An original amazement to be cherished: Frank Beauvais' JUST DON'T THINK I'LL SCREAM

Not only have I never seen anything like this movie, I have also never seen a film in which the narrator seems to have so incredibly much in common with me: How I think and feel about so very many things, from politics and protest to culture and movies, life, love and death. And that's for starters. 

TrustMovies also must admit that Frank Beauvais (shown at right), the writer and director of JUST DON'T THINK I'LL SCREAM (Ne croyez surtout pas que je hurle) is one hell of a lot younger, brighter and better-spoken than am I. Still, this man's sensibility seem so close to my own that I was hooked on his amazing one-off of a movie from his very first words and their accompanying images. He held me in thrall for the following 75 minutes, as well. 

These are not exactly his images, by the way. No, he's cribbed them from the 400 movies he managed to watch during the time, back in 2016, when he moved from Paris  to a tiny town in the Alsace region.  They are mostly generic-looking images that work well with his narration and move at a very fast pace, so don't even try to identify the films from which they come. 

Only a single of these images immediately stood out to me, one from the 1953 horror movie in 3D, The Maze (above), by which I was greatly charmed and scared as a twelve-year-old kid. Otherwise, the images speed past in very nearly a blur, due unfortunately to my not being able to understand French, and so my eye remained on the almost constant English subtitles which (excellently, I suspect) translate M. Beauvais' lovely, graceful, sad and angry words. (No movie I've ever seen has more made me wish that I could speak and understand the French language.)

Just Don't Think I'll Scream details our hero's life (and this guy is indeed a hero, so far as I'm concerned), after his current relationship is severed and he moves to a town so cut off from just about everything that Beauvais, who does not drive, effectively becomes a kind of house-bound hermit, keeping up with world news, watching his movies, and tackling a few other projects. 

Early on he explains to us that as he continues watching all these movies, "the films are no longer windows; they're mirrors." We learn something of his mom, who lives in a nearby village and whom he dearly loves, and of his late father, from whom he was estranged. Among the thoughtful and precise little gems of information he drops along the way is how one's possessions can so easily becomes a kind of Stockholm Syndrome. 

What seems particularly strange and prescient is how this little film, the events of which took place back in 2016, was cobbled together long before the entry of Covid19 into our world. Yet in its exploration of isolation and the need for digital entertainment, it seems in some ways the perfect reflection of our current time. (The end credits, by the way, list every single film from which a still has been used.)

Perhaps I am dead wrong about my having so much in common with M. Beauvais. Instead, it may be that his stunning combination of narration and "found" film visuals is merely one of the best explorations of "character" I have yet encountered. In any case, as "partial" autobiographies go, this movie is nonpareil, as the French might say.

From KimStim, in French with English subtitles and running just 75 minutes, Just Don't Think I'll Scream opens virtually at Film Forum in New York City and at 15 other virtual theaters across the country tomorrow, Friday, January 29. To learn where and how you can view, click here and scroll down. Clearly, the film is not meant for all tastes. But if you possess anything near to Beauvais' particular sensibility, I'd suggest that you're probably a shoo-in viewer.

Charm and goofy fun from New Zealand in Hayden J. Weal/Thomas Sainsbury's DEAD

Other than Canada, TrustMovies would say it's New Zealand whose films overall have a distinct enough feel and attitude that they can, whatever genre in which they might appear, be pretty quickly identified as to their home country. (Of course, with New Zealand the accent certainly helps.)  DEAD -- a most aptly titled otherworldly rom-com, murder, mayhem and mama movie -- proves another such film, one that builds slowly but significantly toward its low-key giggles, slight-but-effective scares, and a number of very nice surprises along the way. I  do not want to oversell this little oddball, but if you stick with it, the rewards are plenteous and lovely.

From the outset as one of our heroes (the dead one, a former cop) comes back as a ghost -- dressed only in a vest, shirt and skivvies -- this bizarre and quirky gem gathers steam and smarts. Our other hero (the live one), a pothead who likes to indulge, has the ability to see ghosts and then try to unite them with their loved ones, thanks to a combination of a certain medicine and other drugs to which he's partial. (Yes, you either suspend your disbelief and accept this or move along to your next movie.)

As co-written and directed by Hayden J. Weal (shown above and at left below), who also plays the dead hero, and co-written by Thomas Sainsbury (below, right), who plays the live one, their movie is in one sense similar to a whole lot of others you've seen, while in another sense proving to be utterly original via its own witty style, charm and, yes,  that specific New Zealand "attitude."

This is a kind of buddy/bromance in which our live hero also begins to bond with the dead's one's very living sister (the gorgeous and funny Tomai Ihaia, below, right), even as he is trying to work out his problems with others (his drug dealer, his mother, and his various bereaved clients).

In addition to our dead cop, a number of other ghosts populate the film and are often nearly as funny as the living characters. On top of all this, the movie deals with another important subject/theme which I am going to refrain from even naming because the way in which Dead handles this one is exemplary: subtle, witty and with increasing humor that reaches its delightful zenith during the end credits, set in a heaven where one's genitalia is covered in, well, the most adorable manner.

This movie is simultaneously dark, dirty, endearing and often off-the-wall hilarious. It also takes its oddball place amongst memorable "mother" movies, for reasons I will also not go into here. Dear reader, you deserve all the goofy surprises in store. (That's Jennifer Ward-Leland, below, as our live hero's mater dearest.) 

I was so thoroughly enjoying this film that I forgot to take any notes. So this review may be shorter than usual.  But I would not be surprised to find Dead ending up on my best-of-year list -- not because it is anything approaching great but simply due to its being such an original: an eccentric, satisfying little bit of the unexpected.

From 1091 Pictures and running 91 minutes, Dead hits certain theaters and virtual cinema today, Friday, September 25, and will reach home video -- for purchase or rental -- on October 6.

Absolutely in a class all by itself: Makoto Nagahisa's WE ARE LITTLE ZOMBIES

Mashing up so many dfferent genres while remaining utterly its own original, WE ARE LITTLE ZOMBIES gave me the most bizarre and special movie experience I've had since first encountering South Korea's lollapalooza, Save the Green Planet. First of all, this film is as witty -- verbally and visually -- as anything you have recently (or even not so recently) seen. It moves like a house afire, telling the tale of the meeting and life thereafter of four children, all orphaned on the same day, and all already fed up with adults and life as they have so far experienced it.

I think it is safe to say that writer/director -- whose first full-length film this is after a single, award-winning short -- Makoto Nagahisa (shown at right) is clearly a born filmmaker. Except that he may soon tire of the medium, since I am not certain what more he could give that he has not already provided via this film. We shall see.

Meanwhile, We Are Little Zombies addresses it all -- love (given, but mostly withheld), death, grief, contemporary life, parenting (mostly bad) -- even as it cleverly, delightfully indicts parents, adults in general, Japan in particular, and consumers and society at large (both eastern and western). Have I left anyone or anything out, Nagahisa?

Yet this indictment is so funny, fresh and endlessly entertaining that movie buffs ought not mind, even if more mainstream audiences may throw up their hands in disarray. Who cares? How the filmmaker gives us these kids and their back stories, those parents and their deaths, the real and surreal, fantasies, facts, fishbowls and so much more will make you grateful you still have eyes and ears.

While a Puccini tune runs throughout the film, its oddball musical numbers are amazing in their own right. For a while the film seems like some old-fashioned videogame come to life, and then around the midway point it takes a turn -- for the even better. Our heroes/heroine become a kid band, complete with their own sleazy/sweet manager (the red-head above),

before moving into the utterly surreal/unreal/too real. And still, the energy and wit never flag. Sweet, sad, profound, memorable and certainly one of this year's best movies,  We Are Little Zombies also proves to be the zombie movie to end them all, even without the de rigueur flesh-eating. (The scene in which we suddenly see the zombies -- and their "attachment" -- proves a perfect humdinger.)

From Oscilloscope Films and running a full two hours (from which I would not have wanted to cut one minute), the movie opens today in virtual and real cinemas all across the USA. Click here and then follow directions to learn how and where you can view it. Oh, and I want to nominate for the Movie Faces Hall of Fame little lead actor Keita Ninomiya. What a face -- and what a beautiful pair of eyes this kid has!

63 UP, Michael Apted's continuing extension of the landmark British 7 UP series, opens

Film buffs, particularly those who love documentaries, can hardly be unaware of the great British series that began on television back in 1963, with an episode of World in Action devoted to profiling a highly diverse -- in terms of class (and therefore economic station) and in one case race -- group of seven-year-old children, which proved popular enough that its director, a 22-year-old fellow named Michael Apted, did a revisit to the kids seven years later, and consequently a renewed visit at each seven-year period until now, as these "children" reach the age of 63.

With each visit the series has grown richer, stranger, often sadder, and definitely more complex as we watch these lives grow, blossom (in ways both typical and quite unexpected) and now begin to end.

Mr. Apted (shown at right) and TrustMovies both happen to have been born in the same year (1941), a fact that of course has us wondering if we'll be around for any further episodes -- he to film them, I to view them. God, I hope so, and I also hope he has selected someone to follow up for him, just in case.

Younger viewers who have arrived mid-series may be able to last until each of these people have bid the world adieu. Lucky are they! Meanwhile here we are at the participants' age of 63, eager to learn what has happened during the past seven years.

I suspect many viewers will be ever more grateful to Tony, above (and in the red-and-white striped shirt next to the 63UP logo, further up), that short, sweet, energetic little kid who wanted to become a jockey, gave it his best shot, and then went on to drive a cab. One of this series' linchpins is "Give me a child at seven years, and I will show you the man." While Apted continues to ask his subjects if they think this to be true (they seem to agree, to various extents), it appears absolutely truest with Tony, whose positive energy, despite his share of setbacks, continues to buoy the series beautifully. Everything we saw at age seven, we still see now -- in spades.

Other of the children have aged quite differently. Nick (at right), for instance, after a promising physics career here in the USA, has now grown quite ill.

At one point in his interview, discussing his relationship with his late father, he addresses the filmmaker personally. "You know me, Michael: I probably haven't dealt with it fully." Which makes us viewers suddenly realize that, yes: Apted really does know and understand these people -- probably better than some of their friends and/or relatives know them.

At another point in the film, Jackie (at left) gives the filmmaker "what for," telling him, "You didn't have any idea of the changing role of women in Britain!" He doesn't disagree. As this series has rolled on, the role of the filmmaker to and for his subjects has clearly become more and more personal. Which simply adds to the series' depth and pleasure.

Jackie has endured quite a journey -- marriage, divorce, kids, and now, with the death of a partner, single-grand-parenting -- as have most of the "Up" series' participants -- except, perhaps, for a couple of the upper-class males here: Andrew (shown below) and John, the latter of whom has long struck me as the most clueless of the participants (he still does not seem to understand the why and wherefore of inequality in Britain).

John had earlier pulled his participation, due to critical comments made about him, but has now come back, and I do not wish to push his pulling out again, so I apologize in advance. John, shown below, is, as are all the rest, hugely important to this series, but the lives of these two upper-class children, now aging men, seemed to have changed the least. They set their sights as kids, achieved much (if not all, particularly in John's case) of what they wanted and seemed to have worked, lived and married quite well, and to have grown and changed the least of all the participants -- except maybe Tony, who wouldn't waste much time complaining in any case.

Among the women, major surprises are in store from wealthy playgirl-then-happily-married-mother Suzy and especially from that lovely children's librarian, Lynn (shown at bottom), but all the participants here have their interesting life choices (or events that life forces) to share.

Lynn's story will certainly move you, but so, I should imagine, will all of them to varying degrees: Neil (below), still struggling but coping with depression and relationships; Symon, after helping produce a number of children via two wives, is now fostering even more of them; the ever sweet, charming and industrious Sue; Paul, still living and working in Australia; and Bruce, ever heavier but as happy at work as he is now as a family man, too.

I could go on -- and I would like to, about each and every child who has grown into an interesting man or woman -- but those who've already seen the series will want to find out for themselves. For those who have not, 63 Up is as good an entry point as any (except of course the first one) because each participant's story is given as much of the history as viewers will need to fill in enough blanks to appreciate these lives.

If you decide to view the entire series (available on home video), don't even think about binge-watching because there

is so much repetition over the episodes that you'll drive yourself crazy in the process. It is very much worth seeing the entire series, however; just allow ample time to elapse between viewings.

Released by BritBox and running 144 minutes, 63 Up opened this past week in New York City at Film Forum. Elsewhere? Not sure, but one would imagine this film will eventually find its way to home video, just as have the others in the series.

Looking for a genuinely different zombie film? Try Shinichiro Ueda's ONE CUT OF THE DEAD

Yeah, yeah: You keep hearing about "really different zombie films," particularly zombie comedies -- of which we've already seen plenty, from Shaun of the Dead through Stalled and way beyond (in fact, Jim Jarmusch's try at this subgenre arrives on DVD/VOD this very week). And while it's true that the new film under consideration here -- ONE CUT OF THE DEAD -- is indeed a zombie comedy, it is so different in so many ways from the usual pack that TrustMovies believes it merits the attention of film buffs and maybe even that of zombie-movie lovers.

As you may know if you follow this blog, I am no fan of zombies -- the most boring "monsters" movie-land has so far created. In the old days they looked a little spooky and walked so slowly you could tiptoe away from them with no problem whatsoever. These days they either move slowly (as in the grand-daddy of the modern zombie flick, Night of the Living Dead) or fast, and they, yes, "feast on the flesh of the living." Big deal. Werewolves can change their whole appearance while scaring us silly, and vampires make a great metaphor for forbidden sex. But zombies? Real Johnny-One-Notes, they bore us to distraction.

All of the which makes this 2017 film -- written, directed and edited by Shinichiro Ueda (shown two photos above) a nice, if rather long gestating, surprise. And so I must beg you, should you take a chance on this movie, please last out through the longueurs of the first third, which will seem like a rather standard, if silly zombie film, and through the second section, which more or less explains how that first section will soon come into being, and to hold out until the final third -- which is truly unusual: genuinely funny, sweet and charming as all hell. (My spouse gave up midway through the movie, and so missed what I now know he would, given his taste and humor, have really loved.)

More than this, plot-wise, I ought not say. Spoilers, you know. But the more we learn about the characters in the movie-within-the-movie, and about the actors who play them and about all the folk laboring behind the scenes, One Cut of the Dead just grows better and better.

The whole cast is delightful -- by the finale appearing, oh, so different from what you initially perceived -- and Mr. Ueda is to be congratulated on his moxie for coming up with an idea this bizarre and then bringing it to decent fruition. Given what that idea is, I don't really see how he could have avoided those aforementioned longueurs. And his final section proves so much fun that I think you'll easily forgive him. I sure did.

Released via Shudder, in association with Variance Films, One Cut of the Dead -- running 96 minutes, in Japanese with English subtitles -- opens in New York City (at IFC Center) and Los Angeles (at the Alamo Drafthouse Downtown) today, Friday, September 13, after which it will play at over 60 one-night screenings across the US and Canada, slated for Tuesday, September 17 (click here to see all currently scheduled screenings), with additional ones to follow and more being added daily. Eventually, I would imagine, you'll be able to see the film on the Shudder streaming service.

Movie of the Year? Of the decade? David Robert Mitchell's UNDER THE SILVER LAKE

Thoroughly dividing critics and audiences alike (on Rotten Tomatoes, the movie has a score of 56% from the critics, 60% from the audience), UNDER THE SILVER LAKE has given TrustMovies his most all-out enjoyable cinema experience of the year so far. Now out on home video -- Bluray, DVD and digital -- this is a film I think you really must give a shot.

Written and directed by David Robert Mitchell, shown at right, whose earlier efforts The Myth of the American Sleepover (one of the best and most graceful and surprising teen movies I've seen) and It Follows (a somewhat over-rated horror effort that proved at least original and had a very good first half), this one is Mitchell's best so far, and I wager that the 44-year-old filmmaker has a lot more to give us in his time ahead.

What makes Under the Silver Lake so special? A whole lot of things, starting with its Los Angeles/Silver Lake reservoir locale. I grew up around there and so know it well, and the movie made me feel simultaneously at home and as though, just like its hero, I'd fallen into a rabbit hole leading to wonderland.

Whether by choice or instinct, Mr. Mitchell consistently butts up the ordinary against the bizarre. Realistic details lead to anything but, while the fantastic ends up in something utterly mundane. (My favorite moment is the long, mysterious tunnel that leads our hero to a... nah: You gotta find out for yourself.) The effect is alternately alarming and delightful -- and consistently amusing. I had a smile on my face almost throughout.

Watching Under the Silver Lake is like discovering David Lynch on antidepressants and in a very good mood. Sure, this movie deals with everything from awful cults to a dog murderer on the loose, and still that smile refuses to leave your face. This also has to do with the wonderful young actor Mitchell has cast as his lead: Andrew Garfield (two photos up and below).

Since Boy A, back in 2007, I think I've seen every movie Garfield has made, and even when I thought the film mostly sucked (Silence), he never did. What a face this guy has. Those huge and immersive big-brown-eyes draw you in and hold you in thrall, and the actor is versatile enough to try all kinds of roles. His lean, lithe body, which we see just about all of in the course of the movie, is a big bonus, too. Mr. Garfield appears in, I believe, every scene of this movie, and -- to paraphrase one of his best films -- he never lets you go.

The actor plays Sam, a not particularly likeable, aging young man -- 33 and seeming to have not the least idea what to do with his, so far, pointless little life -- who spots a pretty blond named Sarah (Riley Keough, below) poolside in his apartment complex, and quickly gets to know -- and fuck -- her very briefly before, the next morning, she has disappeared, along with literally everything (almost) that was in her apartment the night before. Hmmmm... mystery.

The rest of the movie is devoted to Sam's relentless search for Sarah, which leads him into one bizarre situation after another. These grows loonier and tunier, finally culminating in a kind of wonderful closure during which Mitchell gives us his moral -- which could not be simpler nor more profound. This moral ends, if I am not mistaken, with the word "right?" and if I am also not mistaken, our hero hears this and actually considers it.
(We all should, by the way.)

Mitchell's denouement is as lovely and rich as what has come before, featuring sex, a parrot, and in the very last shot a quietly unobtrusive reference to another shot we've seen several times previous and which now suddenly resonates quite differently -- because it has happened to someone we care about. Mitchell doesn't spell any of this out, however. But it's there nonetheless (unless I am way off base in my conclusions, but I would prefer to think not).

For me this writer/director has made a marvelous kind of scavenger/Easter-egg hunt in which we -- and Sam-- really do find the prize. Other critics have suggested that there is no "there" there, but I think they are dead wrong. Were they asleep? But how could they be at a movie that is this much fun?

Along the way, there are so damned many visual and audio treats -- sets that zing, music that sings, fashions that will make you oooh, aaah and giggle -- that you'll probably want to see the whole thing again, just to be able to finally take it all in. (Janet Gaynor fans will plotz.)

For the many movie references alone -- from Pitfall and Land of the Pharaohs to Something's Got to Give -- film buffs will enjoy things, but if you're not inclined toward this sort of game-playing, don't worry. You can easily appreciate the movie for its delightful plot and satisfying resolution. Alone, for the gorgeous, frightening, knockout scene in which Sam and the character played by Callie Hernandez (above, left) actually go into/under Silver Lake, this movie is worth all of its two hours and 20 minutes.

Released by A24 and playing in theaters for a limited time this past April, Under the Silver Lake is now available in Blu-ray, DVD and digital streaming. You have no excuse for not giving it a try. (That's the funny, mysterious Grace van Patten with balloon, above.)

What a gal: BARBARA RUBIN AND THE EXPLODING NEW YORK UNDERGROUND explores a special time, place and culture

Barbara Rubin. That's a name TrustMovies hadn't even heard of prior to viewing Chuck Smith's charming and disarming new documentary about this young woman, who, at age 16, thanks to circumstances, smart choices and a little luck, found herself working with Jonas Mekas to help to organize and become a kind of moving force in the experimental film culture that rose to prominence in the 1960s.

It was not only experimental film that Ms Rubin fostered and even created; she brought together titans of poetry, performance art, music and more. Bob Dylan, Andy Warhol and Lou Reed owe an awful lot to this energetic and talented gal.

BARBARA RUBIN AND THE EXPLODING NY UNDERGROUND explores the early life (and early problems, as well) of the titular young woman briefly and succinctly, letting us see from almost the beginning what an unusual person she was. People who knew her describe her as a "mystic," and before you pooh-pooh this word (as I usually do), you may find (as did I) by the end of this fairly short documentary that you, too, are ready to apply the term to this unusual woman.

Filmmaker Smith (shown above) may not have given us the "all" of Ms Rubin, such a surprising and event-filled life did she lead, but what we see and hear should be enough to make us more than aware of what a singular force she was in the 1960s and, to maybe a lesser extent in the 70s.

How Rubin (shown above and below with Andy Warhol) was mentored by Mekas but soon went out on her own at age 18 to create an experimental film -- Christmas on Earth (originally to have been titled Cocks, Cunts and Christmas on Earth) -- that was both sexually explicit and genuinely experimental and that evidently still remains powerful enough to shock audiences. (The tidbits shown here certainly entice, but I would love to see the entire film.)

Her very close relationship with gay poet Allen Ginsberg (she wanted to bear his children) was pivotal to her life, and yet how (which we see and hear about here) and why (which we never quite understand) she suddenly embraced Orthodox Jewish religion and culture seems genuinely amazing, adding luster to that "mystical" theory. One friend opines that Rubin simply overlaid her love of Buddhism onto Orthodox Judaism. (The doc's Jewish orphanage moment should make a believer out of you, I suspect.)

Whatever Rubin did, she seems to have done it fully and with no qualms nor half measures. From her oddball letter to Walt Disney to her becoming perhaps the first woman to explore and open the Kabbalah to women, Rubin broke that mold for what a woman could do, just as she had done in the experimental film world -- which was a male-only place for the most part (as was the film world in general).

How her life ended (at age 35) seems both shocking and unnecessary. But then, there is so little known about the details of her time as a very fertile wife  -- take that, Mr. Ginsberg! -- in an Orthodox Jewish community in the south of France, who is to say her contribution here was any more or less important than that to the world of experimental film?

The various talking heads we hear from include film critics Amy Taubin and J Hoberman, the late Mr. Mekas himself, and most trenchant and insightful of all, author and assistant professor Ara Osterweil, clearly too young to have known Rubin but definitely deeply affected by the woman & her work.

From Juno Films and running just 78 minutes, after opening a couple of weeks previous at the IFC Center in New York City, the documentary screens at at the Roxy, San Francisco, on Wednesday, June 12, and hits the Los Angeles area on Friday, June 14, at Laemmle's Music Hall and then expands to Laemmle's Royal, Playhouse 7, Town Center 5, and Claremont 5 on June 17. Click here to find any further playdates, cities and theaters that may have been recently added.