For a dose of real Christmas spirit -- and a look at Paul Walker in one of his best roles -- try to find/view Chazz Palminteri's under-seen NOEL

Such a holiday curmudgeon am I -- reviewing a Netflix series I didn't much like for Christmas Eve, and then following it the next day with a Christmas "turkey" of a movie -- that I feel I ought now suggest to you a fine, overlooked holiday film, NOEL, with a sterling cast, smart writing and good direc-tion by Chazz Palmin-teri (shown below).

Unfortunately, Netflix only has the DVD (don't know why the company doesn't stream it, at least during the holiday season), but you can also watch it now via Amazon Instant Video and maybe elsewhere.

Below is the review I posted on Netflix during the 2005 holiday season, soon after the movie made its DVDebut.


An incipient classic in the holiday movie genre, NOEL is for us urbanites who hate the holidays on the surface but secretly pine for connection, redemption and a little real joy. Suffused with sadness and longing (and occasional quirky humor: the winning-the-Xmas-tree scene), the film connects a group of disparate New Yorkers in ways that are humane, sentimental and, in one case, otherworldly. 

This sort of thing could easily become predictable and tiresome but thanks to the thoughtful screenplay by David Hubbard, tactful direction (plus a cameo) from Chaz Palminteri and fine performances from Susan Sarandon, Penelope Cruz, Alan Arkin, an uncredited Robin Williams and a spot-on ensemble cast, the movie works beautifully, leaving you up to your ears in a pile of used Kleenexes--what every good sentimental holiday movie aims for. (You can take or leave the "spirituality" angle, which is played tenderly and realistically enough to please even an agnostic reprobate like me.) 

The biggest surprise of all is the rich, wonderful performance given by Paul Walker, a "looker" who heretofore has been given little chance to act ("The Skulls," "Timeline," "Into the Blue"). As a big city, lower-middle-class cop with an attitude/jealousy problem, he sports a fine accent and an even better range of emotions--from anger and love to confusion and joy, with each moment utterly believable. I hope some of our better directors see this one and realize the possibilities possessed by Mr. Walker. Released briefly in theatres and treated like a poor relation, the movie deserved a lot better. From the tone of most other reviews here on Netflix, it will thankfully find its true standing on DVD.

Catch Noel if you can. It's one of those under-seen and under-sung independents.

For a true Xmas turkey, look no further than Ed Burns' THE FITZGERALD FAMILY CHRISTMAS

Ed Burns and Connie Britton are tremen-dously appealing actors, but they are about the only good things -- despite a cast full of other good actors -- in the atrocious and cliche-ridden "family" rom-com-dram, THE FITZGERALD FAMILY CHRISTMAS. What were they thinking? rears its questioning little head often and loudly throughout this message-laden movie about family, death, dying, guilt, retribution, sex, drugs, rock-n-roll and more. Oh, god, so much more. Each family member in this sappy, soapy saga has his/her own sad story. Together these make for major audience tribulation -- unless you are one of those lucky souls who must have your daily fix of a cliché or two (or, in this case maybe 20).

Over the years since Mr. Burns (pictured at right), who wrote and directed this film, burst upon the scene with his over-rated debut, The Brothers McMullen, he then, due to the outsized success of that one, continued mostly to repeat himself with movies that tend to glorify male caddishness, while misunderstanding women (though this did seem to be changing a bit in a film like his Purple Violets). In his latest we get themes and characters like the overbearing mother, abused girl friend, a senior citizen at the end of life, an unfaithful/absentee dad, and the great-looking guy (Mr. Burns, of course) who just can't seem to land a decent girlfriend.

That gone-for-decades dad (the recently-deceased Ed Lauter, above, left, with Michael McGlone) now wants back into the family, for reasons that will soon become apparent. Mom (Anita Gillette, the redhead shown bottom, center) says no, while their multiple offspring seem rather split in their views.

Not one of those offspring save the most fabulous one (you can guess who plays him) will even show up for mom's birthday, while the increasingly dumb behavior of one sis (Kerry Bishé, above left) and bro (Mr. McGlone) manages to hook their respective boyfriend (Noah Emmerich, above, right) and girlfriend up to each other. In fact, so much of the behavior on view is either lame-brained or super-convenient/coincidental that believability and interest soon depart.

And the happy ending you can see coming a mile away (but hope against hope will not arrive) does manage to land with its own built-in kicker: If ever a family deserved each other, it's this one. The Fitzgerald Family Christmas, that very rare holiday turkey that seems both over-cooked and under-done, can be streamed on Netflix, viewed via Amazon Instant Video or purchased on DVD.

HEMLOCK GROVE: Netflix's not-so-hot but very well-cast original series proves mostly vamping

Various dictionary definitions of "vamping" tell us that it is something patched up or refurbished, maybe rehashed, as in a book based mostly on old material. All this could easily describe HEMLOCK GROVE, the original Netflix series that you are likely to have heard the least about, what with House of Cards, Orange Is the New Black, Lilyhammer and even Arrested Develop-ment (not entirely original to Netflix) stealing most of the thunder. But the definition of vamping that most applies to this odd and derivative series is the one that comes from music: an introductory musical passage commonly consisting of a repeated succession of chords played before the start of a solo. Its purpose: to keep that solo at bay for as long as possible.

This solo, in the case of Hemlock Grove -- written/developed/executive produced by Brian McGreevy (at right, below) and directed (six of the episodes, at least) by Deran Sarafian (at left) -- is the question that anyone watching the series will be asking from the very first episode in season one (the series has already been renewed for a second season): Who's the creature that's doing the killing? To avoid answering this question, the series simply vamps. And vamps. And vamps.  There is at best maybe two hours of content (or, say, one full-length movie) to this 13-part show, each part of which takes nearly one hour to unfurl. What this means is an incredible amount of vamping. So much so, that you may very well take

to screaming "Get the fuck on with this!" any number of times during any number of episodes. Because of this vamping, some very good actors are left twirling in the wind, as it were, having to repeat their actions, if not their exact words, again and again, just to keep that solo at bay. This is especially true of Famke Janssen (below) and Dougray Scott, as, respectively, the matriarch and patriarch of branches of the family that control the titular town. (The Janssen character really has the town under her thumb; Scott is simply a sex toy/in-law.) The series has been organized and written very much in the style of soap opera, with all the neces-sary over-writing/under-acting that goes along with this tiresome genre.

TrustMovies actually stopped watching the series twice, then went back to it after a time. As with most soaps, it was quite easy to pick up again. (There is so much vamping going on that nothing much happens. Consequently, anything you've forgotten won't matter much.) Lots of characters are introduced along the way, a number of them pretty young girls who get "offed" by the beast, but two young men finally prove to be the heroes of the piece: Bill Skarsgård (below, left), who plays Janssen's creepy son, whose character broadens a bit during the 13 hours, and sensitive lunk Landon Liboiron (below, right), who plays a new-in-town, gypsy type, high school student with his own mom (Lili Taylor) in tow.

Though the Janssen side of the equation is clearly pretty weird (read supernatural), we learn fairly quickly that Liboiron's family are, uh, werewolves, and we see the special effects department in full force for one major transformation (below) early on.

There's an investigator from the Fish & Wildlife department snooping around who has some connections with a certain branch of the Catholic Church, various police officers who behave crassly or nicely as the script necessitates, and various other family members, each possessing his or her own sad story.

Oh, yes, and the family owns and operates a hospital/medical/
experimental center with another bizarre character (Joel de la Fuente) in charge, and a very secretive, big box inside of which resides... (another question viewers will want answered).

Not to worry. The nasty beast is indeed unmasked in the penultimate episode (this is not one of those keep-the-answer-out-of-reach series like The Killing), and the final show answers some more question but mostly keeps things open for season two.

As I say, there is only enough content here for a couple of hours, but if you're particularly taken with any of the performers or characters, you may give in to the ongoing blather, which certainly succeeds in keeping the series going but not in making it exciting or especially interesting.

By Episode 9, a little suspense and anticipation are engendered, and we get a funny/lovely/creepy story about a fairy -- which shows how some decent writing can suddenly bring a whole series to real, detailed life. But then it's back to the same old tired stuff, mostly family arguments. There is one pretty interesting character: A strange young girl (Freya Tingley, shown center, above) who's determined to become a writer. McGreevy, I am guessing, must have based her on himself.

We do eventually learn the name of the beast -- it's a vargulf, for anyone interested. Some of the directors here seem overly fond of handing us suspenseful moments that come to absolutely nothing. More vamping, I suppose. The pacing is often glacial, due to all the gazing into each other's faces, while pronouncing the strained dialog. There's a good deal of sex, too, but it's nothing you won't have seen elsewhere and better.

It often seems as if, in Hemlock Grove, the creators simply tossed everything they could think of into the mix, feeling sure that something would stick. Something does. But too much else stinks. The show can be streamed only on Netflix, where you can see as much or as little in one sitting as you can handle.

Michelangelo Antonioni's first narrative film, STORY OF A LOVE AFFAIR, holds up pretty well

It's an odd experience, catching up with one of Italy's master directors' first narrative film (which he made after nine documentaries, both short and full-length): STORY OF A LOVE AFFAIR (Cronaca di un amore) from Michelangelo Antonioni. This is particularly true viewing it at the end of his career, after seeing almost all of his other work. So much that would concern this filmmaker throughout his working life is already here in this 98-minute piece, which is full of the despair and disconnect that haunt so many of his movies.

What's more, this tale -- of a husband, uneasy in his new marriage to a super-attractive wife, who hires a private detective to learn of her past, consequently stirring up a nest of guilt that sets in action events that lead to betrayal -- points in almost a straight line to the marvelous new movie that just opened this week: The Past. Consciously or not, I would say that Iran's Asghar Farhadi has been greatly influenced by some of Signore Antonioni's signature concerns. The latter director, who died in 2007 (hard to believe that he's been gone so long already), seemed most taken -- at least until he became more experimental (Beyond the Clouds and Eros) toward the end of his career -- with time, place and past guilt that refuses to let go.

In this case, that guilt is shared by our protagonists, the reason for which only becomes clear as the movie unfurls. Because the film is set and was made in the very early post-World War II years (1949), one might also perceive some collective guilt concerning Italy's position during the war. Antonioni divides his time between the wealthy and the working class, showing us the boredom and petty concerns of the former against the constant struggle of the latter. Still, everyone is out for his/her best shot.

The leading roles are taken by the gorgeous and glamorous Lucia Bosé (below) and the foremost Italian hunk of that era, Massimo Girotti (Ossessione and Fabiola), above, and both are everything you'd want in a typically handsome couple of this time. The filmmaker's skill at showing how his detective ferrets out important information is sterling, and it has as much to do with building the character (or lack of it) of our leading lady, as does the work of Ms Bosé, once she finally appears on the scene.

The visuals are generally striking, both beautiful and lonely, as expected with Antonioni, with the black-and-white cinematography by Enzo Serafin something to gaze upon and relish. The spaces, the distances, the camera angles all seem in the service of pushing forward the sense of discontent and disconnect.

Where the film may disappoint to some extent comes in the shallow characterizations. (This may be the point.) These two people -- particularly the woman, Paola -- are lost before the film ever begins, and Paola's almost constant fretting, frowning, complaining and wavering between her rich hubby and would-be lover, Guido, is almost enough to turn us (not to mention poor Guido) off her completely.

If we stick around (and we do), it's mostly for those cunning visuals and for the tactile sense of waste, fear, foreboding and despair that Antonioni captures. You can take a look at this, the first major narrative movie from one of filmmaking's masters, on Netflix streaming, Amazon Instant Video, and on DVD.

Kim Ji-hoon's THE TOWER: Korea gives us a sleek, smart, modern-day "Towering Inferno"

They've done most everything else at this point, have those Koreans -- hugely successful monster movies, wartime dramas, thrillers, rom-coms, police proceedurals and more: just last week I covered one hell of a good werewolf romance -- so why not revive one of those Irwin Allen-type spectacles we haven't seen for some time? Fortunately, it's not The Swarm but one of the guy's better mainstream movies. The Towering Inferno that we're seeing here. And coming from Korea. of course, it's filled to the brim with drama ("melo" variety) laughs, tears and oodles of the most spectacular special effects. It's called simply THE TOWER, and it's yours to stream on Netflix right now.

Being a Korean movie, you'll find a lot more class consciousness -- in this tale of a pair of hi-rise towers, below and further below, beset by bad planning and even worse maintenance -- than you would have caught in any of the Allen film of decades past. How the wealthy and powerful are catered to (and finally saved well before the hoi polloi) is just part of the reason the movie will push that 1%-vs-the-99% button. As directed and co-adapted (from what, I wonder?) by Kim Ji-hoon, shown at right, the movie takes awhile to get going, as we must first meet a lot of different characters, including the buildings' workers, owner and tenants plus members of the fire brigade who will come to the rescue (or try to, at least).

There's a widowed dad and his cute little daughter, his maybe-might-be love interest (who also works at the site), a young couple (he's a sou chef, she works at reception), a cleaning lady desperately saving for her son's college education, the uber-decent chief of that fire brigade and his new recruit, the sleazy money-grubbing guy who's in charge of the buildings, and lots more.

Once the problems begin (and mount like an out-of-control wildfire), the movie takes off and afterward barely leaves us time to draw a breath. The special effect are first-rate -- from the holograph of an enchating performer, below, designed to amuse the guests...

...to the crashes, fires and explosions that keep popping up as rescue becomes less and less likely. Filmmaker Kim is particularly good with his pacing, never allowing the special effects to supersede the need for clarity of what is happending and suspense as to what this will mean.

Self-sacrifice plays a large part in the proceedings, as well, and as often happens with these new Korean films, you'll find yourself more moved by the finale than you might have expected.

Sure, this is yet another exercise in blockbuster creation via suspense, special effects and a decent enough story-line to keep us watching. But given the materials at hand, this one is handled about as skillfully as you could wish in a two-hour fingernail-biting entertainment.

Stealing from so many other, older movies -- from that Allen-produced film above to the better-than-expected Sylvester Stallone pic Daylight -- The Tower moves from placidity and Christmas-time joy to shock and awe with surprising ease and skill.

From CJ Entertainment, the movie can now be seen on Netflix streaming and Amazon Instant Video and on DVD.

Stream an enticing little 67-year-old "classic," Maurice Elvey's tough/tender BEWARE OF PITY

Adapted by a trio of screenwriters from the fairly famous novel by Stefan Zweig, and directed by a fellow whose work I had not before encountered, Maurice Elvey, who between the years of 1913 and 1957, managed to direct several films almost every single year (his IMDB directing credits total 196), BEWARE OF PITY, released in 1946, may be one of his more famous. Perhaps it did not do well at the box-office, however, because, after this one, Elvey (shown below) did not make another movie for five full years.

Featuring a stellar cast -- Lili Palmer, Cedric Hardwicke and Gladys Cooper -- with some excellent supporting work from Linden Travers and Ernest Thesiger, the movie takes the form almost entirely of a flashback, in which a older military man tells a young recruit, who is trying to disengage himself from a girl he does not love, to "beware of pity," and then explains why and what he means by this. Initially, because the story tells of  a beauti-ful young woman (Miss Palmer, below) con-fined to a wheelchair, and the callow young lieutenant who "befriends" her, we assume this will be a fairly simple, if not simplistic warning about pity leading to behavior that has bitter consequences.

But, no: The movie (as does, I expect, Zweig's novel, unread by me) has more on its mind than merely this. With the appearance of the Palmer character's kindly but stern, no-nonsense physician in one of Mr. Hardwicke's reliably fine performances (the actor is shown below, bottom), and later the entrance of the doctor's wife (a lovely turn by Miss Cooper, below, top), the story expands its definition of pity, taking it into the realm of necessary and productive empathy.

Along the way, the tale tackles other themes, from class to societal hypocrisy, the military mind and more and so never loses our interest. There is a caveat here, however, and that concerns the performances of the film's two leads. I've long been a fan of Ms Palmer, but perhaps had never seen her in anything this early in her career. In any case, she overacts rather too fiercely at times, and this, together with some genuinely unattractive parts of her character, combine to make the movie a sometimes uphill haul.

Ditto her co-star, another actor I had never noticed till now, Albert Lieven (shown above, left), who also plays a not-very-likable character in a rather cardboard manner. Together, these two fail to generate any sparks (of course, they're not really supposed to, but they sure as hell could have been more interesting to watch) and so leave it to the rest of the cast to manage that. Fortunately, the supporting players do, with Palmer's helper/companion, played by Miss Travers (above, right), far and away the most appealing of the bunch.

The film, in a fairly good transfer that streams pretty well, still manages to pack a quiet punch -- doing something from which Hollywood seems to still and forever shy away. It will leave you thoughtful and sad, but not, I think, depressed. Beware of Pity, running 102 minutes, is too intelligent for that. You can catch it now via Netflix streaming. (here's the link) or on Amazon Instant Video.

Asghar Farhadi's THE PAST proves even better than his 2011 Oscar-winning A Separation....

What a fine filmmaker is Asghar Farhadi, the Iranian fellow who two years ago gave us the Best Foreign Film Oscar winner, A Separation, and is now back with an even better movie called THE PAST. For movie-goers who appreciate thoughtful, complex films about subjects eminently worth their time, you cannot do much better than Farhadi. This filmmaker's cool but intense style, choice of crackerjack actors, and -- most important of all -- ability to translate his ideas into fine, fierce dramas about how we live now results in films that resist melodrama at every turn and so remain utterly real and so believable that you are forced inside the mind and soul of each of their main characters.

That last and very great ability of Farhadi (shown at left) is what will make you hang on every word, every expression on his actors' faces, and as the story unfolds -- quietly but suspensefully, with a continual unfurling of events and motives, together with small but vital surprises that always make sense even as they enlarge your understanding what is going on -- you will have many of your preconceptions about these people, who they are and what they are doing, challenged.  I can't begin to tell you how rewarding the experience is.

The story begins as an estranged husband (Ali Mosaffa, above, right) and wife (Bérénice Bejo, below, right, and above, left) meet at the airport, he returning to Paris from Iran, where he was originally from, to sign a set of papers agreeing to a divorce so that she can marry the man she is now in love with. Soon we meet that man (Tahar Rahim, below, left), his young son (Elyes Aguis)...

...and the two daughters of the wife (from a marriage that predates both men), the older of whom (Pauline Burlet, below) is extremely fond of her step-father and is now estranged from her mom.

All these characters come to enormously full life, and we grow to care and hope for them, as well as understand the guilt that each of them experiences. "It is far too easy to simply say you're sorry," notes the father to his young son. And indeed, apologizing is something that is done often throughout the movie. The guilt here is plentiful, though not always as fully deserved as even the guilty might imagine, and as we explore why this is so, the movie simply becomes richer and deeper.

The acting is of a very high level in which each actor does what is called for without undue embellishment. The writer/director keeps a close hand on what he allows his actors to communicate, and us to see and hear, and so the experience becomes a particularly careful one, yet not at all circumscribed. The movie keep rolling outward, right up to and including its magnificent finale.

In fact, this is a better movie than the excellent A Separation because, this time, the filmmaker doesn’t unduly withhold vital information, yet his film still proves suspenseful and fascinating throughout. And there may be no one working today who manages the complexity of motives better than Farhadi.

I hope have said enough -- without giving away any of the surprises -- to send you out to view this extraordinary work, one of the year's best -- maybe the best -- film I have seen so far. The past, as so many of our writers have told us, never disappears. Yet there is a future. The negotiation of that road from the one to the other is what fascinates Farhadi and what he brings to such immediate, compelling life.

From Sony Pictures Classics,  The Past opens today, Friday, December 20, in New York City (at Film Forum and the Lincoln Plaza Cinema) and in Los Angeles (at Laemmle's Royal) and in the weeks to come will roll out across the country. Click here to see all currently scheduled playdates, with cities and theaters.