Movie sop for seniors: Rosemary Rodriguez's SILVER SKIES hits Florida theaters this week

It's true that we seniors enjoy seeing ourselves up there on the (as we used to call it) silver screen, but I suspect a lot of us may bridle at depictions such as those in the film that opens this week in Florida theaters. SILVER SKIES is the name of a Southern California apartment complex that doubles as the movie's title, and it is filled with seniors of relatively humble means who suddenly find themselves threatened with eviction when the property is sold to someone planning to turn it into expensive condos.

The biggest draw for the aged here will likely be the once-upon-a-time starry cast of now elders that include the likes of George Hamilton, Valerie Perrine, Barbara Bain, Alex Rocco, Mariette Hartley and Howard Hesseman (among others). And, yes, it is interesting to see how these actors have aged from the time of their career height until now. But as written and directed by Rosemary Rodriiguez, shown at right, the movie lurches clunkily from caricature to caricature, comedy to bathos, and coincidence to coincidence, with occasionally more-or-less believable moments in between. That last is due mostly to the work of the actors on view.

Ms Rodriguez's script is simply bad -- obvious and predictable -- as it tackles subjects that range from gentrification and the real estate market to senior sex and senior sexual abuse, and then abjectly fails to give these the kind of nuance that would make them seem anything more than crass and manipulative. Think of it as an old-fashioned TV sit-com, using today's hyped-up sexual situations and their accompanying language as fodder.

We get it all here, including Alzheimer's (via the character played by Mr. Hamilton, above). While I realize that this disease can render its victim sometimes incapable and at other time more competent, the range this character depicts seems much more due to the needs of the plot than to anything remotely real or genuine.

The cast comes through as well as possible under these circumstances, with Ms Perrine (above) looking as lovely and tart-like as ever, Ms Bain appropriately old-but-caring and Ms Hartley still exuding intelligence and class. After only maybe a half hour of viewing, my spouse likened Silver Skies to suicide-by-movie, but we soldiered on. Arriving toward the finale, the film did seem to improve somewhat, but I suspect that may have been due to the fact that we were, at that point, so worn down by it that we welcomed whatever might come -- so long as it ends.

If you are desperate for something "senior," the film -- opens this coming Friday, October 7, in the Miami area a the AMC Aventura and Sunset Place, in Boca Raton at the Regal Shadowood, in Sarasota at the Regal Hollywood, and in the Ft. Myers/Naples area at the Regal Belltower and Hollywood Stadium.

Big ideas done with subtlety and care in Ira Sach's new urban family film, LITTLE MEN

How do the decisions we make about right and wrong, friends and family, and whom to help when the chips are down -- as well as those made for us by our parents -- affect our lives to come? A sterling example of all the above can be found in LITTLE MEN, the new film from Ira Sachs (Keep the Lights On, Love Is Strange) that offers up the conundrum of gentrification and modern-day real estate in Brooklyn, New York, and how this impacts the lives of two families.

As has always been his wont, Mr. Sachs places character, followed by situation, above all else, although I must admit that his plots have become increasingly interesting and rich (compare The Delta, from 1996, with his current film). The filmmaker, shown at right, seems to bite off a bit more "story" with each new work, chew it up properly and then let us digest the results -- which, in this case, produces plenty of food for thought.

The tale here is of a middle-class Manhattan family -- actor dad (Greg Kinnear, above, left), therapist mom (Jennifer Ehle, above, right) and middle-school-attending son (Theo Taplitz, below) -- that, due to the sudden death of its estranged patriarch, moves to Brooklyn to take over the brownstone left to dad and his sister (Talia Balsam).

On the ground floor of that brownstone is a dress shop run by a South American woman (Paulina García, below) whose relationship with the deceased father is never quite spelled out. But she owns and has been running the shop for more than a decade (with nary a rent increase) and is in no mood to move out or have anything changed monetarily. Her teenage son (Michael Barbieri, two photos below) quickly becomes fast friends with the family's son, and so the set-up for real estate (excuse the expression) "trumping" relationships becomes front and center.

How this plays out is both expected and not so. No one is an out-and-out villain, and surprisingly enough the dress shop owner proves the most intransigent of anyone. But thanks to a keen grasp on character and motivation (and the truly troubling attempt by Kinnear's dad to somehow "do the right thing"), we viewers are brought up-close-and-personal to the idea of family vs friendship, money vs morality and not-so-simple betrayal and the results thereof.

Performances could hardly be better, particularly those of the two boys, both of whom shine in their own special ways. Kinnear, one of the most under-rated actors working today, is as fine as always. Notice his ability to let us understand that dad is not so hot an actor (his Trigorin -- they're doing The Seagull -- looks good but lacks a lot) yet his performance as the beleaguered dad is quite wonderful.

By the finale of Little Men, it is clear that everyone has moved on. But the family's son must quietly accept and live with his betrayal of his friend, and we get a dark, rich sense of the past having impacted the future in ways that will likely not be undone. And Mr Sachs has created another quiet, small movie that resonates strongly and beautifully.

From Magnolia Pictures and running a mere 85 minutes, the movie, after opent in major cities over the past few weeks, hits South Florida tomorrow, Friday,. August 19, at the Coral Gables Art Cinema, and then the following Friday, August 26, at the Bill Cosford Cinema, Miami. On September 9, it opens at the Movies of Delray and the Movies of Lake Worth, and at the Lake Worth Playhouse. You can view all currently scheduled nationwide playdates, cities and theaters by clicking here.

Frederick Wiseman's documentary IN JACKSON HEIGHTS opens at New York City's Film Forum

My cousin Paula Carroll, a relatively wise-in-the-ways-of-the-world woman, used to say (and undoubtedly still does) that if you know a particular subject well and then see a movie about it, you'll find that movie wanting. TrustMovies has more often than not discovered for himself that this is true. Depth, specificity and honesty are not necessarily synonymous with mainstream entertainment. Having lived in Jackson Heights for 22 years and only recently relocated to southern Florida, I know my ex-community relatively well and so was looking forward to the Frederick Wiseman (the filmmaker is shown above) documentary, IN JACKSON HEIGHTS, about as much as I've awaited the coming of any movie I can recall. I've been impressed with other of this documentarian's works -- from Titicut Follies (1967) and High School (1968) onwards to Crazy Horse (2011) -- and now, here he is tackling my own stomping ground!

Yeah, right. I should have lessened my expectations and recalled what cousin Paula said. Also, I should have noticed that the title of this film is not Jackson Heights (as though it were going to be any kind of definitive picture or history) but In Jackson Heights, as instead, "This is what's happening in the neighborhood right now." As such, Wiseman's movie is a not uninteresting look at a place that, like the borough of Queens of which it is a part, offers as ployglot a community as you're likely to find anywhere in the world (167 languages are said to be spoken here!).

Inclusive is also a term you can use about this place which is and has been for some time open and relatively welcoming of the GLBT community (some of its seniors are shown above), of new immigrants (legal and otherwise), and of the various cultures these immigrant represent (the number and variety of ethnic restaurants alone are legion). All this is catnip to Wiseman's eye and camera, and so we get a cursory look at food and restaurants and culture and mariachi bands (below).

What really interests the filmmaker, however, are certain groups -- from those in a senior center, to the GLBT population, to young social activists trying to help a beleaguered Hispanic business community survive an attack by wealthy real estate investors, to a support group for recent U.S. immigrants, a member of which (below) tells the tale of her daughter's very frightening and near-death experience getting into the country.

Also covered in some depth and detail is the office of Danny Dromm, New York City Council member for the 25th district, which includes Jackson Heights. We watch and listen as his staff handles various phone calls, and later watch and listen again as Dromm and staff tackle a thorny education question. (The movie certainly works as an endorsement of Councilman Dromm.) The funniest moments probably arrive as the camera and microphone capture a class for new taxi drivers (below) who need to learn about Brooklyn! This is clever, unusual stuff, and their teacher seems like a born New Yorker (that is to say, himself a somewhat Sammy Glick-like immigrant striver).

My spouse stopped watching the film after two hours (it runs a total of three hours and ten minutes). He found it too repetitive and not very eye-opening. I watched that final hour and was glad  I did, even though I, too, did not find myself surprised or educated by much I saw.) I suspect that none of the critics who are currently praising the film to the skies live in Jackson Heights, or they would be aware of all that is going on here. And more. The movie barely cuts into the community, save for these few "group" experiences that we see.

Wiseman is a filmmaker who prefers to show rather than tell (some of his subjects do plenty of that, however). So he does not use narration or go into history.  He simply points his camera -- savvily, it must be said -- and records. What he has captured In Jackson Heights is a community undergoing change, as communities always do. Earlier, Hispanics pushed out an older population of Irish and Italians; now they are being pushed out by gentrification and wealth. There was a time when Jews were not allowed to purchase in the Jackson Heights Historic District -- a beautiful, landmarked area within Jackson Heights that this movie barely shows or mentions -- but you wouldn't learn anything like that from watching this vibrant, colorful but somewhat shallow film. There is a limit to what simply pointing the camera and shooting can do, and when one goes into a community this diverse, there is a price to be paid in the kind of depth achieved.

The movie, from Zipporah Films (Wiseman's own distribution company) opens this coming Wednesday, November 4, in its world theatrical premiere in New York City at Film Forum. In the weeks to come, it will make its way around the country and elsewhere. To see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters, click here and scroll down.

Su Friedrich's GUT RENOVATION returns -- this time in Dumbo, Brooklyn, at the reRun

Anger fuels GUT RENOVATION, the documentary by filmmaker Su Friedrich about "development" and "gentrification" (D&G) in Williamsburg, and how a neighborhood full of manufacturing and artists' residences and studios is suddenly turned into a playground for the wealthy. In my experience, living for a long while in Manhattan's Upper West Side, D&G usually takes time to make itself felt; it can often be two to three decades before a neighborhood changes drastically -- particularly if the gentrification occurs slowly, with the development more or less piecemeal.

That was not the case in Williamsburg, where a sleazy and unnecessary (except to make developers even more wealthy) zoning change took place that opened the door for an almost immediate and quite shocking level of demolition-followed-by-building within a very small amount of space and time. One of the saddest, yet darkly funny, continuing jokes of this movie is the map (shown below) the filmmaker has constructed, showing us how -- property by property, block by block -- warehouses, manufacturing facilities and residences fall to this "development." So much in such a small area! There's a lot of humor in the film, too, bleak and black as it is, which saves the documentary from becoming too much of a diatribe. Though, as a resident of the area who soon loses her home, Ms Friedrich can hardly be blamed for her immense anger.

The filmmaker gives us some history of the area, especially of the Ironworks that figures prominently into things, and then offers up a commercial from the real estate industry about the upcoming development that promises buyers "Your own authentic style." Huh? The "style" we're shown in some of these new apartments (of which the filmmaker pretends to be a possible buyer, in order to gain access) looks pretty chintzy. The movie, by the way, is almost entirely personal and anecdotal, so don't expect, as I did going into it, something on the order of that great doc Battle for Brooklyn.

Friedrich's film is much smaller potatoes but it is deeply felt and very depressing, despite the almost constant humor, verbal and visual. (Ah, the dogs of the wealthy!) The sense of powerlessness that results from the form of unethical "eminent domain" shown here, uprooting a neighborhood and displacing its tenants from their homes and jobs, is overwhelming and awful.

Honest to a fault, at one point, Friedrich tells us that a friend of hers suggested that she simply title her movie "I Hate Rich People." And sometimes she does come across this way. More energy might have been devoted to exploring the how and why of that rezoning and the official report that was initially demanded but then ignored because it showed that industry was actually thriving in Williamsburg. It was, after all, the usual cabal of real estate/developer/politician cronies who enabled and were responsible for this entire fiasco. The rich who moved in simply took advantage of what they were offered.

The film's funniest and most sustained bit of humor derives from a huge boulder (above) that neither man nor machine can seem to move or break apart. I'd imagine that the filmmaker began to identify with that boulder. Change is inevitable, however, and eventually the boulder is broken. And Ms Friedrich and her companion must move.

If you live in, or anywhere near, a neighborhood ripe for gentrification, I think you'll want to see this movie. After its initial run last month at Film Forum, Gut Renovation -- from Outcast Films and running 81 minutes -- is back, starting tomorrow in Brooklyn, at the reRun theater. Click here for further information and/or tickets.