Noah Baumbach's WHILE WE'RE YOUNG: Brooklyn's hipsters and oldsters mix it up

The generation gap looms over Noah Baumbach's new film, WHILE WE'RE YOUNG, and this provides an opportunity for quite a few laughs, as well as the chance to look at attitudes -- moral and otherwise -- that would seem to reflect those generations. But, as usual in the work of Mr. Baumbach, there is even more going on. The surface is shiny and bright, underneath is not so, and all of it is intelli-gent and entertaining. His latest film is also his most completely successful since Greenberg and/or The Squid and the Whale. Even if this writer /director's hand is still a tad too heavy at times.

Mr. Baumbach, pictured at right, is generally considered, pace Armond White, to be one of the brightest of our intellectual filmmakers, and so it is again. His film offers a lot of what they used to call "sparkling dialog," even if -- in this case, the sparkle is a little different -- rough and naughty -- from what it might have sounded like when that phrase was first born.

The story here is of  two couples -- one in its 40s, the other in its 20s -- and how they meet and become close in present-day Brooklyn. Their connection is the documentary format: the older man is a filmmaker; the younger one wants to be. The wives (or "significant other" for the younger) are, as is so often the case, more accessories than anything else.

Within this set-up and follow-through, we learn a lot about who these people really are and why. We also explore documentary filmmaking (the older wife's dad is a leading exponent of this form -- think Wiseman or the late Mr. Maysles -- and he is played quietly and magnificently by Charles Grodin (above, right).

The older couple are brought fine life by Naomi Watts (above, right) and Ben Stiller (above and further above, left), both of whom shine in their roles -- she by once again demonstrating that there is little she cannot do regarding character change as an actress, while still looking as lovely and appealing as ever; he by using his gift for uncertainty, repressed anger and a kind of all-over sorrow that combine into something quite funny.

The younger couple is played by the ubiquitous and versatile Adam Driver (above, left) and a somewhat wasted Amanda Seyfried (above, right: either the filmmaker did not warm to the actress, or he simply didn't know how best to create an interesting character for her). Though the elder couple has its own share of "entitlement" going, it is definitely the younger pair that brings this idea to new -- and ironically low -- heights.

Rather than spoil the one terrific plot twist, TrustMovies will just say that this "event" opens up the film to all sorts of interesting ideas on the documentary form: what it means, how it works and what it should do or not do. And especially what, where and how "truth" figures into things. It also allows for one of those dearly loved last-minute arrival scenes favored by filmmakers of the thriller and rom-com varieties, of which While We're Young is neither, though it steals from both now and again. I just wish that, in driving home his points about what constitutes truth and good filmmaking, he'd held back a bit more with the sledge-hammer.

While also tackling the idea of "forced parenting" (below) and fear-of-nepotism, Baumbach has a couple of endings to his film, too. I'd prefer that he'd used only the first of these -- which has a magnificent "last line" and would have been near-perfect.  Instead, he continues past this and into the more feel-good realm, supplying us with another joke or two, visual and verbal, which are, I must admit, fun. As is most of this movie.

The film -- from A24 and running 97 smart minutes -- opens this Friday, March 27, in New York City at the AMC Loews Lincoln Square 13, and the Regal Union Square Stadium 14 and in the Los Angeles area at The Landmark and the Arclight Hollywood.

Kornél Mundruczó's amazing, troubling WHITE GOD: like no canine movie you'll have ever seen

Old Yeller was never like this. Kornél Mundruczó's Hungarian masterpiece, WHITE GOD, (Fehér isten) will leave you in some kind of state -- grace, shock, awe, or maybe just amazed at the proficiency of this filmmaker, the only other work of whose I've seen is the odd, and oddly memorable, Delta from 2008. I believe it is safe to say that there has never been a "dog movie" anything like this one -- which within (or, hell, without, too) its genre, also becomes a revenge thriller, an allegory about "the other," ode to "dumb" animals, sci-fi/fantasy epic and more. It jumps so many genres so thoroughly that it simply becomes sui generis.
And then some.

Directed and co-written (with Viktória Petrányi and Kata Wéber) by Mr. Mundruczó (shown at right), the film begins with a scene of marvel -- and one that does not look particularly CGI-ed. I can't claim to be any expert on special effects, but when they look as real, as genuine and "special" as they do here, attention must be paid.

The film then flashes backward to a previous time, in which its story carefully unfolds, before eventually catching up with itself. We've seen this done many times before. What we have not seen is all this taking place in what can best be called a "dog movie."

That dog -- a character called Hagen (he is actually played by two dogs - one of whom is shown at left, sporting a bowtie at Cannes, where he was evidently the toast of the festival) -- is a keeper. You'll fall in love with him instantly, but be warned: What happens to Hagen is not easy to bear. Dog lovers won't want to miss this movie, but they may have a damned difficult time getting through it.

Hagen is the beloved pet of a high school girl named Lili (talented and beautiful newcomer Zsófia Psotta), about to spend three months with her estranged father due to her mom's having to go abroad for work. Dad is not much of a caretaker, and he most definitely does not like dogs. Trouble ahead.

The movie will make you wonder if Hungary, the country from which it comes, is particularly anti-canine. Or if perhaps this goes with the territory of most of Eastern Europe. From what we see here, much of the populace couldn't care less about the creatures -- who are, evidently, not considered the Eastern European man's best friend -- unless he can make a killing off them, in the process perhaps killing the animal itself.

A large section of this film deals with what happens when Hagen comes into contact with a man who trains dog for fighting. This is by far the most difficult portion to watch, and yet it is also one of the film's strongest, calling into question the old nature/nurture theory once again.

Parenting is another major theme, as is coming-of-age, and to its credit, Mundruczó's movie doesn't shy away from the difficulties here, either. What make it work so well is how all these themes -- including that of the unwanted, the "other" -- are so thoroughly fused that you finally cannot (nor would want to) separate them.

Music and its uses are paramount, as well, bringing to mind again those "charms to soothe the savage breast." The finale -- fierce, rich, suspenseful, emotional -- is both monumental and mysterious. I suspect this is a scene you will never forget.

White God (even that title is loaded and mysterious), one of the finest films Magnolia Pictures has yet released, recently screened as part of the New Directors/New Films series, opens theatrically this Friday, March 27, across Canada and in New York City at the IFC Center and the Lincoln Plaza Cinema. The Friday following it hits six more cities, including Los Angeles (at the Landmark NuArt) and then makes its way across the country in the weeks and months to follow. You can see all currently scheduled playdates, with cities and theaters, by clicking here.

Eytan Fox's Israeli mainstream musical treat, CUPCAKES, hits the USA. Prepare to smile.

Something new and decidedly delightful from Eytan Fox -- the Israeli moviemaker who has given us Yossi & Jagger, Walk on Water, The Bubble and more -- CUPCAKES is a musical comedy about a lot of things, authenticity chief among them. Is Mr. Fox's movie itself authentic? I think so, for it does not pretend to be any deeper than a sweet, mainstream-accessible tale of music, song, love and work amongst an ensemble of a half-dozen lead characters and their friends, lovers and co-workers.

The movie succeeds quite beautifully in engaging our interest and then making good on its promise of enjoyment and fun. And Fox, shown above, has created a bouncy, colorful, array of characters and scenes that build inexorably (though not necessarily predictably) toward a terrific feel-good finale of music, romance, and yes, authenticity.

The story proceeds smartly and economically from the introduction, one by one, of all the characters, shown at their work -- school-teaching, baking (those titular cupcakes), lawyering, writing, singing, and assisting one of the country's leading political ministers. Very quickly, important events occur, as our baker (Anat, above) -- an older woman with a younger husband who suddenly splits -- spills out her grief to her friends.

On the spot our singer/songwriter comes up with a sweet and simple little ditty that the others join in creating and singing, in order to cheer up their sad companion. Very soon a song is born. This song is authentic, and so are the feelings that engendered it, but what happens to the song as it becomes better known is anything but. This situation makes up the meat of the movie (or maybe, considering our baker and her wares, I ought to say the batter of the film).

Culture, mores, "professionalism" -- along with the meat grinder through which everything musical must be processed these days -- rear their heads and create havoc for our simple little song, as well as for and to the various love stories, straight and gay, that engage our characters.

Filmed in Israel, and then -- surprise! -- in Paris, where we and our cast meet the ineffably French actor, comic and filmmaker Edouard Baer, who gives this already buoyant movie an extra lift, Cupcakes proves as sweet and sugary as can be. But we're talking authentic sugar -- none of that synthetic shit!

The cast could hardly be bettered: They're all attractive, energetic performers who nail their characters quickly and then allow us to go with them wherever they decide to travel. From left to right, above, are shown Dana Ivgy (lately of Zero Motivation), Yael Bar-Zohar, Anat Waxman, Keren Berger, Ofer Shechter and Efrat Dor.

In the fine supporting cast are stalwarts such as Lior Ashkenazi (above, left, with Ms Bar-Zohar), and Sarit Vino-Elad as that peripatetic minister.

Lasting but 92 minutes, the movie is as bright, funny, charming and economical as you could wish. And, yes, you'll get to hear that wonderful song again, this time done right. Best of all is the filmmaker's nod, at the finale, to that fine French film The Baker's Wife. Here, however -- hooray for feminism -- you might better call it The Baker's Husband.

Cupcakes, via Strand Releasing, opens this Friday, March 27, in New York City at the Quad Cinema, and the following week in Los Angeles on April 3 at Laemmle's Music Hall 3.

WELCOME TO NEW YORK: Abel Ferrara's puddle-deep look at the Dominique Strauss-Kahn affair

Dem mighty jus' keep on fallin'! From Gary Hart to Sheldon Silver -- and, oh, so many in between -- the supposedly powerful figures of the western world discover their own feet of clay, as the rest of us rejoice as much in their fall as we appeared to do in their rise. Certainly one of the more interesting of these figures is Frenchman Dominique Strauss-Kahn, the fellow who was appar-ently being groomed as the next leader of France, scheduled by the French "left" to take over after Sarkozy's upcoming ouster. Well, that didn't happen.

Why it didn't happen has been much conjectured upon, with very interesting and not so unlikely theories ranging from a set-up job by the opposing party (or maybe someone within Strauss-Kahn's own, or even the good 'ol USA) to the fellow's rather obvious proclivity for sodden misbehavior. In his new movie WELCOME TO NEW YORK, filmmaker Abel Ferrara (shown at right), while giving a nod here and there to economics, politics and social unrest, is really most interested in the "sex addiction" theory associated with our famous Frenchman, along with its accom-panying guilt and shame. Given Ferrara's oeuvre and obsessions, this is not surprising. What is, however, is how much of a major shrug his movie turns out to be.

Starring two well-chosen, senior-citizen movie-stars of talent and acclaim -- Gérard Depardieu (above, right, and below) as Strauss-Kahn (here called by the name of Deveraux) and Jacqueline Bisset (above, left) as his wife -- the film takes on immediate interest, if only for its smart casting. Beyond this, however, while not unwatchable, Welcome to New York grows tiresome well before it concludes.

As director, Ferrara, knows his way around camera-work and pacing, but as co-screenwriter (with Christ Zois, who often works with the director), he is never on particularly secure ground. Much of the dialog, though well delivered via its actors, sounds barely a cut above improvisation -- or the kind of expected blend of research and cliché that never probes deeper than surface level.

Further, Ferrara has decided not to stick all that closely to even what we know about the case itself. The film opens with Depardieu (as himself) explaining to the press something about how he tackles this role, and there is the usual disclaimer assuring us that, while the movie takes off from the famous case, what we're going to see is mostly made-up drama.

Consequently, the made-up maid supposedly attacked by Strauss-Kahn, looks little like the attractive and sexy real woman in the case. Nothing is made of anything politically, either (a shame, really, because there is enough juicy and oddball occurrences in this story to have made a nifty little paranoid thriller), and only a small bone is tossed to the idea of the entitled vs the underlings (above).

So what we are left with, mostly, is sex and more sex, after which, our boy having been caught out, we get the residual guilt and shame. All this has its interest for awhile until longueurs set in, and the little detail we get about the Strauss-Kahn marriage barely suffices.

Ms Bisset proves a strong presence against M. Depardieu's bulk and talent, and I must admit that it was a welcome change to see this actor having to portray, as above and below, a broken man for a change. His time under arrest, in jail, and being harassed by the press goes a distance in helping us sympathize with the guy -- which Ferrara clearly wants us to do.

Entitlement, money, power and the accompanying sex-and-more-sex to which these lead, followed of course by debasement  -- this is what interests the filmmaker most. And while all this is surely part of the Strauss-Kahn scandal, there's so much more here that his movie doesn't begin to approach.  If half a loaf is enough, by all means, crack off a chunk and chew awhile. It's initially tasty but not very nourishing.

Welcome to New York -- from Sundance Selects/IFC Films and running a too-long, two-hours-and-five-minutes -- opens this Friday, March 27, at San Francisco's Roxie Theater. Simultaneously, you'll also be able to see the film via VOD in most major markets. A further, if limited, theatrical rollout is expected over the weeks to come. Or not (See below).

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Addendum: Now that is has come to the fore that filmmaker Ferrara is very displeased with re-cut version released by the distributor, perhaps the above review is not indicative of the "real" movie. Though from what I could gather from the report in The New York Times, Ferrara's reasons given do not sound, to my mind, as if they would make the movie much better. Read the Times story here, then make your own judgment. In any case, I found it very odd that IFC was suddenly not opening the film theatrically in either NYC or L.A. Now we know why.

Oren Jacoby's MY ITALIAN SECRET: Here's a Holocaust doc that'll leave you feeling... good

Everything is relative, of course. But the most surprising result of viewing MY ITALIAN SECRET, the new documentary from Oren Jacoby, about certain citizens of Italy helping to protect Jews during World War II, is how positive it will leave you regarding Italy's contribution to this hugely fraught, usually shameful, and now forever to be memorialized period of human history. This is a film that might actually leave you feeling, well, good. Amongst Holocaust documen-taries, even the best of them, this is a rarity.

Mr. Jacoby, shown at left and who has given us a number of docu-mentaries, including Constantine's Sword, brings together a wealth of archival footage, interviews with the friends and/or relatives remaining alive, and a few evidently necessary re-enactments, which fortunately don't detract much. The narration comes via Isabella Rossel-lini, whose rich voice is a pleasure to hear, as is Robert Loggia who lends his to that of famed bicycling champion, Gino Bartali (below).

One of the major ironies present throughout the film is our knowledge that Italy, along with Germany/Austria and Japan, was one of the aggressors fought by the Allies during WWII. And yet its treatment of its Jewish population, in most ways and until the Germans took over much of the country, was exemplary by the standards of the rest of Europe. Was this due to the "character" of the Italian people, if that word can be made to stand for an entire population (and I think it cannot). Still, the behavior of much of the Italian populace seems exemplary next to that of most of the other countries involved, conquering or conquered. And while not every tale told here necessarily stands in for all of Italian behavior, the stories & their participants add up.

These include everything from creating a fictitious but highly contagious disease possessed by occupants of a certain hospital ward so that Jews and/or partisans (below) could be hidden there to disguising the girls and women as nuns and hiding them in local convents.

One of the sweetest, most affecting stories comes from the man, now grown and old, who, after being taken into the Church and posing as a Catholic child, recalls a nun who obviously understood the importance of religious freedom and so who told him not to repeat the official Christian religious prayers during the ceremony but to quietly mouth his own Jewish prayer replacements.

There are so many unique and special stories to be found here that these alone make the film worthwhile. But we also get some history lessons, as well -- including how, in the fall of 1943, Italy was divided into north and south, with Germany ruling the north and America and Britain the south, which made getting urgent information from south to north vital. This turns out to be where bicyclist Bartali could be of great use.

We also meet a 102-year-old man who tells us how, as a child, he saw his mother, father and grandfather for the last time. We also learn the Italian word sfotto, which seem to translate into something like "gallows humor," of which there was plenty in wartime Italy.

As these still-living Holocaust survivors meet again and offer thanks to their protectors and saviors, it will prove difficult not to be moved by learning what human beings are capable of, even under enormous threat and stress. Against all odds, My Italian Secret proves a joyous experience.

The movie -- distributed by The Film Sales Company, and running 92 minutes -- opens this coming Friday, March 27, in Los Angeles (at Laemmle's Noho7) and New York City (at the Cinema Village).

Wine now -- and forever: Jonathan Nossiter's full-length MONDOVINO debuts via Icarus Films

If you saw and fell in love with Mondovino, the 135-minute documentary movie from 2004 that tackled the question of whether or not "fine wines" were becoming "mass produced" around the world as one of the earlier products of globalization, here is some very good news. We knew, even at the time of the docu-mentary film's release, that this movie was a cut-down version of the more than nine hours made by Jonathan Nossiter (Sunday, Signs and Wonders) for French TV that really got into things. But would we ever be able to see the entire series? At last, more than a decade later and thanks to KimStim and Icarus Films, we can.

The newly released (in the USA) MONDOVINO: The Series lasts 550 minutes on four DVD discs, and there' s not one of those minutes I'd want to give up. I remember thinking at the the time that I watched the shorter movie version that I wished it could go on much longer. Now we can bask in all that was left out from that two-hour and fifteen minute film. It's a lot -- not so much that any of the many personages that dot the film were totally left out, but now, we come back to them again and again, as Nossiter (shown at right) pieces together everything that was happening to wine production, marketing and sales during this time period.

Here is a brief overview of the ten chapters, the first of which, Where's Asterix?, peaks our interest immediately with the question of why no one in a small French town wants to talk about The Mondavi Affair and what, exactly, happened here and why. Nossiter begins to probe, and we meet some of the wine folk who will appear again and again throughout, including one especially reptilian fellow (to my mind, at least) named Michel Rolland (shown above).

With Chapter 2: Magic Potion we spend some more time with Burgundian wine maker Hubert de Montille and his family (above), and as we hear him and his speak about their life and work, suddenly many of those formerly silly-sounding adjectives describing wine begin to make sense. We also see some of the elitism of the wine owners and growers vis a vis the students who are hired as grape pickers.

Chapter 3: Rome Wasn't Built in a Day whisks us off to Napa Valley, California, where expressions such as synergy and feng shui are bandied about. The wealthy wine folk here come across as generally shallow, image-conscious, entitled hypocrites. (Above are shown two members of the Mondavi family.) Simply hearing what the local liquor store owners have to say about these people pretty much seals the deal. Mr Nossiter never bulldozes; he simply asks questions and allows his interviewee's answers to become the noose that effectively hangs them.

We move from the French Pyrenees to Sardinia in Chapter 4: Pax Panoramix, and meet a Brooklyn-based wine importer Neal Rosenthal and learn about young wines versus the old, with some very interesting and apt comparisons between wine production and plastic surgery. There's even a bit about Nazi collaboration during WWII.

We meet famed (or infamous, depending on your "take") wine critic Robert Parker (above) in Chapter 5: The Appian Way, and also learn about a then-relatively-new mode of production called "garage wines." You may note along the way the occasional look at the household pets or local birds. Nossiter has an eye for all sorts of fun moments and odd objects.

We also begin to hear more and often, especially in Chapter 6: Quo Vademus, the word terroir, and we begin to understand the great important of this. As the Wine Spectator editors explains, "Terroirs go against the business of globalization." We also see more of wine critic Robert Parker, hear the love story of the De Montilles, and discover some delightful stuff about one of our favorite actresses, Charlotte Rampling.

Chapter 7: All Road Lead to Rome tackles wine fraud and the psychology of the wine lover. We hear the prattle of the so-called "industry" wine-makers, especially the head of one company who has decreed that a certain inscription, in Latin yet, be written on every employee's tie or jacket, even though he has not bothered to learn what those actual Latin words are. Mr. Parker's arrogance and egotism are also on fuller display. "It's the Hollywoodization of wine," as distributor Neal Rosenthal insists.

We're back in Italy for Chapter 8: Crossing the Rubicon, in which Wine Spectator's then-editor, a Mr. Suckling, says it all in his description of the terroir problem: "They just weren't making wine that people wanted -- except for the locals." The locals, of course, has been producing and drinking wine for decades, even centuries. But what the hell do they know? Mr. Nossiter never stoops to stating the obvious (as I just did), but with a tad's worth of extrapolation, you'll get there, too. We see the children and the dogs again, as the kids do their homework (school is closed, interestingly enough, due to wide-spread, anti-globalization protests).

Around this time, you will begin to wonder if the filmmaker managed to get any footage in which these royal families of wine -- including especially the Mondavis of California -- were not spouting lies and PR platitudes. They treat us and Nossiter as though we were dumb children who must be educated. In Chapter 9: Et tu Brute? we learn about the Antinori and Frescobaldi families and their links to the Mondavis. They deserve each other. In a small but classy Italian wine shop, the husband of the owner explains that all these wines taste the same; they have no identity at all. And we meet the gorgeous Ferragamo family, about whom, "They're too pretty," a member of the Frescobaldi family opines.

We travel to Argentina, for the series' closing chapter, Veni, Vidi, Vendidi, in which a long-time family winery sells its product -- as well as the family name -- to, yes, Michel Rolland, shown above, left. (The  time spent in the car with M. Rolland's driver -- above, right -- may make you wish that Nossiter had gotten the guy alone for some good inside gossip.) And so another country sees its wine co-opted, mass-produced and rolled out with, gosh, a flavor very much like that of the rest of the "best wines" in the "civilized" world. That Argentine family -- pompous, entitled, classist and racist -- could stand in for just about all of the rest of the new wine aristocracy. Finally, we visit, Paraguay, which, in the words of one fellow, is the land of the fake. But at least it is able to admit this.

When this series ends -- all too abruptly -- you'll simply want more. I wish Mr. Nossiter could do it all again, and bring us up to date on what has happened in the 12-15 years since he began his amazing work. Although, from the looks of our world today, the result would depress us even more. And yet Mondovino, The Series, is so consistently vital and so much fun for anyone with a fondness for wine that as depressing as it is, it is also utterly absorbing and absolutely fascinating. And it's available now in a four-disc set, for sale by its distributor, as well as by the usual suspects.