Gay, under-age and semi-closeted in Brazil: Alexandre Moratto's moving debut, SOCRATES

In the very first scene of SOCRATES, the fine, full-length debut from Brazilian-American filmmaker, Alexandre Moratto, our hero, the eponymously named Socrates, is suddenly orphaned. Or so we think. Once we meet his abusive -- physically and religious-wise -- father, later in the film, we realize that orphaned would have been better by far. Moratto (shown below) plunges us immediately and thoroughly into the fraught world of this young man, and though it isn't pleasant, movie-wise at least, it sure is interesting, as well as believable.

As the fifteen-year-old he is, finding work simply to eat and pay rent on the apartment in which he and his mom lived proves a near-constant task, but it is one that Socrates seems more than up to. If only the society around him would help a little. He's a smart, game kid who tries just about everything, quickly pulling us over to his side and keeping us there, despite his occasionally being too hot-headed for his own good.

Moratto never has his movie, nor his hero, beg for sympathy. He doesn't need to, for this is built into the situation and the character. And while the society around Socrates might want to help, times are bad enough already, not to mention the law about hiring minors for work.

Our hero (beautifully played  by Christian Malheiros, above, right, and below) turns to friends, relatives -- close and more distant -- possible employers, a little would-be whoring, and a sudden love-and-sex interest (Tales Ordakji, above, left) first seen in the workplace as an antagonist, who soon becomes a helpmeet. Of a sort, at least.

Along the way, we get good glimpses of the Brazilian workplace, of the country's less-than-impressive housing, and its beachfront playtime, as Socrates keeps trying and trying. Moratto, however, makes certain that his filmmaking is never trying. At only 71 minutes, Socrates moves continuously along at a quick, smart clip.

By the time we and our hero end up at a new seashore with a special task ahead, we've been treated to an impressive little movie that offers as kind and honest a look as possible, TrustMovies believes, at what under-age gay youth must contend with in an increasingly precarious world.

From Breaking Glass Pictures, Socrates opens this Friday, April 9, in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Music Hall 3, and the following Friday, August 16, in New York City at the Cinema Village -- after which it will arrive on DVD via and on VOD two weeks from today, Tuesday, August 20.

Keith Boynton's SEVEN LOVERS tackles "woman" -- from several angles (and genres)

An interesting idea -- tracking a woman through what looks like her relationships with different men at different times, with each shown as its own distinct movie "genre" -- is given a fairly interesting execution in the 2014 film, SEVEN LOVERS, written and directed by Keith Boynton and finally receiving a belated release digitally. The genres include everything from a seemingly standard light-rom-com to a European art film that's dialog-free; a full-out, old-fashioned black-and-white musical; a comedy of missed opportunity, and even an animated film.

This is a clever idea of Mr. Boynton (the filmmaker is shown at left), and for awhile, at least, he carries it off with some elegance and charm. His leading actors are Erin Darke (as the woman, Laura) and Fran Kranz as the man who seems, among her various lovers, to possess the most possibilities. Ms Darke, shown above and below, is better in some scenes/genres than others. She pushes a bit hard at times and lacks the more genuine, off-the-cuff bubble that actresses like Meg Ryan or Diane Keaton had at the height of their careers. Still, Ms Darke, who comes off at her most attractive in the musical mode, at least fills the bill and is sometimes even better than that.

Leading man Kranz (below), on the other hand, is (as almost always) quietly, delightfully spectacular. Possessing a handsome face and a great body, along with a nice range of acting ability, Kranz combines the goofy and the sexy to near-perfect effect. Why this young actor has not hit the big-time is a mystery to me. The usual answer, I guess: Luck coupled to the choice of roles at hand, along with the lack of a blockbuster to put him on the movie map. In any case, he could hardly be better -- more attractive and full of life, zing and chemistry -- than he is here.

A number of other good actors plays supporting roles, as the satellites that revolve around Laura -- among them, Max von Essen as a musical Mr. Right (below) and Peter Mark Kendall as a friendly Brit in the missed-connection scenario.

Gia Crovatin (below, left) plays Laura's best friend, a woman who's a little bit too over-the-top for comfort. It is in her character, and especially in that of Laura's herself, where the movie falls the most flat. It's odd that, in a film in which a female is given the major role -- and one taking in several genres, too -- that it is this character that feels the most empty. Laura is needy, ditsy and confused. And that's about all. Seven Lovers proves much heavier on situation and genre than on depth of character.

For all we see of our Laura, she never really expands, and everything we learn about her seems awfully surface, if not second-hand. When, at one point her character announces, "Well, that's me," I felt like asking, "But just what is that." This is not Darke's fault -- she does what she can with these role(s) -- but more the filmmaker's.

Boynton's juggling genres is handled effectively, with the animated sequences (as above) -- involving a princess, a knight in shining armor, and a dragon -- simple but cleverly done. Eventually, though, the overall pacing seems a good deal slower than necessary (the movie could lose ten minutes with no problem at all), given the quantity and quality of its content. Still, this idea of combining/splitting a movie into genres is unusual enough to merit a look. And eventually a more productive execution of that idea.

From Premiere Digital Services and running 108 minutes, Seven Lovers is currently available to rent or buy on the following digital platforms: Amazon, iTunes, Microsoft, VUDU Vubiquity, Dish and Google. 

Death & Grief & Getting-On: Oyelowo & Wiest grace Maris Curran's FIVE NIGHTS IN MAINE

What a fine actor is David Oyelowo! If you've never seen The Paperboy, do -- if only for Oyelowo's great work (there are plenty more reasons to see this eye-popping film, as well). The actor gets another chance to shine in the new mini-movie, FIVE NIGHTS IN MAINE, in which he stars, along with Dianne Wiest, as, respectively, the husband and mother of a recently deceased young woman. Oyelowo was also great in last year's HBO movie Nightingale, even if the film itself was somewhat lacking. And of course he was good as MLK in last year's Selma, too.

Now that he's reached star status, we'll hope to see Oyelowo (above and below) gravitate to smaller movies with larger roles, each of which he'll fill out in fine form. So it is here, in this new film written and directed by Maris Curran (shown at right). This is Curran's second film but the first to get a theatrical release. It is a very small movie made up of quiet, individual scenes that work together to (almost) form a story: Suffering from grief, the widower treks from New York City to Maine to visit for the first time that mother -- difficult, demanding and estranged from her daughter, even prior to the young woman's untimely death.

That's it. And while Ms Curran neatly avoids anything close to melodrama, she also, unfortunately, avoids most of the drama we might expect here, even though her cast -- which includes a very subdued Rosie Perez (below) in the role of the housekeeper/helper (mom has terminal cancer, you see) -- does a terrific job, moment to moment, throughout this 82-minute movie.

The acting here could hardly be bettered, and the writing is OK, too: the dialog sounds believable and genuine, if occasionally a little too prosaic. Though we're gifted with a few scenes of anger and hurt that keep the drama flowing, and though we come to know, interestingly enough, quite a bit more about the late wife, who seems key to the happiness of both hubby and mom, we learn very little about either of the two remaining characters. We want more of them than we get, and this is where the drama falters. Or, rather, goes missing.

The talented Ms Wiest, above and below, seems to have lost some weight since I've last seen her, so I hope she is fit and healthy. Here, she pulls from her arsenal of anger, pain and loss rather than from the humorous, scattered, flibbertigibbet array she sometimes uses. Either way, she gets the job done beautifully.

Five Nights in Maine is fine, so far as it goes. But many audiences, I fear (TrustMovies among them) will wish it had gone further. The movie -- from FilmRise -- opens this Friday, August 5, in a dozen cities throughout the country. In New York City, it plays the Village East Cinema; in Los Angeles, you can see it at Laemmle's Music Hall. Click here then scroll down to see all currently scheduled playdates,cities and theaters. (Come September, the movie will even hit Maine!.)

Pablo D'Stair's back with a new brain-teaser/ twister, DOCTOR LAWYER INDIAN CHIEF

Pablo D'Stair has returned. Yes: That mystery man (is the photo below even him? I can't be absolutely sure) whose movie, A Public Ransom, we covered a few months back has made a new film -- DOCTOR LAWYER INDIAN CHIEF -- that we agreed to watch and that, like his earlier movie, drove us right up the fucking wall.

Now, a few days after viewing it, I'm still remembering it and sort of brooding over it but wondering why. Really, it's not very good (I'll explain the reasons I feel this way, below). And yet...

What happens in the film -- betrayal, jealousy, murder, or maybe none of the above -- ought to be major. But the would-be realistic but actually tiresomely unbelievable dialog, the hugely repetitive filmic style (a stationery camera that is periodically moved to capture different angles), and especially the characters, who seem to have but a nodding acquaintance with any kind of reality and/or sensible interaction with the other folk we see in the film -- all of this makes the movie utterly minor and very difficult to sit through.

Has Mr. D'Stair somehow hypnotized me into giving him and his movie more credit than they deserve? Ought I to just give up this whole "reviewing" thing and disappear into the night? Hmmm... Enough brooding. What you can expect if and when you sit down to watch this film -- which can be streamed on Vimeo for free, I believe (I did, and didn't even have to use he password I was given) -- is a tale of a middle-aged schlub of a man (Carlyle Edwards from A Public Ransom) who tells his wife (or maybe she's just a girlfriend) that he has been accosted by a fellow at his work who has told him that he was married to her at one time.

"Don't know anything about this," the woman claims, and we're off on a binge of lies and infidelity and all kinds of bizarre stuff -- all communicated to us via conversations between Mr. Edwards and the rest of the cast. As either written or improvised (maybe a combo), these scenes, which are always led by Edwards' brand of stop-and-start awkwardness and inability to say something straight out via a speech pattern that is singular, to say the least, could drive one to distraction.

Whether this is all the actor is able to manage or it is what the filmmaker wants, I haven't a clue. Perhaps it is a combination of both. In any case, due to Edwards' huffing and puffing and his inability to move the dialog along speedily, the purpose here would seem to be to give us scenes that, in the real world, might add up to all of 15 minutes, but here must be stretched out to an hour's length. This is not fun; instead it acts as a kind of filmic torture.

I wonder what D'Stair imagines that he is giving us. It is certainly not art, but neither is it "life" as anyone in my world, at least, would recognize it. At one point in the proceedings, one person says to another. "You're right. It doesn't matter." And this could stand for the whole shebang.  It is difficult to know what matters in the world of Pablo D'Stair.

And yet. (God, I have all these "and yets"...) The cinematography (by Paul Vanbrocklin, who also did A Public Ransom) is often exquisite in its grainy, weirdly-lighted way. These two movies do not look like anyone else's. Oh, yes -- and everybody smokes.

The two leading supporting actors -- Helen Bonaparte and Goodloe Byron, both from A Public Ransom -- are not bad. And the minor supporting players are OK, too. But everything takes too long to unfold -- including the title card that reads "Three Weeks Later" and which seems to stay on-screen for approximately that length of time. Really, Pablo: These are three short words. How long do you imagine it will take us to read them? (Again, this adds to my suspicions that D'Stair is simply trying to lengthen his movie by adding excess time to everything.)

Yet, in his way, D'Stair does tackle relationships and honesty, betrayal and retribution. By asking him to be a more conventional filmmaker, might I be castrating his creativity. Don't know. But he's working on a third film now. We shall see. (If, that is, we can stand all the repetition and attenuation. But maybe the guy will alter his style a bit.)

Oh, yes -- and the end-title song, Don't Fuck With Love, proves pretty damn catchy. You can view Doctor Lawyer Indian Chief now by clicking on  this Vimeo Link. Good luck!

Marc Evans is back -- with HUNKY DORY, a dreamy, delicious, Tempest-tossed musical

Remember Marc Evans? TrustMovies does because Evans, a Welsh filmmaker, is one of his favorites.  (Yes, he does seem to have a lot of those, but, gheesh! -- there's so much barely-recognized talent out there whose work ought to be better known.) Evans is the fellow who, back in 2002, gave us My Little Eye, still one of the most terrifying, ugly and oddly subtle and surprising horror movies ever made. In 2006 appeared Snowcake, a beau-tifully cast and acted drama that reached for and actually grasped a bit of profundity with humor and sadness. Now comes yet another movie, as different from those earlier examples as you might think possible. HUNKY DORY is a kind of genre-mash of nostalgia, high-school, coming-of-age, musical and Shakespeare's The Tempest.

What makes the movie most special is the way in which Mr Evans, shown at left, and screenwriter Laurence Coriat have woven their story into an impressionistic set of scenes that quickly capture us and then slowly build into something so delectable and special and yes, odd, that we're never quite certain what the whole thing is. And yet we love it. And we're lost in it. This is especially true of how the filmmakers and cast manage the "musical numbers," which are not quite like anything I've seen in any other film. Sometimes made from extremely brief snippets, other times lengthy and melodious, the songs -- well-known works by major, popular musicians are sung and played by the cast itself -- weave in and out of the story and are all part of the musical presentation of The Tempest that a free-wheeling instructor (well-played by Minnie Driver) is overseeing.

God knows, The Tempest seems to lend itself well to so many different kinds of movies (and movie-makers), and here it works about as well as I have seen (other than when the play is simply done as itself). Among its themes are those of growth, freedom and autonomy, which fit the high school/coming-of-age milieu like a glove, especially where Caliban is concerned, played here by the least likely type of high-school student you might imagine (foreground, below).

Among the quite large cast of characters are the kids, their families, teachers and administrators, so we get everything from family problems to bullying to love stories, both gay and straight (in which the object of desire is likely not to return that longed-for affection).

Ms Driver, above, is the biggest "name" in a generally un-starry cast, though Aneurin Barnard (below and lately seen in Citadel) further impresses here (and a lovely voice he's got, too!). Every actor, in fact, seems well-chosen and performs quite up-to-snuff.

A special word should also be said for Robert Pugh, below, who is excellent as the school's stern headmaster, who must suddenly double in the role of Prospero. Mr. Pugh does a lovely job all-round.

Though we may imagine, as the film rolls along, that we are watching mere narrative done with unusual class and creativity, at the end, just prior to the credit roll, we are told what happened to many of the folk we've been watching. This comes as both a shock and a sweet pleasure, for what has seemed a kind of joyous school-time fantasy suddenly takes on added reality and heft.

Impressionistic, beautiful, graceful, funny and moving, the movie is sort of sui generis. Too unusual for mainstream, too dreamy for the masses, how the hell it works so well remains something of a mystery. But I doubt we shall see its like again. (I hope we'll see and hear more from Mr. Evans, though, and soon.)

Hunky Dory, from Variance Films and running 109 minutes, opens this Friday, March 22, in a limited theatrical run here in New York City at the AMC Loews Village VII and in Los Angeles at the Laemmle Music Hall 3, as well as in several other major cities.  To see all currently scheduled scheduled playdates, cities and theaters, click here, then scroll down.

A small movie miracle opens: Ari Taub's LAST LETTERS FROM MONTE ROSA -- plus a short Q&A with the filmmaker

Could there be, at this late date, anything left to say about World War II, specifically about the Germans, Italians and Americans who fought in the mountains of northern Italy as the war came to a close? On the basis of two new films -- The Man Who Will Come, which recently won Italy's Best Picture award and premiered during the recent FSLC's Open Roads, and now a small, independent American movie, LAST LETTERS FROM MONTE ROSA directed by Ari Taub (shown just below) and co-written by Nick Day and Caio Ribeiro (who doubled as cinematographer) -- there's plenty left to say.  And, boy, it this worth hearing (and seeing). Regarding Mr. Taub's new film, I believe that Sam Fuller would approve mightily.

Last Letters from Monte Rosa begins with the explanation that a long-buried mailbag of letters written by Italians and Germans toward the end of WWII was discovered.  (More about this satchel in the Q&A that follows.) Instead of the documentary we might expect from this beginning, we're thrust into narrative mode, in the north of Italy, jostling amongst a German platoon of soldiers that awaits the arrival of its Italian counterpart. In the surrounding forest are the Italian partisans, as well as a few Americans, one of whom visits a heavy-set Italian sleazebag who appears to be a some sort of crime boss, complete with his own set of goons, to finalize the sale of some cases of expensive black-market French wine.

It's an incendiary situation, what with the American military further encroaching on Italian turf, and the German and Italian soldiers at each other's throats.  Their respective commanders fare a bit better, however. Class will out, I guess.  The first thing you may notice is the terrifically real "look" of the film: From the costumes to the various equipment that the soldiers must use, from the men's faces to their anything-but-buff bodies, everything seems remarkably "as it was."  

The stories that Taub and his writer show us are small but telling, with moment after moment written and acted with quiet beauty and strength.  Best of all, I think, is that, by the end of this film, you'll have trouble finding any villains. Collectively, of course, you can pin the tail on the German donkey, or on the Il Duce's military.  But individually, even with plenty of bad behavior across the boards, the humanity of each of these men shines through -- and in no sappy manner. Taub, his writers and his actors, make you mourn the death of the individual Germans, even as you detest their cause.  As for the Italians, the difference between the partisans and those who "fought for their country" has seldom seemed less important, even as you know that it was, of course, all-important.

Last Letters is full of wonderful incident: that black-market wine deal (shown below); a conversation (above) between the Italian commander and his right-hand man in which the former wonders if Hitler is right: Are the Germans a superior people?   Then there's a deer that manages to first divide the soldiers -- German from Italian -- before bringing them together, and another scene of a German instructing the Italians on how to plant a land mine.  Best of all, perhaps, is an extremely suspenseful few moments between the Italian partisans and the Italian military.

Taub, who has built his way up to this film via earlier ones -- shorts and full-length -- shows surprising skill as a moviemaker.  He draws excellent performances from his cast members, recruited from Ger-
many & Italy who came to America to film (upstate New York, Mas-
sachusetts and Pennsylvania all stand in for Northern Italy).  Even the director's use of slow-motion is judicious; he manages to make that old cliché death seem somehow new -- and horribly unfair.

Taub's work is such a small movie, but it's one that deserves some real acclaim.  The director never bites off more than he can chew, yet he challenges us just the same.  Last Letters from Monte Rosa opens this Friday for a week's run at New York's newest home for independent cinema in Brooklyn: IndieScreen. You can find dates and screening time here.

**********

Once TrustMovies had seen the film, he turned to the press kit for further information. What a gold mine it proved, making him even more impressed with Mr. Taub, his writers and his cast of wonderful actors, who have given up so much to be able to make this fine film.

First of all, the movie was shot almost entirely here in the U.S., with the actors imported from Europe.  The verisimilitude is certainly achieved.  Performances are terrific, right down the line.  Indoor photography was shot on sets created in studios in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, hence the entirely appropriate venue in which the film is opening.  Most bizarre, I guess, is the fact that here is a piece of American independent cinema that is actually a low-budget WWII combat drama.

We catch director Ari Taub for a 30-minute phone call during which he fills us in with answers to a few on extra questions that the press kit did not address. In the following TrustMovies' question are in boldface, white Taub's answers are in standard type.

Were there actually that batch of letters mentioned at the beginning of the film? Can you give us some background on that?

Yes. everybody always wants to know about those letters! The satchel of letters does exist. Letters were recovered in Northern Italy maybe 10-14 years ago. A lot of them were rotted and only bits and pieces could be read. We only read a fragment from one letter --

Was that the letter from the German commander to his wife that we hear at the end?

Yes: the one that was read at the end. To prepare for this film, we read that fragment and also Last Letters from Stalingrad, a wonderful book written by soldiers who perished during the Battle of Stalingrad in Russia.  And so, from a single fragment, rather like one bone from a dinosaur, we created the whole piece.

According to the IMDB, you've made other films: shorts and full-length, and a number of these were war films.

Yes, I have made a number war films. Some of my war films, in fact, are earlier versions of this movie. The Fallen tells the story from the American viewpoint. This one is my favorite, though, because it seems unique. I really worked hard to get inside the hearts and minds of how men would act during this time.

After this initial week's run at IndieScreen, where might your film go?

We hope elsewhere around the country, of course, but we don’t have a big war chest for getting the movie out there.

What was the total cost of making  this film, start to finish?

The cost all told was $350,000, includsive of everything.  Our production budget was $210,000 and then of course there was post production.

And how long, total, did it take to film?

It took seven years to complete this movies.

Wow.

It's unbelievable, the amount of time and life that went into this work. Mostly because we did not have the money. There was a time that we couldn't even continue shooting for two years because we had no money.

Your cast really is wonderful.  So real.  Did they all come from abroad?

No: the guy who played the local gangster (Rossini, shown below), sort of the small town bully, he is a friend of mine (Carmine Raspaolo) who lives right here in Brooklyn. He had wanted to play one of the soldiers, but I had to tell him he just weighed too much. But we could -- and did -- cast him as that gangster.

How old are you now, Ari?

I’m 44 years old.

Is there anything else you'd like to say, since I have you for this quick interview?

Maybe I should say why I originally wanted to even make this movie.

Yes, good idea.

I wanted to tell a story that involved the cooperation between German and Italian men during WWII because I found these people to be so different from each other. I could not imagine how they could get along. And when I researched, I found copious amounts of material that corroborated the fact that they did not get along.

And yet, you make it so they do try to get along.

Yes. Some of my best friends are both German and Italian. So I don’t want people to think that I don't like either group!

Nobody's gonna think that.  Your movie is too full of understanding and appreciation for humanity -- of whatever country or group.