Solitude in company: Thomas Stuber's original, bittersweet and beautiful IN THE AISLES

It may not be the first film to adapt a Strauss waltz to an unusual visual, but for the most part IN THE AISLES, the new film from Thomas Stuber (he directed and co-wrote it with Clemens Meyer), is an original work of humanist art.

Beginning with its locale -- a kind of German version of Costco during, mostly, the graveyard shift -- the movie introduces a set of characters who slowly grow on you until you come to love them and want to care for them as though they were your very own.

Mr. Stuber, shown at right, takes his sweet time with all of this, so if you demand action and car chases, do please move along. Yet as quiet as all this is, it is also never for a moment boring.

This is due to a screenplay that doles out its information haltingly and pretty much in the manner that these characters themselves would offer it. They don't like to intrude -- on each other or even, it seems, on themselves.

The actors chosen for these roles are very good indeed, and even if you've seen them previously, the characters they play here will seem ideally matched with the performers.

The young man who acts as a kind of guide for us -- because, as the film begins, he is being trained for his first day on the job -- is Christian, played by Franz Rogowski (above, of Transit and Happy End). The object, soon, of Franz's affection is a pert and pretty co-worker named Marion (Sandra Hüller, below, of Toni Erdmann) .

Our "newbie" (Marion's pet name for Christian) is under the tutelage of long-time employee Bruno, whose initial gruff manner belies a sad heart of gold. As played by Peter Kurth, below, left -- the lead villain (one of them, anyway) from Babylon Berlin -- Bruno is a wonderful character, rich, deep and quiet, and one who grows and grows on us, until....

All of the night shift employees, no matter how small the role, are brought to fine and specific life here. Eventually this small group and its place of work becomes a world in itself, one that we are only too happy to abide in for the 125 minutes we're allowed to. In the Aisles proves a small, alternately bright and dark, wonder.

From Music Box Films, in German with English subtitles, the movie opens this Friday, June 14, in New York City at the Village East Cinema, and in Los Angeles on Friday, June 21, at Laemmle's Royal and on June 21 and over the weeks to come expanding to another 15 cities and theaters, including the Bill Cosford Cinema here in the Miami area on July 5. Click here, then scroll down to click on Theatrical Engagements to view all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters.

James Gray's amazement, THE LOST CITY OF Z, tells of British exploration in the Amazon

An unusual combination of intimate family drama, adventure spectacle, and thoughtful, sometimes near-mystical philosophy in which these genres, which could hardly be more different, meld in a most beautiful and affectionate manner, THE LOST CITY OF Z is the kind of movie that will probably stick in the minds (and hearts) of intelligent audiences long after other, more heralded attractions have come and gone.

The work of writer/director James Gray (shown at left) -- whose earlier family dramas from Little Odessa (1994) through Two Lovers (2008) were always fraught and fascinating, until he hit that weirdly-phony-but-gorgeously-photographed bump in the road from 2013, titled The Immigrant -- this new film is not only his best yet, it may very well become a part of the movie canon in terms of exceptional "exploration" films.

What Mr Gray chooses to show and tell us, as his movie moves back and forth between early 20th Century England and several trips to the Amazon jungle in South America, gives us a rich and surprisingly deep portrait of British family life and in particular one man's (the explorer Percy Fawcett) desire to discover what he can about earlier civilizations, along with his deeply help conviction that what unites the world's many "tribes" is their common humanity.

This, of course, runs afoul of the then-held belief of white male British superiority over all else, just as it runs counter to the prevailing notions of the United States' crass and despicable current leader and his money-grubbing, white-supremacist notions. Yet, so strongly does explorer Fawcett believe in this, and so thoroughly does he abide by this in his words and deeds, that this character, played with great strength and precision by actor Charlie Hunnam (above and below) in what is certainly his finest role so far, is finally, if strangely, triumphant. (What a blessing for us and for him that Hunnam didn't have to star in the crapola Fifty Shades of Gray and its sequel, as was initially announced.)

Whether this actor is addressing a roomful of his peers, as below, or engaging in family discussion or discipline, Hunnam is always on target, and his combinations of strength and generosity, manliness and honor combine to form a unusually memorable character. He is able to convey both period believability and the kind of inner character turmoil that neither knows nor demands any particular time frame.

In the able and vast supporting cast are Robert Pattinson (below and barely distinguishable, so immersed is this actor in the role) as Fawcett's second-in-command,

Sienna Miller (below) as his able and enduring wife,

and Tom Holland (below, at right) as the older version of Fawcett's eldest son, who is initially angry with his father but eventually accompanies him on his final journey.

If there's a villain in this mix, it would the character of James Murray (played with a subtlety that turns encouragement into menace by Angus Macfadyen, below), who initially backs financially and even accompanies Fawcett on the voyage until his fear and irresponsibility take over. (Note to explorers: Never allow an overweight crybaby to join your party.)

Certain critics (The New Yorker's for one) have objected to the lack of "madness" in this adventure film. Yet Gray offers both suspense and surprise on these Amazon journeys. But because he is more interested in ideas than action (Percy Fawcett's actions are as much of the mind as of the body), the filmmaker keeps his movie grounded in these ideas, the major one being of our common humanity.

Offering up the typical fighting between the natives and the white explorers/colonizers would have only delivered the usual us vs them, good vs evil -- which is exactly what he entire idea of this film is against.

Instead Mr. Gray gives us one of the most memorable, beautiful finales in the canon of exploration. The final scenes will haunt your memory -- but in the most mysterious and hopeful of ways.

Mr. Gray has always been most interested in telling a good story, and in The Lost City of Z he has finally given us a great one -- and told it in the manner most appropriate and remarkable.

From Bleecker Street and Amazon Studios, the movie opened in a limited run last week and this Friday hits theaters all across the country. Here in South Florida, it will play the Miami area at the AMC Aventura Mall 24, AMC Sunset Place 24, Regal South Beach 18, CMX Brickell City Center 10, O Cinema Miami Beach, Tropic Cinema Key West; in  Broward at the Classic Gateway Theater, Regal Oakwood 18, AMC Pompano Beach 18; and in West Palm Beach-Ft. Pierce at the Cinemark Palace 20, Regal Shadowood, Movies of Delray 5, Movies of Lake Worth,Paragon Wellington 10 AMC City Place 20, Downtown at the Mall Gardens Palm 16 and the AMC Indian River 24 (in Vero Beach). Wherever you are, to find a nearby theater, simply click here.

A beautiful, humane and moving little gem: Katell Quillévéré's HEAL THE LIVING

There are moments in HEAL THE LIVING, the new film from Katell Quillévéré -- whose Love Like Poison (click and scroll down) made an impressive debut back in 2011 -- that are so indelibly beautiful and compassionate, humane and almost shockingly non-judgmental that they near literally take your breath away. One of these comes early on, as the event occurs that sets the film's plot in motion. We enter the mind and spirit of a young man driving a car, and we experience this in such an all-encompassing visual manner combining beauty, understanding and enormous unease that we are simply transported. And we know we're in the hands of a born filmmaker.

Ms Quillévéré (shown at left) and that excellent screenwriter Gilles Taurand have adapted their fine screenplay from the novel by Maylis De Karangal, and the resulting film is one of the more sympathetic to and empathetic of the human condition in memory.  Yes, the movie skirts sentimentality now and again -- dealing as it does with life, death and death that brings life -- yet the filmmaker's choices are usually so specific and clear-headed that viewers are more likely to rejoice than to reject.

It is also rare to see a movie in which all the characters are loved and cherished. This fact, too, ensures that Heal the Living is so resoundingly pro-life (and, no, I'm not talking about abortion) that the movie will make you appreciate and value this world and the people in it to the point that it becomes an immediate must-see. (The film also acts as a kind of artistic antidote to Donald Trump.)

How Quillévéré connects her characters is quite lovely, too. She goes back and forth in time, especially concerning her young protagonist, Simon, played by newcomer Gabin Verdet (above and below, left) who we are certain to see more of, so indelible is this young actor in a most unusual role. How Simon bonds with his girl is presented with enough beauty and joy that it's rather like experiencing your own first love all over again.

When the movie comes to its second set of characters, led by Claire (Anne Dorval, below) as a middle-aged mother with health problems, we don't initially know the connection. But again, so specific and intriguing are the characters in this second family, as well as what we continue learn about them, that we have no trouble hanging on.

To this end, we meet a concert pianist (Alice Taglioni, below, who seems to grow and expand as an actress with each new role) whose place in Claire's life we soon learn. We also meet Claire's two sons, one of whom she clearly favors to the detriment of the other. We also worry and grieve with Simon's parents, played affecting by Emmanuelle Seigner and Kool Shen (shown in photo at bottom).

In between and connecting these two sets of families are the hospital workers and doctors who will end up ministering -- and very well -- to the needs of each. Perhaps the film's most affecting and poignant scene takes place as one young hospital worker, beautifully rendered by Tahar Rahim, (below) explains to an organ donor what is happening. The movie is titled Heal the Living, yet this scene of quiet caring and concern for a corpse is so strange and moving that you may have trouble catching your breath and/or holding back tears.

Unusual, too, is how the filmmaker's documentary-like section devoted to an organ transplant remains so firmly rooted in our co-joined humanity that even the very graphic operation seems as much a part of the movie's capacious depth and breadth as does all else. For a change, regarding this kind of scene, you don't even want to look away.
Yes, this is one remarkable, memorable movie.

From Cohen Media Group and running just 104 minutes, Heal the Living opens this Friday, April 14, in New York City at the newly renovated Quad Cinema, and in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Monica Film Center. Elsewhere? I hope so, but the Cohen web site for the film isn't so far giving us any clues.

Pagnol's Marseille Trilogy--MARIUS, FANNY & CESAR--returns in beautiful new 4K transfers

For those who found themselves less than thrilled with Daniel Auteuil's semi-recent remake of Fanny and Marius (his César was announced but never seems to have made it to production), the newly restored, splendid 4K transfer of the original Marseille Trilogy by Marcel Pagnol from Janus Films should prove eye- and heart-opening. TrustMovies enjoyed Auteuil's work, while finding his adaptation of The Well-Digger's Daughter far superior to either his Fanny or Marius) but TM did wonder, post-viewing, why this "classic" trilogy was so highly revered.
Now, he knows.

For a whole lot of reasons, this original appears to be pretty much irreplaceable. And the truly gorgeous restoration it has now received should result in a slew of new fans. Though Pagnol directed only César, the final of the three films, he adapted all of them from his original plays, and he probably learned a lot by watching his other two directors at work (Alexander Korda on Marius and Marc Allégret on Fanny). The attribution of Pagnol (shown above) as the auteur here is not in the least misplaced, however, because it is his screenplays, specifically his amazing dialog (of which there is a ton) that account for what a knockout these three films are: individually, and even more so in their entirety.

Pagnol was a supreme humanist, and the skill with which he has created his dialog uncovers, time after time, the viewpoints of all his characters. These viewpoints conflict, which makes for the drama, but the author allows us to see each differing one so clearly that we identify with all his people. (Pagnol allows us to take sides, of course, but he doesn't unduly push us into one or the other.)

In the first of the three films, Marius, we meet all the many characters who inhabit this little seaside corner of Marseille, especially bar owner César, his son Marius, and the young woman the latter is in love with, Fanny. Marius is also in love with the sea and longs to sail off on it, and this tug-of-war between his two loves finally results in his sailing away and leaving Fanny pregnant -- though neither of them realizes this at the time.

The remaining two films, Fanny and César, let us see what happens over the next 20 years involving these main characters, as well as their relatives and friends, with special emphasis on an older gentleman named Honoré Panisse, a successful tradesman in town who also loves Fanny and proves pivotal to all that plays out.

In addition to being smitten with humanity in its many specifics, Pagnol was interested in how our needs and desires play with and against the rules of society. He wanted justice, all right, but only so far as it genuinely served the people. His take on everything -- from religion to sexuality, parenting to criminality, hypocrisy to doing-the-right-thing-for-the-right-reason -- is bracing, and the manner in which he tracks all this via his wonderful conversations between characters is among the most assured and entertaining in cinema history.

All this is evident in incident after incident: from stopping a public streetcar so that the players in a game of boules can take proper measurements to the nasty old joke of placing a hat over a rock in the street and watching what happens. Among the many delights is one of the great end-of-life "confession" scenes in which a dying man tells his priest that his greatest sin was how much he enjoyed indulging in that sin. This leads to one of Pagnol's many super-quotable lines, as the priest responds quite properly, "If sinning made us suffer, we'd all be saints,"

Pagnol is so full of rich scenes featuring wonderful dialog that you'll long to remember each and every one. And if these films sometimes grow operatic, not to worry. This is great opera. It's soap opera, too -- but raised to such high level that you won't mind one bit. Again and again, as you're listening intently to that dialog (or, more probably unless you speak French, reading those English subtitles), you'll be continually amazed by the fact that all these conflicting viewpoints are somehow correct -- as is true of all great tales that traffic in genuine humanity.

From Janus Films and running a total of nearly seven hours, the Marseille Trilogy makes its 4K, hi-def debut this Wednesday, January 4, at New York City's Film Forum for a nine-day run. Each film has a separate admission, but all three can often be seen on the same day. Click here to view the schedule and/or purchase tickets. Will Pagnol's Marseille Trilogy be shown elsewhere? Yes! On January 27, it will open in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal; on February 11 at the Cleveland Cinematheque in Ohio; on March 10 in both Cambridge, Massachusetts (at the Landmark Kendall Square), and Washington, D.C. (at the Landmark E Street Cinema); and on March 24 in Houston, Texas, at the Museum of Fine Arts.

Frédéric Tellier's SERIAL KILLER 1: a humane shocker about the French justice system

Serial killer movies come and go with alarming regularity, and most of them are worth shit. Which makes this new one from France -- SERIAL KILLER 1 (L'affaire SK1) -- directed by Frédéric Tellier and co-written by Tellier, David Oelhoffen and Patricia Tourancheau (from her book on the same subject, the infamous Beast of the Bastille) -- something special indeed. This case is said to have resulted in the largest manhunt in French history.

M. Tellier (shown at right), whose resume includes work as actor, writer and now director, comes at his subject full throttle and all-encompassing. His movie tracks back and forth between the early beginnings of the case -- which lasted a decade of more and involved the killings of many young women -- and its ending in court. The filmmaker covers his subject surprisingly deeply from the viewpoints of the police investigating the crimes (with emphasis on the newbie officer played by Raphaël Personnaz, below), the victims and their families (who are themselves sometimes suspects), the prosecuting and particularly the defense attorneys (Nathalie Baye center, two photos below, portrays one of these), and the man accused of the crimes, Guy Georges (a phenomenally rich, frightening and finally moving performance by Adama Niane, at left, two photos below, whose impressive work alone makes the film a must-see).

It has been a long, long while since I've seen a police procedural (which this movie certainly is, in part) that offered up so well the trying, difficult road that investigators must tread, while making us feel and understand the horror and fear of the victims with such specificity (yet without forcing us to watch the killings themselves and thus become somehow partners-in-crime with the killer).

Instead we see the results of the crime, as do the police, as they view and deal with the corpses and their own pain and shame at being unable to prevent more of the killings. Tellier forces us to deal with all this yet never rubs it in. Even during the killer's confession, because we already know what has happened, the filmmaker discreetly blocks out the voice of the killer as he describes the details of the murder.

The French judicial system, it has longed seemed to me, bends over backward to protect the rights of the accused -- far more so than does our own here in the USA. This movie helps us understand why and what this achieves. The film's conclusion -- full of surprise and emotion, catharsis and revelation -- allows us to see that the monster, as the Baye character maintains, is also a man. Granted he is a man who must be locked up forever, but we are the better for having experienced this movie about his story.

By turns exciting, taut, suspenseful, frightening, horrible and yet enriching, Serial Killer 1 is a welcome addition to the genre, immediately taking its place near the top of the heap.

From Kino Lorber -- in French with English subtitles and running two hours -- the movie opens today in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Music Hall 3 and then here in South Florida at the Coral Gables Art Cinema on June 17. Elsewhere? I should hope so -- for a movie this different and important. It lifts its genre to new, and newly humane, heights.

On Blu-ray and DVD: Antonio Pietrangeli's must-see marvel, I KNEW HER WELL

How did a movie made in 1965 that is as wonderfully rich, deep, mysterious, poignant, funny and altogether marvelous as this one -- I will go on record right now as calling it the best film about a woman I have ever seen -- fail to obtain a theatrical release here in the USA until 2016? Let TrustMovies hazzard a guess: Because it was about a woman, that's why. And back in the 1960s, this was, well, not so important. Fellini's La Dolce Vita, made five years previous, got all the fuss. That one showed us the face of Italy via a successful male character, while I KNEW HER WELL (Io la conoscevo bene) tells the tale of a not-so-successful young woman struggling to find herself and her place in the Italy of the day.

The film's writer and director, Antonio Pietrangeli, shown at left, is practically unknown here in the U.S., and after viewing his movie you'll wonder how and why this could be. The filmmaker died, very untimely, in 1968 at the age of 49, and this was his penulti-mate full-length movie. But what a legacy it provides! (It will certanly make you want to see more of Pietrangeli's work.) Had I Knew Her Well obtained a U.S. theatrical release, I suspect the man's reputation would be much stronger here than it is. Certainly some of our critics would have seen how vital and important a movie it was. And remains.

The film also gave the stunning and very talented Italian actress Stefania Sandrelli, shown above and below, the best role of her quite illustrious career, and she rose to the occasion perfectly with the kind of intuitive, quiet-yet-spectacular performance that happens maybe once in a career.

This beautiful performer -- who made her internationally acclaimed debut in Divorce Italian Style, among the other two movies she made in 1961 -- plays a young girl from an impoverished farm family in the provinces who has come to Rome to make something of herself. She uses her beauty and what skills she has to find her way into some kind of career -- maybe films -- and we follow her from scene to scene, man to man, one career step to the next, and as she goes, we grow to know her well.

Pietrangeli's method is to show us one scene after another, some short, some lengthy, some in which Adriana is pivotal, others in which she is on the periphery, yet in every one she makes her mark. With each very well chosen scene (Pietrangeli both wrote and directed the film), we learn more about Adriana and grow increasingly fond of her, as the filmmaker and Sandrelli uncover layer after layer of her character: how she reacts to and thinks about men, her surprisingly fine and judicious sense of morality, her enormous humanity and love for those around her; and her own growth and change as she comes to understand the world of which she is a part.

To call Pietrangeli a humanist is too faint praise. His choice of scenes and how he allows Adriana to slowly bloom before us is something that only a great artist can maneuver. His camera and its framing, the splendid black-and-white cinematography, and the casting of all the roles -- small to large -- is impeccable. Yet it all flows by so easily and gracefully that you might think it were a near-improvised documentary.

We see Adriana  at work as a rather absent-minded beautician, working with a sleazy PR guy to try to break into the movies, taking care of a neighbor's infant baby, meeting a sad and beaten-down boxer (above), being taken for a ride literally and figurative by an attractive con man (a young Jean- Claude Brialy, below), and so much more.  Through it all, the young woman simply grows in stature in our eyes.

In one of the most telling scenes, her current boyfriend, a successful writer (Joachim Fuchsberger, below), realizes how much more on-the-ball she is than he -- even we -- had thought. Later, at a party for a successful actor of the day, Adriana plays a supporting role, as that actor and his current producer make nasty fun of an over-the-hill actor (Ugo Tognazzi), as Adriana is photographed for a segment on a soon-to-be-released newsreel. The result of this provides the film with one of its most unsettling moments.

The movie is full of name actors -- from a very young Franco Nero to Mario Adorf, Nino Manfredi and Karin Dor (below, left) -- all of whom essay their small roles with aplomb. But it's Ms Sandrelli who proves the heart and soul of the film. See it, and you will never forget her. (The actress appears in a relatively current interview in one of the bonus features on the DVD and Blu-ray discs, and what she has to say to us about the film, its writer/director, and why it holds up so well today is so worth hearing.)

Not surprisingly, we also get a good, dark look at the Italy of this time period via all of Adriana's exploits, and what we see is not very nice. Whether it's the film industry, a boxing match, an abortion, the attentions of a wealthy young man (below) or the owner of the beauty salon where our girl initially works, Adriana is used, and usually rather badly. No one, neither characters nor filmmaker, makes the statement, yet we come away from the film not being able to help considering the place of a woman in society.

There's no mention of feminism in the movie, yet it speaks as strongly as any film ever made to and about women and how they were then and are now perceived. Yet the movie never preaches; it simply shows. After renting and watching the film via Netflix, I immediately went to my computer and ordered a Blu-ray copy and as soon as it arrived a few days later, I watched it again so that my spouse could see it (he was as impressed as I). This is the first time in years that I've purchased a film I've already seen, but I plan to keep it again and share it with as many people as I can. It's that special.

I Knew Her Well is available now from The Criterion Collection, on DVD and Blu-ray, for rental or purchase. Both versions provide, as usual via Criterion, exemplary transfers.