William Oldroyd's LADY MACBETH expands to South Florida theaters (and elsewhere)

Clearly setting most critics aflame with its rather eerie-if-cornball combo of sex and violence coupled to concerns of class, race, patriarchy and the use of power, LADY MACBETH, the first full-length film to be directed by legit theater fellow, William Oldroyd, and adapted by Alice Birch (from an original story by Nicolai Leskov), turns out to be an interesting enough look at the above themes, if finally a fairly shallow and and not very trenchant exploration of them. What begins as a low-key and unsettling view of the life of an oddly-if-interestingly "abused" young woman, who is sold into marriage, slowly and equally quietly evolves into a tale of revenge, unbridled lust and multiple murder.

It's all quite fun. And ugly. The former for awhile, the latter throughout. This is as much due to the ability of Mr. Oldroyd (the filmmaker is shown at left) and his cinematographer Ari Wegner to compose the frame -- while using lighting and color in such clever ways that, at times, you might think you were viewing a Vermeer -- as to the fine acting from his new-found star, Florence Pugh, shown above and below, who handles herself with surprising precision and resolve.

The remainder of Oldroyd's cast fills the bill nicely, too. The characters here are inseparable from their time period and place: a 19th Century rural England in which patriarchy rules all with a nastily iron hand and not a trace of any glove, velvet or otherwise.

Therefore our "heroine," Katherine, finds herself trapped in a not-only loveless marriage, but one in which she is ordered about like chattel and expected to act as servant in almost as many respects as the household's actual servants, which include a maid or two and the male workers on her husband and father-in-law's estate. (In fact, all of them seem to have more freedom than does our poor Katherine.)

As we witness her ordeal, our sympathy goes out to the young bride again and again, until at last she takes the reins and proves so powerful, vicious and unstoppable that a certain amount of credibility flies out the window, even as the behavior of others so conforms to her needs that events grow a tad too coincidental for comfort. (That's Cosmo Jarvis, above, right, who plays the hot young hired hand with whom Kathrine falls in lust.)

By the bleak finale, we're left to consider the uses and abuses of power, as well as a hierarchy that places the while male in charge and the white female next in line, with the servant class far down the chart, and those servants of color on the very bottom rung (at which point they seem all too willing to sacrifice themselves silently, if not gladly). Yes, it's fun times.

Is this the way of the world back then? What about now? How much has changed? All these questions bubble to the surface over the course of the film, and that bubbling proves just fine. I only wish the movie did not seem quite so cast in stone, with each character and/or event offering nary a surprise along the way. Lady Macbeth is powerful all right, but as quiet, elegant and precise as is Oldroyd/Birch's adaptation, it's also sledge-hammer obvious.

From Roadside Attractions and running a sleek 89 minutes, the movie -- after opening in major cities around the country -- hits South Florida (and elsewhere) this Friday. In our area, look for it in Miami at the AMC Aventura 24, Regal South Beach 18 and The Landmark at Merrick Park . In Fort Lauderdale it opens at The Classic Gateway Theatre, and in West Palm Beach at the AMC CityPlace 20, and in Boca Raton at the Living Room Theaters and Regal Shadowood 16, and at The Movies of Delray. On August 4, The Movies of Lake Worth will be added to this mix.

DVDebut: Upper-class twats up to no good in Lone Scherfig's rich-are-rotten THE RIOT CLUB

An Education, Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself and Italian for Beginners were among the best movies of their respective years (2009, 2002 and 2000), and perhaps the most important thing they have in common is their director/sometimes writer, Lone Scherfig. If her latest endeavor, THE RIOT CLUB will not be included in this year's best lists, it is still a good enough example of a sub-genre not that often seen of late: the black comedy/ melodrama of class distinctions. It's British, of course. (They know the territory about as well as anyone).

Whether or not this tale of uber-nasty high-born Oxford students is based on "truth" -- a members-only society of wealthy, upper-class students who look down on the poor and middle-class, deriving ugly fun at their expense -- it's enough to know that it sure could be.

Further, the manner in which Ms Scherfig (pictured at right) and her writer, Laura Wade (who adapted the film from her own play) have brought these boys to life, their behavior seems all too believable and consistent.

By the time we've reached the shocking and ugly climax, over-the-top plays like par-for-the-course.

This is one of those films that will send the wealthy, entitled set into paroxysms of rage due to the fact that these people are shown to have so little understanding or empathy for anyone outside their closed circle. Oh, yes -- and they treat women no better than they handle those poor and/or bourgeois. There certainly are some decent rich (I've discovered a very few out of all those I've encountered over my 74 years), but if one looks, worldwide, across the vast divide that separates the wealthy from everyone else, the picture is not pretty. And due to the ever-growing disparity between rich and poor, this gap/attitude/divide worsens and becomes more difficult to correct with each passing year.

So the movie indeed wears its politics on its sleeve, but it entertains us even as it attempts to finger-point and educate. It is well-cast, -acted, and -directed, and while the writing is decent and the dialog generally believable, I do wish that Ms Wade has done a better job of it. What is needed here is something approaching what Oscar Wilde might have managed had he been inclined or able to tackle this particular subject, or what Alan Bennett did accomplish with his great play and film, The History Boys, another tale of British youth (a bit younger) on the rise.

Instead we get pretty much the expected, executed by a good-looking and talented cast of young men who manage -- via Wade, Scherfig and the actors' performances -- to differentiate well between these alternately bullying and cowardly sleazebags of tomorrow.  Normally, I'd name and comment on the performers, who are, to a man, just fine. But in this case I'll leave the IMDB to point out their names and only mention the leading elder actor, Tom Hollander, who once again gives a telling, subtle and comic performance as the representative of the older entitled generation.

The Riot Club, via IFC Films and running 107 minutes, arrived on DVD earlier this month & can be purchased or rented from the usual suspects.

Digital debut: New Orleans losers inhabit Eddie Jemison/Sean Richardson's KING OF HERRINGS

It has been awhile since any movie's rubbed me as thoroughly the wrong way as did this odd little film. I admit that tackling a story about four male losers and two of their women (a sister and wife) -- in which the leading loser is such a waste of time, not to mention verbiage -- has got to be a tricky endeavor. How far can you go in presenting your leading man as an all-stops-out asshole (or as he might put it, a cunt) before completely alienating your audience? Good question. For the answer, see -- if you dare -- KING OF HERRINGS.

The film's a group effort that is finally and mostly the product of one man -- Eddie Jemison (shown at left) who wrote, co-directed, co-produced and stars in the leading role -- at whose feet one can lay the praise or blame. I hope Mr. Jemison wears a size 15 shoe. Pace the late John Cassavetes whose black-and-white early American "art" movies Jemison has surely seen and here tries to ape, but it takes more than decent b/w cinematography and men behaving not just badly but ultra-stupidly to create something redeeming.

That cinematography and its editing, both by co-director Sean Richardson, is worth seeing -- though in the initial scene at a railway station, it takes awhile to get one's footing/viewing. Soon we're in a practically empty bar, watching our quartet of males, led by Jemison's character "Ditch," behaving in an irredeemably dumb way. As the movie goes along, this guy just gets worse and less believable with each scene.

OK: Maybe this is just "guys being guys." But there is a limit. Pushing the envelope is one thing, but Jemison rolls it into a ball, stomps on it and then sets it ablaze. Ditch's behavior is so thoroughly out of line in every way that you simply can't believe that the other three "friends" would tolerate him for more than a few minutes. These include the tall and lanky Gat (David Jensen, on poster at top and above, right), Artie aka The Professor (Joe Chrest, below, left) and Leon (Wayne Pére, below, right, and two photos above), the best-looking but also the shyest of the four, who is relegated to using a voice box in order to speak and be heard.

The women are played by Laura Lamson (below, right, and at bottom) as Ditch's wife, Mary, and Andrea Frankle (below, left), as his sister, Evie. Both do an excellent job, with Ms Lamson in particular able to create a whole character and space around herself via a quiet but insistent strength. This goes a long way in making the movie worth sitting through.

Jealousy, desire, shame, anger and mostly stupidity keep the ball rolling along here, but the movie's weakest link is its very tenuous hold on reality. None of these guys seem to have a job, save The Prof, who -- wait for it -- sells magazine subscriptions for a living. Granted we're in the New Orleans area, post-Katrina and the Gulf Oil Spill, but still, we've all got to earn our keep. How these guys even afford a meal is questionable.

The one character who at least has a job is the owner of the cafe (John Mese, above) in which the quartet hangs out. Some homoerotic stuff comes to the fore along the way in a particularly bizarre scene in which Ditch threatens Leon by helping him take a piss, complementing him on his cock in the process. At other times, you may find yourself wondering if these are gays simply pretending to be straight. There is finally a feeling here that this whole story and group of characters were created simply to give these particular performers, especially Mr. Jemison, the chance to go whole hog, all-stops-out, & "act" themselves silly. Unfortunately, they do.

King of Herrings, via Devolver, becomes available on Digital VOD this Tuesday, January 20, via outlets such as iTunes, Amazon Instant Video, VHX, Vimeo-on-Demand, Google Play, Gumroad, YouTube Rentals and elsewhere. 

Rick Alverson’s hip drip,THE COMEDY, opens for a week's run at BAMcinématek

Self-hate as entertainment? Interesting concept, problematic execution. The rich sure as hell are different from you and me, as Rick Alverson proves in his oh-so-ironically-titled new movie, THE COMEDY. If our non-hero, Swanson (is he part of that old "chicken" dynasty?), played by Tim Heidecker, were not an heir to what appears to be quite a fortune, he couldn't possibly live the kind of life we see here. At least this movie -- unlike so many that offer up weird characters about whom we spend most of our time wondering how in hell they support themselves -- gives us a guy who, as unappealing as he is, seems remotely real.

I say remotely because of one enormous problem that Alverson's movie encounters (the director is shown at right) but doesn't even try to surmount: the lack of consequences to the actions -- every single one of them if I am not mistaken -- taken by his Mr. Swanson, who spends nearly the entire film acting the hipster swine that he evidently wants to be. Yet never has hip seemed closer to drip. The Comedy begins with a scene of drunk, overweight and rather sleazy-looking men having "fun." Further written description will simply beggar belief: You need to see this one to believe it. Turns out this is a kind of "men's group," probably organized and funded by Swanson (unless all these guys are heirs of some sort) whose purpose is to make fun of existing culture -- from the workplace to religion, sex, famly, love, and rock-n'-roll (the music here seems as dank & joyless as the fellows we must watch).

As Swanson's provocations toward work, religion, family and the rest push that envelope further and further, we wait for the reprisal that surely, in any real world, must come -- those consequences mentioned earlier. So nasty, ugly and stupid are this man's words and deeds (much more of the former) that surely someone will soon flatten him with a punch to face and then to the gut. Or call the police. Or pull out the gun (that more and more Americans seem unable to live without) and fire away. Yet those consequences never arrive, for Mr Alverson consistently cuts away from the action prior to their arrival, and so the movie loses much of its credibility, despite some excellent work from Mr. Heidecker in the central role.

We learn almost nothing about any character except Swanson (and come to think of it, we learn damn little about him, only of his wealth and his bad behavior) -- everyone else is interchangeable -- except one young woman, a waitress in a restaurant where Swanson has obtained a job (as a dishwasher, of course: Oh, the irony!). In the film's best scene -- because, finally, our guy gets as good as he gives, and for a few moments the playing field seems leveled -- our dishwasher and waitress have a verbal go-round that results in a "date."  On that date something happens that, again, demands consequences -- or at least some kind of continuation so that we may see what happens and how Swanson handles this. Sorry. No can do.

This constant refusal to risk -- not closure, but simply taking a scene to its demanded end -- robs the character, the movie, us viewers and, yes, Mr. Alverson, of the opportunity to learn and grow a little. When, at last (at the finale, of course) that chance for growth comes -- via a cute little child. Please! -- the stab at redemption (more like re-dumb-tion) can't help but smack of sentimentality. If Swanson had to watch this scene, rather than play it, he'd have some nasty stuff to say, before laughing himself sick.

If men behaving badly is your thing, goodness knows the movie takes this to new heights (or depths). The film is a constant put-on, perfect for intellectual S&M. But if you are searching for something different (as we sophisticated movie-goers always are), by all means take a look, and make of it what you will.

**********

After seeing the film and composing this review, I then read the writer/director's "statement" about his movie. I think I understand what Alverson is saying and trying to achieve, and I applaud his motives and his goal, even if I don't believe that he has come very near it. In that Director's Statement, he says, "...my interest was to link the audience and the protagonist through their mutual desire for emotional animation and sensitization. For me the audience, the viewer, and Swanson are in the same predicament, are driven by the same conflicting set of desires. I am ultimately interested in the denial of those hopes, for the resolve of his animation (emotional or physical) or the satisfaction and relief of his salvation. I think that middle ground {the italics are TrustMovies'} is the state in which we most often live and one from which the audience and Swanson both desire to flee, one that is denied its due in entertainment and even the grand drama of many of the arts."

OK: fair enough. Alverson has taken us from that middle ground. But unfortunately he had not given us a believable reality to replace it. Actions like those shown here have consequences, I suggest -- both in the middle ground and elsewhere.

In any case, The Comedy begins its week-long run here in the NYC environs at BAMcinématek this Friday, November 16. In the Los Angeles area, it is current playing at CineFamily and will move this Friday, 11/16, to the Downtown Independent theater.  Other dates/cities in and during which the film will be offered include November 23 (San Francisco and Chicago); November 27 (Duluth); November 29 (Albuquerque); November 30 (Denver, Austin, Phoenix and Columbus; December 7 (Seattle, Tuscon and Boston); December 9 (Bloomington -- and back to Williamsburg, Brooklyn!) For us couch potatoes, the movie made its VOD debut this past October 24 and will continue there for awhile, I should imagine.