Caleb Carr's long awaited transition of THE ALIENIST makes its TV debut on TNT tonight

From the time of its 1994 publication, Caleb Carr's notorious novel The Alienist was said to be on track for a major motion picture. And why not, as it would seem to have just about everything going for it? Set in New York City during The Gilded Age and peppered with real-life characters (Teddy Roosevelt), as well as the usual fictional ones, with a tale of a serial killer who preys in particularly vicious fashion on child prostitutes (both boys and girls), it had just about every "hook" in the book -- from transgressive sex and pedophilia to uber-violence, guts and gore, all wrapped into a lovingly detailed "period piece."

Finally and nearly a quarter-century later, THE ALIENIST arrives -- if not on the "big" screen, at least on your TV screen -- in a ten-part series that, from the first two episodes we critics were sent for review, captures the above "hooks" in all their ugly, tawdry glory. In fact, though the series is set in that "gilded age," we spend so much time in the 1890s slums, brothels and filthy streets of New York City that you come away from those initial episodes remembering mostly the grime and dirt, rather than any opulence you might have viewed.

The "alienist" of the title refers to the term used back then to describe what we would now called a psychiatrist. Our alienist is one, Dr. Laszlo Kreizler (played with his usual skill and charisma by German actor Daniel Brühl, shown above, center). Surrounding him are two other major characters, Sara Howard (Dakota Fanning, below) a pretty, young, up-and-coming suffragette from a very good family who works in the office of Mr. Roosevelt, and talented artist John Moore (Luke Evans, above left) who is able to capture the desecrated corpses of the victims with unusual skill and realism. Both these characters will assist the good doctor in his off-the-record investigation.

These characters, as written and performed, are perfectly acceptable but not too much more than that. Instead -- at least in those initial episodes --  it is some of the subsidiary characters who pack the most punch. In particular, we have the young doctor brothers, Lucius and Marcus Isaacson (played by Matthew Shear and Douglas Smith) -- Jews, and so definitely outsiders in this time and place-- who bring some welcome humor, energy and charm to the proceedings.

The Alienist is dark and ugly indeed, so you'll need to gird up your loins and grit your teeth while viewing this one (unless, of course, dark and ugly is already your cup of tea). But over the entire enterprise hangs a kind of "manufactured" quality. I recall feeling this, too, while reading the novel, and so stopped midway and never finished it.

The television version of the novel does have the added impact of coming now, when so many of the problems from that Gilded Age -- the enormous "wealth gap" to the ever-popular "we-hate-immigrants" movement -- are timely all over again. I would certainly watch at least a few more episodes of the television series, as it is visually interesting and well-acted enough to pass muster. But finish it? I don't know. We'll have to see....

From TNT, The Alienist begins tonight at 9pm EST. Good luck! (That's Brian Geraghty, above, as the series' version of Teddy Roosevelt.)

Philippe Falardeau's CHUCK: an under-the-radar movie that will knock your socks off

French-Canadian filmmaker Philippe Falardeau ought to be a lot better known that he is. With seven full-length films behind him -- four of which TrustMovies has seen and found exceptional, each in its own way -- this fellow has the knack of directing a movie (and sometimes writing it, too) with exactly the tone, style, pacing and all the rest that the subject requires. That the four films I've seen are wildly divergent in subject, tone and style, makes Falardeau's work all the more impressive.

There's no way you could watch one of these films and pronounce, "Ah, yes: a typical Philippe Falardeau movie!" (The filmmaker is pictured at right.) They're simply too different, one from another. Congorama (2006) is like little seen before or since: a search-for-family movie that goes from real to surreal and beyond without missing a beat. It's Not Me, I Swear! (2008) is all about a oddball ten-year-old with growing pains, and it's as good a film, in its own way, as is The 400 Blows. His next movie, Monsieur Lazhar (2011) was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film and might easily have won. It's that good, as it takes in everything from education to immigration, suicide to sacrifice. Based on a one-man theater piece, the manner in which Falardeau opens it up to include a whole world is in itself stunning. (You can read my earlier interview with M. Falardeau here.)

Now comes CHUCK, another "little" movie that turns out to be big in every important way. Here, the filmmaker is working with his starriest cast yet -- the likes of Liev Schreiber (above and below), Elizabeth Moss, Naomi Watts and Ron Perlman -- as he tells (with the help of a four-man writing team, including Mr. Schreiber) the tale of the boxer, Chuck Wepner, whose life story appears to have inspired a certain Oscar-winning movie named Rocky.

So, this time Falardeau is dealing with a bio-pic coupled to a period piece (most of the film is set in the 1970s), and -- surprise! not. -- the filmmaker gets everything right.  Performances are stunning without ever once calling attention to themselves by offering us "great acting" in quotes. Every actor simply lives his/her role and is utterly convincing at every moment. And the sets, hairstyles, cars, clothes and all the other "period" details? Perfect, again without calling undue attention to this fact. In addition to being period, everything looks quite "lived in."

Mr. Wepner's tale is also a warts-and-all kind of story, in which Chuck hardly comes off as any great guy. But this, too, makes the movie seems all the more real. This fellow cheats on his wife (Ms Moss, above right, makes her so much deeper and more "felt" than the usual wronged woman), takes dive after dive into booze and dope, and -- when he finally get the chance at a small role in Rocky 2 -- he can't even manage to arrive on time or sober for the audition.

Yet so real and so deeply does Mr. Schreiber probe into character and need that his performance -- were Chuck the kind of movie that Academy members made sure they saw -- would be a shoo-in for a nomination. This actor is as good here as he has ever been. And that is saying a lot.

Perlman (above, right) is just fine as Chuck's trainer/manager, and Ms Watts (at left below and further below) excels, as usual, at disappearing into a role so thoroughly that you may not even recognize her at first. She is as good here as she was in Mulholland Drive, though the role itself is not nearly as major.

As appears to be the constant case, M. Falardeau has again given us one terrific movie that seems to be disappearing without a trace -- despite mostly excellent reviews and a "look" and a cast to die for. This is the kind of film that will find its audience over time, probably on cable to streaming, and will have people saying/asking, "This was a great little film. Why haven't we heard more about it?" Indeed.

From IFC Films and running a solid, entrancing 98 minutes, Chuck hit the cultural centers a couple of weeks back (in Los Angeles, look for it at Laemmle theaters; in New York City, you can view it at the AMC Lincoln Square 13), and it will open here in South Florida this Friday, May 19, in the Miami area at the AMC Aventura 24, Regal South Beach 18, and AMC Sunset Place 24. On May 26 it will open in Boca Raton at the Regal Shadowood 16 and in West Palm Beach at the AMC CityPlace 20.

François Ozon's FRANTZ: an elegant, sad period piece from a masterful movie-maker

French filmmaker François Ozon has now made 18 full-length movies since his first one back in 1998 (roughly one per year) and at least as many short films, beginning in 1988. He has tackled a slew of genres -- fantasy, mystery, drama, comedy, satire, love story -- while some of his films jump and/or mash genres or simply create their own. He is consistently one of the most interesting and challenging filmmakers of our time, and I await each new work of his with pleasure and expectation. His latest to reach our shores, FRANTZ -- based upon an earlier movie by Ernst Lubitsch which itself was based upon a play by Maurice Rostand (son of Edmond) -- adds one more wonderful feather to M. Ozon's rather full cap.

Frantz is an exquisite, quietly beautiful period piece -- Ozon's third in this genre, I believe, after Angel and Potiche -- a near love story, as well as a soulful study of the after-effects of war on society at large, in this case that of Germany and France immediately after World War I. The filmmaker, shown above with the painting (Manet's The Suicide) that figures prominently in the movie, has given us a near-perfect production design (Michel Barthélémy) and art direction (Susanne Abel), costumes, sets and all the rest. The film was nominated for a slew of Césars but brought home only one (for the fine cinematography by Pascal Marti).

That cinematography is in mostly black-and-white, with occasional cuts to color as dictated by Ozon for emphasis on, well, perhaps happier moment/fantasies in the lives of these characters, or when the art of the movie captures some museum-level fine art. Whatever the motivation, the change from b/w to color and back works very well, most particularly at the film's quiet, moving and profound conclusion. The tale told is that of a grieving German family whose only son -- the titular Frantz --has been killed during the war. One day at the son's grave site, above, a strange young man appears who seems to be grieving, too.

The man, Adrien (played by Pierre Niney, above, of Yves Saint Laurent and other films) is French, and this fact is enough to outrage the German townspeople, especially the young man's father, played by Ernst Stötzner, below), even though Frantz's fiancee wants to know more about this stranger and his connection to her late and greatly lamented love.

The fiancee, Anna. is played by the lovely German actress Paula Beer (below), and as the film moves on it becomes more and more Anna's story, even though the mystery continues regarding just who Adrien really is and what his relationship with Frantz actually was. Anna. meanwhile, has become an integral part of Frantz's family, helping his parents through their grief, even as she tries to manage her own. Ms Beer proves exceptional, drawing us into her character and making us care deeply about what is going to happen, especially and finally to her.

Though M. Ozon maintains a stately pace, one's interest does not lag, and the filmmaker captures the time and place about as well as I have seen it yet done, without every unduly pushing for "period" effect. This may be his most elegant movie to date, and it is certainly among his best. It is also among the stranger and sadder of love stories -- or near love stories, at least -- one in which lies told for the good of all concerned, along with behavior dictated by social mores and "keeping the peace," all work against the desires and well being of both protagonists.

M. Niney is exemplary, as is usually the case (his YSL movie was a rare misfire), and the rest of cast fill out their roles graciously and well. Along with its story of love lost and love unrequited, Frantz is also enormously anti-war, yet has but one single gunshot fired throughout. As is true in so many of Ozon's movies, the obvious and expected are not what carry the weight. It's those after-effects that linger longest and point up the real damage.

Frantz, from Music Box Films and running 116 minutes, opens tomorrow, March 15, in New York City at Film Forum and the Lincoln Plaza Cinema; in Los Angeles on Friday, March 24, at the Landmark NuArt. Here in South Florida look for the film to open all over the place on March 31: in Miami at the Coral Gables Art Cinema and the O Cinema; in Hollywood at the Cinema Paradiso and Fort Lauderdale at the Savor Cinema; in Boca Raton at the Regal Shadowood and the Living Room Theaters, and at the Movies of Delray and Lake Worth. Over the weeks and months to come, the film will play all across the country. To find the theater nearest you, simply click here, then click on THEATERS on the task bar midway down your screen, and then keep scrolling down.

Third time lucky: Benoît Jacquot's DIARY OF A CHAMBERMAID is the best of the lot so far

Better than Buñuel's with Jeanne Moreau? Better than Renoir's with Paulette Goddard? Yes -- in that this newest version of DIARY OF A CHAMBERMAID, directed (and co-adapted with Hélène Zimmer) by Benoît Jacquot, seems to TrustMovies to be truer in spirit, if not entirely in the letter, to its source material, the novel by Octave Mirbeau. The Buñuel seemed more Buñuel than Mirbeau in many ways, while the Renoir was perhaps a tad too Hollywood (well, it was made there).

The Renoir also appeared at a time -- 1946 -- when American movies could not begin to show us anything approaching real life, even under the French hand of that master. Both films, even if they reflect their makers more than Mirbeau, do hold up quite well today. As much as I liked Jacquot's new version, I find myself wondering if it will hold up as well 50 or 70 years hence. (You may be able to determine this, but I won't.)

In any case, M. Jacquot, shown at left, has given us a movie in which everything -- from the sets and costumes to the incidents and characterizations -- ring true. In the chambermaid role has been cast one of France's finest and most versatile young actors, Léa Seydoux, who can now add this landmark to her exceedingly diverse resume which ranges from Bond girl to arthouse fave. Ms Seydoux, shown above and below, does not disappoint. She makes her character of Célestine by turns angry, loving, prideful, inquiring, hurt, strong, weak -- and always real.

By the end of this relatively short movie, we understand her perhaps as well as we possibly can (and better, I think, than we understand the Célestines played by Goddard and Moreau). Yes, it's fine to leave something to the imagination and the mysterious, but how wonderful it is to enter the life and mind of a character this completely. Seydoux and Jacquot make it possible.

The supporting cast is crackerjack, as well, with the most unusual work being done by that great French everyman, Vincent Lindon (above and only recently seen in The Measure of a Man). Here, as the groundskeeper, Joseph, Lindon plays a character quite different from his usual -- powerful, frightening, sexual and shockingly anti-Semitic -- as he tilts our Célestine, as well as the movie, toward the dark side,

But, again, Ms Seydoux makes the transition fully understandable, believable and sad. We see her not simply with the stupid and lecherous husband and nasty wife at whose home in the provinces she works, but also, in flashback, at other employ, particularly tending to a tubercular young man (Vincent Lacoste, above, right) who is being cared for by his kindly grandmother. We see her flirting with the prospect of employ at a bordello, and especially in the push-and-pull of a tricky and difficult relationship with her employment agent (very well performed by Dominique Reymond).

With each new situation, we see a new side of Célestine, how she behaves and thinks, and by the finale, all these allow the character to grow and deepen into a kind of progressive reality movies are seldom able to furnish. This chambermaid and her diary should stick with you long after the end credits have rolled.

From Cohen Media Group and running just 95 minutes, the movie opens this Friday in New York City at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema and in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Royal. Click here and scroll down to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities and theaters.

LOVE & FRIENDSHIP: Whit Stillman and Jane Austen prove a marriage made in heaven

How is it that Whit Stillman, the guy who's been giving us those dialog-heavy, manners-and-mores movies for 25 years, has only now seen fit to pair up with history's great dialog-heavy, manners-and-mores author, Jane Austen? Whatever the reason(s), the pairing has arrived at last, and audiences should consider themselves blessed. LOVE & FRIENDSHIP (the only thing ordinary is that mediocre title), based on Austen's early novella, Lady Susan, which was published after her death, is, I wager, the best filmed adaptation of Austen we've had so far. (And that would include a bevy of excellent films.)

As both adapter and director, Mr. Stillman, shown at left, not only captures Austen beautifully, he fills his film with such succulent, delicious dialog that we hang on every word, relish (almost) every character and bask in scene after scene of sheer delight. Yeah, I'm piling it on. But, hell, so has Stillman. He's given us the most sheerly enjoyable movie of the year so far, one that captures its period beautifully, while ladeling out a tale of betrayal and survival in which its very smart if not very nice protagonist shows us how to win the game of societal manners by outplaying literally everyone else in view.

Stillman has, with a single exception, cast his movie to perfection, as well, starting with his star, Kate Beckinsale (shown at right, above and below), who -- if you know her via the generally execrable Underworld franchise -- has here the role of a lifetime and plays it like the champion she so clearly is. Her Lady Susan, from one vantage point, is a conniving bitch. From another, she's simply doing what she must to ensure her and her daughter's future in a society that would like nothing better than to see them both brought down.

Ms Beckinsale embodies the role with enormous intelligence and wit. There's a sharpness, a keenness to her behavior that we've seldom seen in the actress. Her earlier roles had some of this, but here, as Austen's unusual heroine, she has the opportunity to make us marvel at her smarts and her daring, her beauty and her fortitude.

The supporting players that surround the actress are well-chosen too -- the most marvelous being the dunderheaded suitor played by Tom Bennett, (shown above, right), who has one of the funniest scenes in modern movies, as a character who has only just been introduced to... peas. If sublime comic timing, together with astute and original characterization, counted for anything in the Oscar race, you might see this actor walk away with a Best Supporting statue.

As Lady Susan's struggling-not-to-be-stifled daughter, Morffyd Clark (above) makes a most engaging impression -- obedient yet unwilling to be married off to someone for whom she feels nothing.

The one performance that leave something to be desired is that of Chloë Sevigny, above. She plays the only American in the bunch, and while it's lovely to see the two stars of Stillman's The Last Days of Disco together again, Ms Sevigny (an actress I usually like very much) simply can't keep up with her British or Australian co-stars in terms of speaking her dialog "trippingly on the tongue." Granted, it has been arranged that she play an American, but, still, when she's speaking onscreen, you want to say, "Come now, Chloë: chop, chop!" But this is hardly a deal-breaker.

In the other male supporting roles, Xavier Samuel, above, makes a fine romantic lead (for several female characters, actually), while James Fleet, below, left, does a thoughtful, feet-on-the-ground job as DeCourcy père. (That's Jemma Redgrave, at right, as mère.)

The filmmaker introduces us to all these characters in the lovely, old-fashioned way of using explanatory title cards at the film's beginning -- which is both stylish and helpful. And as Lady Susan was originally an epistolary tale, Stillman appropriately offers letters, the writing of and delivery of which, keeps the plot bouncing along.

I missed only a tad's worth of dialog, which moves very quickly here, so I plan to see this one again, just as soon as it appears on Blu-ray with English subtitles, so that we get every delicious word. Meanwhile, you can view it in theaters now (it opened two weeks ago in New York and Los Angeles, as Love & Friendship goes nationwide this Friday, May 27.

Here in South Florida, you can see it in the Miami/Fort Lauderdale area at the AMC Aventura Mall 24, Cinepolis Grove 15, Coral Gables Art Cinema, O Cinema Miami Beach, Regal South Beach 18, AMC Sunset Place 24 and Gateway West. In the Palm Beach/Boca areas, it plays the Cinemark Palace 20, the Living Room Theaters, Regal's Shadowood 16, Boynton Beach 14, Movies of Delray, Cinepolis Jupiter 14, Cobb Theaters Downtown Gardens 16, and the Muvico Parisian 20 at CityPlace. Elsewhere around the country? Absolutely. Simply click here, enter your zip code and check out the local theaters that appear. (And, yes, that's the great Stephen Fry, shown at center, above.)

Our Sunday Corner with Lee Liberman -- Thomas Hardy: Far From the Madding Crowd, streaming on HBO

According to novelist Thomas Hardy, there were always badly matched marriage partners, thwarted happiness, and suffering in lovely rural Wessex, (a fictional county in South West England) because Victorian society was that stifling. Hardy (1840-1928) used his rural tales to show the tragic effects that social constraints had on individuals especially regarding marriage and social mobility.

The dictionary defines "madding" as 'frenzied' or 'maddening'. Thus the title infers a rural setting layered with generations who have worked the land (sowing, harvesting, lambing, bee-hiving, etc.) may seem immune from the impurities of city life; but no, making the opposite point to Tolstoy's in Anna Karenina, life in the sticks was as perverse and misery-making as life in the city. The novel of Bathsheba Everdene and her 3 suitors was disconcerting in the day (1874) -- saturated as it was with modern erotic overtones and misery, leading to Hardy's ironic title. However, this tale, unlike Hardy novels to follow, does offer up a conventional happy ending. If this is your one shot at Hardy, enjoy, but for comparison, see the film of Hardy's Woodlanders (1997) with Rufus Sewell streaming on Netflix.

Thomas Vinterberg (above) emerged as a Danish film director: a handsome "precocious, brilliant brat," wrote Guardian reviewer, Andrew Pulver. His bad boy period followed years of youth spent in a middle-class commune, including several films more preoccupied with form than content -- they flopped. Says Vinterberg, "I found I am not an anarchistic form creator; I'm intuitive and I'm trying to figure out a way to explore human frailty." Subsequently his film The Hunt (2012) with Mads Mikkelsen was Academy-Awards nominated Best Foreign Language Film. Now comes "Madding"(2015), a workmanlike production that checks the director box for 'historical fiction', if a somewhat thin effort regarding Hardy's message. The film ploughs and slices through the novel's plot points without lingering on frailty of character, despite Vinterberg having staked out this territory in his own words and it's being material to the novel. But once you see the film, you will know backwards and forwards "what happens" in Hardy's famous work; have savored its sumptuous landscape; and found the piece enjoyable, whatever the critics say.

Vinterberg follows others, notably John Schlesinger, who directed a 3-hour version of the novel in 1967. Critics faulted Schlesinger for not conveying the paralyzing social constraints of the Victorians and for Julie Christie's Bathsheba played as an ethereal feminine archetype which Hardy's Bathsheba certainly was not; but otherwise Schlesinger is said to have better delivered on the psychological overtones than Vinterberg. Carey Mulligan's Bathsheba (above and below), however, is just right -- a sturdy young modern driven by her own will and sense (often naive) of being able to shape her own destiny -- decisively her own mistress and manager of her employees. She masters the business of her estate, impulsively marries the wrong guy, and then gets a do-over. Not bad, except for the tragedy left in her wake. Mulligan glows; she is very much up to the task of Bathsheba Everdene.

The plot in brief: A poor, if well-educated Miss Everdene inherits her uncle's estate and is determined to run it herself, including joining in farm labor. She juggles three earnest suitors -- the reticent if solid farmer Gabriel Oak played by the broad-shouldered Belgian, Matthias Schoenaerts (Rust and Bone, The Danish Girl, currently on screen in sizzler A Bigger Splash); wealthy neighbor Mr Boldwood played with painful self-abnegation by Michael Sheen, a stage and film actor of ingenious and resourceful talent (Masters of Sex), and Frank Troy, the narcissist, played by Tom Sturridge (On the Road, Effie Gray) as a brash, nasty piece of work for whom you squeeze out half an ounce of sympathy anyway. He has impregnated farm girl, Fanny, (Juno Temple), whose life is ruined, her tragedy threading sorrow through the story.

Hardy used some names intentionally. His Gabriel (not only having the surname 'Oak') means 'God's able bodied man'. Bathsheba, like Bathsheba of the Bible, is an object of desire who unwittingly causes death or disaster. A 'dene' is a deeply wooded gorge; thus 'Bathsheba Everdene' represents sex and destructive power set lushly in nature. And she surely played Helen to Sturridge's Troy.

Bathsheba herself hasn't a mean bone in her body; it's just that her strong sense of self stirs up and muddles the conventional expectations around her. Mr. Boldwood (below) says "Miss Everdene, I want very much, more than ANYTHING, to have you as my wife", but Bathsheba will be had by no one (until Troy seduces her, above). Vinterberg does not let us in on Mr. Boldwood's growing lapse into fantasy, pretending she will be his wife. We get a glimpse of his accumulated 'Bathsheba Boldwood' collection of jewels and clothing but nothing of his obsessive behavior. Michael Sheen makes brilliant use of bits of script to convey Boldwood's misery, he breaks your heart in just a few passages, but there is simply not enough story line there to help us imagine his progression from bereaved to demented.

Many a woman will recognize the art of the con in Francis Troy's first invasive stare at Bathsheba. (Hardy tells us Troy 'lied like a cretin' to women.) Just stare and tell a woman she is the most beautiful creature ever seen -- it works. Bathsheba melts into mush. From what we see of her responses to Oak and Boldwood's advances, Bathsheba's rapid seduction by the sociopathic Troy takes her (and us) off guard. She abandons her autonomy and 'what is right' in a mere moment. This shirker doesn't deserve a minute more time in our face, but it would have helped to linger a bit on Bathsheba's bedazzlement (a lesson to all women).

Matthias Schoenaerts' reliable sheep farmer gives nothing away. Whatever pain and disappointment he endures at Bathsheba's rejection, he gets the force of her independence but neither love nor pain ever shows in his eyes. Schoenaerts could have leaked something through those windows, though Gabriel Oak is otherwise endearing and his sensible counsel and actions form the backbone of the story. (Below he teaches her how to sharpen tools.)

Oak warns her about Troy, otherwise staying aloof and stoic while his rivals play out their hands, but supports her through crisis and chaos. At last, having been burned by love, Bathsheba finally knows his value to her, providing the slightly upbeat ending for a Hardy novel (though not upbeat for the several characters whose ending was quite terrible).

I have implicitly faulted Vinterberg for not letting us in quite enough on the harshness of the emotional lives of Hardy's characters; most of the information is there but the chop chop of events needs to slow so the heady emotion in the story can breathe enough for us to absorb it. Nonetheless, this is a lovely work that offers its pleasures, and Vinterberg has checked off 'period film' on his CV with enough dignity to move on -- or perhaps absorb a backward move. His next film The Commune, is based on his own childhood experience.

The above post was written by 

our monthly correspondent, Lee Liberman