EISENSTEIN IN GUANAJUATO: It's the new Peter Greenaway and very sexual. 'Nuff said.

OK. So it's gorgeous (that pretty much goes without saying regarding most movies by Peter Greenaway). With EISENSTEIN IN GUANAJUATO, black-and-white cinematography moves into color; the screen splits, then splits again. Sometimes we see black-and-white and color simultaneously. And as happens with Greenaway now and again (remember The Pillow Book?), there are a number of shots featuring uncut cock (belonging here to famed film director Sergei Eisenstein -- or at least the actor who's playing him, Elmer Bäck).

I would say that Mr. Greenaway, shown at right, is up to his old tricks, but these are rather new tricks, and simply for that color, exquisite sets and locations, not to mention all of the full-frontal beauty, the movie is worth seeing. As an exploration into the life and desires of filmmaker Eisenstein, I do not know enough about the filmmaker to be certain. But maybe Sergei himself would fall in love with this movie. I certainly did.

I want to see it again, too -- with English subtitles included, because, even though the film is spoken mostly in English, the accents of its two stars (one Finnish, the other Mexican) are so strong that I suspect I missed enough of the dialog to need a second viewing. Visually, too, it's such a knockout that it warrants another look.

Historically, the movie tampers with the time that Eisenstein, having departed the United States for Mexico in 1931, where he hoped to make a film (he did indeed shoot more than two miles of film stock), but instead -- as shown here, at least -- gets more involved with his guide, Palomino Cañedo (played by the quietly commanding Mexican actor, Luis Alberti), who opens Eisenstein's heart, mind and ass to new worlds of pleasure and ideas.

In addition to its gorgeous location photography and interior sets, much of the movie takes place in and around a very large bed (above) that proves pivotal to a number of scenes. In the role of Eisenstein, Mr. Bäck seems a rather inspired choice. The actor, below, who looks a good like like his real-life counterpart, combines a kind of loopy, clownish behavior with a physicality and sexuality that prove oddly charismatic.

In the role of his guide, Señor Alberti (shown below, right), a man of small, thin stature who possesses very large penile/genital package, seems born to disrobe -- which he does several times in the course of the film.

Greenaway uses this character of "guide" in ways both obvious and symbolic, never more so than in the film's prize sex scene in which this man of clearly Indian ancestry tutors our filmmaker in the joys of sex, as well as the philosophy of the conquered and conqueror, planting a flag in a place where, up till now, I don't think we've seen it dwell.

For all its visual pleasures -- including a couple of dramatic and gorgeous sudden changes of perspective -- Eisenstein in Guamajuato is also full of history (the entourage of Upton Sinclair makes an appearance here), ideas and provocations.

The filmmaker seems to have taken what is known of Eisenstein's time in Mexico and embroidered this with extravagant visuals that perfectly underscore what is going on physically and emotionally: exploration, loneliness, discovery, transgression.

If we get much more into the mind and body of the filmmaker rather than the guide, that's fine, as Palomino's character exists mostly to bring forth the repressed -- sexually and politically -- side of Eisenstein. What the filmmaker needs, as his wife tells him in one of the several phone conversations, "Is a secretary, a nurse, and a bum wiper."

Intercut periodically are scenes from the filmmaker's greatest hits, as well as some sexual animation that stands in for what arthouse/mainstream audiences are not quite ready to view just yet.

All in all, this is one hell of a surprising, eye-opening, mind-expanding ride. And I can't help but wonder what its viewers will think the next time they see one of Eisenstein's classics?

From Strand Releasing and running 105 minutes, the movie opens this Friday in New York (at the Angelika Film Center and the Lincoln Plaza Cinema) and in Los Angeles (at Laemmle's Royal and Playhouse 7). In the weeks to come, it will hit theaters nationwide on a limited basis. Click here, and then click on "Screenings"  to see all currently scheduled playdates.

Want the "skinny" on student prostitution? Malgoska Szumowska's silly ELLES arrives

Student prosti-tution, they say, is on the rise. And why not? Our students -- just as is the rest of the world, excepting the very rich -- are in economic trouble, getting charged more for tuition and loans and facing a woeful job market once they enter the workplace. If you've got it, kids, since this is an increa-singly market-oriented society, you might as well sell it, no? Last year we saw, via IFC and VOD a most interesting exploration of this phenomenon, starring the very good Déborah François, directed by Emmanuelle Bercot and titled Student Services. That film, which you really should see, is perhaps ten times better than the piece of Polish/French ordure opening this week and calling itself ELLES.

All right: I am being too hard on this movie, co-written (with Tine Byrckel) and directed by Malgoska Szumowska (shown at left), which is little more than a cheap tease. It pretends to deal with its subject while serving it up in the most obvious been-there, done-that manner, in which a journalist (Juliette Binoche, below), writing a piece on prostitution for Elle magazine (the movie certainly has all the depth of that publication), begins using her interviews as fodder for her own sexual fantasies. It fooled poor Piers Handling of the Toronto Film Fest into thinking that it was placing "female sexuality, in all its complexity, under a microscope," Hah. What we get is more the usual male sexual fantasies, served up by --  surprise -- women! I am sorry, but the fact that this movie was made by women lets no one off the hook for dishing out drivel.

You watch and you wait and you wonder when, finally, will something slightly original hit the screen? Nothing does until maybe the golden shower that one of the clients offers his girl, from a discrete angle, of course. You also hope for a little richness or depth of character, but everything we see and hear, if you've witnessed a few films in your time, you could (and probably will) create in your head as the movie proceeds, doing a better job than have the filmmakers. Elles, I'm afraid, is cliché central.

Does our little Polish lass (a very zoftig Joanna Kulig, above) have parental problems? Check? Will mommy discover her daughter's dirty doings? Check. Does our journalist have issues with her hubby at home? Check. Will these surface most dramatically during the dinner party that husband has scheduled with his boss. Double check. And on and on. It's not that the acting isn't believable, the photography pretty to look at and the sexual activity pant-worthy. But it all adds up to a big fat nothing.

Poor Ms Binoche, who, as usual, gives herself over to her role 100 per cent, gets stuck with doing things like masturbating intently and ferociously, and, in an embarrassingly self-conscious and slobbery eating scene, is barely able to keep food from dribbling down her chin. Wow -- that's so real!

Wasted in this mix are some fine actors like Anaïs Demoustier (above, from last year's Living On Love Alone) as the other of Binoche's interviews, and Louis-Do de Lencquesaing (Father of My Children) as her somewhat clueless hubby. A frustratingly empty exercise, which for some may provide a turn-on (hell, use your imagination and have more fun), Elles, unrated, opens this Friday, April 27, in Atlanta, Los Angeles, New York City, St. Louis and Washington DC -- with many other cities to follow in the weeks to come. For all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters, click here -- then scroll down.

Getting a jones for Preston Miller's JONES, an earlier film from the God's Land director; it's on FANDOR now -- for free!

Since God's Land was (and still is) my favorite film from last year -- this doesn't necessarily make it the "best" film, by the way, just my personal favorite because it went places and did things for me that no other movie accom-plished (my earlier review is here) -- I wanted to take a look at something else from its filmmaker, Preston Miller. Mr. Miller was kind enough to send me a DVD of his earlier movie JONES, which I finally got around to watching the morning. It's different enough in some ways, similar in others, to make Miller seem an even more interesting director and one worth keeping an eye on.

What the two films have most in common, I think, is Miller's interest in filming in real time (the filmmaker is shown at left). He edits a good deal less than do many other filmmakers, and while this made God's Land pretty lengthy (nearly three hours), Jones is surprisingly short -- just 76 minutes. The title refers to the title character (played oddly but indelibly by a Brooklynite from Texas named Trey Albright), and also -- perhaps not by intention but by the way art is created sub-consciously -- to both the Jones Mr. Jones has for many things Asian, and the Jones some of us viewers may get from watching Albright (below) in the altogether, full-frontal and (in one scene, at least, semi-erect.

The actor has a good body: muscular (but not "toned"), pale and freckled, and he uses it naturally and easily, whether clothed in a business suit (below: Jones is up in New York City on business, shooting a video for a legal deposition) or in nothing at all. Most odd is his non-business attire, as he strolls around Manhattan in what is clearly chilly weather, clad only in a jeans and a t-shirt, while everyone around him wears sweaters and/or jackets.

This creates an odd tension, setting Jones apart in yet one more manner, as he wanders the Big Apple,

drifting into a bar and engaging in conversation with a fellow (Bob Cabrini, above, right) who just might be a "made" man,

taking a subway to the end of its line,

and hiring a call girl (Amy Chiang, above, but below Jones).

The single really odd thing in the film is how we finally cannot hear all of Jones' dialog. We hear what the other person is saying, but sometimes (unless this was a glitch in the DVD*) we can't hear what actor Albright is saying, particularly in that bar scene. Whether this means that what he is saying is relatively unimportant, or maybe boring (the dialog is not what you would call slick) I don't know. I think this cutting-it-out, however, is somewhat misjudged, but as a stylistic "tic," it's no deal-breaker.

The sex scenes are quite realistic, so if this sort of thing disturbs you, be warned. They are not, however, unpleasant. They're just there, and every bit as natural as is Jones himself. Since the character, we have already learned, is happily married to a woman expecting his child, the question of why he is doing what he is doing does crop up.

Mid-sex, he suddenly seems to either lose his erection or have his attention wander. We learn why, in interesting fashion, at a later point in the film. But for now, as we know he craves Asian culture, I would say he is simply acting like men often act when on a business trip -- getting what they cannot get at home, adultery and Moses' commandment be damned. (Jones also engages with a young woman in the street -- photo at bottom -- who's having a problem with her new infant, and we see him react a bit haltingly to the prospect of being a father.)

Needing more of this special Asian hospitality, Jones craves a second night of pleasure but maybe wants to save money by going to the establishment itself (it's $200 a pop for the girl to come to him, but only $150 if he goes to her). This leads to the film's quiet climax, in which our hero gets a bit more (and less) than he bargained for.

Jones seems to me a nice precursor to Miller's later film: thoughtful, never less than interesting and very well-acted and directed. Made in 2005, it shows a filmmaker exploring and taking chances, both of which pay off here -- but even more beautifully and spectacularly in God's Land. You can savor Jones on Fandor now. In fact, the film site is offering a free 7-day pass, and if you log in with Facebook, you can watch the whole movie free. Might be a good way to get acquainted with Jones and with Fandor.
Or, you can purchase a Jones DVD here.

* It apparently was a DVD glitch. Preston Miller has informed me that the Jones character is indeed meant to be heard throughout the bar scenes, and that the DVD I obtained had somehow mis-fired. For those of you watching the film via Fandor, don't worry: Miller quickly went on Fandor to make sure that its copy was OK. It is.

Michael Rowe's LEAP YEAR: a difficult and challenging look at an S&M relationship

When we first see Laura, the full-bodied if a bit dowdy young women at the center of LEAP YEAR (Año bisiesto), she seems an odd choice for the lead character in a film about an unusual sexual relationship. She appears to work as some sort of "reporter," has an oddly distant phone relationship with her mother, is quite close to her brother, enjoys looking surreptitiously down at her elderly neighbors' patio and -- as we soon learn -- is given to relatively anonymous one-night-stands with men whom she brings home after tarting herself up for an evening out.

The film's director and co-writer (with Lucia Carreras), Michael Rowe, is shown at left. Even as a bottle-blond, he looks darkly handsome enough to have been an actor, but evidently he chose film-making instead. Leap Year, his first endeavor, is by any standard a very good movie. Its subject matter (a sexual affair that turns heavily sadistic/masochistic) and its visual handling of that subject matter (full-frontal, no holds barred) almost guaran-tees that the film will cause attention and create a buzz. And yet Rowe's storytelling style -- carefully obser-ved and quietly told -- helps makes even the heavy-duty sex scenes surprisingly real and, most important, deeply, genuinely (and often uncomfortably) "felt."

By the end of Leap Year (the film takes place in that special year -- about one in every four -- in which an extra day is added to the month of February), Mr. Rowe has brought us up close to his character, Laura (above and below), about as intimately as we could hope. And not just to Laura herself, but to her family -- only one of whom, her beloved brother, we actually meet.

We meet a few of her sex objects, too, but it is not until the third or fourth one comes upon the scene (maybe a half-hour into things) that one of her "men" actually sticks around. This is due to the quietly growing allure of s&m, the former for her new man, Arturo, and the latter for Laura herself. (Yes, those are cigarette burns, below, on her breasts.)

Leap Year is one of the most sexually arousing movies I have seen -- up to a point. Once the s&M begins, not being into that, I usually turn off. Yet the gift that Mr. Rowe's film bestows is to allow us to enter that world and understand it at least well enough to accept it -- on screen and for now -- without running for the nearest exit.

Laura's character achieves a surprising fullness, thanks to the filmmakers' skills and to that of his leading lady  Monica del Carmen. Ms del Carmen, above and above, brings us up so close to the details of Laura's life and to her needs and desires, that we go right along with it all, up until...  This actress also gives one of the most arousing performances, sexually speaking, that I have ever seen. Clothed, she's perfectly presentable (except perhaps when seen picking her nose); unclothed and in heat, she is simply extraordinary. She lets down not just the nudity barrier, but the one that usually covers the soul.

Likewise, in the role of her new paramour, Gustavo Sánchez Parra (above) from La misma luna, My Mexican Shivah and Casi divas) maintains just the right balance of secrecy combined with a yearning for intimacy. As crazy sexually as these two get, they never lose their humanity. Consequently, we want the best for them, even as we live in fear of what that "best" might be.

By the finale, the suspense has reached major proportions, as we cushion ourselves for the worst. (Or is it the best? You'd have to be very masochistic to welcome this.)  And yet we never let go of our caring for this pair. Which is a major accomplishment, I think, on the part of Rowe, who quietly takes us deep into dysfunctional-family territory, in one of the subtlest ways I have seen handled in a movie to date.

Leap Year (which is not to be confused with that Amy Adams/Matthew Goode movie of the same name, also made in 2010), from Strand Releasing, in Spanish with English subtitles, opens tomorrow, Friday, June 24, in New York City at the Cinema Village. And elsewhere, soon,  I hope.