BY SIDNEY LUMET: Nancy Buirski's first-class doc is yet another fine one about a filmmaker

Joining two other recent and terrific documentaries -- Hitchcock/Truffaut and De Palma -- that both herald and open up the work of great filmmakers, BY SIDNEY LUMET, the new documentary from Nancy Buirski (who also gave us the excellent Afternoon of a Faun and The Loving Story), reminds us of a wonderful filmmaker who died five years back and whom you might not immediately stick on your list of favorite directors. Watching Ms Buirski's incisive new film should place Lumet up there with the best, while giving you all the reasons why.

Buirski (shown at right) accomplishes this in the simplest of ways: She lets Mr. Lumet talk, while intercutting examples of his work, his history, and a bit of the history of the USA along the way. That is all the movie is, and that's all it takes to make it about as perfect -- intelligent, gripping, eye-opening, surprising and entertaining -- as you could want or need.

Aside from Lumet, there are no other talking heads that ramble on about the man and/or his work. Nor does there need to be. Mr. Lumet, it turns out, was extremely cogent and well-spoken. Not humble, neither was he full of himself. He had, it would seem, an excellent understanding of his abilities, as well as of some of the things that he lacked.

Ms Buirski begins her documentary with Lumet telling a tale of his time in WWII, in Calcutta, on a train, when a group of soldiers swept up a young Indian girl from the station platform, and then passed her around among them to be raped. Lumet is dumbstruck and wonders what he should do. We leave this tale in mid-stream and return to it only at film's end.

In between, Lumet talks of his family life, his time as a child actor (at left), his difficult father, and a contract with (I believe) MGM that somehow hinged on another young actor, Freddie Bartholomew. We learn a lot about his early years as a television director -- and in passing also learn that Yul Brynner, too, in his early years, was a very fine director! It will not surprise movie fans to learn that justice and the search for same is a hallmark, probably the main theme, of Lumet's work. (That's Sean Connery, below, in one of Lumet's least-seen and -appreciated movies, The Hill.)

And yet, what a versatile director he was in terms of projects (some of which he chose, others that were chosen for him). As we view scene after scene, from one film after another, I suspect that you, as I did I, will exclaim under your breath: "Oh, my god: He made that movie, too?" (During the final credit sequence, we get a list of all of the films directed by Lumet, and it's a humdinger: long and mostly good, even if it leaves out the excellent work he did for television.)

From 12 Angry Men (his first film, above) through The Verdict to his penultimate movie Find Me Guilty, Lumet was often in the courtroom, though just as often perhaps in the police station (Serpico, Prince of the City, and Q&A) and most definitely on the street a lot -- as in what many consider his best movie, Dog Day Afternoon. (How amazingly current this one seems, as much now and when it was made. That's Sidney, below, with his star Al Pacino.)  What Lumet says about New York City, its streets and its ravishing winter light, is -- as so much else he tells us -- pointed, well-said, and true.

It's seems a rather stunning discovering that just a man speaking, together with some of his visual history and a lot of his films (the clips from which are very well chosen and wonderfully edited into the documentary) could be this thoughtful and riveting. Well, of course: It all depends on the man and the movies. And, in this case, the documentary filmmaker: Thank you, Ms Buirski! You have sent us back to Lumet with newly opened eyes -- and a huge desire to see many of his movies again: some of his early work that features icons like Marlon Brando (below in The Fugitive Kind) and Sophia Loren (That Kind of Woman),  and especially, Daniel, his adaptation of the E.L. Doctorow book.

By the time this amazing and wonderful doc comes to a close, you will understand much more fully, thanks especially to that World War II/Calcutta reminiscence, why Mr. Lumet proved so interested in justice and the search for it against so many odds. (Yes, that's Peter Finch, in another of Lumet's memorable movies, Network, below)

By Sidney Lumet, running 103 minutes, opens tomorrow, Friday, October 28, in New York City (where else, so far as Sidney was concerned?) at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema, and the following Friday, November 4, in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal. Elsewhere? Hope so, but I don't know. Seeing as the movie is part of the American Masters series, you'll certainly be able to view it eventually via Public Television.

Another addition to the Marker mystique: Emiko Omori's TO CHRIS MARKER, AN UNSENT LETTER

TrustMovies would not be surprised if, eventually, the name Chris Marker means more to international movie buffs than does that of Jean-Luc Godard today. If you enjoy being beaten about the head, whether by cutesy-ness, politics or style, Godard's your guy. If you prefer being entered softly in an embrace that fills you up quietly and inclusively, then Marker's your man. (Of course, you can love them both; I just don't happen to.) From his relatively early work La Jetée (possibly the best-known short in the history of cinema) to La Jolie Mai, Far From Vietnam, Sans Soleil, Grin Without a Cat, The Case of the Grinning Cat and The Last Bolshevik, to name but seven of his 59 works, Marker was a mysterious and special filmmaker.

The man died just two years ago at the age of 91 of natural causes on his own birthday, July 29. He seemed to have had many friends (certainly many other filmmakers loved his work) but was a very private person who, had he embraced provocation and marketing (as did Godard) the way he embraced film-making, would no doubt have been very much better known. Over the years (decades, really) a mystique has grown up around him and his work. It continues now with the release on DVD of TO CHRIS MARKER, AN UNSENT LETTER, a kind of cinematic essay by Emiko Omori, shown at right, a cinematographer, fan and probably friend of Marker who worked with him on one of his films. Ms Omori seems to want to give us an appreciation of Marker via a sense of what his film-making was like (she uses some of that film-making within her movie), as well as letting us know (via the many interviews included) what kind of man Marker was.

Omori succeeds fairly well on both counts, more via the interviews than the filmmaking backdrop, since we get not much narration about that filmmaking: It's all more of the "what Marker and his movies meant to me" sort of thing.

However, since the "me" includes other filmmakers -- the delightful and precise Marina Goldovskaya plus Michael H. Shamberg, Tim Greenberg (whose La Puppe takes off on and from La Jetée), and Janet and David Peoples (the latter pair wrote 12 Monkeys, Terry Gilliam's cult film based on La Jetée) -- and critics (the always appreciated David Thomson) a couple of film programmers and even a computer scientist -- the appreciation indeed comes through.

What To Chris Marker, An Unsent Letter is likely to do best is send those of us who already know some of the man's work back to that work, as well as searching for more or it. For those new to Marker, the movie might just, with all the praise lavished on the movie-maker, entice newcomers to seek out his work, as well.

Distributed by Icarus Films and running but 78 minutes, the film hits the street on DVD this coming Tuesday, April 22. (Just checked and you cannot even SAVE it to your queue on Netflix. What's with that?)

The photos above are from Marker's work and are, 

I believe, included in Omori's film, as well -- all except

the shot of Ms Omori herself, which is by Michelle LaVallee.

André Téchiné's latest -- UNFORGIVABLE -- opens in New York City and Los Angeles

 

One of the reasons this year's Rendez-vous With French Cinema seemed so special is that several world-class filmmakers were represented by movies that show them working at, or close to, the top of their form: Lucas Belvaux with 38 Witnesses, Benoît Jacquot's Farewell, My Queen, Robert Guédiguian and The Snows of Kilmanjaro and André Téchiné with his newest, UNFORGIVABLE (Impardonnables).

Téchiné (shown at right) and Guédiguian are similar in the manner in which their movies often span a wide canvas of characters, though the former is never nearly so overtly political as the later. This does not mean that Techine is not political, but he always arrives there via different routes than other filmmakers. His new film is so utterly fascinating, so perfectly cast, and so full of humor, surprise, sadness and mystery (the mystery of character) that, moment to moment, I believe it may be his very best. It is also about change, and how we had better -- we must -- keep accepting, in fact, engaging it. This movie may also be the filmmaker's most accessible (for a relatively mainstream audience, at least) in some time.

Unforgivable gives the classic beauty and fine French actress Carole Bouquet (above) her best role in years as an ex-model who now deals in real estate in Venice, Italy, and early on in the film becomes involved with a writer of mysteries, played by another grand old Frenchman André Dussollier (below, left), who has come to Venice to find a way around his current writer's block.

Into the mix are introduced that remarkable Italian actress Adriana Asti (above, right), whose relationship with Bouquet goes way back; her son, a very troubled youth, played by Mauro Conte (below, right, with dog*); Dussolier's daughter, Mélanie Thierry (an equally troubled adult) and the impoverished-but-sexy Italian royalty, Andrea Pergolesi, with whom she is involved.

There are more, but these half-dozen characters are enough to set the game in motion, allowing the filmmaker (he co-adapted the scenario from the novel by Philippe Djian) to explore again, and so very well, our needs and desires, and why we betray others, even as we inevitably inflict the worst damage upon ourselves.

In a way, the movie is slice-of-life, Téchiné-style, in that it cuts a wide swatch and burrows deep. A number of unforgiveable things are done along the way, the biggest, perhaps, by the character played by Dussolier. And yet, I suspect that this filmmaker would tell us -- hell, he's shown us -- that very nearly nothing is unforgive-able. Not when we fully understand where it comes from. And Téchiné, maybe more than any other movie-maker I can think of, is always in there, probing, questioning, making sure that we do.

Unforgivable , from Strand Releasing and running 112 minutes, opens this Friday, June 29, in both Los Angeles (at Laemmle's Royal Theater, Playhouse 7 and Town Center 5) and New York City (at the Beekman and the IFC Center).

*That dog is amazing -- much better than the little guy in The Artist (same breed, too, if I am not mistaken). But this one is so incredibly lively and funny, plus he has a scene that will nearly destroy you. He's a don't-miss, all on his own.

Kids! Koreeda Hirokazu's glowing & moving I WISH offers the best of them. And of us.

I'm ready to call Koreeda Hirokazu one of the words greatest living filmmakers, certainly among the great humanist artists of all time. Each of his movies seems better than the one before it, and since that one was already full of wonder, amazement, joy and sorrow, how much fuller, more encompassing could his latest offering be? You'll have to see I WISH to find out.

The story of two siblings, Koichi and Ryunosuke -- played repsectively by newcomer brothers Koki Maeda (above, right) and Ohshirô Maeda (left) -- experiencing an enforced division due to the separation of their parents, the movie tracks both their lives, along with the little community that surrounds each of them: relatives, friends, school, teachers and then, finally, "the world," as one of them calls it -- upon discovering that life just might be larger and more complicated than his immediate circumstance had suggested. Has this fact ever hit home in cinema with quite the quiet force and exquisite combination of sadness and delight that it takes on here?

In this film -- the sixth from this director that I have seen, beginning with Maborosi in 1995 -- Mr. Koreeda, shown at left, offers up an almost continuous array of highly specific details, often in rapidly moving, short scenes, of Japanese life today. Much of this will seem both resonant and exotic, not least the active volcano, constantly spewing ash, over the city of Kagoshima where Koichi, his mom and her parents all live. Ryunosuke lives a long way off with his father in the town of Fukuoka, where dad is still struggling to earn a living as a rock musician. Reunion is on the minds of the two boys and their mom, less perhaps to their musical artist dad.

How we come to know and care for all these people -- and we do, even the adults -- constitutes Koreeda's special magic. The Japanese title of this film is Kiseki, which I'm told means miracle. There are a number what one might calls small miracles along the way in this movie -- and one very large one at the finale. Yet thanks to Koreeda's clarity of vision and ability as a filmmaker, none of it seems in the least other-worldly.

Rather, these events have to do with people behaving decently, being kind, helping each other. And finally, in the person of Koichi, at least, taking this in and using it to help himself grow. You don't see things like this in film very often -- certainly not executed with the style and grace shown here. (After all the utterly realistic and almost improvisational scenes with the kids, Koreeda gives us a long montage of visuals that build -- for us and for the character -- into a gorgeous, moving summation of... life.)

Among the movie's many blessings is the character, Megumi (played by Kyara Uchida, in purple dress, above, right), a friend of Ryunosuke who wants to be an actress. How she gets her chance, in a manner no one could have predicted, is tender and original. As is the old couple who help these kids and in the process experience a kind of complete, yet thankfully understated, joy that comes very close to heartbreak. Come on: nobody else in movies is doing anything like this.

To be honest, TrustMovies expected something wonderful from I Wish. But he had no idea it would be this special. The film, 2 hours and eight minutes and not a moment too long, from Magnolia Pictures, opens today in New York City at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema and the Angelika Film Center; in the Los Angeles area, see it at the Landmark Regent Theatre and the Laemmles' Encino Town Center 5 and Pasadena Playhouse 7. In the weeks and month of come, you'll see the film opening across the country. Click here to see all currently scheduled playdates, with cities and theaters.

At Rendez-vous: Téchiné's masterwork? UNFORGIVEABLE comes pretty damn close

One of the reasons this year's Rendez-vous With French Cinema seems so special is that several world-class filmmakers are represented by movies that show them working at, or close to, the top of their form: Lucas Belvaux with 38 Witnesses, Benoît Jacquot with Farewell, My Queen, Robert Guédiguian with The Snows of Kilmanjaro -- and now André Téchiné's UNFORGIVEABLE (Impardonnables) joins this group. Téchiné and Guédiguian are similar in how their movies often span a wide canvas of characters, though the former is never nearly so overtly political as the later. This does not mean that Techine is not political, but he always arrives there via different routes than other filmmakers. His new film is so utterly fascinating, so perfectly cast, and so full of humor, surprise, sadness and mystery (the mystery of character) that, moment to moment, I believe it may be his very best. It also may be his most accessible for a relatively mainstream audience.

Unforgiveable gives the classic beauty and fine French actress Carole Bouquet her best role in years as an ex-model who now deals in real estate in Venice, Italy, and early on in the film becomes involved with a writer of Gothic mysteries, played by another grand old Frenchman André Dussollier (below, left), who has come to Venice to find a way around his current writer's block.

Into the mix are introduced that remarkable Italian actress Adriana Asti (above, right), whose relationship with Bouquet goes way back; her son, played by Mauro Conte (below, right, with dog*), a very troubled youth; Dussolier's daughter, Mélanie Thierry, and the impoverished-but-sexy Italian royalty, Andrea Pergolesi, she becomes involved with.

There are more, but these half-dozen characters are enough to set the game in motion, allowing the filmmaker (he co-adapted the scenario from the novel by Philippe Djian) to explore again, and so very well, our needs and desires, and why we betray others, even as we inevitably inflict the worst damage upon ourselves.

In a way, the movie is slice-of-life, Téchiné-style, in that it cuts a wide swatch and burrows deep. A number of unforgiveable things are done along the way, the biggest, perhaps, by the character played by Dussolier. And yet, I suspect that this filmmaker would tell us -- hell, he's shown us -- that very nearly nothing is unforgive-able. Not when we fully understand where it comes from. And Téchiné, maybe more than any other movie-maker I can think of, is always in there, probing, questioning, making sure that we do.

Unforgiveable screens only twice at Rendez-vous -- Wednesday, March 7, at 6:30pm at IFC Center and Friday, March 9, at 8:45pm at the Walter Reade.  But Téchiné's oft-U.S.-distributor Strand Releasing, has picked this one up, so we will be seeing it again -- and soon I hope.  Oh, yes: Carole Bouquet will be making a personal appearance at both screenings!

*That dog is amazing -- much better than the little guy in The Artist (same breed, too, if I am not mistaken).  But this one is so incredibly lively and funny, plus he has a scene that will nearly destroy you. He's a don't-miss, all on his own.

Back to Africa, as Denis and Huppert knock our socks off with WHITE MATERIAL

Africa has never been far away from the films of Claire Denis -- from the first and comparatively benign (everything's relative) Chocolat to the new and slowly horrifying WHITE MATERIAL. Even when Denis' setting is Paris and its environs, her characters, some of them, at least, are dealing with the African emigrant experience in France. And her most critically-acclaimed work, Beau Travail (though not my favorite) deals with the French Foreign Legion, whose "home" is the sun-splashed desert of the "dark continent." As special and full of wonder (and two peak performances) as is a film like the Paris-set, bourgeois-bound Friday Night, Denis' work set in Africa commands its own special power, yet none of her films till now have had quite the power of this new one.

White Material is also perhaps as close to mainstream a movie as the filmmaker, pictured at left, has given us. "Close" for Denis, I mean. Relatively easy to follow as it goes from the present to an extended flashback that brings us back to the beginning and slightly onward, the movie is heavy with those mainstream staples -- threat,  violence and terror -- though all of them are handled in a manner that makes us increasingly uneasy, rather than slapping us in the face with standard blood-and-guts. In fact, for a long while we see no killing, no use of violence.  Instead we see its threat -- or its aftermath. When at last, the on-screen, you-are-there killing arrives, it comes from exactly where we do not expect it and is thus even more shocking and unsettling.

It seems to TrustMovies that Denis' theme here is the fruits of Colonialism, harvested on the home ground of the colonized: How self-destructive the big C is to the colonizers themselves and how, once armed revolution takes hold, the colonized become as or more savage than their suddenly overthrown keepers.

The filmmaker's story is about a sick-unto-dying French family who has for three generations owned a coffee plantation in Africa.  The opening shots -- wild dogs running loose and our main character, Maria Vial (played by the great Isabelle Huppert, above) traveling up a road and hoping for help from passing autos that do not stop -- sets the tone for what is to come. Maria wants, no matter what, to hold on to the family plantation.

We meet Huppert's husband André (Christopher Lambert, above), who is trying to negotiate some kind of monetary settlement for the plantation from the powers-that-may-soon-be, including the town's mayor (William Nadylam, below), who has organized his own militia to fight the growing strength of the home-grown rebels jockeying for power. We also meet the household servants, including one with whom André has fathered a son.

Maria's father-in-law (Michel Subor) still controls the plantation but appears to have given up on everything, maybe including life itself. The Vial's grown son (played by Denis irregular Nicolas Duvauchelle, most recently seen in Wild Grass and The Girl on the Train) still acts like a baby half the time, due perhaps to his mom's inappropriate "mothering." When he chases after two young rebels and is made to undergo a terrible humiliation, this sets off familial crises in which the cracks become too big for everyone to bear and all hell break loose inside the family, just as the same thing is occurring outside.

 
Real control eludes nearly everyone here, and even those who seem to possess it for a time (the rebel leader Boxer, played by another magnetic actor Denis used early on: Isaach De Bankolé, shown below) know how transient it will be. In near-complete control, yet seeming loose and intuitive, the filmmaker builds her story and her tension boldly, with always just enough information to keep us up-to-snuff but on our toes, with Huppert's character always in control of herself, if of little else.

This actress just gets better and better. (Really, has she not been, from The Lacemaker onwards, close to perfect?) Huppert rarely change her appearance much (her costumes, of course) yet she has that special ability to seemingly create each character from the inside out.  Consequently we don't doubt a word she says, nor an expression that passes over her often enigmatic face.

White Material (the title refers to the "possessions" of the colonizers) is a decidedly accessible movie, unlike, say Denis' Intruder of a few years back. It tells a gallopingly good story, in addition to being about something important that the world and its people still seem to have trouble comprehending. It should increase this filmmaker's coterie considerably, even as it burnishes her art to a brighter sheen.

The movie, from IFC Films, opens here in New York City on Friday, November 19, at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema and the IFC Center. It will also be available from IFC On-Demand starting Wednesday, November 24. Click here to learn how to get it from your local TV-reception provider.