DVDebut: Taron Lexton's IN SEARCH OF FELLINI proves (very) light on the Fellini

Can a movie get by almost exclusively on charm and visual beauty at the expense of any kind believable story line? Prior to seeing IN SEARCH OF FELLINI, the first full-length film from South  African-born Taron Lexton (below), I would have thought this pretty doubtful, but after viewing his said-to-be-based-"mostly"-on-a-true-tale movie, I've got to admit the film works well enough to garner an OK rating.  As gloriously shot by Kevin Garrison in Verona, Milan, Rome and Venice, Italy (oh, yeah -- and in Ohio, too), the cinematography is often so breathtakingly beautiful that you'll be swept away long enough to forget, or maybe just ignore, the rather saccharine and unbelievable tale told here.

As written by Nancy Cartwright and Peter Kjenaas, that story is one of a young girl (played in adulthood by the very lovely Ksenia Solo, below), so pampered and secluded from real life by her mother (Maria Bello, shown at bottom, right) that the poor thing is completely unsuited for autonomous adulthood. So what does she do? She leaves her dying mother to head for Italy all by her lonesome and there to somehow meet her new hero, famed filmmaker Federico Fellini, whose movies she has suddenly discovered via a Fellini festival in her home town. (The film takes place a couple of decades back, as Fellini died in 1993.)

Too dumb to get to Rome where the filmmaker resides, she ends up in Verona, then Venice, before finally arriving at her real destination. But that's all to the good because, along the way, she and we get to view a raft of fabulous locations and also meet and fall in love with what must be the sweetest and most handsome straight male in all of Italy (Enrico Oetiker, below, with Ms Solo).

But onward she must go toward Signore Fellini, and so she also almost gets raped-while-being-filmed by a nasty hunk named (against type) Placido. Not to worry, despite its R rating, this is a feel-good movie par excellence, so when our heroine finally does encounter her hero, it is in perhaps via the most gorgeously lit and filmed restaurant scene in movie history -- with no dialog yet, so that we can instead imagine what is being shared by the two.

Yes, indeed, this is all so silly that it would defy belief -- were it not so lovely to look at. All the leads are super-attractive, and Italy, well, come on: You know how visually enchanting that country can be. So I would suggest placing you brain on hold for the film's 103 minutes and just giving yourself over to its many visual pleasures.

Inter-cut into the film are many moments from the real Fellini catalog. And while Mr. Lexton's work apes the master's, he has filmed his movie with mostly gorgeous actors, while Fellini preferred much more bizarre-looking casts. Both filmmakers give us fantasy based on reality. The master created his films from someplace deep and humane, while Lexton, whose view may be prettier, offers up what might best be called Fellini-light.

From Spotted Cow Entertainment and running 103 minutes, the movie -- after hitting VOD and digital outlets last month -- reaches DVD this coming Tuesday, January 23.

Netflix tip: McG's THE BABYSITTER mashes genres for a funny, gory, sweet 'n nasty treat

Looking for a guilty pleasure that will really pleasure you -- in a number of ways -- if you don't mind an unusual mix of sweet-family-feel-good, blood-guts-and-gore, a very young coming-of-age tale, devil worship and murder, all wrapped in one of the most rambunctious, well-paced, pull-out-all-the-stops tales in quite some time? Then THE BABYSITTER, a new film from McG that's available now via Netflix streaming, may be just your cup of tea. The filmmaker (shown below) has had a rather spotty, up-and-down record over the years -- from Charlie's Angels to We Are Marshall, Terminator Salvation and Three Days to Kill -- but this new film is one of his most throwaway yet simultaneously his most oddly delightful ventures.

The mix-and-mash of genres here works surprisingly but wonderfully, beginning with McG's choice of leading boy: the terrific Judah Lewis, who gets a role in which he is allowed to do practically everything and does it all to a fare-thee-well. He handles fear and smarts and action and attraction and so much more with such believability and aplomb that he'll win you over in a flash and keep you with him all the way.

As written by Brian Duffield, who clearly has a good understanding of each of the genres he uses and abuses, the movie begins as a bullied young adolescent tale before morphing into a kind of Home Alone (with murdering satanists), and then into -- well, just hang on for the very wild ride.

Young Master Lewis (above, left) plays Cole, and his co-star is that gorgeous and clearly pretty talented Australian actress Samara Weaving (above, right, whom you can also see currently as the co-star of Mayhem and in the juicy little role of the ex-husband's current squeeze in Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri).

Ms Weaving begins the film as that titular movie icon: the beautiful, kind, helpful babysitter you can turn to for just about everything. And then the nastiness and gore begins. How all this goes down -- helped along marvelously by McG's and Duffield's sense of humor -- is full of both the expected and the un-, and the pacing is so on the mark that the film's energy, as well as our attention, never flag. There is always something funny or gory or ridiculous (but clever) around the next corner.

The supporting cast is quite well-chosen, too, with every role (and actor in it) a kind of stand-out of sorts. That's Andrew Bachelor under all the blood, two photos up, and Bella Thorne (above, left) and Robbie Amell (above, right). Mr. Amell, with his to-die-for torso, has the movie's best line said about him by young Cole: "Why does he have his shirt off?" Cole asks this question more than once, and while it never gets answered, it manages, in wonderfully ironic fashion, to speak volumes about everything from sex in slasher movies to the gay gaze, the male "fitness" imperative, the Adonis/ Narcissus complex, and the need to undress, come hell or high water.

The movie's second best line -- an on-the-mark humdinger -- is spoken by the cute little girl (Emily Alyn Lind, above, right) who lives across the street and to whom our Cole is attracted. That line should rightly remind males about rational thinking and making intelligent judgments despite a current individual event or disappointment.

All this melds together with such bizarre finesse that The Babysitter takes its place as one of this year's best guilty pleasures. If you're of a mind for this sort of thing, add the movie to your Netflix list now. (I don't think the film is currently available anywhere else.)

Brady Corbet's festival winner THE CHILDHOOD OF A LEADER hits theaters/VOD

Brady Corbet's an interesting actor. He has a quality that can so easily move from pretty-boy cool to creepy-guy strange. Contrast his work as the title character in Simon Killer with his supporting turn as the intelligent young film director in Clouds of Sils Maria. Now Corbet has made his first full-length film as director/co-writer (with Mona Fastvold), and it's every bit as oddball as you might expect from this young fellow. As its title proclaims, it tracks some formative time in the life of its titular character.

Corbet (the filmmaker is shown at right) has divided his film into "tantrums" that our child -- a pretty little boy whom we meet in the time between World Wars I and II -- throws whenever things do not go his way. One might think that a kid like this, given the time period (post-WWI) & place (Europe) would be knocked across the room during tantrum one, and that would end that.

But no. The mom and dad here (Liam Cunningham, at left, and Bérénice Bejo, below) are models of poor parenting in extremis. They are either missing in action or take no intelligent steps to help either their son (a bizarre and unsettling performance from newcomer Tom Sweet) or the situation. So, yes, bad parenting can lead to fascist tendencies. Unless of course the child in question is simply a bad seed -- and our little angel looks like one of the worst. In any case, there's plenty of blame to go around here,

including that of the nanny (that gem, Yolande Moreau, underused in this role), who coddles our little boy; and the kid's "teacher" (Stacy Martin, shown below, with young Master Sweet), one of whose duties would appear to be servicing the father, too. This little group also includes friend-of-the-family and political somebody named Charles (Robert Pattinson) who seems a bit too fond of mother.

What a group! But so what? Mr. Corbet seems to know his history of that time between the wars, and his scenes of powerful men working their power hold both interest and truth. His scenes involving the family, however -- though shot in color-drained hues and exhibiting fairly little dialog -- grow less and less involving and more and more repetitive as the film moves along. Surely there must be more?

And yes, there is. It comes with the finale, as we move a decade or more ahead in time to find the Pattinson character now somewhat enthroned and our child maybe serving him. And suddenly the movie which has been shot in quiet, subdued, stately fashion seems to explode, camera-wise, with the visuals going gaga, perhaps mirroring the craziness of this new era. (The costumes and sets are suddenly very neo-fascist drab-but-commanding.)

The music is pretty enthralling throughout (Scott Walker composed it), the cinematography (by the fine Lol Crawley) is worthwhile and fun to view, and the performances are as good as Corbet allows (he seems to want to keep everything at a very low simmer).

But what the film has to say about fascism and its origins is so thuddingly obvious and is never explored beyond the cursory that the film fails on its most important level. My spouse called it pretentious. I would not berate it thus, but simply say it does not work -- except in the most general and obvious of ways. Next time, and I am sure there will be one, please tell us something we don't already know.

The Childhood of a Leader, from IFC Films and running a very long 116 minutes, opens this Friday, July 22, in New York City at the IFC Center and next Friday, July 29, in Los Angeles at Laemmle's Monica Film Center. A further rollout in limited release is promised. Simultaneously with its theatrical opening, the film will appear nationwide via VOD.