Blu-ray debut for another under-rated Philip Ridley film, THE PASSION OF DARKLY NOON

Only eight months ago, we were treated to the Blu-ray debut of Philip Ridley's first full-length film, The Reflecting Skin, and now we're graced with the same for his second feature, THE PASSION OF DARKLY NOON.

Released theatrically back in 1995, the film not only holds up far better than it did (for most critics) at the time of its release, it actually seems a much stronger film today, what with its major theme of how religious fundamentalism destroys lives being ever more timely and important.

Though Mr. Ridley, pictured at left, has only three full-length films (a sort of trilogy, the filmmaker has suggested) to his credit (his last was the dark, marvelous and best-of-the-lot Heartless from 2010), the man -- as we learn from the superb 20-minute appreciation by James Flower that is part of the disc's Bonus Features -- is a polymath: a fine artist, writer, playwright and filmmaker. He can probably cook, too.

As much as I love Ridley's work, and even after viewing and listening to Mr. Flower's fine appreciation, TrustMovies feels that each of the filmmaker's movies has been better than its predecessor. On second viewing, The Reflecting Skin -- a kind of indictment of America and its supposed values -- simply bites off more than it can properly chew, interesting as it is to contemplate, as well as gorgeous to view.

The Passion of Darkly Noon, on  the other hand, for all the drama and melodrama on hand, tells its urgent story extremely well, with literally every scene and theme necessary and contributing by the finale to a quite satisfying whole. The title role -- an unusual one for the actor Brendan Fraser (above) -- is played very well indeed, as are all in the quintet of supporting roles.

In the film's opening, we see Darkly running and running through a forest until he collapses and is later found by a local (the uber-charming Loren Dean, above), who transports him to the nearest house, inhabited by Callie (Ashley Judd, below, who has never looked hotter nor more gorgeous)

and Clay (Viggo Mortensen, below, who always looks hot and gorgeous). Initially, it's only Darkly and Callie in this large house (he has a room atop the barn), and romance soon blossoms -- at least for one of these two. "We want you to be part of our family," Callie tells Darkly. "Don't ruin it."

The characterizations, via the excellent actors as well as from the screenwriting (also by Ridley), is strong and true. Even though the characters here tend to be either kindly or crazy -- one of these, the local undertaker, delightfully played by the late Lou Myers, is both -- the characterizations are nuanced enough to seem real and easily engage us.

The final member of the supporting quintet -- played with her usual truthfulness and ferocity by Grace Zabriskie, above -- is the craziest, for good reason. Together, these folk dance around and with our troubled Darkly. Add the boy's dead but still crazy parents to the mix, and you have an excellent recipe for disaster.

Ridley's penchant for fascinating byways -- into caves, hot springs (above), fantasy and really oddball visuals (the giant floating shoe is my favorite) -- is on full display.

Yet even the most unusual of these gets its own delightful, out-of-the-blue, well, of course! moment at the finale, making The Passion of Darkly Noon a very special kind of entertainment indeed.

The Blu-ray transfer is a very good one, and don't let the above photos fool you; they were all I could find, and they do not reflect the quality of that transfer.

From Arrow Video (distributed in the USA via MVD Entertainment Group/MVD Visual) and running a just-right 101 minutes, the movie arrives on disc -- with beaucoup Bonus Features -- this coming Tuesday, March 24, for purchase (and I hope somewhere, for rental, too). The shot of the barbed-wire bloody Fraser, two photos above, may give certain viewers an idea from where Paul Schrader got his inspiration -- other than from the Crucifixion itself -- for the finale of First Reformed.

Our August Sunday Corner with Lee Liberman: David Leveaux's THE EXCEPTION

Q: Can an officer have a loyalty greater 

to anything other than his country?

A: First he must ask the questions...

What is my country? 

And does it even still exist?

The 2016 film, THE EXCEPTION, streaming now on Netflix, is a World War II drawing-room melodrama with dashes of thriller thrown in that offers another small story told at a distance from the war theater and its central tragedy.

The film gives voice to the consternation, in fact grief, of some Germans as they glimpsed their upright, organized culture devolving into a torture machine (and timed with our own fears about democracy).

This is a first film-outing for David Leveaux, admired and loved for his theater direction in England and on Broadway, here using a screenplay by Simon Burke based on Alan Judd’s 2003 novel, The Kaiser’s Last Kiss.

Kaiser Wilhelm II (Christopher Plummer) and his second wife, Hermine (Janet McTeer), above, are exiles living on a Dutch estate near Utrecht early in the war mid-1940. There he rails at those who cried for war all those years ago, ignoring his orders, bringing on World War I. Now he spends his days taking daily briefings from his loyal aide, Col. Ilsemann (Ben Daniels), chopping wood (an obsession), and feeding the ducks, who do not blame him for losing the first world war or his throne. 

Brandt, a German captain with a stomach full of shrapnel, has been recalled from the battlefield in Poland under suspicious circumstances (he should have been court-martialed if not shot). He gets off easy with new orders to Utrecht to head the Kaiser’s personal bodyguard (below).

Brandt is hunky Australian Jai Courtney (Divergent, Suicide Squad), very convincing, showing us through his eyes and his nightmares that he follows orders but takes exception to murderous excess. Here he meets Dutch maid, Mieke (Lily James of Downton Abbey), providing the ingredients for a sexy, dangerous coupling.

If the pair are the heart of this story, the elders are its soul. Wilhelm and Hermine are so well-written and played, they hold their own against the furtive lovers. (Plummer is now nearly ninety and grand; McTeer, always working, much awarded yet shunning celebrity, is priceless and perfect in her constant conniving over Wilhelm’s well-being and late career.)

Brandt (the moving force here) and the local Utrecht gestapo are tasked with uncovering an English spy in the area. (Wilhelm is sly: “We must alert the ducks”.) After a visit to Mieke’s room, Brandt finds gun oil on a cigarette pack he had dropped on her table (nearly everybody in WWII chain smokes). Presently the household is in a tizzy preparing for the visit of Heinrich Himmler; the estate must be searched top to bottom. Brandt stakes out Mieke’s room but finds nothing there to do with gun oil.

At dinner, Himmler (Eddie Marsan, below), who has come to ask Wilhelm to return to Berlin as figure head, chats about ongoing research in Potsdam to industrialize murder —the present killing of 10 persons per minute by injecting carbolic acid is inefficient. Some at table turn pale at this talk.

There are twists and turns with the spy thing, two offers to the Kaiser (one delivered by Himmler, the second messaged from Winston Churchill), a bumbling chase with Nazis yelling and 1940-era cars barreling to and fro, and hopeful prospects for the lovers who must part. But despite theatrics that are more silly than thrilling, the drawing room and backstairs doings elevate the reward to Downton Abbey-level satisfaction (which is to say very entertaining but not Wolf Hall or Gosford Park).

The romance offers a rare, perfectly erotic few moments and a screaming fight (he: you used me; she: I used myself), making you want this pair to end up together; and Wilhelm and Hermine conjure magic of their own. Lily James, in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society and Cinderella, could not put a princessly foot wrong but although appealing here, she’s too much the ingenue for the steely business at hand.

But no matter, the film has its charms and one imagines that director Leveaux will make the thrills in his next film as good as the interpersonals (that is, make the former either more thrilling or more satiric). As it is, the domestic affairs that play out in this bit of imagined drama are well worth the flaws.

The real Kaiser, below, (grandson of England’s Queen Victoria) never went anywhere — he died in June 1941 at his Dutch estate (one imagines as a complication of smoking).

The above post is written by our 

monthly correspondent, Lee Liberman

Sexual harassment in Israel via Michal Aviad's slow-burn melodrama, WORKING WOMAN

Location, location, location. That famous old real-estate slogan seems mightily appropriate in regard to the new movie, WORKING WOMAN, and not simply because the film involves the sale of some heavy-duty real estate by its heroine. Even more important is the fact that this tale -- which concerns the kind of sexual harassment that ranges anywhere between a 2 and a 10 (on a 10-point scale) -- takes place in Israel, a country that, even in our current age of Me2, seems a couple of decades behind much of the western world concerning the place of women in society.

As directed and co-written (with Sharon Azulay Eyal and Michal Vinik), by Michal Aviad (shown at left), this very interesting and believable movie tracks the new career of a wife and mother of three children, who goes to work for an ex-superior of hers (during her time in the Israeli army) who is now something of a real estate mogul. She does this in order to help salvage her husband's barely-making-it restaurant.

The couple is played by Liron Ben-Shlush (the wife, Orna) and Oshri Cohen (her hubby), and you could hardly ask for a more attractive pair: young, intelligent and sexy as hell. They seem quite happy, too -- except that we do get a sense that the husband is not overjoyed about his wife going to work for someone else. Just a minor annoyance, mind you, but still: It's there, and it begins to cement our further notions about Israeli society.

How our girl makes good at her new job is demonstrated with flair and subtlety by the filmmaker, and it is soon quite clear that her new boss, Benny (played by Menashe Noy, above), is more than a little appreciative of her abilities -- which demonstrate skills of which Benny himself is noticeably lacking.

Once the sexual harassment starts -- just a kiss, mind you, and one for which Benny is ever so sorry -- all begins to change. It's incremental, of course, but it upends Orna's behavior even more than it does Benny's. That's one of the insidious effects of female life under the patriarchy.

How all this plays out -- there's a lovely and successful trip to Paris in the mix! -- should have you impressed with Orna and her skills, even as you're growing ever more concerned. And when the shit finally hits the fan, how resolution arrives seems light years from what we might expect today in the USA or in many western countries. But this does not make it any the less believable. The culture of the state calls the shots here, as elsewhere, for better or worse.

If you find that resolution maybe just a tad too easily achieved, that is what makes the movie more melodrama than drama. There nothing wrong with a crackerjack melodrama, however -- which Working Woman most definitely is. Well acted, written and directed, the film makes a very nice addition to the increasing number of international movies addressing feminism and sexual harassment.

From Zeitgeist Films via Kino Lorber, the movie opens in New York City this coming Wednesday, March 27, at the IFC Center and the Marlene Myerson JCC Manhattan. It hits the Los Angeles area on Friday April 12 at Laemmle's Royal, Playhouse 7 and Town Center 5. Over the weeks and months to come, it will play another 25 or so cities. Click here and then scroll down to see all currently scheduled playdates and venues.

The hot new Netflix series from Spain, entitled ELITE, proves sensational twice over

There are two major meanings of the word "sensational," and both easily fit the new Spanish series streaming now on Netflix. The first refers to something causing great public interest and excitement (synonyms: shocking, scandalous, appalling), the second tackles the quality of that thing: very impressive, gorgeous, stunning, captivating, and so forth. ELITE, which is set in an uber-high-end prep school in Spain in which the students, hormone-fueled to the max, engage in all kinds of sex -- straight, gay, and even threesomes -- proves sensational on both fronts.

The product of a pair of well-known Spanish writers/producers (shown above, respectively right and left), Darío Madrona (Vive cantando) and Carlos Montero (The Time in Between), Elite will be quite enough for some viewers interested in watching a group of gorgeous young actors, clothed and unclothed, getting it on. That we come to know and understand these kids so well and begins to care about them more and more as the series progresses is due to the exceptional writing and the crack performances given by every last cast member.

In conception and execution, Elite proves exactly that. The plot kicks into action as a trio of new students -- a Muslim girl and two boys of clearly working-class status, above (above, left to right: Itzan Escamilla, Mina El Hammani, and Miguel Herrán) -- are introduced into this high school made up of the sons and daughters of Spain's exclusive and entitled one per cent (two of which are shown below: Ester Expósito and Álvaro Rico)  Divisions are immediately drawn -- by the end of the first episode we know that a murder has been committed -- and the following seven episodes are devoted to blurring those divisions.

We soon find that we are seeing some good in the kids we initially despised, while finding fault with those we liked and most rooted for. In short, the characters here are rounded; they grow and they change. Some more than others, and some very little (especially the nasty, rich bitch below, played to near-perfection by Danna Paola), and their movements back and forth as they learn who they are, along with who their friends really are (or aren't) makes the series grow ever richer.

The Spanish, bless 'em, may be the best purveyors of melodrama in the world (followed perhaps by the South Koreans). Grand Hotel is of course the sterling example for our millennium, with so many other series like La casa de papel (known as Money Heist on Netflix) not far behind. Is this creative ability built into the Spanish DNA? One does have to wonder because -- so clever is the plotting, so fine the casting and characterizations, and so spectacular the production design and visuals -- little else compares.

The series is said to have raised eyebrows and hackles in its native Spain, ostensibly for its sexuality. (That's Arón Piper , left, with newcomer Omar Ayuso, above.) But I do wonder if, on a deeper level, it's the cynical "take" on the children of the one per cent, and their powerful, mostly despicable parents holding onto to power by any means necessary, that has riled the powers-that-be even more.

The attitude here is mostly progressive, including even the sex-and-sin portions, which are plentiful. Though we know the murder victim early on (this is nothing like Big Little Lies), the identity of the murderer remains hidden until the finale. (That's Miguel Bernardeau, above right, as the most entitled and pushy of the elite crew.)

Any justice, however, will have to be meted out during Elite's second season. There will surely be one, as the first season has been a major hit, with its popularity only growing as more countries discover its pleasures. Above, right, is Jaime Lorente, who plays the pivotal older brother of one of the new students. Both he and Senor Herrán (standing, below, center, and at bottom, left), are also stars of the Money Heist series. The two are clearly talented and versatile performers, with Herrán quite the little scene-stealer.

Probably the most problemed and difficult of all these characters is our sort-of heroine, Marina, played by María Pedraza, below, whose behavior and decisions will have you rooting for her one minute and wanting to smack her the next. Ms Pedraza was also in Money Heist, playing the pivotal character of Alison Parker. She is so different here as to be very nearly unrecognizable, yet in her own strange way, she holds the series' first season together.

You can stream Elite now, here in the USA and elsewhere via Netflix. Do give it a try. TrustMovies' blood pressure is still raised a bit, thanks to all the provocative goings-on.

Glenn Close baits "Oscar" in the Runge, Anderson and Wolitzer melodrama, THE WIFE

She's been nominated for an Oscar six times already (she should have won for the too-little-seen Albert Nobbs in 2012), but this may just be Glenn Close's year. Her newest film, THE WIFE, is the kind of feel-good and perfectly timed-to-the-Me-Too-Movement arthouse/mainstream event that often sets Academy members' hearts aflutter. It is also a pretty good melodrama. And Ms Close is, as ever, sterling. Even if the movie that surrounds her proves mostly silverplate. And though its believability quotient is on the low end, The Wife still offers quite a bit of old-fashioned fun.

As written by the accomplished Jane Anderson (from a novel by Meg Wolitzer) and directed by Swedish filmmaker Björn Runge (shown at left), the movie opens as "the husband" (Jonathan Pryce) receives word that, yes, he is to be nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature.

Off hubby and spouse soon go to Sweden for the acceptance of the honor, but along the way and while there, the movie keeps flashing back to those "early years" in which the husband's writing career took off, aided by his wife's devotion -- and then some.

The "real" story, which is uncovered in the course of this 100-minutes movie, is more complicated than a mere telling of one writer's rise to fame, but as told here, it is also awfully pat and rather contrived. Thanks to the elegant and layered performance Ms Close (above) provides, along with that of her her daughter's -- actress Annie Starke (below), who plays the wife in her younger days -- the character of this wife proves rich, complicated and compelling enough to make the movie worthwhile.

Because the screenplay must also include a "plot" by a semi-sleazy journalist (nicely handled by Christian Slater, below) to unmask the truth,

as well as a father/son estrangement due, among other things, to jealousy and self-revilement, the movie simply cannot probe very deeply into anything. (Max Irons at left, below, handles the son's role with the proper anger and hurt.)

Still, its surface is glossy and well-acted enough to carry things along serviceably and entertainingly. And Ms Close is a constant delight to watch. If she gets that nomination, it'll certainly be deserved, though my vote this year and at this point would go to Kelly McDonald in Puzzle -- a better and just-as-feminist movie with a deeper and more profound performance anchoring it.

Meanwhile, The Wife, from Sony Pictures Classics, after debuting in a number of major cities a few weeks back, opens here in South Florida this Friday, August 31 -- at the Living Room Theaters, Regal Shadowood and Cinemark Palace in Boca Raton; at the Cinemark Boynton Beach; in the Miami area at The Landmark Merrick Park, The Tower Theater, and Regal South Beach 18; at the Cinemark Paradise 24 in Davie; at the Movies of Delray and Lake Worth; in Fort Lauderdale in the Classic Gateway; and at Cobb's Downtown at the Gardens in Palm Beach Gardens. 

Lucas Belvaux's THIS IS OUR LAND: the frightening growth of the French far right

A uniquely disturbing (because it is so plausible) movie, THIS IS OUR LAND (originally titled as the better, simpler and more ironic Chez Nous) shows us, bit by bit, how a smart, caring, well-liked nurse in a typical provincial French town is slowly and cleverly conned into running for mayor under the banner of the "new" far-right party and its leader (think Marine Le Pen).

Though the far right, along with its neo-Nazis cohorts, has yet to win the major election in France, as Donald Trump and the Republican Party have done here in the USA, their strength in France -- as well as all across the European community -- continues to grow.

Belgian filmmaker Lucas Belvaux (of 38 Witnesses and Rapt) who co-wrote (with Jérôme Leroy, from his novel) and directed the movie has given it a remarkably true-to-life, near-documentary-like approach filled with so many on-the-nose details of small town life -- at work, at home, in relationships with friends and lovers -- that reality is captured almost at once and remains grounded throughout, despite some melodramatic turns and a finale that seems too sudden, coincidental and easy. The movie's strengths far outweigh its weaknesses, however, and what is likely to remain with you is a cautionary tale par excellence.

In the leading role is that fine Belgian actress Émilie Dequenne (above and on poster, top), who began her career in the Dardennes' Rosetta and has been giving crackerjack performances during the near 20 years since. This is another of her best, and it is hard to think of an actress (maybe Adèle Haenel in a few years) who could be any better in this role.

What the movie is particularly good at is showing us the route, led by a very successful right-wing doctor, played with his usual savoir faire by André Dussollier (above), via which the national front party seduces our heroine, along with so much of the populace, many of which are interested in populist ideals but unable (maybe unwilling) to differentiate between those and the racist, xenophobic underlay that accompanies them.

Catherine Jacob's performance -- the actress is shown above and below, center -- as the Le Pen stand-in is impressive in both its subtle conniving and its power to rouse the masses. This Is Our Land is also quite adept at demonstrating how a smart and caring woman could be seduced by this combination of praise, attention, and the support of friends already in the hands of the far right. In fact, what makes the film so particularly disquieting is how heavily we identify with our nurse/heroine and then must watch as she (and, yes, maybe we would, too) begins compromising the very bedrock principles upon which she has lived so far.

Now, all political parties do this same thing (god knows, America's Democratic Party compromised what few principles it had left by forcing Hillary Clinton upon us rather than going with the more progressive candidate whose appeal, according to all the early polls, trumped even that of Trump. But there are bad political parties and worse ones. And the French right-wing, along with America's Republicans, are clearly the worse.

The film's wild card is the character of the Dequenne character's old boyfriend (Guillaume Gouix, above and below) who suddenly appears back in her life as a possible mate.  Alternately violent and kindly, the latter especially to her children, he quickly becomes as much of a problem for the party and their candidate, as he may be for our heroine, too.

In the supporting cast, Patrick Descamps (above, left) is particularly notable as Dequenne's layabout Communist-Party father, whose reaction to her new political affiliation will not surprise you. A movie that is, as they used to say, ripped from today's headlines, This Is Our Land seems not to be asking could-it-happen-here? (it already has) than simply to be questioning how, in this "modern" age, we might hang on to whatever is left of our minuscule democracy.

From Distrib Films US, in French with English subtitles and running 117 minutes, the movies gets its U.S. theatrical premiere this Wednesday, April 18, in New York City at Film Forum. On April 27 it opens in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Monica Film Center. Click here, and then scroll down and click on Watch Now to view all upcoming playdates, cities and theaters.