Fundamentalist Christianity takes a good kickin' and lickin' in Karen Maine's comedy, YES, GOD, YES

The fundamental hypocrisy embedded in fundamentalist Christianity (yes, in all fundamentalist sects) has been on full display for... what? The past few centuries maybe? So the absolute and often appallingly stupid examples delivered up in the new sex-and-religion comedy YES, GOD, YES ought not come as a surprise to any but the youngest and/or most naive viewers.

This does not mean, however, that these examples do not remain amusing and fun -- even for some of us more aged/jaded audience members.

As written and directed by Karen Maine (shown at left), whose first full-length feature this is, the movie manages to entertain a lot, while provoking just a bit, thanks to the casting of actress Natalia Dyer (shown above and below) in the lead role of a very naive teen named Alice who, thanks to an earlier iteration of the internet (the film takes place maybe 15-20 years ago), is suddenly awakened to sex and its accompanying pleasures -- particularly that of masturbation.

As James Rado informed theater- and movie-goers a few decades back, via his lyrics for the musical Hair, "masturbation can be fun." So can so much else to do with sex (all of which can be problematic, too), yet the restrictive rules placed upon humanity by religion preclude our growth, enjoyment, autonomy and much else where sex is concerned.

Ms Maine and her movie mean to combat this, and they do via a situation which may by now be a bit tired but still engages, and by means of a well-chosen cast which, in addition to the charming, sweet and ill-used character played by Ms Dyer, includes the likes of Donna Lynne Champlin (above, right, of Crazy Ex Girlfriend), Wolfgang Novogratz (below, of The Half of It), and

Timothy Simons (Jonah on Veep), shown at far right below. Though mostly used in one-note fashion, these actors still deliver the necessary goods and keep the ball rolling along in pleasant if standard fashion. The film's best scene, because it veers just a bit from the expected, takes place toward the finale in a local lesbian bar during which our heroine finally gets some advice from an adult that she can actually use and run with.

One might also wish for less obvious coincidence: Would a priest in charge of a school really watch pornography on his office computer with his door wide open for anyone to see? Would the supposedly goody-goody girl go down on her boyfriend on school grounds where they can easily be caught? (TrustMovies could handle only one out of two; you might manage both.)

Still, the sweet, dorky and always believable Ms Dyer quickly becomes the centerpiece that holds it all together, demonstrating once again how, when fundamentalism comes up against inquiring minds and raging hormones, the battle is likely to be funny, silly and a little sad.

From Vertical Entertainment and running just 78 minutes, Yes, God, Yes opens July 24 at Virtual Cinemas and Drive-ins then hits Digital and VOD on Tuesday, July 28.

Nudity, sex, dance (and a little psychology) combine in Boaz Yakin's unusual fim, AVIVA

If I can help it, I will never miss a film by Boaz Yakin. This fascinating, accomplished director and writer (not always within the same film) has given us a raft of good movies, with each of his directorial efforts in a different genre. What his films have in common, seems to me, is their placing an outsider at the center and having him/her eventually -- often at great, if not pyrrhic, cost -- win the day. His latest, AVIVA, as per usual, is not simply in another genre; it mashes up several into something that seems pretty much sui generis.

Mr. Yakin, shown at right (some years back), is always as interested in content as in visuals, but Aviva may be the most visual of all his films, even if not nearly his best.

There's a stunning shot of hands on mugs on a table early on followed by several of the kind of memorable images that, when you think of this film later on, you will probably call to mind -- one of which appears just below. (His cinematographer this time around is Arseni Khachaturan, with film editing by Holle Singer.)

For a good while during this film, thanks to everything from the very hot looking men and women, the copious amounts of nudity (often male and full-frontal, prudes be warned), the sex scenes, the openness to both hetero-and homosexuality and the enormous contribution of dance (much of it quite good) to the film, this seemed to TrustMovies to be the most fun he has had at the movies all year. Then, somewhere around the midway point, repetition begins to set in (along with the nagging sense that there is less here, content-wise, than meets the eye and mind), and Aviva comes subsequently only fitfully to life. Though when it does, it can still prove pretty magical, off and on.

The problem, to my mind, is that the movie's strengths and weaknesses go hand in hand with its director's own, because, I suspect, this film is giving us Yakin's own story and struggle. Although there are four actors credited with playing, sort of, two roles -- that of the titular Aviva (both the female and male versions) and Eden (again, the male and female) -- really, I think, these are all just sides of Yakin himself, who wrote and directed the piece and who is clearly struggling with identity, sexuality, commitment, growth and all the rest of it. (Who of us is not? Though some of us maybe don't realize this yet.)

The biggest problem here is that Yakin seems to identify most, and understandably so, with the male version of Eden (played by a most attractive and nicely hung actor/dancer named Tyler Phillips, above, who is making his movie debut) and who has to deal throughout with a kind of hang-dog attitude in which guilt, coupled to the inability to rise above this and grow up, leads to his growing tiresome and beginning to bore the bejesus out of us. He waffles and he wavers and he can't commit and he's pretty much of an asshole, overall.

While the female Eden, played by Bobbi Jene Smith (above, center left) rather echoes her male counterpart, Ms Smith at least supplied the choreography and some of the fine dancing, she also supplies a lot more energy and pizzazz than does Mr. Phillips, and so watching her is not such a drag. She, along with her companion and co-choreographer Or Schraiber (see below) also appeared together in the 2017 documentary, Bobbi Jene.

The title role, female version is essayed by an attractive and appealing Russian-born actress, Zina Zinchenko (above), while the male version is played by hottie, dancer and co-choreographer (the aforementioned Mr. Schraiber, below), who brings a vast quantity of sex appeal and dance knowledge to the proceedings. (Don't worry if all these sexes and characters seem confusing. Eventually they run together into a kind of sameness, some of which is no doubt intentional on the part of Yakin; the rest of it simply follows.)

Dance is just about everywhere here, and sex is, too. (To his great credit, the filmmaker does not stint on the homo over the supposedly more important role of the hetero, the point being that it is all one.) The production design is spectacular, with locations in Paris, New York and Los Angeles. Unfortunately, the word love is tossed about so carelessly and often that you'll realize the filmmaker -- like so many of us -- is perhaps vamping, while he learns the meaning of the word.

And when, toward the end, a character screams out, "Please! We can't do this anymore," you'll probably agree. At a near two-hour running time, shorter would have been better. Particularly when that male version of Eden is, to use Bill Maher's description of Donald Trump, such a "whiny little bitch." Still, as with just about everything Yakin has given us, when it's good, it is so good, that I would watch it all over again.

From Outsider Pictures and Strand Releasing, Aviva, in all its too-long glory, will hit virtual theaters this coming Friday, June 12. Click here and then scroll down to find the virtual theaters across the country in which the film will play. (There will be a free live-stream Q&A on Saturday, June 13; Sunday June 14; and Saturday, June 20. Click here for more information.)

Is Russell T. Davies' BANANA: EPISODE 2 TV's high point of compact beauty & enchantment?

I've seen this amazing little episode twice now (the BANANA series streams here in the USA via Amazon Prime), and I will probably watch it many times more over the years ahead. In just 23-1/2 minutes, it comes as close to perfection as I can recall -- in writing, directing, performance and particularly in its ability to tell such an all-encompassing tale so succinctly and well.

Banana, for those who don't know, is the very oddball addition to the Cucumber series, also penned by the great writer Russell T. Davies (he's done everything from Queer as Folk to Doctor Who, Torchwood, and A Very English Scandal), in which subsidiary characters from Cucumber are given their own short little tale, via which we get to know them better, as they shine quite brightly.

This is a lovely idea, and Mr. Davies, shown at right, brings it home with such joy, surprise, passion and delight that I should think you'll be immediately hooked. Best of all, you do not need to have seen Cucumber first. If you have, this will add to your enjoyment, but it is absolutely not necessary.

Cucumber, as it tracks the lives of some middle-aged gay men, as well as some much younger gays, proves funny, dark, moving and altogether special. It's like little else you'll have seen in the GLBT genre.

And while sex is the driving force at work in Cucumber, Banana concentrates on the need for connection.
Connections of many sorts are made here, some sexual, others not, yet all prove of equal importance.

The series offers eight episodes in all, with numbers two, six and seven TrustMovies' favorites (all are wonderful and very much worth seeing). That second episode stars two remarkable actresses -- Letitia Wright (above, left) and Rosie Cavaliero (above, right) -- and is a tale of love at first sight, in which both the huge and the tiny changes that occur prove absolutely understandable and believable.

How good to see Ms Cavaliero, who has been around now for decades and is always terrific, in a role this special, while Ms Wright (above and below), who has been around for a much shorter time (she's a nominee in this year's BAFTA Awards for Best "Rising Star") proves extraordinary in a role that should mark her in your memory for life. Here she gives "innocence" the kind of depth and glory you'll not have heretofore experienced.  Possessing a face you cannot help but fall in love with, Wright also offers in her roles -- so far, at least (Black Panther, Black Mirror and The Commuter, to name but three) -- versatility & maximum acting chops.

In those remarkable 23 minutes (directed very well by Lewis Arnold), Davies probes attraction, marriage, relationships, trust, the workplace and more with such specificity, nuance, charm and sheer fun and surprise that you'll keep alert and alive for every second. Don't miss Banana, and then maybe explore some of this wonderful writer's other work.

The hot new Netflix series from Spain, entitled ELITE, proves sensational twice over

There are two major meanings of the word "sensational," and both easily fit the new Spanish series streaming now on Netflix. The first refers to something causing great public interest and excitement (synonyms: shocking, scandalous, appalling), the second tackles the quality of that thing: very impressive, gorgeous, stunning, captivating, and so forth. ELITE, which is set in an uber-high-end prep school in Spain in which the students, hormone-fueled to the max, engage in all kinds of sex -- straight, gay, and even threesomes -- proves sensational on both fronts.

The product of a pair of well-known Spanish writers/producers (shown above, respectively right and left), Darío Madrona (Vive cantando) and Carlos Montero (The Time in Between), Elite will be quite enough for some viewers interested in watching a group of gorgeous young actors, clothed and unclothed, getting it on. That we come to know and understand these kids so well and begins to care about them more and more as the series progresses is due to the exceptional writing and the crack performances given by every last cast member.

In conception and execution, Elite proves exactly that. The plot kicks into action as a trio of new students -- a Muslim girl and two boys of clearly working-class status, above (above, left to right: Itzan Escamilla, Mina El Hammani, and Miguel Herrán) -- are introduced into this high school made up of the sons and daughters of Spain's exclusive and entitled one per cent (two of which are shown below: Ester Expósito and Álvaro Rico)  Divisions are immediately drawn -- by the end of the first episode we know that a murder has been committed -- and the following seven episodes are devoted to blurring those divisions.

We soon find that we are seeing some good in the kids we initially despised, while finding fault with those we liked and most rooted for. In short, the characters here are rounded; they grow and they change. Some more than others, and some very little (especially the nasty, rich bitch below, played to near-perfection by Danna Paola), and their movements back and forth as they learn who they are, along with who their friends really are (or aren't) makes the series grow ever richer.

The Spanish, bless 'em, may be the best purveyors of melodrama in the world (followed perhaps by the South Koreans). Grand Hotel is of course the sterling example for our millennium, with so many other series like La casa de papel (known as Money Heist on Netflix) not far behind. Is this creative ability built into the Spanish DNA? One does have to wonder because -- so clever is the plotting, so fine the casting and characterizations, and so spectacular the production design and visuals -- little else compares.

The series is said to have raised eyebrows and hackles in its native Spain, ostensibly for its sexuality. (That's Arón Piper , left, with newcomer Omar Ayuso, above.) But I do wonder if, on a deeper level, it's the cynical "take" on the children of the one per cent, and their powerful, mostly despicable parents holding onto to power by any means necessary, that has riled the powers-that-be even more.

The attitude here is mostly progressive, including even the sex-and-sin portions, which are plentiful. Though we know the murder victim early on (this is nothing like Big Little Lies), the identity of the murderer remains hidden until the finale. (That's Miguel Bernardeau, above right, as the most entitled and pushy of the elite crew.)

Any justice, however, will have to be meted out during Elite's second season. There will surely be one, as the first season has been a major hit, with its popularity only growing as more countries discover its pleasures. Above, right, is Jaime Lorente, who plays the pivotal older brother of one of the new students. Both he and Senor Herrán (standing, below, center, and at bottom, left), are also stars of the Money Heist series. The two are clearly talented and versatile performers, with Herrán quite the little scene-stealer.

Probably the most problemed and difficult of all these characters is our sort-of heroine, Marina, played by María Pedraza, below, whose behavior and decisions will have you rooting for her one minute and wanting to smack her the next. Ms Pedraza was also in Money Heist, playing the pivotal character of Alison Parker. She is so different here as to be very nearly unrecognizable, yet in her own strange way, she holds the series' first season together.

You can stream Elite now, here in the USA and elsewhere via Netflix. Do give it a try. TrustMovies' blood pressure is still raised a bit, thanks to all the provocative goings-on.

At NYC's FIAF next week: another delectable Sacha Guitry delight, THE STORY OF A CHEAT

Lovers of classic French cinema had better mark their calendar for this coming Tuesday, April 24, when FIAF's New York City branch screens one of cinema/theater-master Sacha Guitry's enduring works, THE STORY OF A CHEAT (Le roman d'un tricheur) from 1936. TrustMovies has come quite late to discovering the films of this fellow, having just recently seen and reviewed his remarkable La Poison. As I noted earlier, and now feel even more strongly, I want to view anything by M. Guitry that I can get my hands on. The filmmaker, shown below, came from theatrical roots, which can be seen and heard in his remarkable dialog and his delightful way with words.

Sophisticated and urbane, Guitry had a grand understanding of humanity's foibles, including not only its need for hypocrisy and denial but also for bonding, beauty and love. He's a satirist who is wonderfully humane but rarely sentimental and never stupid. He sees the irony in just about everything and everyone, and this gives his work a consistent jolt of pleasure and surprise. Don't get too comfortable, he seems to be telling us, because that kick in the ass is just around the corner.

The tale Guitry tell here is one of a late-middle-aged fellow sitting at a little Parisian cafe, writing his memoir (beginning with his life as a child, above, in a family of 12) -- which springs to life as he writes and speaks. Much of the movie is told via narration (there is surprisingly little actual dialog here), and were this narration not so cleverly written and sustained via Guitry's wit and charm, we might grow weary of it. No chance of that.

How the child is suddenly orphaned and why he survives -- it involves thievery and punishment -- ought to be awful and horrifying. In Guitry's hands it is instead delightfully funny and witty, and so we follow this kid as he grows into an adolescent, then a young man and then into full maturity -- as both the "cheat" of the title (above) and yet somehow not quite a cheat at all.

The world is filled with cheats of all types and both sexes, we -- and our narrator -- soon learn, and these involve everyone from the woman with whom he has his first affair to his later jewel-thief mistress (above), and his even later on-paper-only wife (who eventually is to become, unknown to her, his one-night-stand). More of these cheats are female than male -- the men seeming to be the stronger and perhaps more trustworthy sex.
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Based upon the two films I've so far seen, Guitry could be accused of some misogyny, I think, and probably rightly so. He's a child of his time, after all, who perhaps today would have grown out of this, at least somewhat. I may have to correct my views once I've seen more of his work. Even so, this trait does not overpower the many strengths this writer/filmmaker possesses.

Nothing is sacred here: not gambling, not sex, not childhood, not family, and certainly not the Principality of Monaco! Well, maybe friendship. That seems to be something that could stand the test of time. Meanwhile, we have some delightful locations, assignations and peregrinations to enjoy. 

Guitry's sublime sense of irony, his great skill at story-telling, and above all his love of humanity in all its sublime silliness and sadness makes this movie a keeper indeed. How lovely that FIAF is showing the film as part of its CinéSalon series, Classic of French Cinema with Olivier Barrot, the journalist and TV personality.

The Story of A Cheat will screen at FIAF this coming Tuesday, April 24, at 4pm and 7:30, with the talk by M. Barrot scheduled for 6:45pm and open to audiences at both screenings. As usual with CinéSalon, there will be a post-screening wine/beer reception. For more information and/or tickets, simply click here.

For those of you not in the tri-state area or who can't make the FIAF screening, it may be of service to know that the film also exists on DVD via Criterion and its no-frills Eclipse collection and via FilmStruck -- for purchase, rental or streaming. 

Click here for more information.

Peter Vack's ASSHOLES (his movie, not his anatomy-plus-one) pushes the envelope another mile or two

A film for which the term gross-out must surely have been created, ASSHOLES exists to shock via schlock. It succeeds. Unlike last year's The Greasy Strangler, which also pushed the envelope but provided a good deal more fun in the process, this new example of barrier-busting proves a little too reliant on shock-value only and humor that hits us mostly via heavy hand and flat foot. As written and directed by Peter Vack (who also co-stars in the film as its "heroine's" brother), the movie combines bedroom and bathroom activities in a manner that will turn many stomachs but, inevitably, also a few heads. Its success will depend in good part on how willing you are to revel in the very, very naughty -- i.e: images of shit and herpes-encrusted mouths, noses and one flaccid penis.

Mr. Vack, shown at right, has a good deal more acting bona fides than those in the writing/directing category. This is his first-length film, and I do hope he's gotten certain bugs out of his system by giving it to us. If so, it will have served a below-the-surface purpose. If not, well, I wonder just how much further he can push that envelope without destroying it completely -- along with us viewers. The tale he has to tell is of two friends who, they eventually discover, go to the same therapist, so one day, post-therapy, they head to his apartment for some sex, during which they also discover they share a fixation with assholes.

They also happen to be addicts, who soon fall into a new addiction to poppers, which leads them into all sorts of naughtiness, the nadir of which is somehow rousing a demon out of one (maybe both) of their titular nether regions. The cast is certainly game, with the two leads (Betsey Brown and Jack Dunphy, shown above and below, left and right respectively) jumping into the spirit of the piece with both barrels and a number of orifices. The most professional performances -- I suspect because the actors are not required to gross us out so very often -- come from the performers who play our heroine's parents: Jane Brown and Ron Brown. (Is this perhaps a family affair?)

Among the bizarre non-delights of the film are the close-ups of the herpes virus in full swing, and an image that, I swear, looks like it came right out of the execrable Mother!'s opening shot, which appears here, inserted into a scene of 69 anal sex. The movie's funniest moments occur during a group therapy session amongst some analysts into which the pretend-Census Bureau barges.

Along the way Vack makes fun of everything from analysis to vomit, disease, sex and death. Unfortunately none of this turns out to be much fun for the viewer. Almost all the filmmaker's scenes go on too long, and the musical score blares loudly and often. But, hey, give the guy credit: He does bust a bunch of taboos. Unnecessarily.

From Factory 25 and Breaking Glass Pictures, Assholes opens theatrically this Friday, October 6, in New York City (at the ever-daring Cinema Village) and at the Parkway in Baltimore for a one-week run; and for one showing only at the Alamo Drafthouse in Yonkers, NY, on Saturday, October 7 at 10pm. It will come to VOD on Tuesday, October 24. Your move.

A country and a family on the road to ruin in Syllas Tzoumerkas' Greek drama, A BLAST

What was it like to have been a citizen of Greece back in 2014, when the film under consideration here -- A BLAST -- was first released? In it, we watch, semi-hypnotized by the behavior -- crazy, highly sexual, and not very loving -- of the family members we encounter. Even when they appear to be trying to approximate kindness, most of their actions comes out as either passive-aggressive or full out angry. And why not, since their country is headed for, if not already completely mired in financial ruin. As the whipping boy for the IMF and World Bank, Greece's employment rate was running at around 28 per cent, with the youth unemployment rate nearly double that. The family's personal lives and financial situation, we soon discover, are even worse.

As written and directed by Syllas Tzoumerkas (shown at left, and more recently the co-writer of that self-destructive doctor movie, Suntan), A Blast begins in media res, as we see a car racing through a forest near the sea, even as we hear a news report of a fire seemingly caused by arson. Tzoumerkas then flashes back to (sort of) happier days, and we see a pair of adults siblings playing/fighting at the beach, as exposition is dropped fairly speedily and well, prior to our meeting these young ladies' parents: mom, confined to a wheelchair but still apparently ruling the roost, along with a rather weak-willed dad.

Our star and heroine, Maria, is played by the oft-seen Greek actress Angeliki Papoulia (above and below, from Dogtooth, Alps and The Lobster), a beautiful woman who possesses a good body, expressive face and a fine array of acting chops. In this particular film however, Ms Papoulia proves mostly sex-crazed.

In one bizarre scene (above), she goes into a computer room full of men at work, turns on her computer to a porn site and proceeds to watch and listen, even as the poor guys around her find it, well, hard to concentrate on their own screen.

Her need for sex would seem to stem, at least in part, from the unavailability of her extremely handsome and hunky husband, Yannis (newcomer Vassilis Doganis, above and below), a Greek marine who's off at sea for much of the time. Yannis himself seems to be getting plenty of sex, even if his wife is not: We see him with a pretty black woman at one point (perhaps a prostitute), and then, having a very hot encounter with a male shipmate. Filmmaker Tzoumerkas makes certain we get, early on, a full-frame, full-frontal of his actor in the nude, and then intercuts often pieces of a soft-core sex scene (below) into his film's flashbacks. Thus we get plenty of the physicality of this rather amazing performer, whose first film this was, and who, according to the IMDB, has not been heard of since. Not to worry, what we see of him in A Blast should make Mr. Doganis a rather permanent fixture in some of our sexual memory banks.

As the family's fortunes wane further, and mom's misdeeds (that's Themis Bazaka in the role, below) become apparent, daughter Maria grows crazier and crazier. While Ms Papoulia does a bang-up job of creating this woman's disintegration, Mr. Tzoumerkas has not given us quite enough depth in his screenplay to make the movie into the tragedy that this kind of story probably deserves.

The family seems simply too crazy too soon, and so, even as more weird incidents pile up, our sympathy fails to be engaged past a certain surface point. The situation -- Greece's and the family's -- is certainly fraught and vitally important. Yet the handling of it all, while perhaps enough for the Greek audience that has by now lived through so much pain, austerity and other major crap, may not prove quite enough for those of us internationally who have yet to feel the ever-tightening vise of globalization and wealth inequality as wielded by the world's most powerful at their most damaging.

Perhaps a little less sex and a little more specificity regarding Greek life, family and otherwise, might have made this movie -- if less marketable internationally -- more meaningful and important.

From IndiePix Films and running a just-about-right 80 minutes, A Blast makes its U.S. DVD debut this coming Tuesday, August 22 -- for purchase and/or rental.