AFA hosts funny/nifty ONE-EYED AUTEURS series w/ de Toth, Ford, Lang, Ray & Walsh

OK: it's a silly idea. Packaging the product of directors who wore eye-patches? While the very word auteur is enough to send some people into apoplexy (Ms Kael, any-
one?), it has become so second-nature to most of us at this point that, well, why not add the question of "vision impair-
ment" to the theory put forth by Andrew Sarris? (I hope Mr. Sarris can attend -- or at least report on -- this program.)

The redoubtable Anthology Film Archives is certainly having some fun this summer (it's currently in the midst of a William Lustig presents: The Seventies -- Buried Treasure series), and the sultry August dog days are perfect for these kind of low-end/high-style, sleazeball/
intellectual treats. Below is a part of the AFA press release on One-Eyed Auteurs, and it's too much fun not to share:

This summer, Anthology draws attention to a mysterious phenomenon that we feel has been neglected by film- and conspiracy-theorists alike – the remarkable proliferation in Hollywood’s heyday of one-eyed auteurs. As any statistician can tell you, two or even three active one-eyed masters might just constitute a coincidence – but five? We think not. But five there were in the middle decades of the 20th century. And not just any five, but several of the period’s towering masters: Fritz Lang, John Ford, Nicholas Ray, Raoul Walsh, and André de Toth (the last, famously, the great practitioner of 3-D cinema!). [Editor's note: de Toth is shown above, right, and that's a still, below, from his 1947 film Ramrod, which is part of this AFA program] Though the circumstances surrounding their loss of depth perception vary (only Ray could lay claim to losing his sight in the line of duty, during the decade-long production of his final completed film, the student-collaboration WE CAN’T GO HOME AGAIN), this mysteriously shared affliction suggests the existence of some sort of cabal or secret society. While refraining from further speculation, Anthology nevertheless offers up a pair of films from each of these filmmakers, a tribute to a period in Hollywood history when eye-patches were de rigeur.

You can find the complete AFA program here. Although I have seen most of these films as a kid, I don't trust my memory or perception enough to talk about them now. So I'll concentrate on the three I've seen as an adult, starting with the twisty and surprisingly good semi-noir from de Toth, PITFALL (1948), which pairs to good effect Dick Powell with one of the great, glamorous movie voices of all time, Lizabeth Scott, shown below. (Her face and body weren't bad, either, but -- oh -- that smoky sound she could make!).

Also in the cast are Jane Wyatt, Raymond Burr and John Litel. In some ways, Pitfall is no noir -- the characters are a little too wishy-washy, with no real femme fatale, for instance. But the film's look at post-war American life and its discontents -- confor- mity among them -- remains relevant and is its real point of interest. Less for plot than for background, the movie still fascinates.

Fritz Lang's two films in this series could hardly be more different: One predates even me, while the other is a film I ought to have seen a child (since a child has one of the lead roles) but somehow missed. With the recent DVD release of Lang's crackerjack Nazis-in-London thriller Man Hunt, this director is on our minds again (is he ever far away?), so the chance to see two of his lesser known works on the big screen (one of them in CinemaScope!) is enticing. Both prove worthwhile in different ways, with the older film the more interesting of the two.

YOU AND ME (1938, with music and songs by Kurt Weill!) is one of the oddest movies I've seen to come out to Hollywood factory in the 30s. It supposedly flopped upon release, no surprise, but it's simply unmissable for any die-hard film buff. From the musical number that begins the film -- a kind of paean to paying for your life, it resembles a number from one of those Soviet musicals with tractors and such, yet it's pure Capitalism filtered through a seemingly socialist sieve -- the movie then introduces us to a thriving department store in which, it seems, half the employees are ex-cons being given their second chance via the store's kindly owner. Yup, that's Capitalism! Then we meet the characters played by George Raft and Sylvia Sidney, who are in love with each other and hope to marry, except that -- and from there the plot unfurls, or maybe unravels.

This is such a funny, sad, strange little movie. Lang and his group were clearly trying something new, and if their film does not entirely (or even mostly) work, there is so much that is charming about the endeavor that you'll probably end up cherishing it despite its flaws. In the large cast, you'll spot Barton MacLane, Harry Carey and a very young Robert Cummings, among others. Ms. Sydney, of course, is her usual wonderful, but it's Mr. Raft who surprises. Rather than giving us what I remember from his later career as a gangster/villain, he's quite warm, vulnerable and genuinely charming. Who knew?

MOONFLEET (1955), on the other hand, must have been work-for-hire for Uncle Fritz. Adapted from the novel by J. Meade Falkner, it bears the typically telescoped "adaptation" style, complete with rather randomly selected events. The plot, set some 250 years ago, is serviceable enough: young orphan boy (nicely played by Jon Whiteley, above left) makes his way to a rather desolate town in England, with a letter from his now dead mother that places him in the hands of a "care-giver," the stalwart Stewart Granger (above right), who heads a band of smugglers. What distinguishes the film for me is its gloomier-than-usual setting, short length (87 minutes) and an absolutely paltry use of its female characters -- shockingly so, given the actresses on view: Joan Greenwood (shown left in the photo at bottom), Viveca Lindfors (below, left) and Liliane Montevecchi (below, center)! It's not as though Lang didn't understand how to use women or how to garner some great performances from them (consider his work with Joan Bennett). Almost everything about this movie seems done on the cheap, and so just misses -- even though there are still a few lovely moments here and there, along with suspense and thrills.

The relationship between the boy and his "protector" plays out in an interesting manner, culminating in a finale that is as subtle as it is moving. And the supporting cast, including George Sanders (shown below, center, in lavender attire) Melville Cooper and Jack Elam, is a good one. From what I can gather from the schedule, Anthology is showing each film twice only (except those of Nic Ray, which will be shown thrice), so pay attention and get to the ones you really want to see.

Photo of André de Toth by Justin Kahn,
© & couretsy of WireImage.com
Photo of Lizabeth Scott, circa 1953 - courtesy mptvimages.com
Color stills above are all from Moonfleet.

Ephron's JULIE/JULIA: Streep & Tucci are great but don't discount Adams & Messina

A mainstream entertainment for adults (as opposed to, say, G.I. Joe, which also opened in theaters yesterday), JULIE & JULIA offers an amazement of acting talent, starting with the much-heralded performance of Meryl Streep as Julia Child. Ms. Streep has now added so many fine feathers to her acting cap that she appears far and away the best and most versatile actress that has ever appeared on what we used to call the silver

screen. Since she's only 6o, she may yet have ten, twenty, even thirty years left to collect more plumage.

If Streep (shown below, right) were all that J&J offered, this would be more than enough to make the movie worth a watch. There's plenty else. Co-writer/director Nora Ephron (shown, right) has whipped up a credibly entertaining soufflé based on the stories of Julia Child and Julie Powell, women separated by decades but joined by the love of food. In addition to providing a decent screenplay, what Ephron and her casting directors Kathy Driscoll and Francine Maisler have done is to round up some of the best acting talent in the business -- including a number of wonderful New York theater actors -- to fill nearly each and every role with class and charisma. This is more than stunt casting, as these people know how to a nail character on the spot and take it, even in the briefest few moments given them, wherever it needs to go. Linda Emond, Remak Ramsay, Helen Carey, Stephan Bogardus, Deborah Rush, George Bartenieff, Frances Sternhagen, Jeff Brooks, the list goes on and on (Ms Emond and Ms Carey are particularly delightful as the two French friends of Child who come up with the initial cookbook idea.)

If Ms Ephron will never win an award for her direction (she was once nominated for Worst Director), she comes through with enough intelligence, flair and connect-the-dots savvy to provide humor and an interesting comparison of food-obsessed lives lived a half-century apart. And as good as is Ms Streep (and Stanley Tucci, above, left, who plays her husband Paul), I'm a little surprised at the critical response to the modern pair of lovers. Both Amy Adams (and Chris Messina, who plays her mate) are smart, attractive and talented performers who do just fine here. At this point Ms Adams (below, left) -- Junebug, Enchanted, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day -- needs no introduction, but Mr. Messina (below, right) might. Splitting his time between TV and film, he's given knockout performances in movies as different as Humboldt County and Ira & Abby (if you haven't yet seen these, do!), and here, against Ms Adams' pert charm and sometimes flailing skepticism, he provides just the right blend of easy confidence and non-pushy intelligence to ground the younger pair.

Don't expect wonders from the movie, just a reasonably good time. Though, amidst the school-boy dreck being served up by Hollywood this summer, it is certainly easy to over-praise and over-rate the film. As you may have gathered by the media blitz of late, Julie & Julia, via Sony Pictures, is playing all over town, in just about every town, now -- or very soon.

(Above and below photos are from the film itself,
except that of Ms Ephron, which is courtesy of and © WireImage.)

Star-spotting for seniors: Immediately behind us at the early evening showing yesterday on Manhattan's upper east side sat another great actress, Patricia Neal, for whom TrustMovies was pleased to move over one seat so that the lady could view the film. (Should I ever park my 6'8" frame in front of you at a movie, please accept this as my ongoing apology.) During the showing, Ms Neal's wonderfully raucous, basso laughter could be heard repeatedly; post-screening, she pronounced herself very pleased with the film.

BLISS, a primer on Turkish "honor" killing, begins its theatrical run in NYC

It's startling how similar is the image and idea of the opening moments of the new Turkish film BLISS (Mutluluk) to the image that sets the tone and plot in motion from last year's award-winning Italian film The Girl by the Lake (now available On-Demand via IFC). Both show a young woman's body at a lakeside. Though, in the Ital-
ian version, the body is nude and dead, in the Turkish rendition, she's alive and clothed, though it soon becomes apparent that it would be better for everyone concerned (except the girl herself) were she dead. The young woman, you see, has been raped, and in this mountain village where tradition trumps intelligence and humanity, she is now expected to kill herself for the "honor" of her family.

Bliss, supposedly the most acclaimed Turkish film of the past decade (in its homeland, I suspect: on the international festival circuit, I believe the films of Nuri Bilge Ceylan have attained a somewhat higher ranking), is indeed a wrenching experience for at least some of its running time. As the first movie to tackle this theme of "honor" killing, it does a service in bringing to light -- not just internationally but on its home front, too -- the fact that this stupid, horrific and misogynistic practice is still going on.

As to the merits of the film itself, there are plenty, even if, as it heads into the home stretch, things become a bit too easy and programmatic. (The movie is a melodrama, albeit a good example of this genre.) The build-up, however, is splendid, and the performances do the film full justice. Beginning as what looks like a mystery, then morphing into a lunatic "revenge" thriller and from there into a kind of road movie on a boat, what holds Bliss together is its consistent tone. Rather than offering us anything pulse-pounding, co-writer/director Abdullah Oguz (from a novel by Zülfü Livaneli) tends more toward the quiet, thoughtful and restrained. The performances of his three leads adhere to this plan, as well.

As Meryem, the young woman at the center of the storm, Özgü Namal (shown in the photos above) is quite good. It helps that she appears so beautiful and vulnerable; her reactions to life when she leaves the mountain village seem both enchanting and believable. As the cousin, Cemal, assigned to "take care" of the girl, Murat Han (shown below) is remarkable in this, his film debut. Playing a young man just out of the military who has returned to his village, the actor manages to make his struggle against barbarism palpable and moving, never more so than when he must somehow learn to trust. As the outsider who befriends the pair, Talat Bulut (above, left) brings the right combination of wisdom and easy charm to his role (This is the role Topol would have taken, were the film made a few decades ago -- out of Hollywood.)

As I say, the movie's finale seems a bit too easy, though it is certainly something viewers, as well as the main characters, have been longing for. Aside from the absolutely gorgeous scenery (which should bring a lot tourists to Turkey), what may remain with you, and rightly so, is the shocking sense of women seen as little better than chattel in the country's remote areas. The movie's real theme is change -- and how to accommodate it -- reflected in the tribulations of all three leading characters, but especially in face, body and soul of Cemal, the ex-soldier. Doing the right thing has rarely seemed so difficult. Or rewarding.

Bliss -- distributed by First Run Features -- opens Friday, August 7, in New York City at the Cinema Village, with openings in various cities scheduled throughout the rest of the summer and fall. Additional playdates around the country can be found here.

World Premiere: WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH KANSAS? Q&A with Joe Winston

The question “What’s the matter with Kansas?” should immediately bring to mind Thomas Frank’s best-seller on the subject. That’s good, since the documentary film of the same name – which gets its official, public world-premiere tomorrow, courtesy of The Film Society of Lincoln Center, as part of its Independents Night series at the Walter Reade Theater – is based on Mr. Frank’s book. I have read only selections from this book, which uses our great state of Kansas to make clear how the Republican Party, in tandem with the evangelical Christian movement, has boondoggled Americans into believing that it today represents the common man. I'll let Mr. Frank's sterling words speak for themselves in the three paragraphs below:

The strategy by which they have won this triumph is instantly familiar and yet so bizarre it’s sometimes hard to believe it’s actually happened: Think of Richard Nixon extolling the virtues of the “silent majority,” or Ronald Reagan shaking his head at those crazy college professors, or George W. Bush sticking up for the “regular Americans,” or the army of pundits who have written so eloquently in recent months about the humble folk of the “red states.”

And then think of the political changes that this sappy stuff has helped to sell: Privatization. Deregulation. Monopolies in every industry from banking to radio to meatpacking. The destruction of the welfare state. The beatdown of the labor movement. The transformation of the Midwest into the rust belt. And, shimmering in the heavens above all this, the rise of a new plutocracy, a class of overlords so taken with their own magnificence that they are moved to compare themselves to the Almighty.

What we are observing, then, is a populist movement that has done irreversible harm to the material interests of the common people it professes to love so tenderly -- a form of class animosity that rages against a shadowy “elite” while enthroning a new aristocracy of bankers, brokers, and corporate thieves.

How, in god's name, has all this happened? That's what Mr. Frank's book and now this movie, directed and edited by Joe Winston (shown at top, left) and produced by Laura Cohen (shown top, right), help make clear. The filmmakers accomplish this by offering us -- up close and personal, in some detail, and with the blessing of the people themselves -- how certain Kansans think, feel, believe and behave.

Here comes Angel Dillard, a gung-ho-for-god mom and churchgoer with a lovely famly, a beautiful voice and a backstory that pulls the rug right out from under your preconceptions; M.T. Liggett, an artist from Mullinville, KS, and a crusty, speak-out kind of guy who, I believe, has been seen in at least one other documentary (though not at the length he is shown here: That's he above, right, during the actual filming); Donn Teske (shown below), president of the Farmer's Union, a former Republican who turned independent due to the arrogance of the Bush administration; the Pastor Terry Fox (together with his flock), who manages to use the most bizarrely inappropriate (or maybe it's quite appropriate) "snake" metaphor to describe his church; Brittany Barden, a young girl from an Evangelical family who makes her quiet way toward admission to the country's premier religious school, Patrick Henry college; and many other Kansans of both right and left leaning views.

Because Mr. Winston uses no narration nor commentary, we only hear what the characters on view have to tell us. This is plenty, and we can draw our own conclusions. Filmed over several years, the movie takes us up to and just after the 2006 elections, at which point the leftward swing begins to be felt. Although the film spends more time with its Republican, Evangelical participants, we do get to hear and see some of the state's populist champions, one of whom explains that our country's radical/populist tradition began in the Midwest states. In the 1912 election, Kansas actually went for socialist Eugene Debs, and some of the work of Margaret Sanger was first published here. Who knew? Not this particular "lefty."

Although the movie ends after the 2006 Republican congressional routing, there is no feeling of relief or sense of closure in store. We spend our last minutes with Brittany Barden (shown above, center) at her college, where the fight for Christian control of the USA continues apace. With, as usual, blithe disregard of our country's founders' insistence on separation of Church and State, the good pastor explains, "The only hope for America is for the righteous to get involved in politics." And if the "righteous" happen to be wrong? Yet there's not a shred of doubt in the mind of any of the evangelicals we see here. This alone should scare the pants off intelligent viewers -- at least those who do not imagine themselves to be the recipients of god's word.

************

TrustMovies heard from Joe Winston via phone just after the latter had landed here in New York City, and since the director had a few free moments to chat, that's what we did.

TrustMovies: What is Thomas Frank's feeling about your finished film?

Joe Winston: Tom has been with us the whole way. We knew Tom a little bit because we were all in Chicago, at least when he wrote the book. Then he moved to D.C. We optioned the book from him, and he gave us all his contacts, and we have now spoken to pretty much everybody that he spoke to. We still had to do our own research, though, and the main characters in the movie we found on our own.

The FSLC calls this the "world premier" of your movie. This is really the first time it's been seen? And will it have a further life here in NYC and elsewhere?

This is the only NYC screening we have lined up. And, in a sense, it is a world premier because all earlier screenings have been works-in-progress. This is the first public screening of the finished film -- which will also play in Chicago for one week, September 18-24.

My next question may have more to do with me and my hugely anti-religious feeling than with the film itself, but I was left at the end of the movie with a real pit in my stomach due to the final things we see and hear at the Christian University.

Well, our movie captures a snapshot of a moment in time when the the coalition of the American Evangelical movement and the Republican Party was beginning to come apart at the seams. We wanted to remind audiences that these people are not going away, just because they have lost a couple of elections.

I can understand why the people who were in your film could then watch the film and believe that you were on their side. Because you simply let them speak and say what they want to.

We told everyone that we were interested in them. In what they thought -- and why. And we were. We assured them we would not use any voice-overs nor commentary nor any extra narration. And so every spoken word in the movie comes out of the mouth of one of its characters.

I was also surprised at some of the things I leaned from the film: the state's liberal/progressive history.

In fact, the Midwest is the seat of some the nation earliest progessive movement.

Do have a distributor lined up for your film at this point?

We are in talks with several distributors now, which is one reason we're here in NYC. But, you know, the new wave of independent filmmakers is no longer that dependent on outside distribution. If we need or want to, we can self-distribute.

What's your film background prior to this documentary?

I have edited a lot of documentary TV shows. And I also directed and edited The Burning Man Festival movie.

You asked earlier what Tom Frank thought about this movie, so if you want to hear and learn more you can do it most easily via this site at YouTube.

Editor's note: Since the movie is receiving, at this point, only a one-day screening for the public (plus that upcoming week in Chicago), I'd advise you to view it while seats are still open. Check here for availability.

(All photos are from the film itself,
except that of Winston & Cohen, at top, which is by Jim Newberry.)

COLD SOULS: Giamatti does Vanya in Barthes' comedy of (acting) manners

Simply for the chance to see the wonderful Paul Giamatti essay Uncle Vanya from three different perspectives -- that of a typical actor trying his best, as a soulless (literally) performer, and finally possessed of the much-vaunted "Russian" soul -- TrustMovies is recommending Sophie Barthes' new mistaken-identity (soul variety) comedy COLD SOULS. Even if you are not a Chekhov aficionado, there is plenty more

to seduce you in this writer/director's don't-show-us-the-expected bit of smart, sci-fi fluff.

Made, I suspect, on a very small budget, Ms. Barthes' movie is economical is more ways than one. Her concept -- Mr. Giamatti (shown in each of these photos below and on the poster, above), who is playing an actor named Paul Giamatti (which is not, I think, quite the same thing as playing "oneself"), has his attention called to a recent article in The New Yorker (inspired bit of satire, that!) about a company that removes and stores your soul. Why, exactly, anyone would want this procedure done to himself is a question that comes up and is quickly shoved aside, as is the equally unbelievable premise of Lynn Shelton's current Humpday. Both films ask us to suspend our disbelief in order to put ourselves in the shoes of their protagonists and, afterward, have a amusing time watching these guys come to terms with their decision.

Ms Barthes (shown behind the camera, two photos above) rarely raises her film-making voice; things proceed in a dry, relatively evenhanded manner, and the humor bubbles up in odd places, almost in spite of itself. Naturally (or so it seemed to me), the Russian mob is involved in the black market for these souls-on-ice, and so many of the cast members -- Giamatti, the very lovely Dina Korzun (shown below, at right, who plays the Russian "mule" who carries these illegally-trafficked souls), David Strathairn (shown at left in the photo above, who is the doctor in charge of the project) and Lauren Ambrose (relatively wasted here as Strathairn's assistant) -- must involve themselves, too. Also on hand are Emily Watson as Giamatti's wife and Katheryn Winnick (as a gorgeous and hugely untalented Russian actress married to a Mafia boss) who covets the soul of a particular American actor. (Just who this actor is becomes one of the film's finer jokes; another is that Mr. Giamatti's soul bears a remarkable resemblance to a chick pea.)

The very subject that Ms Barthes has chosen -- the soul, that unknowable, perhaps non-existent, breath of life that renders us different from artificial intelligence -- is an odd one. And if the filmmaker only partially does it justice, I was more than happy to sit and watch and wonder at what she has made of it and its place in the life of that weakest, wildest of artists -- the actor. Her finale, in particular, plays with perception and identity in interesting ways. If you're looking for something different, intelligent and humorous, I don't think you'll go wrong with Cold Souls.

The movie open Friday, August 7, in New York at the Lincoln Plaza Cinemas and the Landmark Sunshine Cinema and in the Los Angeles area at The Landmark and
Arclight, Sherman Oaks; at the Playhouse 7 in Pasadena; and the Westpark in Irvine. A limited, nationwide roll-out will follow, as will, one expects, an eventual DVD release.

Glenn McQuaid's I SELL THE DEAD: a charmer -- and a fine re-animation

Charm would probably not be the first adjective to come to mind in describing a movie about body-
snatching the dead (and, some-
times, the undead) in Victorian Eng-
land. But there it is. Charming: That describes, about as well as any single word TrustMovies can think of, the feeling that ebbs, first moment to last, from Glenn McQuaid's new

film I SELL THE DEAD. Talk about re-inventing and re-animating the horror flick: This movie does it very nearly via subtle style alone.

McQuaid's brand of charm is pretty quirky, I'll give you that. (He begins with one of his lead characters going to the guillotine -- and, no, there's nary a last-minute rep-
rieve). Yet as writer, director and editor (that's he, above, in front of the guillotine), McQuaid -- and his cleverly chosen cast -- bring this unusual movie to life without ever for a moment "pushing" the charm factor. It seems but a natural part of these bizarre yet utterly typical (think Hammer Horror goes deadpan) proceedings.

Once that guillotine has parted its participant, the movie introduces us to the other "hero," played with innocent relish by Dominic Monaghan (above, right, of Lord of the LOST Rings fame), who's about to meet that famous French-inspired blade himself, and then to one very beefy priest, played by Ron Perlman (shown at bottom), who wants to obtain the Monaghan character's story before the lad meets his maker. From there, the movie flashes back, giving us the entire tale in dribs and drabs that are both enticing and funny but never pushy. Along the way, we're treated to the occasional comic-book-type-visual that connects a scene or makes a point via artwork rather than special effects (this is completely in keeping with the charm factor and, of course, reduces the budget by probably fifty per cent).

Events are both typical and a bit surprising along the way and are -- in either case -- handled with flair and delight. The cast, which includes Angus Scrimm as a dirty doctor (remember Don Coscarelli's Phantasm? Well, Mr. Scrimm seems not to have aged a single day since then) and Brenda Cooney as a good-time gal with a tad too much avarice in her heart. Oh -- and there's also the fine and funny Larry Fessenden, who produced the film as well as acted the other lead role of Monaghan's "mentor." Everyone is on the same page here in terms of wit and style, including the various undead (and one surprise corpse who turns out to be a bit more contemporary), making possible the continuous flow of charm, thrills and the red stuff.

I Sell the Dead opens its theatrical run this Friday in NYC at the Quad Cinema (not, as I earlier reported, at the IFC Center), and on August 14 in Los Angeles. The film begins showing On-Demand next Wednesday, August 12. Check your local TV reception provider, under IFC On-Demand, for specifics.

GHOSTED: Another failed lesbian movie? Yes and no.

No -- not a lesbian who has failed. But another movie about/made by lesbians that doesn't rise above the level of time-waster. Or does it? I'm of two minds about GHOSTED, the new film from Monika Treut (pictured below, in shades). This is the first of her films I've seen, though, according to the IMDB, it's already her 16th. Ghosted, which opened theatrically in New York City this past Friday, is definitely a ghost story, but it's also a thriller, love story, mystery, character study, and culture-clash/east-meets-west/spiritual-growth number -- though not a particularly good example of any of those genres.

The movie meanders, telling its story in rather obvous fashion with some clunky exposition and ends so loose, you're not sure to what they're actually attached. Yet, if you stick it out, you may find yourself moved by the finale -- I was, and this surprised me -- which brings us, and the film's main character, full circle. The story -- once you get past the would-be mystery and killing -- is actually rather sweet. There are some lovely shots of Asia (the countryside of Taiwan, I am guessing) and some gloomy ones of Germany (the two locations the movies travels between). And the cast is attractive and relatively strong, particularly the two young and quite beautiful Asian actresses Huan-Ru Ke (pictured center on the poster above) and Ting-Ting Hu (shown right), and the somewhat horsey-looking Inga Busch (shown at left on the poster) who, in the lead role, grows on you, albeit slowly.

I think I must have been expecting more art and less clunk, particularly from a film distributed by First Run Features, which has so many wonderful movies in its roster. I would have imagined this one to have come from the Wolfe Releasing stable, but instead Wolfe is giving us a terrific film like The New Twenty, while First Run is perhaps pandering to a certain audience. Still, that audience is likely to enjoy -- and forgive.

Ghosted is currently playing at NYC's Quad Cinemas and elsewhere -- and will no doubt appear on DVD before too long.

DVD: In THE NEW TWENTY, Chris Mason Johnson views college chums ten years on

When Chris Mason Johnson's first film, THE NEW TWENTY made its theatrical debut (in a very limited run) earlier this year, after playing several festivals and picking up awards in the process, it was greeted with better-than-faint-praise by the few critics who re-
viewed it. Now that it's out on DVD, it should easily find a larger audience -- and not just from the type of 30-
something crowd the movie covers (and very well) but from any audience on the look-
out for smart new work.

The New Twenty is a very smart film. Johnson -- who directed and co-wrote (with Ishmael Chawla) and won best first-time director at the Fort Lauderdale International Film Fest -- makes so many right choices and hits a symphony of right notes. He offers up his characters and story in swift, sharp strokes that define with subtlety and nuance. Here is a movie in which you consistently feel you understand all the characters -- and more important (and unusual) -- that they actually understand each other, if not themselves. It's surprisingly rare these days to find yourself watching a film in which you feel that the characters know and care for each other in a major way.

Beginning with a scene in college, as the group is photographed, the ensemble -- a young woman, her brother, her boyfriend and two of their best friends -- quickly ages a decade, and we find them all struggling with their career and love life (what else is there at age 30?). Every performer nails his/her role, including the fine supporting cast. Nicole Bilderback (shown above, left), who won outstanding actress in a featured role at last year's L.A. Outfest, has the central role of the one woman in the group and she's terrific. Smart and attractive in equal proportions, she holds the troupe together. Her now fiance, played by a slim and hunky Ryan Locke (shirtless, on the poster, top) is self-absorbed and usually puts himself first, not an endearing quality, certainly, but not a criminal one, either.

The brother, a beautiful young man played by the beautiful actor Andrew Wei Lin (above, left), has trouble committing. The two friends are essayed by Thomas Sadoski (shown, right, two photos above), a fellow with drug problems who's carrying a torch for Ms Bilderback (even in repose, Mr. Sadoski has one of the most expres-
sive faces currently to be seen), and a tubby schlubby, Colin Fickes (shown below) who is very funny -- and so real it hurts. In suppor-
ting roles are some always-wonderful standby actors like Larry Pine and Bill Sage (shown above, right) plus another actor new to me, Terry Serpico, who becomes the very energetic and nasty fly-in-the-ointment. Yet, no one's a real villain here. Johnson, too smart to fall for that cliche, knows that we're involved in our own downfall, enabling the snakes we connive with to do their wont.

The Johnson/Chawla screenplay is full of intelligent dialog that explains with little exposition and carries us from scene to scene, gradually building up a sense of time and place, character and motivation, that, by the finale, has brought together a viable portrait of everyone. There are really no missteps along the way, which is remarkable in a first film. (Sure, some things could be done better, but nothing falls flat.) Viewer complaints on Netflix and the IMDB generally accuse the film of featuring people who are not that "nice." Yeah? Grow up. Most people often aren't. These guys and their gal, despite their conflicting desires, come through for each other in the pinch (most of them, anyway), and that's what counts. The New Twenty may be a slice of yuppie life (perhaps it's these yuppie types that so bothers some viewers), but it's a very real one: beautifully written, directed and performed.

One of the unusual strengths of the movie is that it shows a group of friends in which gay and straight characters easily intermingle. But even here, Mr. Johnson is a realist: Note the scene in which the venture capitalist puts down the gay brother, to which the fiance offers only a very mild defense of his future brother-in-law. For more on this film and the man who made it, read the excellent interview with the co-writer/director on Indiewire.

The New Twenty was released to DVD a week or so back
by Wolfe Video, a company that continues to
increase its range and raise its (and our) taste level.