Showing posts with label surveillance movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label surveillance movies. Show all posts

Monday, April 11, 2016

Vincent Lindon gives another great, understated performance in Stéphane Brizé's new film, THE MEASURE OF A MAN


While he's played -- and brilliantly --  everything from politicians (Pater) to husbands, sleazy (Chaos) and caring (Pour elle), Vincent Lindon (above) excels as the "ordinary guy," the "working stiff," the "everyman" of France. Lindon got two of his finest roles a few years back via writer/director Stéphane Brizé (shown below) in the great near-love story Mademoiselle Chabon and the end-of-life drama A Few Hours fo Spring.  Now, this actor's actor is back with Brizé again in a film -- THE MEASURE OF A MAN (La loi du marché) -- in which he won Best Actor both at this year's César awards and at the Cannes Film Festival.

This is a stunning movie, but so quietly does it build that it is over before it has fully sunk in. Don't worry, it won't go away, sticking with you long after the end credits have rolled. As the film unfurls to show us the current life of a fifty-one-year-old Frenchman, Thierry Taugourdaud, unemployed and given very bad suggestions and even worse implementations from his local unemployment office, we see nothing less than the state of western society today -- French style. Most of the specifics here travel easily, however: People are but corporate cogs, and it is up to the individual to assure his place, along with the place of those he loves, in the scheme of things.

The filmmaker uses his usual close-in and near-documentary style, but even more so here than in his other films I've seen. This creates a filmed world that seems remarkably like our real one, and Brizé shoots in relatively lengthy scenes that force us to see what is happening on more than merely a visual level. This allows us to experience the pain, fear, enjoyment, anger, embarrassment and all the rest that exist in these usually quiet but often fraught scenes.

We see that Thierry, the Lindon character, exists as a real person, a genuine one who expresses himself and his needs more honestly and directly than do many of those around him. This happens first at the employment office, where he tries to make the person behind the desk understand how the government has quite literally wasted almost a year of his time. Later, during the classroom session using a filmed would-be employment interview (above), we see even more of the genuineness of this man, who is not so gifted at "playing the game."

At home with his loving wife (Karin de Mirbek, above, right) and handicapped son (Matthieu Schaller, below) to whom he seems a kindly, if not overly demonstrative, dad, Thierry is more relaxed than anywhere else. So we relax, too, basking in the time our hero gets to be with those he loves. There's a dance class (to which he most likely goes to please his wife), during which there's an embarrassing but very real scene in which he must dance with the male teacher. Then later, at home, we see the results of this, and they're quite beautiful.

Brizé does not connect all his dots. We move suddenly from one time or place to another, in which we see that things have drastically changed. Now Thierry has a job, and perhaps a pretty good one, as a security person at the local supermarket chain. We witness a really lovely goodbye party for a long-time employee, in which even the "big boss" seems like a relatively good guy.

As Thierry learn the ropes, however, he also learns that downsizing is the order of the day, and part of his job is not simply to catch customers who shoplift but to catch employees who are maybe doing some underhanded stuff, too.  How all this plays out is done in the same low-key/quiet-burn style in which we see and feel what is happening from a number of perspectives: Thierry's, his bosses', the perps/victims. (That's the store manager, played by Saïd Aïssaoui, below, left.)

The constancy of surveillance is front and center, along with what this does to both the surveilled and surveillers. The movie takes its place alongside other fine workplace films -- Mi piace lavorare (Mobbing) and the recent Two Days, One Night -- as examples of the work world and our place in it. The choice Thierry makes is truthful and understandable, though you may also see some alternatives to it. Rocking the boat with political action is one of these, but as we've been shown via an earlier scene, Thierry is more a loner than a joiner.

Brizé does not offer answers, difficult or easy. He simply lays out the puzzle pieces of one man, his family and his employment history, and lets us fill them all in. The result, once complete, is very real not very pretty, but compelling and -- thanks to M. Lindon -- commanding, as well.

The Measure of a Man-- from Kino Lorber and running just 93 minutes, opens this Friday, April 15, in New York City at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema and the new Metrograph. The latter venue, in honor of M. Lindon, will screen four of this actors finer roles this week in the days preceding the film's opening. You can see that Metrograph schedule here.

(I do wish the Metrograph had included Chaos, shown at right, on its schedule, a movie in which Lindon excels, and which also gives us Catherine Frot and Rachida Brakni at their best.) In any case, there are another ten cities on the current film's limited release schedule (as of now). Click here then scroll down to see them all. Here in South Florida, The Measure of a Man will play single screenings at the Movies of Delray (April 17), at the Movies of Lake Worth (April 19) and then a week's run starting May 6 at Miami's Tower Theater.  In Los Angeles. look for it at Laemmle's Royal, come May 20.

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Black & Muslim & Gay & Under FBI surveillance -- whew! Jay Dockendorf's NAZ & MAALIK


Yet another of those movies said to be inspired by "true events," NAZ & MAALIK, the new Brooklyn-set film written and directed by Jay Dockendorf (shown below), certainly gives its two eponymous heroes plenty to contend with. Yet, instead of treating this rather full plate -- race, religion, sexuality and law enforcement harassment -- as something full of drama and/or melodrama, the filmmaker instead offers it up (with the rather embarrassing exception of  how he handles the FBI surveillance) in a realistic, if somewhat romantic, documentary style.

On the one hand, it's refreshing to see black, gay Muslims treated with the kind of honesty and respect we might see in other movies featuring straight, white Christians or Jews. Plus, the lovely performances by the two leads -- Curtiss Cook, Jr. (below, left, as Maalik) and Kerwin Johnson, Jr. (below, right, as Naz) -- gives the movie what little juice it has, bringing us over to the side of these two young men and keeping us there, for awhile, at least. The movie begins with some promise: a blackmailing sister, its Bed-Sty background, and a probably mildly-illegal trade by the two boys who re-sell Lotto tickets on the street. One can appreciate Dockendorf's wish to engulf some realism, but he spends so much time with repetitive and finally not-so-enlightening Lotto-tickets episodes that we soon long to go elsewhere.

We do manage to get into a local mosque, only briefly, and into the homes of the kids, but we don't learn nearly as much as we could from all this (the dialog, while often sounding "real" is also alternately expository and a little tiresome). Mostly we spend time with the two boys, watching Maalik push for more physical intimacy, as Naz backs away.

Many of the scenes smack of too much overt exposition, and once the FBI gets involved they smack of amateur hour, as well. I don't question that an agent might possibly pull a gun on the suspects while questioning them on the street, but as shown here, this scene is unreal and embarrassing.

The biggest problem is that the movie has no momentum; it simply wanders. When some momentum finally comes, it is provided by, of all things, a chicken. The reason for the chicken and way the final scenes add up also seem more problematic and "managed" than they are believable. And while this lack of momentum does help the movie resist melodrama, unfortunately it resists any real drama, too. And then, instead of ending, it simply stops.

I applaud the moviemaker's tackling of themes this weighty and the performances of his two lead actors. This is Dockendorf's first full-length film, so perhaps we'll see more and better in time to come.

From Wolfe Releasing and running 86 minutes, after a successful LGBT film festival exposure, the movie has its theatrical debut in New York City at the Cinema Village this Friday, January 22, with a DVD and digital release from Wolfe Video fast following on Tuesday, January 26.