ROLL RED ROLL: Nancy Schwartzman's expansive documentary about rape culture at that Steubenville, Ohio, high school

The rape, back in 2012, of a teenage girl by a couple of guys from the Steubenville, Ohio, football team did not go unnoticed by our national press. I recall reading about it in The New York Times in the months afterward and being surprised (but not really) at the nastiness of both the thing itself, and of some of the reactions of the students and adults who were involved, even as bystanders, to this ugly event.

Even if you remember a lot about this, too, TrustMovies suspects you will still be surprised and quite interested in the information garnered by filmmaker Nancy Schwartzman and how she has delivered it for further exploration in her new documentary, ROLL RED ROLL. The movie is quietly involving and finally as depressing as it is devastating.

Ms Schwartzman, pictured at left, has a low-key but penetrating style; this is nothing like so many of the obvious, repetitive and cliche-ridden weekly television programs that deal with "true crime."

Instead, the filmmaker has unearthed enough behind-the-scenes information and subsidiary characters, one of which -- a female crime blogger named Alexandria Goddard (shown below) -- seems as close to the heroine of the documentary as you'll find. Ms Goddard, when she first heard of this incident, did her own digging, and her blog posts made much of the town of Steubenville angry as hell. For very good -- if very guilty -- reason: As in so much of American, today, just as at the time of this event, boys, machismo, and football trample just about everything in their path. Especially girls and even a remote sense of justice.

One of the most interesting things about the documentary is the manner in which it demonstrates both the horror and the help produced by social media. What we see of these footballers' texts speaks volumes about male entitlement and the place of the female in American society. And the collusion between everyone from parents and students to school administrators and teachers to protect the guilty and tarnish the victim is appalling, disgusting. What is uncovered here goes both farther back and farther ahead than this single rape incident.

Schwartzman also reconstructs the night of the crime, the where and the when, along with the police investigation, then puts it all together so that we easily follow things. By the time Anonymous becomes involved, further goosing justice into a "woke" state, you'll be holding your breath yet again. Schwartzman and her crew have done a major service in helping to upend the ongoing rape culture so prevalent in our own and much of western (hell, eastern, too) society, personified perhaps most clearly and wretchedly by the current President of the United States.

A Together Films release running a lean 80 minutes, Roll Red Roll opens in its theatrical premiere this Friday, March 21, at Film Forum, New York City. Other playdates? I don't find any currently listed on either the distributor's or the film's web site. But if you are not currently in the NYC area, the documentary will air later this spring as part of the popular PBS series, POV. Check your local PBS station for more details.

"Rob the Mob" again, as Nick Sandow's grittier and uglier version, THE WANNABE, opens

One of TrustMovies favorite films of last year was Raymond DeFelitta's enchanting true-life crime tale, Rob the Mob (my review is here). What a surprise, then, to encounter another, different version of the same story in this week's opener, THE WANNABE. The copyright date shown at the end of the end credits for this "new" film lists 2013, which does lead one to wonder: Why was not The Wannabe released prior to Rob the Mob? Did star Patricia Arquette's "Oscar" win this past year have anything to do with why we're suddenly seeing the film in theaters? Or maybe it's because of the fact that another "Oscar" winner, Martin Scorsese, is one of its executive producers, with his name prominently displayed on the movie's poster. Whatever. Here it is, comin' atcha, and hey, it's not a bad film at all.

Unfortunately, it is also not nearly as good nor as entertaining as the DeFelitta version, though it is every bit as well-acted. Writer/director Nick Sandow (shown at left and probably best known at this point for his role as prison-warden-wannabe in Orange Is the New Black) is clearly more interested in the darker side of this tale and its two leading characters, a younger man (the wannabe of the title, very well-limbed by Vincent Piazza) and his older woman girlfriend, played with ever-increasing flair and determination by a very believable and ultra-fiery Ms Arquette (shown below).

The Wannabe begins well and hold its own for some time, as we learn about and actually grow to like these two clearly damaged people. Just how damaged (and by what) will come clear a bit later. For now, it's enough that Piazza's Thomas (below) is in thrall to mobster John Gotti, while Arquette's Rose is clearly smitten with this strange young man who quickly falls in love with his "dynamite" woman.

The two movies follow very similar courses -- we meet Thomas' brother (Michael Imperioli) who owns a florist shop, and look in on the job Rose find the kid with the company she works for and whose boss (John Ventimiglia) is a good guy willing to give Thomas, a parolee, a decent opportunity. Then come the mafia club robberies, which grow crazier and crazier until....

The difference resides in the tone and attitude of the filmmakers: De Felitta opts for charm and caring (as is usually his wont) over the darkness explored by Sandow. There's nothing wrong with darkness, mind you, but when it begins to grow repetitive and finally tiresome, we crave more.

Yet the performances from everyone on view are just fine, with Arquette the standout, and Piazza not far behind. She captures the thrill of a return to youth, while he nails the loser/wannabe side of his character while still managing to make believable the fact that this woman, with her many problems, could still fall hard for the likes of him. Piazza's acting embarrasses us at times -- but in the manner that only a genuinely believable performance can carry off. The kid is that good.

The handheld camera work is first-rate, tossing us into the middle of things and making them just as sad and ugly as they probably are; the dialog seems as accurate as you could want; and the movie even posits a nifty theory of just who it was that tried to kill Curtis Sliwa, due to this "commentator's" constant anti-Gotti heckling.

The Wannabe -- running a relatively swift first 60 minutes before bogging down some for its final 30 -- opens this Friday, December 4, in New York City at the AMC Empire 25 and in Los Angeles at the Arena Cinema in Hollywood. 

The rich are different in FOXCATCHER, Bennett Miller's look at class, depression & psychosis

How glum is FOXCATCHER, the new movie directed by Bennett Miller (shown below), who earlier gave us Moneyball and Capote? One of the "grayest" movie ever made in color (I don't recall the sun's shining even once, and if you can find a character smiling or happy, do let me know), even when the wrestling champ played by Channing Tatum wins his big match, the sense of dread and doom that hangs over this film is palpable. Granted, the story here -- of the nutcase du Pont heir who took the wrestler under his "wing" and then for good measure took in his older brother as trainer -- is one of the crazier in America's storied history of the damage, personal and societal, that cracked wealth can wreak. No wonder nobody's smiling here.

The screenplay, by E. Max Frye and Dan Futterman, follows pretty closely the news story I recall from the late 1980s, when the events took place. What does not seem to be explored in any depth but is clearly suggested is how the behavior of the rich in our society is pampered, enabled and excused by everyone around them -- from their employees to their peers and even the local police. The results of this are shown here in all their cruddy glory. The rich, in this case, are personified by Jean du Pont (Vanessa Redgrave) and her son John (Steve Carell, shown below), and both actors do what they can by the fairly proscribed roles that allow them mostly a single note: in Ms Redgrave's case, it's rich/restrained, in Mr. Carell's it's rich/nutty.

Much has been made of Carell's hugely changed facial appearance via a prosthetic nose, and if the Academy follows its usual path of honoring prosthetics over performance (Monster and The Hours are two examples), we might see an Award in sight once again. (Carell, a fine and versatile actor, does everything he can with his role, but the screenplay's lack of exploration of his character (beyond a rich momma's boy) leaves him somewhat stymied.

Mr. Tatum, above, adds another feather to his growing cap of fine performances. He's definitely the saddest character on view, with no life to speak of except his sport: he's got a bleak history and probably an even bleaker future. Times were perhaps a bit better back in the 80s than they are now, but in any case depression seems to reign over all.

The most "normal" character in the film would be older brother Dave, played by Mark Ruffalo (above). A family man who loves and honors his brother, and then tries to do the same for du Pont, Ruffalo's Dave captures the innate kindness of the man, as well as his physical abilities and skill in training. (The wrestling scenes here register as pretty authentic.)

Foxcatcher (the title comes from the name of the DuPont farm, later doubles as the name of the Olympic training ground the farm becomes) is a mostly male movie; the only women we see much of are Redgrave's closed-off mother and Dave's wife (played by Sienna Miller, above), who is also shown to be unhappy most of the time. Bleakness even hangs over the few scenes of family fun that Dave, his wife and kids engage in.

I can appreciate Miller's and his screenwriters' aim to give us a kind of peculiarly American tragedy in the making, but I wonder if their constant insistence on the glum does not begin to make the film feel too manipulative. Even into the bleakest of lives a little joy sometimes falls, but you'd never know that from what we see here. Never uninteresting, though a certain sameness does eventually sink in, Foxcatcher is definitely worth seeing. Some of the Hosannas we've been hearing, however, seem a tad out of place.

From Sony Pictures Classics and running a lengthy 134 minutes, Foxcatcher opens this Friday in Los Angeles (at the Arclight Hollywood, AMC Century City 15 and The Landmark) and New York City (at the Regal EWalk 13, AMC Lincoln Square and the Landmark Sunshine), and will open nationwide in the weeks to come. To see all currently scheduled playdates with cities and theaters, click here and scroll down.

On DVD: In APPROPRIATE ADULT Jarrold & McKaye give us two ugly British serial killers

Can you create a spellbinding, two-and-a-quarter-hour program about a pair of British husband-wife serial killers without ever showing any of their killings? Gorehounds will take offense, but intelligent, mature audiences will be hooked from scene one, as APPROPRIATE ADULT, the two-part series produ-ced for British tele-vision in cooperation with the Sundance Channel, makes its DVD debut this coming week.

As directed by Julian Jarrold (pictured at right; he did the first of the three Red Riding British TV crime movies) and written by Neil McKay, this based-on-true-events film holds us in thrall by virtue of its understanding of how to leaven a dark, horrific police procedural with enough of the life of the two families involved (one horrible, the other normally abnormal) to balance, if oddly, one story against the other. Mr. Jarrold's ability to do this is helped in no small measure by Mr. McKay's very effective screenplay that uses dialog, along with place and situation, to create three amazing lead characters, plus a host of well-drawn underlings who help provide an unflagging sense of reality in both the police station and the home (the movie's two main locations).

All of the above is well and good, but without the work of three appropriate actors, Appropriate Adult might go off the rails. The three prize-winning actors cast here are simply remarkable, and it is no surprise that they walked away with their BAFTA awards for Best Actress, Best Actor and Best Supporting Actress.

Emily Watson (above) is never less than accomplished and real; in certain roles she's well-nigh perfect, and this is one of them. She plays Janet Leach, the woman chosen to be the "appropriate adult" present as the police question their suspect, Fred West. (The British legal system is different from ours, but this particular use of a civilian, along with police presence, looks like a rather smart one.) Does any actress (from Breaking the Waves to Oranges and Sunshine) do vulnerable-yet-strong better than does Ms Watson? See for youself.

The role of Fred is taken of Dominic West (above, center), an actor of not a little versatility. He can handle comedy (Johnny English Reborn), romance and post-traumatic stress (he's currently in The Awakening), macho adventure (Centurion), cartoon villainy (Punisher: War Zone) and rom-com-dram (Mona Lisa Smile) all with ease -- not to mention his work in The Wire. As Fred West, this actor with the same last name gives what is probably his best performance ever. He keeps Ms Watson's character -- and us -- so off-balance for so long that we're reeling. He's at once sexy and horrible, vulnerable and strong, fascinating and frightening and always, still, a mystery. The movie never quite solves him, and this is exactly as it should be.

As his wife Rose -- a woman we know much less of, and the kind of criminal creep who understands that silence is her best defense -- Monica Dolan (above, with her award) is a huge surprise. I've seen her in some small roles, but nothing like the creature she creates here: all angry, nasty, never-give-an-inch ugliness. The interplay of these three with each other and with the rest of the fine cast makes for quite a study in evil -- and what it takes to smother it. For awhile.

Appropriate Adult hits the street, on DVD only, this Tuesday, September 11, 2012, from Inception Media Group, for sale or rental, and also available digitally.

A queasy-making documentary for all kinds of reasons: Bart Layton's THE IMPOSTER

It seems to TrustMovies that he read an article in The New Yorker several years ago that detailed the exact story told in the new faux-documentary THE IMPOSTER. If not, then it was a tale surprisingly like that of this film. Being one of those very long New Yorker articles, it didn't get finished by TM, who only has time for reading material while he's traveling on the subway or bus. (At all other times he's in screening rooms, watching; at home, writing; or occasionally babysitting the grand-kids.) So as he watched this interesting and bizarre documentary, it began to take on a kind of second life for him. He knew it, sort of -- until the point that he didn't, and then everything became new, rather than slightly second-hand.

The filmmaker here, Bart Layton (shown at left) appears to have chosen the relatively new and increasingly traveled road taken by more and more movie documentarians: combining in some form both documentary and narrative. You can achieve this via the ever-popular "re-enactment," as James Marsh is apt to do; or the strange and lovely fantasy/dreamscape/reality combo used by Alma Har'el in Bombay Beach; or any number of shake-ups that can be grafted onto the form of the modern documentary. Layton, if I am interpreting his approach correctly, has tried to stick entirely to the facts, as known -- or to the best-guess speculation -- then hired actors to play the major roles, mouthing dialog that the real people might have spoken, and then filmed all of this in the style of a documentary. In a sense this is in some ways close to the old- (and new-) fashioned doc-style drama based on fact -- from I Want to Live to Boys Don't Cry. The difference is that Layton has filmed his tale so much in the affectless, documentary style that you could swear you were watching the real people simply behaving as best they can in front of the camera. Nice trick!

In any case, you are almost completely enfolded in this story that houses some awfully creepy characters, all the more so because they seem blithely unaware of their own creepiness. As to the story itself, it's a humdinger (or maybe a bumdinger: a humdinger that's a bummer) -- hugely strange from both the aspect of the titular imposter (a man in his 30s who likes to pretend to be a young teenager) to that of the family so eager to have its missing child back that it will overlook just about any discrepancy in fact or appearance. Are these people crazy, you begin to wonder? Or is something else far worse at work here?

That "something else" provides the film's additionally creepy kicker. This story is so full of the unbelievable (yet it happened, so you do believe) and of people doing their job very poorly (unfortunately you can believe that pretty easily, too) -- whether it be immigration officials, social workers, police or even family, whose special job, one would think, is to love and protect -- that your jaw hangs open wider and wider as the movie proceeds.

Afterward, in the quiet of remembrance, I found myself wondering if the film might have been equally effective as simply a standard, just-the-facts, investigative documentary. All this re-creation and "acting" makes it much more of a hybrid than a real doc. Yet these very things also provides a high degree of drama and suspense. There is no denying how effective is Mr. Layton's telling of this tale, which is certainly among the more interesting near-documentaries of the year.

The Imposter opens today, Friday, July 13, in New York City exclu-sively at the Landmark Sunshine Cinema, where the filmmaker will appear in person tonight at the 7pm and 9:40 screenings. It begins its nationwide, limited release in 15 other cities next month. You can find all currently scheduled playdates here.