the odds against his achieving this.

The townspeople we meet range from marginally helpful to downright nasty, except for a pleasant young woman and a priest (below, left) whose parish is about to be taken over by younger, sleazier blood (above, center, right). What we and that older brother finally discover comes at us in bits and pieces, one more awful than the next. By the finale, this family, the town, and I'm afraid by extension the country itself are held up before us as a collective of ugly, bigoted horror.

Clearly, the filmmaker is after an indictment -- which he gets. But as good as his movie often is, I wish it had refrained from the occasional bit of melodrama that goes over the top. Though in all fairness, I must add that where this subject and the actions of certain so-called human beings are concerned, it is difficult to imagine what "over the top" might include.

Meanwhile, Aftermath, is available now on DVD and Blu-ray and via various digital streaming outlets such as Netflix. Tighten your seat belt and give it a whirl.

ON DVD and via Netflix streaming: Anna Justice's said-to-be-true Holocaust tale, REMEMBRANCE

What a cheat is this movie. It cheats us in its marketing (the bottom photo on the DVD cover is a false one) and in its telling, too. And whoever cast the leading actors certainly didn't try to make the older versions appear to have grown physically out of the their younger selves. That said (it's rather a lot, how-ever), REMEMBRANCE is for the most part well written, directed and acted. Watching it -- particularly the sections that take place during World War II, first in a concentration camp and then in wartime Poland -- is certainly attention holding, but it is a movie with which those of us who've seen countless Holocaust films already may have some trouble.

Let's start with the good stuff. The sections that tell of our two leading characters -- a Jewish German girl and a Polish partisan, both imprisoned in the camp -- are handled quite well. They are lively, impassioned and relatively realistic. Filmmaker Justice, shown at left, handles their escape attempt with real flair and the kind of style that does not call attention to itself but forces us to watch, breathless, as events pile up.

Perhaps the young woman (Alice Dwyer, above) does seem a little too beautiful for a camp survivor, and later, after the escape, her hair manages to look coiffed enough to have been done by a professional, while her clothes are clearly better than any of the other women around her. These may be small things to grouse about, but if one is paying attention to detail, they don't make much sense.

Our young man (Mateusz Damiecki, above) proves the very model of intelligence, courage and generosity, though his mom (Susanne Lothar, below, right, with Florian Lukas, as a friendlier-than-usual German officer) manages to bring to nasty life every negative we've heard about Poles and their anti-Semitism.

Mom's daughter-in-law (Joanna Kulig, below) more than makes up for this, however, as she offers help and encouragement in the face of what looks like very bad news. It's the modern-day story (set in 1976) and its unfurling that proves somewhat disappointing, particularly in comparison to what is taking place in 1944. (The filmmaker juggles the time frame so that we're constantly moving back and forth.)

Our girl Hannah has clearly made it out of Poland and to America, where she is happily married and living quite well. As played believably by Dagmar Manzel (below, who looks nothing like her younger self), she suddenly discovers that her concentration camp lover may still be alive, after believing him dead for 30 years.

This is one hell of a situation in which to find oneself, but what it does to Hannah's present day family (her husband is very well played by David Rasche, below) is barely explored, except that we note that everyone from wife to hubby to daughter is on tenterhooks and growing more annoyed.

The 1976 sections feel rushed and incomplete, and this keeps building, right up until the film's conclusion, which is frustrating in the extreme. Unless an immediate sequel was planned (that never happened), there is little excuse for this kind of filmmaking -- in which the entire point, the very thing we've been waiting for, is withheld from us. (If this were one of those "challenging" films by Michael Haneke or Asghar Farhadi, we might expect or at least more easily accept this kind of conclusion, but Remembrance is basically an "entertainment," as Graham Greene would have put it.)

There is a lot to enjoy and mull over in Remembrance, however. It certainly works (partially, anyway) as one of those "entertainments," while adding yet another tale to the myriad Holocaust stories we now know. The DVD has just arrived from Corinth Films, and you can order it here. Meanwhile, if you stream Netflix, you can also find it here.