Streaming must: The Hugh Grant renaissance continues via Stephen Frear's tone-perfect joy, A VERY ENGLISH SCANDAL

Never off the grid of television or movie screens for more than a year or so, at longest, British actor Hugh Grant is now approaching his senior years (he turns 58 this September) with a renewed vigor and presence that seems nothing short of remarkable. Think for a moment of his last three outings. In 2016, he got a Golden Globe nomination for his work as the helpful, loving and straying husband to and in Florence Foster Jenkins. I hope you did not miss his delightful and versatile work in 2017's Paddington 2, which ought to have garnered him a Best Supporting Oscar were it not that the Academy seldom takes seriously great comic acting (his musical number during the end credits alone is sensational). Paddington 2, by the way, has the distinction of being the most highly rated movie ever on Rotten Tomatoes. (Deservedly so, too. It gives non-stop pleasure and delight, while everyone connected with the film -- actors, writers, director, costumers, production designers -- is top-notch.)

Now we have A VERY ENGLISH SCANDAL, the new three-part series from BBC One, available to stream via Amazon Prime. As directed by Stephen Frears (shown at right), one of the world's best but least-fully-appreciated filmmakers, with a screenplay by Russell T. Davies and John Preston, the movie manages what can only be called a near-perfect tone throughout. What I mean is that, although it deals with "criminal" sexuality (as homosexuality was stupidly viewed in Britain, as the movie's time period begins), betrayal, infidelity, blackmail and murder, the film itself is about as witty and consistently delightful as you could believe possible, given the subject matter.

How Frears, Davies, Preston and their enormously gifted cast manage this is by never over-doing the comedy but letting it flow naturally from these characters, many of whom are entitled, pompous and hugely hypocritical British males of the 1960 and 70s. The humanity of every single character here is never for a moment lost, even as we delight again and again in their foibles. Their clever, sometimes near-poetic/pornographic dialog flows so readily and naturally that to miss even a line or two would be a shame indeed.

Mr. Grant (above) is at his coldest, silliest and often saddest here, and he is matched scene for scene by the wonderful Ben Whishaw (below), who plays the most truthful, least hypocritical character in the film -- even if his antics often prove quite shocking, considering the time frame of the film.

That the movie is based on a real-life tale -- do stay for the end-credit sequence that will bring you up-to-date on what happened to these people -- only makes the goings-on that much more mind-boggling fun.

From practically the first encounter we view -- that of Grant's character, the light of the Liberal Party, Jeremy Thorpe, and his good friend Peter Bessell (played by a terrific Alex Jennings, above, right), as the two discuss their sexual preferences, the banter is simultaneously surprising, beautifully restrained yet still jolting, and funny despite itself. It also perfectly encapsulates the men's sense of entitlement: so absolute that's it's simply a given.

How the tale unfurls to encompass the most awful things -- most of which do not, finally, occur -- simply increases the series' black humor, with a wonderful array of subsidiary near-nitwits brought into the plot. (Two of these -- played by Blake Harrison above, left, and Dyfan Dwyfor above, right -- are especially funny.)

Mr. Frears usually jumps and mashes genres and I suspect this proves a great help in his ability to achieve his special and remarkable consistent "tone" within a film that melds genres so thoroughly (think of his work in The Grifters, Hero, Dirty Pretty Things, Tamara Drew and Lay the Favorite, just for starters). He manages this again here, achieving in the process one of his most succulent successes.

As one might expect in a tale that deal so much with homosexuality, it is the men here with whom we are most concerned. And yet, the few women who appear in any way prominently are brought to fine life by the actresses involved. Especially good are Patricia Hodge (two photos up) as Thorpe's mum, Monica Dolan (above, right) as his second wife,

and a deliciously on-target Michelle Dotrice (above, right, with very large dog) as the bar owner who proves such an aid to the Whishaw character in his time of need.

As for Mister Whishaw (above and below), who comes through with colors flying, if this fine actor ever get another role as juicy as this one, I shall be first in line to see the result. As Norman Josiffe/Norman Scott, he so thoroughly gives over to the bizarre, amazing and anything-but-politically-correct personality of this young man that he earns completely our disbelief, shock and finally enormous admiration.

What a story -- and how very well it has been told! You can catch it now via Amazon streaming. If you're already an Amazon Prime member, it's free -- this three-part series alone makes Prime worth the entire year's membership -- but if not, the episodes are well worth paying for.

Randall Wright's HOCKNEY proves a model doc about a fine artist very much worth exploring

Even folk who are not particularly prone to enjoying fine art probably know some of the work of David Hockney, the British artist who came to America in the 1960s and found it satisfied him in all kinds of ways. His output down the decades since has included paintings of simplicity, sophistication and remarkable use of color; mind-expanding photography in which the placement and framing is as important as the photographs themselves; and some colorful, lively set design. The artist and his work have continued to evolve, and seeing/understanding this evolution is one of the several accomplishments of the fine new documentary by Randall Wright called simply HOCKNEY.

Mr. Wright, shown at left, clearly loves his subject and wants us to share that love. It's not difficult. Via history -- of family and country (birthplace and adopted venue) -- friends, lovers and sources of inspiration, Mr. Wright gives us as close to the whole story as we're likely to see for some time to come. This is a much different, more standard-issue documentary than the very odd (for its time) narrative/doc combo, A Bigger Splash made back in the 1970s, during the time Hockney was reeling from the breakup with his lover (perhaps the only important one in his life), Peter Schlesinger. Wright's film is much more professional than Jack Hazan's but the two no doubt complement each other in very interesting ways. (TrustMovies has not seen A Bigger Splash in maybe 20 years, so his memory of it may need some rebooting.)

We see Schlesinger (above, right) in the new film, too, looking as hot and beautiful as ever, and even a little full-frontal of Mr. Hockney himself -- who seems more than happy to have us filled in -- via various friends -- about his private and professional life.

Hockney takes us from Bradford, England, the artist's birthplace, to his arrival in New York City and then out to Southern California, where he found his home-away-from-home. The artist is best known for his paintings of So.Cal -- and the doc let us see how the place inspired him and what he has given back to it. You come away from this film with a real appreciation for the way in which Hockney sees, among other things, water and the play of light on this, and how, earlier in his career, he used photographs (black-and-white, never color) as the starting point for much of his work.

Hockney's friendship with the late art historian, critic and curator, Henry Geldzahler is explored here, too, and the reminiscences of others of his set are often funny and telling. The artist's own memories prove a lot of fun, too, as he speaks about everything from his parents to Picasso and his run-in with British Customs regarding a cache of male nude magazines.

As an openly gay man throughout much of his adult life, Hockey differed from, say, Andy Warhol (his art, for my money, is a lot better than Warhol's), and this openness becomes part of the charm and genuineness of the documentary. Hockney's homosexuality certainly influenced his art and life, but it seems to have done so in a relatively open and healthy way -- unusual at the time (and even, dare we say, today).

Exactly when major success came to Hockney (and how) is something the movie somehow misses -- unless, of course, he was a huge success from painting number one. Otherwise, the film covers most of the bases and does so with intelligence, energy and as much style as a doc of this sort can muster. Style, in any case, is what Mr. Hockney has in spades, and this translates nicely from his art onto the screen.

From Film Movement and running a lengthy-but-never-uninteresting 112 minutes, Hockney opens today, Friday, April 22, in New York (at The Film Society of Lincoln Center and the new Metrograph) and in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal and Playhouse 7.  To see all currently scheduled playdates, with cities and theaters listed, click here and then scroll down.

Matt Sobel's TAKE ME TO THE RIVER: family drama full of innuendo, shock and withholding

Having not a little in common with last week's much better movie, The Automatic Hate, this week's opener, TAKE ME TO THE RIVER, is also a family drama about the past and secrets and how all this inevitably catches up with us. It features some fine performances, along with direction that pushes these to the fore, while paying attention to the place-specific (Nebraska) visuals and to a screenplay (also by Mr. Sobel) that dispenses with almost everything except the insistently heavy-handed and secret-laden plot.

The filmmaker, pictured at left, begins and ends his films with his "first family" in the car, arriving then departing from a family reunion that has turned into a kind of disaster. (Can you think of a family reunion in movies that has not? TrustMovies is certain that there must have been one or two, but he can't remember them just now.) The film's similar beginning/ending duplicates those of another, also much better movie, from a few years ago, The Way Way Back. What goes on in between, however, is quite different.

So eager is Mr. Sobel to get right into things that he practically dispenses with any of the reunion, other than an immediate family photograph and some odd "bonding" between Ryder, the teenage son from California (played by Logan Miller, above, right), and one of his cousins, a wise/bizarre-beyond-her-years little girl named Molly (played quite wisely and bizarrely by Ursula Parker, below).

Something very strange happens, which immediately divides the reunion into us vs them (Molly's dad, played with unusual anger and creepiness by Josh Hamilton -- below, right -- is the primary "them"), and this leads the film's several main characters, into even stranger things.

The filmmaker, I think, can be given credit for not wanting to answer all the questions his plot raises. But when the characters themselves do not bother to ask the most important questions here -- one in particular: What happened to Molly? demands an answer -- believability soon goes out the window.

Much is made, going into the movie, about Ryder's homosexuality and whether or not this should be kept from the Nebraska relatives. His mom (Robin Weigert, above, left) and dad (Richard Schiff, above, right. who also, coincidentally, played one of the protagonist's dads in The Automatic Hate) suggest exactly that, but by the end of this strange movie, that homosexuality seems to have been used mainly to demonstrate this family's predilection for deviant sexuality of all kinds. Golly, it just must be in our DNA!

Of course it is. But so is our need for explanations, answers to questions, and in fact, the need to ask those question. Instead Take Me to the River is content to offer up innuendo, a little sexual shock and perhaps incipient lobotomization in place of characters who act alive and alert. (Unless perhaps, Mr. Sobel is saying something about America's "red" states and what they spawn).

Well, the movie's certainly edgy and thought-provoking. I just wish it were a little more real. From Film Movement and running 85 minutes, it has played a number of film festivals across the country over the past six months and now opens this Friday, March 18, in New York City at Landmark's Sunshine Cinema and the following Friday, March 25, at Landmark's NuArt in Los Angeles. You can see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters by clicking here and then scrolling down.

Better late than... Alain Guiraudie's succulent THE KING OF ESCAPE gets theatrical premiere at AFA

Finally. This odd and original movie, five years old -- from a director, Alain Guiraudie, who's been working for nearly a quarter century but only now (thanks to Stranger by the Lake) is getting some deserved notoriety -- is at last receiving its U.S. theatrical release via Anthology Film Archives here in New York City. In THE KING OF ESCAPE, M. Guiraudie, shown below back in 2009 when this film was made, picks up on themes and places seen later in Stranger by the Lake.

Here are all kinds of sexuality (particularly homo- and bi-), the working class' need to offset its work with relaxation, and locations set in the glorious and sparsely populated French countryside. But as dark and unsettling as was Stranger by the Lake regarding our need for self-abasement and punishment, sex and death, The King of Escape, is every bit as light-hearted and frisky as its explores our entwined need for the fulfillment of life, love and sex, while honoring (and questioning) the family ties that bind.

Both Stranger and King are quite enjoyable to watch and very well-made, with the latter perhaps gaining an edge over the former due to its sheer originality and joie de vivre. (I've now seen both films twice.) What happens in King is bizarre and all over the place yet, as depicted by Guiraudie, it's remains oddly believable--and certainly understandable.

I first covered the film (stills from which are shown above and below) when it initially played NYC as part of the 2010 Rendez-vous with French Cinema and found it an unusually enticing and surprising work, with a wonderfully inclusive sense of the amazements that sex of all kinds can bring. In one of its best scenes, an 80-year-old man, known for the size of his member and still randy as hell (played by Jean Toscan, shown below, center), explains to his new half-his-age love, how he spent the first several decades of his marriage dutifully fucking his wife each day (along with several other ladies), never realizing till now that there was a whole regiment of men out there, just waiting to be explored and pleased.

The marketing of tractors, the importance of their color, and the gay and overweight fellow who sells them (the marvelous Ludovic Berthillot, below); competition among salesmen; a Viagra-like mushroom found in the local terrain, and a gorgeous and wonderfully pliable young girl (Hafsia Herzi, seen above in several shots) who gets a crush on our gay hero when he tries to protect her from some nasty local boys -- all of this combines to create a world never before seen by us prosaic Americans.

It's difficult to explain just how cleverly Guiraudie has wrapped all this together -- so loosely yet so neatly. His attitude toward it all is clear and non-judgmental and so allows us to view surprising things in a manner that we've not yet experienced. And for once, the policeman in charge of things (below, left) turn out to be, well, quite helpful and understanding.

The King of Escape is as unusual a movie as you are likely to find, so I urge you to seek it out. This week-long run may be your first and last chance to view it, here in the USA, at least. The film plays at AFA beginning this Friday, April 11, through Thursday, April 17. Click here for directions and here for tickets.

Celebrating STRANGER BY THE LAKE's opening, the FSLC offers an Alain Guiraudie retrospective

Now that TrustMovies has seen four of the very unusual films of Alain Guiraudie (two of them twice, and one of them, a short, mostly without its English subtitles), I'm on board with the notion that this non-mainstream French movie-maker is a force with which to reckon. (The director, with the sun clearly in his eyes, is shown at left during the most recent Cannes film fest.) Though I don't know quite what to make of a couple of his earlier films, it seems to me pretty clear that with each new one, he grows more comprehen-sible and enjoyable -- unless you're the type of film-goer who demands inscrutability.

This is not to say that M. Guiraudie is anywhere near "obvious." Hardly. Instead, his movies draw you in while making you puzzle things out. But of late, he is giving his audience a bit more terra firma on which to stand while doing that puzzling. His latest film, STRANGER BY THE LAKE, (L'inconnu du lac), which I covered briefly when it played the New York Film Festival last fall (that post is here), finally opens this coming Friday, January 24, in New York (at the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center and the IFC Center) and in Los Angeles on January 31 (Laemmle's Playhouse 7).

In telling its tale of a young man who goes to a gay cruising area to get his rocks off, as well to a to visit friends, Guiraudie broadens his canvas and deepens his themes. Our "hero" Franck (Pierre Delladonchamps, above, left, and below, right) meets a couple of unusual fellows -- one an overweight but interesting and presumably straight man (Patrick D'Assumçao, above, right) who may be looking for something more; 

another a hot-looking hunk (Christophe Paou, above, left) who definitely wants something more -- and so comes face to face with a creepy and hugely unsettling death wish. The result is a movie that quietly takes hold of your throat and begins ever-so-slightly to squeeze.

Interestingly, Stranger by the Lake picks up on themes and places seen earlier in M. Guiraudie's very unusual movie The King of Escape (Le roi de l'évasion): all kinds of sexuality (particularly homo- and bi-), the working class' need to offset their work with relaxation, and locations set in the glorious and sparsely populated French countryside. But as relatively lighthearted as is King of Escape, Stranger/Lake is every bit as dark, exploring our entwined needs for the fulfillment of life, love, sex and death.

Both films are quite enjoyable to watch and very well-made, with Stranger an improvement even over King -- which proved an even bigger improvement over two of Guiraudie's earlier works that I also watched in preparation for the upcoming series, titled Alain Guiraudie: King of Escape, from the Film Society of Lincoln Center which opens Friday at the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center, concurrent with the debut of the filmmaker's latest work.

I covered King of Escape (stills from the film are shown above and below) when it played NYC as part of the 2010 Rendez-vous with French Cinema and found it an unusually enticing and surprising work, with a wonderfully inclusive sense of the amazements that sex of all kinds can bring. In one of its best scenes, an 80-year-old man, hung like a horse and still randy as hell (played by Jean Toscan, shown below, center), explains to his new half-his-age love, how he spent the first several decades of his marriage dutifully fucking his wife each day (along with several other ladies), never realizing till now that there was a whole regiment of men out there, just waiting to be explored and pleased.

In all, this series unleashes nine of Guiraudie's films (missing is only the movie he made for French television in 2008, On m'a volé mon adolescence). Each that I've seen seems to explore the human need for connection via the physical body. Guiraudie's 1998 short La force des chose finds that connection via physical abuse and kidnapping (not to worry: this is all on a lighter comic/philosophical plane). Although --since this was the one film, 15 minutes in length, 11 of which were shown without English subtitles, that I couldn't fully understand -- you'll have to take my ideas with a grain of salt. (What's that? Ah, I see: You do this as a matter of course.)

More interesting -- as well as, at 107 minutes, the lengthiest of Guiraudie's films I've seen -- is his 2003 NO REST FOR THE BRAVE (Pas de repos pour les braves). In some ways this is the most challenging of the four films, if also the least accessible. In it, the filmmaker tackles our fear of death (maybe also our even deeper fear of life), as his hero, Basile (played by Thomas Suire, in his film debut), plays a kid who refuses to sleep because he's afraid he'll never again awaken.

The movie itself is often like a dream: People -- the working class, as in all of his films -- come and go bizarrely; our hero moves from the City of the Living to Deadville; and there is one simply gorgeous, mystical, chilling special effect in which an old man disappears under a wave.

There is also, being French, a whole lot of philosophical... well, drivel is maybe too strong a word, but the film does veer toward pretension now and again. But it is also, from time to time, quite a lot of fun, as we engage in everything from car chases (with the villains on foot) to loveplay and hair-breath escapes. In a way this movie is a genre-jumper -- except that Guiraudie, here testing the waters with his first full-length endeavor, doesn't always seem sure which genre he's actually in.

The film is also a coming-of-age/coming-of-intelligence movie, as well as sci-fi/fantasy. So gear up for a trip and a half. If you miss it during the FSLC's retrospective, never fear. It is actually available in the USA via TLA Video where you can stream it at a reasonable price. There are five more films, full-length and short, to be seen in the series. Click here to see the entire Guiraudie schedule.

The photo of M. Guiraudie, at top, is by

Gareth Cattermole, courtesy of Getty Images.

Tribeca LOOSE CANNONS: Ferzan Ozpetek cooks up a hearty, friends 'n family stew

Who'd have imagined that a current movie about a gay man coming out to his family might have anything remotely new or interesting or even particularly entertaining to say?  Turkish-born, Italian-bred Ferzan Ozpetek (shown below): that's who -- and so he made this film.  Bless him for it -- because LOOSE CANNONS (Mine vaganti) turns out to be not only new, interesting and entertaining but deeply felt, lavishly funny and one of the most visually beautiful movies to arrive on our shores in quite some time. (It was filmed in Southern Italy, in and around the city of Lecce.)

Premiering this past February at the Berlinale, it was chosen for the just-concluding Tribeca Film Festival, where -- the evening I viewed it -- audience response seemed overwhelmingly enthusiastic.  It plays but one more time, tomorrow, Saturday, May 1 (click here, scroll and down and click again on Rush Tickets).  Because you can never be certain that a foreign-language film, even from a director as well known as this one, will secure distribution these days, I recommend you see this movie now.

Signore Ozpetek has been to the gay well a few times before -- Steam, Ignorant Fairies, Facing Windows, Saturn in Opposition -- always from a different angle and always successfully.  What he consistently manages, and what I think I love most about his work, is that he approach homosexuality as one part, sometimes hugely important, other times less so, of the world at large, in which so much else is terribly important, too.  Family, friendship, work, health (mental and physical) are prime among these, and in Loose Cannons, they come together in a combustible mix that offers everything from drama to farce, fantasy to a reality that moves from chuckles to tears.

A young man named Tomasso (Riccardo Scamarcio, shown above, left), from a wealthy family whose business is pasta-making and who is about to join forces with another prominent family, has deci-
ded to own up to his homosexual orientation -- after which, he ex-
pects his father to chuck him out of home and business, freeing him to move in with his lover and pursue a writing career. Not quite. One big surprise lies in store, followed by several lesser -- most of which cause ebullient laughter but sometimes a deep loneliness.

You may know young Scamarcio from My Brother Is an Only Child, or from Costa-Gavras' still unreleased Eden Is West. After being swaggering and studly in the former, frightened and vulnerable in the latter, he is by necessity manipulative and quietly thoughtful here -- and is proving himself a more versatile actor than the pretty face with the very sexy body that we might have initially imagined.  While this movie is primarily Tomasso's story, Ozpetek insists on seeing things from many angles, and so we slowly begin to understand -- and feel for -- several generations.

The film begins, in fact, with a reminiscence of the grand-
mother (Ilaria Occhini, at right, seated) regarding her younger days (the penulti-
mate photo, below).  We learn what happened to her only slowly. The co-writer (with Ivan Cotroneo) and director gives us enough information to begin to piece together the story of this now aged but still gloriously strong woman, but we do not know it all until the finale.  Meanwhile we meet a group of people -- family, friends, business associates -- who are as diverse as they are memorable.  Dad (the wonderful Ennio Fantastichini, shown at right, three photos above), mom, Aunt Luciana (dizzy and sweetly sad Elena Sofia Ricci, shown two photos above, center, with glasses), brother Antonio (a terrific Alessandro Preziosi, standing, above right) and especially Alba, the daughter of the prospective business partner, played by the alluring Nicole Grimaudo (below, center).  Ms Grimaudo, in particular, captures a character -- nasty, funny, distant, dark, needy -- who grows more complex with each scene until she very nearly breaks our heart.

One of the great strengths of Ozpetek is allowing us to view life and sexuality from so many points of view: Here we see how the parents looks at things, the grandmother, the younger generation, straights, gays and a couple who may be more bi-oriented than they might like to admit.  There are moments between the two outsiders, Tomasso and Alba, that bond them in ways both sexual and on a level of deep friendship.  There is also some delightfully criss-crossed humor when a group of Tomasso's friends from Rome, shown at bottom, pay a visit.

The film's finale is an amazing blend of fantasy and reality, of time present and past, of what we deeply wish for but may never see.  This scene may remind you of the finale of some other films -- the little-seen-in-America Flight of the Innocent came immediately to my mind -- but Ozpetek makes it his own, and it seems as if everything he has ever learned about cinema is incorporated here.  Threatening to be too much, instead it keeps unfurling until love, sex, family and friends join in a spectacularly vibrant and moving dance of life.

About as arthouse/mainstream as it is possible to get, Loose Cannons delivers the goods.  As I go to press, the film has just won one of the two Tribeca Fest Special Mention Awards. Will some distributor -- Strand, IFC, Film Movement -- please step up to the plate and gift movie-lovers with this joyous celebration?