Bill Morrison and Bill Frisell's THE GREAT FLOOD gets U.S. premiere at IFC Center on Wednesday

Photography hounds -- particularly those who love the archival stuff -- along with history buffs and cinephiles of many stripes have a treat in store this week, as a most unusual movie opens here in New York City. THE GREAT FLOOD, a combination of archival footage found and arranged by Bill Morrison with music by Bill Frisell, takes us back to spring, 1927, when the Mississippi River rose over its banks in 145 places -- inundating 27,000 square miles (to a depth of up to 30 feet!). The flooding caused a mass exodus of displaced sharecroppers, thus adding to the migration of southern blacks to the northern United States, marking the coming of major changes in everything from population distribution and employment opportunities to culture and music.

Mr. Morrison, pictured at left, is the man responsible for the glowing, beautiful and moving documentary, The Miners' Hymns from 2010, and I would say that his love and under-standing of history, photography and justice is as equally strong in this new film. Again, there is no narration or dialog in The Great Flood. Instead, it's all visuals and accompanying music. But what visuals and music!

The latter is provided by guitarist/composer Bill Frisell, shown at right, who with other musicians and Morrison, tra-veled to the south during 2011 -- when the Mississippi again flooded to levels unseen since 1927 -- and were, one imag-ines, alternately freaked out & inspired by what they saw.

The visual footage Morrison has unearthed is remarkable in a couple of ways: that it still exists and he found it, for one thing; for another, that some of the film, having been shot on nitrate stock, has partially disintegrated. This deterioration does fit into the filmmaker's esthetic (Decasia) and, as used here, gives the finished film a kind of decaying/magisterial, glorified/sorrowful look.

In our current era of overdone special effects, this degraded film stock takes on its own odd, special-effect signature, bringing to the movie something that goes beyond even its usual (and often very special) "archival" appearance.

Musically, the movie is special, too, beginning with Frisell's use of the introduction to the great Jerome Kern song Ol' Man River, which we hear over and over, almost as a kind of vamping to help set us up for the powerful chorus. Never fear, that chorus eventually is heard in all its glory toward the film's finale. In between Frisell and his musicians (Ron Miles, trumpet; Tony Scherr, bass, guitar; and Kenny Wollesen, drums, vibes) give us all sorts of music, mostly jazz-inflected, that eventually combines to take us back to an event, in a time and place that seem both a century past and all too timely once again.

By timely I do not mean simply the new millennial flooding. It does not take much to imagine, as well, most of our country's citizens once again becoming sharecroppers of a sort, working for the wealthy and the corporations. Yet you can watch The Great Flood, I suppose, and not even dwell on any of that. Just lose yourself in the images, the music and the flow. But Morrison has divided his opus into sections, and one of these is titled, as I recall, "Politicians." Yup: There they are, and their behavior then is so like their behavior now that it is difficult not to draw conclusions.

Beginning with shots of maps of the area covered, the movie takes its time getting us to those old photos and film stock, but the wait becomes almost suspenseful, and once we see the images, both still and moving, we're hooked. By the time we get to the section in which the powers-that-be try to control the flood by blowing stuff up (below -- and uselessly, as it turns out), the incompetence and venality of certain of our governments becomes even clearer: This flood, along with the Katrina disaster, both took place under Republican administrations.

As much as I enjoyed -- reveled in -- the beauty of the film, I have to admit that the constant, uninterrupted flow of images and music did grow almost hypnotic from time to time, so a little pinch on the face or arm was necessary to snap my eyes to attention again. Otherwise, this film will be a must-see for many of us. You know who you are.

The Great Flood, from Icarus Films, in black-and-white and running just 80 minutes, opens this Wednesday, January 8, in New York City at the IFC Center, and on January 9 in Hudson, NY, at Time & Space Limited. Other engagements across the country? Hope so. And, yes: We've just learned that this film will be opening in Los Angeles this Friday, January 24, for a week-long run at the Downtown Independent. Meanwhile its NYC release at IFC Center has been extended. As is true, I believe, of most Icarus films, it will eventually be released on DVD, and maybe to digital and streaming -- though all of this can take a very long time, so see it at the theatrical venues, if possible. (How long? Well, one of the best docs of 2010, Icarus' Disco & Atomic War will be arriving on home video DVD and VOD on February 25 -- well over three years after its American theatrical debut.)

Guest post by Lee Liberman -- Guillou/Flinth/ Gunnarsson's ARN: THE KNIGHT TEMPLAR

Based on fiction by popular and prolific contemporary Swedish crime novelist/journalist Jan Guillou, and directed by Peter Flinth (shown below), from a screenplay by Hans Gunnarsson, ARN: THE KNIGHT TEMPLAR, is a 6-chapter adventure romance set in Twelfth-Century Scandinavian 'games of thrones' (Norway also in play in the story) and in the Middle East during wars waged between Christians and Saracens for control of Jerusalem. It's a perfect binge-watch for a snowy day.

Starring Swedish film and tv actors, Joakim Natterqvist (on poster, above, and below, right) and Sofia Helin (below, left), a passel of Skarsgårds (not Alex but his robust and commanding father Stellan with 3 younger Skarsgårds), Simon Callow, and others in an international cast, Arn's story is more than a galloping bodice-ripper; it deservedly beat 'the Tudors' which it ran against in France. It's value-added by its humanization of the Saracen enemy through Arn's (fictional) combat and friendship with Saladin, the brilliant Sunni leader (born 1138 coincidentally in Saddam's home town of Tikrit, Iraq), who defeated the Christian armies and reclaimed Jerusalem after a near century of rule by the West.

Arn is a small farm boy from Gothia (Southern Sweden) when the king to whom his family is loyal is decapitated by an enemy clan. The dead king's son, Knut, brings his pet bird to visit Arn, and chasing it over the edge of a lookout tower, Arn falls, lingering unconscious. His parents promise God that Arn will serve the church if he wakes. After recovering, Arn is reluc-tantly delivered to the monastery where he is raised with care, educated, and taught warrior skills by Brother Gilbert (Vincent Perez), then sent home as a young man. There Arn resumes his friendship with the grown and ambitious Knut, (Gustaf Skarsgard), now lying in wait to snatch back the crown from the clan that deposed his father.

Smitten with the beautiful Cecelia, Arn gets her pregnant, the scandal producing penance for the lovers of 20 years service to the church. Cecelia is confined to the local convent (below) where a vengeful abbess (the now deceased Bibi Anderson) tortures her and makes off with her bastard infant. Arn is sent to the Holy Land as a Templar Knight where he acquires fame among Saracens as the invinci-ble Christian enemy warrior they call 'Al Ghouti'. The story juggles Holy War machinations, life in the abbey, and tribal Scandinavian politics where evildoers wage their plots with Shakespearean relish and brutality.

In the desert, Arn matures into a master strategist and commander whose life intertwines with arch-enemy Saladin. Played by stunning Indian movie idol Milind Soman (below), Saladin emerges as a wise, devout, and entirely admirable adversary, (confirmed as fact in historical accounts). Saladin and Arn, well-matched enemies, quote the Koran to each other: "Take not another's life.....for it is sacred in the eyes of God, save in the cause of righteousness". Arn's subordinate asks: "Are those Saracens evil?" Arn replies: "They are like us; some are vile while others are good." Despite the novelist's reputation as ardently pro-Palestinian, the script lets the evil-doing fall where it may, if just a tad heavier on the West.

Natterqvist as the stoic, self-contained Templar Knight at the center of the saga is a somewhat bland though versatile player. Born into an equestrian family, he is at home with a sword as on horseback and facile with languages.

While reading English subtitles and listening to the Swedish dialogue, I was struck by the amount of familiar vocabulary that must have made its way into English through waves of Scandinavian invasions to Britain, so much so you almost block out the foreign-ness of the tongue. Everyday expressions recur over and over: "come and go", "catch me if you can", "Welcome", "Hey" , "God's will"'. A strapping Norwegian craving beer in the desert moans, "ule, ule, ule" -- no doubt presaging our word "ale".

Altogether one is reminded of how much we owe our far flung ancestors, how reminiscent the Crusader period is of our own hapless struggles in the Middle East, and to hope someday that our murderous combat with each other will mature from violence to words.

You can watch Arn: The Knight Templar now on Netflix streaming, or via DVD and Blu-ray.

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The above post is written by Lee Liberman, who graduated in English Literature from UC Berkeley and has a Masters of Science in Communications Management from Simmons College, Boston. Liberman spent her professional career working in corporate communications, but has continuously free-lanced as writer, photographer, editor in both technical communications and the arts.

Ms Liberman and TrustMovies first communicated over a post on this blog regarding A Heavenly Vintage, a very fine film which she has promised to write about soon. When that happens, her post will appear on this blog.

It's back -- and (evidently) better than ever! Thom Andersen's LOS ANGELES PLAYS ITSELF

I'm told that, for his newly remastered version of the now-fabled LOS ANGELES PLAYS ITSELF (not to be confused with Fred Halsted's famous porno hit, LA Plays Itself, which is actually given some prime space in this film), filmmaker Thom Andersen (shown below) has replaced most of its old VHS clips with hi-def source material, dropping certain sections, lengthening others and re-editing the whole shebang. All of what's new would be lost on TrustMovies, however, because I never got to see the original version. As soon as I heard about this film, which is just now celebrating its 10th anniversary, I stuck it on my Netflix queue -- and waited. I'm still waiting. So thank god for this second and very timely theatrical release.

Evidently (and I am guessing on this), due to the amazing amount of clips from other films that are used in this documentary and the consequent problems with "rights and permissions," the film never made its way onto DVD. More than a shame, this seems almost criminal, considering how terrific the film is in every way, particularly, I think, for anyone who truly knows and appreciates Los Angeles -- even folk, like me, who don't much care for the place. I was born and raised in Los Angeles, then returned in my adulthood to live and work there for another decade. So I feel I can assess the city pretty well. And since Mr. Andersen and I were born only two years apart, I expect we know L.A. in somewhat the same way. (I, too, remember the original Angels Flight, below.)

What Andersen has given us is not only one of the best documentaries I've yet seen on movies, it is also the best about Los Angeles and where and how the city and the movies intersect. The filmmaker's narration (beauti-fully voiced by Encke King) -- Andersen wrote, produced and directed this film -- is wonderfully literate, thoughtful, funny, incisive, with loads of specifics, some of which you may already know but most you will not.

Here's one: L.A.'s Union Station (left) has played a kind of "everystation" in films, even once -- in The Replacement Killers -- playing the L.A. airport.

When it comes to architecture, the documentarian also shows us -- rightly, I think -- how Hollywood films tend to quite unfairly "trash" the modern, making it so often the home, as in L.A. Confidential, below, of villains and sleaze.

Mr. Andersen loves movies, it is clear, and I think he also loves Los Angeles, but he is quite aware of the city's history (his section on its public transit system, example below, is eye-opening, offering a less simplistic look than we got from Who Framed Roger Rabbit?), its notorious police department, and the Hollywood "Walk of Shame" (as he calls that cruddy, stars-in-the-pavement "Walk of Fame").

His opinions are sometimes jolting and funny: "People who hate Los Angeles love Point Blank." (Hey, I don't like either!) And I hope he will forgive me for using the shortened name of L.A., which he evidently despises, rather than constantly having to type out the full Los Angeles moniker. Yet his tastes and wit help make this movie -- a love letter to this city if ever there was one -- both sharp and endearing, a kind of personal history of public places and things.

Andersen's look at a famous Los Angeles hotel (above) and its use in movies is gorgeous, sometimes bizarre fun. And his observation on Hollywood movie bathrooms in the '50s (no toilets!) is something I never noticed till now. He also notes in passing how Hollywood does love to destroy Hollywood via its own disaster movies.

After showing us moments from The Outside Man, Andersen takes on movies' "tourism" and divides this into what he calls high and low tourism, with Woody Allen and Alfred Hitchcock examples of (this may surprise you) the latter, while the Jacques, Deray and Demy, excel at the former (Deray with The Outside Man and Demy with his Model Shop (above).

The filmmaker also gives us an hilarious "take" on Sunset Boulevard and a very different, intelligent and provocative look at Blade Runner. From L.A. Confidential, we move to cop stories like Dragnet (that's TV, mostly, though several movies were made from the series) and Altman's Short Cuts. (Notes Andersen: "Condescending directors know only a few parts of this city.")

There is so much more here (for one, where L.A.'s water comes from and its somewhat wrongly understood connection to Chinatown, above), and we see again some wonderful city landmarks like the Pan Pacific auditorium and the Richfield Building.

Los Angeles Plays Itself is three hours long. Yet I sat and watched it through, end to end, and then so besotted with all the movies and facts and surprises and opinions and more, all that I wanted to do was immediately see it again, if only to straighten out certain confusions and wrap myself in its pleasures once more.

Along the way, you will note in Andersen's narration a persistent streak of, well, a kind of call for justice -- from the movies, from the city. Our filmmaker is a good progressive thinker, with an eye and ear for all the people of L.A. His finale is unequivocally socialist and egalitarian, angry and moving. Along the way, we hear of Kent Mackenzie's perhaps over-rated but still important film, The Exiles (above), and now we get Billy Woodbury's Bless Their Little Hearts (below) and Charles Burnett's Killer of Sheep. It's a fitting finale for a film this inclusive, this important, this... great.

My apologies to Thom Andersen and to Harris Dew at IFC for getting this post up late. Los Angeles Plays Itself opened yesterday here in NYC at the IFC Center, where it will play through January 9th and where it deserves to find a huge audience. I hope it will play elsewhere around the country, and this time also find its way to DVD. If anyone out there knows more about playdates for the film and/or a possible DVD release, please alert me and I will add that info to this post.

Rob Kuhns' BIRTH OF THE LIVING DEAD: Everything you wanted to know about the original flesh-eating-zombie movie

Imitations and homages may come and go but there is still only one true and great "modern" zombie movie: Night of the Living Dead, the transgressive -- politically and moviewise -- 1968 chiller/thriller/
horror/gore-fest from George A. Romero. A young filmmaker named Rob Kuhns (shown below) had the fine idea to interview Mr. Romero (about how the movie came to be) along with others (about what the movie means), and the result is a first-rate documentary -- BIRTH OF THE LIVING DEAD -- that should please zombie fans, cult movie lovers and literally anyone who feels, as does TrustMovies, that Romero's film remains, in its own special way, something seminal and important to the history of motion pictures (and I do not mean only horror movies).

As captured by Kuhns' direction and editing, Mr. Romero, shown below and now 73, turns out to be a charming raconteur: intelligent, relatively humble (as filmmakers go), funny but never glib, with a good memory and a real delight in recalling the old days and how they went down. Mr. Kuhns has rounded up a fine array of talking heads, too -- from horror filmmaker Larry Fessenden (shown further below) to producer Gale Anne Hurd, critics Elvis Mitchell and Jason Zinoman, and film historian Mark Harris, along with some of the actors like Bill Hinzman who doubled and tripled in other jobs on the film set and who are still alive. (Mr. Hinzman gets a lovely post-credit sequences at a mall event celebrating--what else?--zombies.)

Mostly though, it's Romero who guides us through the thicket of the past, how the initial idea came about and grew, how money was raised, first to film that idea and then do the technical work necessary to ready the film for release. In order to find enough funds to finish the sound track (as I recall, it was the sound track), one of the actors/workers bet a fellow who owned a sound studio that he could beat him in a chess match. He did.

Some of the anecdotes we hear along the way are wonderfully funny and surprising. (Who knew that Mr. Rogers had any connection to the world's most famous zombie movie?) And some are simply sad. (Want to make a guess as to how rich everyone connected to this groundbreaking movie became -- along with the reason why not?)

The 76-minute length of the documentary simply flies by, and I can hardly think of anything I'd want to have seen left on the cutting room floor. From this film we get -- as the original movie itself has always given us -- politics, race, taboos and other cultural touchstones.

Via scenes from the film, as well as from some nifty illustrations (shown above), we can relive our initial shock and fear all over again, this time with a smile always flickering around our faces. (That's Mr. Hinzman -- above in illustration and below on film -- as the initial zombie encountered in the graveyard.)

One of the most flat-out enjoyable documentaries of the year, Birth of the Living Dead, from First Run Features, had a short theatrical release a few months back, and will make its DVDebut this coming Tuesday, January 7. As with many FRF releases, I think we can expect it to appear on streaming sources eventually.

For 2014 FIAF introduces a new French film initiative -- CinéSalon -- with great movies, wine receptions, and smart guest speakers

 

Remember CinemaTuesdays -- The French Institute Alliance Française (FIAF)'s enduring program of French cinema that occurred with regularity almost every Tuesday for years now? Beginning January 14, FIAF will introduce a new Tuesday program featuring the same level of fine French cinema, this time titled CinéSalon, that sounds even more fun and engaging. As FIAF's Director of Public Relations, Natascha Bodeman, tells us, "In the spirit of French ciné-clubs and literary salons, CinéSalon pairs a French film classic with a post-screening wine reception." Films will be shown Tuesdays at 4 and 7:30pm, and every screening will be followed by a get-together with a complimentary glass of wine. And there's a bonus, too: Each 7:30 screening will be introduced by an interesting, high-profile personality in the arts.

For the inaugural season of CinéSalon, FIAF will be presenting remastered and restored: treasures of French cinema, with a special focus on new prints and digital restorations that pay tribute to the work of archivists and independent distributors dedicated to preserving great French films and ensuring that these masterpieces are available for generations to enjoy. From Max Ophüls and Jacques Demy to the New York premiere of a little-seen Jean-Pierre Melville film, the series features a selection of beloved classics as well as some rarely shown gems. Take a look at a rundown of the first ten films below, and you'll have to conclude that these movies represent an exceedingly diverse and high-level array -- in terms of both entertainment value and the art of cinema.


Purple Noon, directed by René Clément, Tuesday, January 14 • U.S. Premiere of the new Digital Restoration • @ 4pm and 7:30, with the latter screening introduced by author Marc Levy

If you've never seen this film (the French title of which, Plein soleil, actually translates closer to "broad daylight" than the more purple prose of the international English title), you simply must take a look at it -- if only to see perhaps the most beautiful man who ever graced the cinema: Alain Delon, shown in the photos above. It is also a nifty, stylish mystery adapted from the well-known novel by Patricia Highsmith that introduced us to one of history's most famous bad boys, a sociopath named Tom Ripley.

Tom has been brought to life again and again, most pleasurably by Matt Damon in Anthony Minghella's fine adaptation called The Talented Mr. Ripley, and by John Malkovich in Liliana Cavani's excellent Ripley's Game. Delon and Clément got there first, however, bringing along for the ride the luscious Marie Laforêt (two photos up) and sexy Maurice Ronet, so for many of us, Purple Noon remains the Ripley touchstone. It's a gorgeous film (with settings on the French Riviera and Taormina), impeccably cast and rendered, presenting us with one of the most creepily appealing and durable anti-heroes to be found in all cinema -- with this new digital restoration providing by far the most beautiful image of this 1960 classic that I've yet seen.


Summer (Le rayon vert), directed by Eric Rohmer, Tuesday, January 21 • New 35mm print • at 4pm and 7:30, with the latter screening introduced by New Yorker film critic Richard Brody

Some folk called Eric Rohmer an acquired taste. Once acquired, however, his work becomes something almost second nature, like breathing. I suspect the fellow's films are best appreciated by a more mature audience because, generally, they're all dialog, to which the visuals are subservient. But what dialog! Within it, Rohmner manages to show us everything from history and motivation to desire, self-delusion, hypocrisy, and all else that's part of the human comedy. In short, this dialog gives us everything that makes up character. Is Summer among his best? Hell, they all are. (Except his final oddity -- Romance of Astree & Celadon -- which I've seen twice and still can't figure out why he made it. Perhaps he was trying to do what he did modern-day in a medieval setting...?)


Cleo from 5 to 7, directed by Agnès Varda, U.S. Premiere of new digital restoration! Tuesday, January 28 at 4pm and 7:30, with the latter screening to be introduced by author Catherine Cusset

Ms Varda's movie grows richer every time I see it (which now totals four viewings). Stylistically ground-breaking (Ms Varda remains the least acknowledged member of the French New Wave), the movie stars the fabulous French chanteuse Corinne Marchand, who, in mid-movie sings a wonderful song of love and sorrow (by Michel Legrand, as I recall) that, once heard, will probably never be forgotten. (I'd see the movie again just to hear that song.)  This is early and very organic feminism, with no undue pushing. It brings the life of a singular woman to the fore and lets us better understand it. If you've never seen Cleo -- set in real time and also dealing in love, death and the Algerian War --
here's your chance.

That it for January's movies. There are seven more on tap through February and March. I'll have a post ready on February's film at the end of this month and those for March by the close of February. Meanwhile, to see the entire CinéSalon listing now, simply click here. This program, by the way, is free to FIAF Members, which should make joining the organization all that more enticing....

French Institute Alliance Francaise (FIAF) 22 East 60th Street New York, NY 10022  For more information on FIAF, click here.

MY AWKWARD SEXUAL ADVENTURE proves one of the best rom-coms -- with some terrific sex!

Is it possible that maybe the best rom-com of last year (certainly one of the best) has gone straight to streaming? Looks that way to me, and thanks to Netflix and Amazon Instant Video, you can revel in the charm, novelty and healthy, upfront sexuality of MY AWKWARD SEXUAL ADVENTURE to your heart's content and then recommend it to friends and family. As directed by Sean Garrity (shown below) and written by its star, Jonas Chernick, this movie is funny, surprising, sweet, moving -- and very sexual.

Even the plot and the manner in which our hero and heroine meet and bond make a lot of sense (something that often eludes many would-be rom-coms). From the opening moments (yes, it's a sex scene) in which what happens is some kind of first, I believe, the tone and situation are so odd but believable that the movie should have you quickly hooked. From there, things spin off and along in a kind of appropriately bizarre style that stems from character rather than from any typically weird situation (though many of the situations here are pretty weird), and this intelligent approach helps carry the movie through to its very satisfying finale and sweet denouement.

Mr. Chernick (above and below) is a Canadian actor (I don't think I've ever noticed him previously) who plays an accountant named Jordan Abrams, who's an attractive fellow but certainly nothing special. Early on, his best friend Dandak (Vik Sahay, shown at bottom, left) asks a young woman passing by to rate Jordan on a scale of one to ten. "Seven," says she, but you'll probably be thinking, Nah, he's a six, at best.

Due to what seems like a permanent falling-out with his significant other, Rachel (Sarah Manninen) -- who is shown three photos down, having an awfully good and intimate time with some folk who do not include her Jordan -- our accountant heads for a bigger city with a plan to make Rachel jealous, while boning up on his below-par sexual skills.

To that end the movie introduces us to its ace in the hole,a stripper named Julia, played by perhaps our favorite Canadian-actress-who's-little-known-down-here, Emily Hampshire, above and below. Ever since Ms Hampshire knocked us dead with her brief but unforgettable role in Snow Cake, we've been expecting her to hit one out of the park. She came close in Good Neighbors a couple of years back; she does so again, here.

No hooker with a heart of gold, Julia is still a decent human being, despite her money problems abetted by a distinct lack of organization skills, and when she and Jordan begin to bond, the connection is as amusing as it is real and quite believable. This pair makes the best pairing we've seen in movies in quite some time.

What's even more special about the film, however, is how it treats its subsidiary characters. Mr. Chernick cares for all of them, and I think you will, too. His treatment of Rachel (above and on the receiving end), in particular, is worthy of note: This woman is pretty severely problemed; even so, she's never beyond care -- or repair.

The other thing that distinguishes My Awkward Sexual Adventure is its handling of sex. This is open, free-wheeling (some male full-frontal, folk), and has quite a penchant for cunnilingus (shown above and further above) -- something I've long enjoyed giving, and have been amazed, even aroused, by the enormous pleasure this can bring to women. The movie treats all this sexuality with credibility, humor and charm, which adds immeasurably to the overall effect of this very winning work.

It's hard to believe that something this unusual and enjoyable (from Tribeca Film and runing 98 minutes) never made it into theaters across the USA. But you can view it now via Netflix streaming and Amazon Instant Video. You can also find it via DVD. (The lovely young woman in the photo above is Melissa Elias.)