The lines have long been blurred between art and life, news and entertainment, even good and evil. Enter Donald Trump. Well, that’s obvious. But how about… Enter Donald Trump trailing behind Roger Stone? Okay, that’s been reported. And a documentary was even released in 2017, which touched on the Stone-Trump relationship, and I reviewed that documentary, which blurred my lines between fascination and fear. I told the potential viewing audience to “Get your hate on!” with this film. Get Me Roger Stone, directed by Morgan Pehme, Dylan Bank, and Daniel DiMauro, debuted at the Tribeca Film Festival in 2017 – a breaking news story waiting to happen, but camouflaged innocuously between the other “politically timely” documentaries.
And now that story has truly broken wide open, as filmmaker Morgan Pehme is testifying to serious news outlets about the all-too-relevant relationship that he was privy to while making his film. Suddenly our filmmaker has become a witness to a potential crime – not the inside scoop on a bank robbery or a murder, or anything as “small” as that; the Get Me Roger Stone filmmaker may have key evidence in the national-nightmare investigation into Russia Collusion – the treasonous offense that many speculate could be the downfall of President Trump.
Roger Stone and Donald Trump pre-scandal
What Pehme heard and saw while filming his Roger Stone documentary may be shedding light on the shadowy relationship between Trump’s campaign advisor Roger Stone and WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange, helping to connect the dots between Trump, Stone, Assange, Wikileaks, Cambridge Analytica, Paul Manafort and the Kremlin. Is it all a conspiracy theory? Well, it may be, and if it is, it will delight the spotlight-loving Roger Stone all the more.
But first, scan through this series of news stories that provide new context and bring the documentary into sharper focus:
Back in 2017, the Hollywood Reporter revealed that “Get Me Roger Stone Directors Not Surprised by Manafort Indictment.”Click here to read about it.
On 3/13/2018 Politico wrote, “Roger Stone tried to meet with Assange, documentary producer says”:
“Roger Stone was attempting to meet with Wikileaks founder Julian Assange in the summer of 2016, a producer for Get Me Roger Stone said on Tuesday. Morgan Pehme, a producer for the documentary, said on MSNBC that during an interview with Stone for the documentary, the then-informal Trump adviser “was trying to meet with Julian Assange.” Pehme went on to say, “We don’t know if it was successful.’
“Get Me Roger Stone” is in the news.
“The Washington Post first reported that Stone interacted with Assange. Stone, in the spring of 2016. said he heard from Assange that Wikileaks had obtained emails that would distress top Democrats, including Hillary Clinton campaign chairman John Podesta, according to the Post.” Click to read the full story.
On 3/20/2018, Politico wrote: “’Glad to see Cambridge Analytica whistleblower is willing to testify,’ Schiff tweeted, referencing news that former Cambridge employee Christopher Wylie was willing to speak with the panel’s Democrats. ‘Recent revelations about Erik Prince, Roger Stone and Cambridge Analytica illustrate how GOP decision to shut down their investigation abdicated their oversight responsibilities to country. But our work goes on’.” Click here to read the full article
On 4/3/2018 CNN published this story: WSJ: Special counsel looking into Roger Stone’s ties to WikiLeaks. Click here to read the story.
On 4/42018 CNN writes, “Stone, on day he sent Assange dinner email, also said ‘devastating’ WikiLeaks were forthcoming.”Click to read the article.
On 4/7/2018 Roger Stone warned that “it would be very dangerous for Trump to meet with Mueller,” suggesting that he had inside information that gave him special insight. Click to read.
On April 23rd, there was this: Roger Stone, a former top Trump advisor, is named in the DNC’s lawsuit alleging collusion between Russia and the Trump campaign, along with Jared Kushner, Donald Trump Jr., WikiLeaks, Guccifer 2.0, and more. Click for the video.
Will the Real Patti Smith
Please Stand Up? + Nico, 1988: A Really Good Aging-Punk-Rocker Movie
by HelenHighly
I am feeling some guilt for kinda dissing Patti Smith in the last essay I wrote – just glibly dashing off a few lines about her Tribeca Film Festival appearance at the premier of Horses: Patti Smith and Her Band, the new documentary about her 40th anniversary performance of her 1975 debut album of the same name, followed by a live concert at the Beacon Theater. I hadn’t planned on writing about that film or event, but it sort of just came out as I typed my introduction to a lengthy film review of a wild, crazy, mind-blowing movie, Ghostbox Cowboy, which was part art and part politics and part comedy and part tragedy and part acid trip. I think it was just my subconscious mind that put together referencing Patti Smith as part of my intro discussion of that film (which does make a kind of surreal sense), although… what I wrote was not exactly complimentary of Patti, and certainly not worthy of the musical and artistic giant that she is.
Here’s what I wrote: ” …And if Patti Smith (my hero) can use the word ‘motherfucker’ three times in every sentence, which she recently did in and at the premier of Horses, the new and intentionally-terrible documentary film about her, followed by a bizarrely-hostile live performance at Beacon Theater (yeah, I know she was a punk rocker, and she still can rock like no one else, but she’s 70 beloved years old now and has essentially accepted the role of Goddess Mother Earth, so… fewer ‘motherfuckers’ out of her mouth might be in order)… all that and be only praised and worshipped by the press the next day, then that gives me permission to say this:”
Patti Smith, Horses
So… I want to start here by recalling one of the best concert experiences I’ve ever had – maybe the best, which was seeing Patti Smith play at Lincoln Center Out of Doors, in the summer of 2016. It was my first summer in New York. I had moved here from Chicago, which I had proudly claimed as My City for most of my adult life. But here I was running around NYC, eating up all the art and film and music around town like a kid, exclaiming, “I feel like I am the last person on the planet to realize that New York City is the best city in the world!”
And my friend took me to see Patti Smith play live, outdoors, at Lincoln Center, for FREE (!!!) on a glorious summer evening, surrounded by glistening NYC skyscrapers. I had never seen Patti Smith live before. I knew her music, and some of her poetry, and some of the photographs, but… no experience of her like this. It was such a small, casual venue, but Patti Smith rocked the sky that night. She literally shredded her guitar – broke the strings playing her final song. I will never forget it. (I won’t include her playlist because… you know, everything she sang was just everything you could ever want to hear her sing.) She also ranted about Donald Trump, shouted about how we need to VOTE, talked about the world, talked about herself… she was ferocious, she was funny, she was bright and the very definition of magnificent. That event was part rock concert, part political rally, and part religious revival, and all of it such a pure expression of brains and guts and heart and soul. Patti Smith was a Force of Nature. She was Earth Shaking. She was Gorgeous. She was Transcendent.
Patti Smith and Her Band
That is how I think of Patti Smith. She was 70 years old at the time, and I remember thinking how lucky I was to see her in what might be one of her final concerts. Ha! As she yelled in her new documentary, while she played a raucous cover of “My Generation,”… “I am old, and I’m gonna get older, motherfuckers!” And as amusing as that was, that was part of the issue I had with that night – both Patti live and her new documentary (which was directed by Steven Sebring, who also directed the previous Patti Smith documentary, Dream of Life).
I need to add that in between these two events, I saw Patti Smith another time. It was in Brooklyn, at what was supposed to be a reading and book signing for her new book, M Train. She read a little from the book. Then, she said she’d rather sing than read, and asked the crowd if they agreed (duh), and so we were treated to a surprise spontaneous concert, which felt like a private performance. Patti was sort of in mellow mode that night (which for her is still passionate). She sang and she played and she stopped often to tell stories and talk about what was on her mind and to interact with this devoted audience, whom she seemed to respect and appreciate almost as much as we did her.
That is what was missing at the Beacon Theater Monday night. I wasn’t looking for mellow; I was looking for that brilliant, radiant energy – that passionate person. I mean, Patti Smith seems to have accepted the mantle of being worshipped as Mother Earth herself. (And Mother Earth shouldn’t really be yelling MotherFucker all the time, should she?) She is adored; she is revered. As she should be. Her career as a musician and poet and artist has been extraordinary, as has been her activism and philanthropy. And yes, she started more than 40 years ago as a growling, raging, cursing punk rocker, which helped change the world. And her anniversary performance of her seminal Horses album, and the accompanying documentary are intended to be celebrations of that, as they should be. She is a legend in her own time.
NEW YORK, NY – JULY 14: Singer Patti Smith performs at the Castle Clinton National Monument in Battery Park on July 14, 2011 in New York City. (Photo by Jason Kempin/Getty Images)
And it really does pain me to say it, but at TFF, both in the movie and in person… the raw and original energy that made her, seemed to be lacking. Or, not lacking so much as … being forced back on stage. I felt she was playing a role – reenacting her former self. There, I said it. Patti Smith has never been anything but TRUE, and I sort of felt like I was watching someone else do a tribute concert – someone else try to impersonate her former, fierce and snarling punk-rocker youth.
Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe
Yes, Patti can totally still rock out, harder and louder than anyone. But… why was she trying so hard to prove it? Why was she repeatedly yelling insults into the audience, calling everyone motherfucker, again and again? Why did she seem so angry – at the world at large as well as her own fans? It just didn’t seem like that true, well-seasoned, self-assured, and powerfully loving force of nature that she has become.
(And, kinda separately, I know that everyone was so thrilled that Patti brought out Bruce Springsteen to play with her, but… why did Patti never play guitar during this show? What was up with that? Btw, Bruce and Patti performed “Because the Night,” a song they co-wrote in 1978, and that was indeed one of the highlights of the concert — not because of Bruce, but because his appearance seemed to soften Patti some and put her in a better mood.
Then Patti brought out Stipe, and her daughter Jesse Smith, for “People Have the Power,” to close the show. That was the highlight. Finally, with that last song, this mini-concert felt like a celebration. Patti had found her groove. Too bad it took so long to get there. And btw, it still didn’t begin to rival other renditions of that song I’ve heard Patti sing.)
And, in this documentary, did I not hear Patti say to Steven, “let’s make this film really bad, like Andy Warhol would,” or something along those lines? I get that Sebring has already made the thoughtful, personal documentary of Patti’s life, and this was intended to be a pure concert movie, but… sorry to disagree with apparently every other person who was there, but… I did NOT think it was beautifully or artfully shot, and it did seem to be sloppy and “intentionally terrible” (as I said in my Ghostbox Cowboy review). Most importantly, neither the film nor the performance seemed to me to express the brains and guts and heart and soul of the Real Patti Smith.
I’m Just Sayin
And okay, I concede that I know nothing about music and should not even be speaking my mind about this, but… since I already made those glib and unflattering remarks yesterday, I figure I should at least set the record straight and say how much I do sincerely adore Patti Smith, and how much Helen Highly admires her career and her life. And yet I do not recommend that anyone use this Horses documentary to remember her by; just get the indisputably great original album instead. I’m just saying.
p.s. I should note, for serious Patti Smith fans, that she is also depicted at Tribeca2018 in the documentary Mapplethorpe, when she and the famous photographer were young lovers.
Hey, want to see a really compelling, concert-tour film about an aging punk rocker? Check out Nico, 1988. Now here is a woman for whom it makes sense to be calling everyone Motherfucker. And as would also make sense, Nico OD’d, alas, while Patti Smith is still very much alive (because she never was a drug addict and she didn’t stay an angry teenager). Nico, 1988 is not a documentary, but it feels like one, thanks to the intrepid performance of Trine Dyrholm and writing and direction by Susanna Nicchiarelli.
Danish actress and musician Trine Dyrholm delivers a high-voltage performance as Christa Päffgen—better known as Nico, the Andy Warhol darling and one-time chanteuse of the Velvet Underground. At the outset of Nico, 1988, Nico is approaching 50, tumbling down the slopes of drug addiction, and desperate to regain custody of her son. Her manager, Richard (John Gordon Sinclair), sensing her need for purpose, sets her on a tour across Europe; back on the road, she’s equal parts tenacious, manic, and erratic.
Nico, 1988 at Tribeca
Writer-director Susanna Nicchiarelli gives us an unapologetic portrait of a woman who never cared about being pretty or nice; she is the antithesis of traditional female virtue. Nicchiarelli blends a tangible reverence for her subject with dark humor, crafting a riveting examination of a fragile artist constantly pushed to perform. The audience is witness to the anguished and scattered psychology of Nico’s final years. With precision, care, and grit, Nicchiarelli and Dyrholm capture the inner turmoil of a fearless icon, artist, and mother struggling to reconcile the consequences of her tortured life.
Helen Highly Fears Ghostbox Cowboy,Talks to Writer-Director John Maringouin, Comments on Patti Smith and Horses, and Gives a Shout-Out to General Magic
by HelenHighly
I gotta start with an opening paragraph that will feed the Google search-engine monster the info it needs and also give you a heads-up that I spend a long time railing against this film, but in the end… Helen Highly Recommends the movie Ghostbox Cowboy, written and directed by John Maringouin, which saw its world premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival 2018. And if Patti Smith (my hero) can use the word “motherfucker” three times in every sentence, which she recently did at the premiere of Horses, the new and intentionally-terrible documentary film about her, followed by a bizarrely-hostile live performance at Beacon Theater (yeah, I know she was a punk rocker, and she still can rock like no one else, but she’s 70 beloved years old now and has essentially accepted the role of Goddess Mother Earth, so… fewer “motherfuckers” out of her mouth might be in order)… all that and be only praised and worshipped by the press the next day, then that gives me permission to say this:
This motherfuckin’ movie is totally bat-shit crazy and plays like you took a dose of bad acid and had a terrible trip (and don’t tell me it was funny, motherfucker!). And just like an acid trip, you will finally come down and be exhausted and realize… there were an awful lot of potentially meaningful thoughts and images in that experience, which you may wish you never had, and it may or may not have changed your life, for good or ill you’re not sure… but it was kinda cool and yeah you’d do it again.
Patti Smith, Horses documentary
This movie had me running home, alone and in the dark, scared for reasons I didn’t understand, but definitely totally freaked out, looking over my shoulder for I don’t know who or what. Man, what a relentlessly grim, dark, bleak, terrifyingly phantasmagoric dystopian nightmare of a movie. I tried to shake it off before I went to bed. I couldn’t. I woke up in a wobbly and disoriented state, having dreamt about it, and then sat down at my computer and saw email from the film’s P.R. guy thanking me for attending the screening and asking if I would share my thoughts on the film. What the fuck, motherfucker?!
I sat down to write him a raging letter – blame him for horrifying me for no good reason, with his awful perverse movie and faking me out in the first place by giving me press notes that called it a comedy. A comedy?! This is a horror flick! For me, it was more disturbing than Get Out. And okay, Get Out did have some comic elements, and I even loved it for being such a genre-bender, but… this was different. I don’t have many horror films to compare this with because I tend to stay away from horror, but I know a terrifying movie when I see one. (For the record, I avoided the movies in the Tribeca “Midnight Series” – especially the zombie movies, and this should have had a Midnight Series warning label on it.)
Here’s how my email started: “You already asked me if I liked it and I told you NO! Don’t you remember that you tried to ask me after the movie last night if I liked it, and I pushed you aside as I ran out of the theater and down the stairs, visibly shaken, saying it was the creepiest movie I had ever seen?!” I fully explained the unpleasant circumstances: I was dutifully watching the back-to-back-to-back pre-festival press screenings, and this was the last film of the night, and I had my notebook in my hands but became so petrified as I watched the movie that I literally didn’t move and didn’t write a single word in my notebook.
And then, at some point late in the movie, I finally extricated my brain from its twisted grip and I caught my breath and looked around me and realized that nearly all the other reporters had left the theater! They had the good sense to get the Hell out of there! And suddenly I realized I was alone, in the dark, with this hideous, evil film. (I couldn’t use enough adjectives to describe my very-visceral surreal experience.) But I had stayed this long, so I gritted my teeth and stuck it out to its bitter end. And then, once outside, I was alone late on a weeknight on a deserted street in Tribeca, with this disturbing film breathing down my neck, and it followed me all the way home and into bed and even woke up with me in the morning. Sheesh.
“I, stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.” – A. E. Housman
And now I was writing an email about it. And as I typed and the more I detailed my experience, the more I pulled my thoughts together (as I always do in the process of writing), and I started considering exactly what was so upsetting to me about this movie. I was looking for a way to describe the depth of the horror and ugliness, and what I came up with was….
Remember that scary part of Pinocchio where he goes to Pleasure Island, which at first seems colorful and fun like an amusement park but quickly becomes dark and scary, as Pinocchio realizes that it is actually a land of sin and debauchery and brutality? And Pinocchio had just wanted to be a “real boy,” but he was tricked and robbed by false friends and taken to this place where everyone he meets is a soulless, ruthless exploiter of the hopes and dreams of others? (long pause. brain wildly racing) And there is one especially repugnant scene where they dress him up in a wig and costume and force him to perform for a miserable audience? O. M. G.
Pinocchio, Pleasure Island
Ghostbox Cowboy is the Pinocchio story? Yes, it is! Well, if that’s true, then I guess maybe that lends some credence to this movie, because Pinocchio is considered a canonical piece of literature and has inspired hundreds of adaptations. I mean, that’s some worthy material from which to borrow, if that’s what is going on here. (FYI, according to Wikipedia, Pinocchio has been adapted in over 260 languages worldwide. That makes it the most-translated book, other than the Bible, and one of the best-selling books ever published.) But I only remembered the Pinocchio story from my childhood brain – the fear and horror I felt, which was so much like what this movie had made me feel. I didn’t immediately remember all the details.
I was remembering the visuals from the Pinocchio Disney movie more than anything else, which btw was made a lot more child-friendly than the original. Although it is significant that I also had the book as a child and so the book is lurking in my memory banks too, and my mother had a rule against abridgements, so all the childhood stories I read were the real deal. For example, I had to read the authentic Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by L. Frank Baum, all 272 pages. In the Oz book, I think some of the most boring parts were left out of the movie, but the children’s novel The Adventures of Pinocchio (1883) by Italian writer Carlo Collodi, definitely included some dark and scary parts that didn’t make it into Disney’s film, including the brutal death of Pinocchio at the end, which was instead changed to a happy ending.
So, I Googled Pinocchio. In addition to the Wikipedia info above, what I found was amazing. For you to appreciate all the significant similarities, as I did as I sat there, I guess I need to first provide you with a synopsis of the Ghostbox Cowboy movie. But my major point is that suddenly I went from hating this movie to being fascinated by it. I had so many questions! I started my email as an angry rant and ended it with a request to interview the director, which I did and is included below. Here’s a short synopsis, provided by the filmmakers:
“This darkly comedic morality tale examines a wildly ambitious Westerner who tries to get in on China’s tech boom and finds that he may not be up to the task. Texan Jimmy Van Horn (David Zellner) is a cowboy huckster who arrives in the booming city of Shenzhen with a couple of bitcoins and huge ambitions of parlaying them into economic success. Lucky for Jimmy, he’s got a friend holding open the back door to this accidental “Shangri-La” – Bob Grainger (Robert Longstreet), who’s gotten new teeth, a blonde wig and looks twenty years younger. He promises to do the same for Jimmy in six weeks. Using a startling visual language, this film offers an excitingly fresh, complex perspective on China’s economic growth and the gold rush mentality it inspires.”
Sounds simple enough, right? Well, there’s a lot more to it, and it’s difficult to describe, at least for me, for whom the movie was a kind of blurr. (They aren’t kidding about “startling visual language.”) Here is a bit more detail, written by China Underground Cinema:
“America is dead. And washed-up tech entrepreneur Jimmy Van Horn is pushing the reset button. He’s moving himself and his shell company to Shenzhen, China.”
Ghostbox Cowboy poster
“Shenzhen: A fishing village 3 decades ago, now the biggest city you’ve never heard of. A fantasia of craven capitalists where wheels of industry spin so fast it’s ‘literally impossible to walk down the street without making money – if you know the right people.’ Lucky for Jimmy, he’s got a friend in Bob Grainger, who has been living there a long time. Bob’s got friends too, like Vincent X — a 25 year old Chinese tech heir who employs thousands of migrant workers making everything from iPhone knock offs to KFC toys. And his sidekick ‘The Specialist’ – a 29 year old from the Mojave Desert turned Chinese Sourcing Lord with a profound disdain for his fellow Americans. With friends like them, who needs enemies? But in China, enemies make dreams come true.”
Wow, right? So, I will take you to my interview with the writer-director John Maringouin (along with some after-the-fact commentary by me, in parenthesis):
…a post-apocalyptic dystopia, except there was no real apocalypse; it’s as if humanity is the apocalypse…
HH: Let’s start with the genre issue. You call it a comedy.
JM: Yup.
HH: How is it a comedy? I understand that all comedies aren’t necessarily funny, but the classical definition of comedy is at least a circular structure.
JM: Yes, it is circular: it goes from one blank region to another. (HH is surprised that JM does not flinch at my introduction of academic stuff like classical definitions of genres.)
JM: It starts at a Walmart in the desert and he ends up in the Chinese version of the same – a blank space in the desert. (Hmm. Okay. If you think of it that way, I guess.)
HH: (pushing my luck) But there’s no wedding at the end. Traditional comedies end with a wedding, or some type of happy union.
Ghostbox Cowboy singing at a wedding
JM: (again, not even a pause) Yes there is. There is a wedding at end. He’s at a wedding. He performs at a wedding. (Well, sort of. I should have said in the interview that the wedding in the movie was not at all joyous; in fact it was a major humiliation and a kind of sadistic experience. But we only had 15 minutes, and I didn’t want to waste them debating the nature of comedy. I was eager to get to the Pinocchio thing.)
JM: The wedding is the very last thing that happens before, well … without giving away too much about the end.
(Damn it. Is this the place that I am going to have to write my treatise on “spoilers”? I always figured I’d save it for a more “important” review. Well, just briefly: I think the idea of spoilers is silly. We all know how every Shakespeare play ends, and yet we watch them over and over. We listen to the same songs we like over and over. Hey, we even recently watched the new version of Agatha Christie’s Murder on the Orient Express – a murder mystery! It’s been done over and over, but the ending never changes. Still, we watch it. Knowing the ending does not “spoil” the experience. More on this subject another time. But for now, I am revealing a bit – not all – of the ending of Ghostbox Cowboy. Okay, motherfuckers?!)
HH: I can’t think of another comedy that ends with the death of the lead character.
JM: (laughs) That’s true. I think maybe it’s a comedy in the same way that Dante’s Inferno is – you know, part of the Divine Comedy. They call that a comedy.
HH: Well.. those are some lost brain cells for me. I can’t recall the exact dynamics of that story. I’ll have to look it up later.
[Hey, kudos to John for remembering so much from his dramatic literature class in college. I mean, this guy ain’t the least bit stupid. And I clearly got the sense that he knows what he’s talking about and that he was well aware of the type of movie he was making, and why, and how. This much I knew: Dante’s Divine Comedy detailed a soul’s journey toward God, which might also be considered true of John’s movie, sort of. So, it’s not a completely absurd comparison to make. Although that is not the real point. The real point is below (for those who are interested in a little historical literature lesson, which I just learned myself).
Here’s the deal: Dante called his dramatic poem a comedy because there were only two “genres” back then; in the ancient world, all literature was classified as High (tragedy) or Low (comedy). And according to what the internet tells me, the real key was the type of language used. Tragedy was written in the High style, using the language of the Roman Empire and the Catholic Church – Latin. And they were usually epics with a structured progression into a tragic end. Thus, Latin and tragedy were the ideal combination for true – and serious – poetic expression. Whereas the Low style (comedy) was written with common vernacular and usually ended happily. So, Dante technically could not call his epic dramatic poem a tragedy, even though it contained a structured progression to a tragic end and did not end happily. If he didn’t write in Latin, it was by definition a comedy. If we stop here, then John is playing dodge ball and not answering my question with sincerity (because unlike Dante, he has a full spectrum of genres with which to identify).
Dante’s Inferno
However, there is more: Some academics theorize that Dante chose to title his epic dramatic poem a comedy, not because he couldn’t write in Latin, but in an intentional attempt to transcend the notions of High and Low styles and to challenge the belief that vernacular was incapable of true and serious poetic expression. Dante was saying, by calling his epic a comedy, that poetic expression is not confined to parameters of a categorical language.Dante was making a point that mankind is naturally poetic and every man expresses themselves creatively as they etch their unique path through life with their choices.
So, Dante wrote using his native Tuscan dialect and created one of the single greatest literary feats in history, speaking to all peoples through this revered masterpiece, which was written in the language of the common man, with the intensity of a literary genius, uniting humanity through the commonality of Death (not High language). That’s some heavy shit. But, if we agree that John Maringouin is one Hell of an intellectual, which he just might be (despite this seemingly terrible horror flick), then our director was answering in full earnestness.
John knew what he was saying. He was saying that his movie spoke in a “common vernacular” (as in phantasmagoric trippy gonzo filmmaking) and … even though we get Death at the ending, the larger point is the style of “language,” which justifies calling it a comedy. To some extent at least, the medium is the message, and even shaky-cam bat-shit-crazy horror can be a masterpiece of filmmaking and human expression. So be it John. I totally give you the Win on that point. Although, if so, I think you need to stop keeping the tragic end a secret; go full Dante. The idea of spoilers are for lessor thinkers.
Of course, The Divine Comedy had three parts, only the first one being the Hellish Inferno. So, I might pose another question to John: Should we expect two more movies to flesh out the trilogy? I won’t press that point. The Win still totally goes to John, especially considering the rest of the interview.]
HH: It’s just that I was so freaked out and scared by it, and I was even haunted by the darkness later, so it’s hard for me to wrap my head around “comedy.”
JM: Well. I love that you felt that. That’s great. I wish it were more of a horror movie. I love horror. I love the genre. I’m glad that you reacted to it that way.
HH: When you say you love horror, what is it you like about horror? What appeals to you about it?
“I have a problem with generic cinematic cuteness.” – Maringouin
JM: Anything that’s psychological – very dark psychology, or emotional terrorism, like that.
HH: Yes, that is how I felt during this movie. That’s not what you were going for? I know I’m not your target audience.
JM: I hope it appeals to a wide audience. I hope it doesn’t fit into any one genre, really. I think it’s an action movie. I think it’s a thriller. It’s also got some documentary elements. And maybe horror. I love that it had such an intense effect on you.
HH: Well, we can move on and talk about the politics. Obviously there is a socio political component.
JM: Yeah, I think that’s in the background. But to me it’s funny. Ya know, the whole thing is just funny. Really. But I can understand how some of it comes off as being a little strange. (Very strange claim, indeed, calling this nightmare funny, IMHO, but… I believe he means it.)
HH: Okay, this is my other issue with the movie. There were no likeable characters.
JM: That’s my favorite thing about it! I don’t really like movies with likable people. Not that I root for bad guys. But I root for…bad characters, I mean I want to see guys that are grimy and sleazy…
HH: You want to see them succeed at being bad?
JM: I have a problem with generic cinematic cuteness. I want you to be able to see the pores in the noses of my characters. And also just see their worst sides.
HH: When I first thought of writing about this movie, I thought I might call it a post-apocalyptic dystopia, except there was no real apocalypse; it’s as if humanity is the apocalypse. Everyone is everyone else’s worst enemy. Do you think people are inherently evil?
EIther way, it’s interesting as Hell, literally and figuratively.
JM: No, I don’t. I think people are inherently complicated. And I certainly think the film is inspired by a sense of crisis – a global crisis that is not necessarily … The question is, is it real or imagined? Is it something that the media is pushing forward? Is it a mass hallucination?
HH: You call it a morality tale…
JM: I didn’t call it a morality tale!
HH: Well, your PR guys did! It’s in the first line of the synopsis. (He laughs.) What’s the moral?
JM: I guess it’s a tale of morality in that we’re dealing with characters that have no morality. I think it’s morally ambiguous.
HH: So there is no moral to the story? Are we supposed to take some message away? Is it just “Life sucks and then you die”?
JM: There’s plenty to take away. But it definitely wasn’t intended as a lesson. I hope that you’re left with a feeling of… great mystery. (?)
HH: (Here is where I introduce the idea of the Pinocchio story. I will spare the reader my repeating myself, from above. But I explain how I came to think of the Pinocchio story and how amazed I was to find so many similarities. JM listens intently. He seems fascinated, but he insists he was completely unaware of any correlations.) So, Pinocchio was in no way an inspiration for your movie?
Pinocchio book illustration
JM: Well, I think maybe whatever archetype Pinocchio is based on might have influenced me… some universal dynamic that both stories share.
HH: You know, Pinocchio was written during the beginning of the industrial revolution in Italy. Middle class values of discipline and hard work were becoming more important. And your story takes place, sort of…
JM: Yeah, it’s the industrial revolution for China. So that’s interesting, that parallel. Definitely. Although, it’s not so much about the Chinese culture as Americans reacting to it. There’s a gold-rush mentality. Americans think they can just go to China and get rich just by being an American in China. It’s about vulture capitalism; the characters are driven by a money-for-nothing mentality.
HH: Well, Pinocchio also suffers from laziness and is warped by the idea of free stuff that turns out not to be free. But he is driven by a big ambition. He has a big wish to be real boy. What is Jimmy’s wish?
JM: I don’t think even he knows what he wants except that he’s got this desire to… do what most Americans think they should be doing.. to get ahead …to kind of be somebody. And he finds that sort of American dream lacking. So he goes to look for it in China.
HH: You said he wants to be somebody.
JM: Yeah, he wants to be a real person.
HH: Real person/real boy.
JM: Right.
HH: And he is tricked by false friends, like Pinocchio, and robbed, and exploited, and humiliated and…
JM: Yes, that’s another big similarity. That’s interesting. (laughs) After this I will need to go look up that story.
Pinocchio with false friends, fox and cat
HH: Actually, there are a few other amazing similarities. Pinocchio has these gold coins, and his false friends tell him that if he plants them in a certain place and leaves them overnight, they will grow into a tree full of gold coins.
JM: And Jimmy has bitcoins! And he is being told they will grow into a tree of more money, but they are stolen from him. Wow.
HH: And you know how Jimmy is reduced to working as an “American model” for money, except he never gets paid? They essentially enslave him and force him to put on a wig and go out and sing and perform, against his will? The same thing happens to Pinocchio; he is bought and sold like a slave and forced to perform against his will. But what strikes me the most is that they both are forced to wear a ridiculous wig.
Ghostbox Cowboy poster
JM: It’s all about transformation. (laughs again)
HH: And Pinocchio gets turned into a donkey and you have a whole thing about “swamp donkeys,” which are not exactly the same thing, but still it’s … a coincidence.
JM: Well, our swamp donkeys are kind of wheeling dealing middle men – who, if anything, turn other people into dumb animals.
HH: Well, in Pinocchio, the guy who turns kids into donkeys ends up as a donkey himself, so… just saying. It’s just weird.
JM: (laughs) Yeah, it is weird.
I guess it’s true what they say: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. In response to failure, General Magic went for the stronger and Ghostbox Cowboy goes for the kill.
HH: Okay, so for Pinocchio it’s a morality tale. He acts like a jack-ass and he is literally turned into a jackass. You don’t think there is a similar lesson in that Jimmy acts like a stupid American and so he is turned into this grotesque cartoon of a stupid American – with the blonde wig and fake tan and big white teeth?
JM: Well, that definitely happens to him. I just don’t know if he learns any lesson from it. He’s chasing an ideal of … the tech entrepreneur … this sort of new masculinity.
HH: So he wants to be a NEW kind of real man?
Ghostbox Cowboy, swamp donkeys
JM: This new masculinity, as I call it, is embodied by Elon Musk. And those sort of guys… everyone is sort of chasing… they’ve been evangelized by Tim Ferriss and his idea of The Four-Hour Work Week, where if you work for a living, you’re a loser. It’s like they all aim to be an alpha male who has his whole life outsourced. His products are made in the third world and his secretary is in Pakistan and everybody works for pennies an hour, but he’s riding a jet ski and works four hours a week — this sort of new capitalist, which I feel is everything that is wrong with the world.
I was fascinated by characters who were trying but failing at this modern vulture capitalism.
HH: Okay, so have you heard about this other movie that is at Tribeca, called General Magic? It’s about a group of people who had grand ambitions about changing the world with their technological invention, which was essentially the iPhone but way before its time; there wasn’t even internet yet. This is a true story; it’s a documentary. So these people invested everything, money as well as heart and soul, in this venture and then failed spectacularly, in public, and lost everything, and were totally humiliated, and there were even elements of betrayal in the story too. And it’s also about how they sold this tremendous idea before they really had the product. The had an IPO on the stock market and everything fell apart. They failed in a huge way at big-time capitalism.
General Magic landscape contemplates future, after failure
JM: Yeah, I know about that story.
HH: BUT… the movie shows that ultimately each of these people went on to do great things with their lives. The story of the movie actually challenges our ideas of what failure is and how we define it and respond to it. It’s about how failure is not the end. What do you think about that in terms of your characters who are failing?
JM: I think that is different in some very significant ways. I mean, yes they were trying to make it big in the tech boom, but … those guys in General Magic were truly working hard. They were building something. Those guys were at the beginning of creating this fantasy… this fantasy that outsiders had of magical success and easy money.
(Well, I guess it’s true what they say: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. In response to failure, General Magic went for the stronger and Ghostcowboy goes for the kill.)
JM: But it’s a very different scene now. My story isn’t history; it’s current. It came from my own life, and things I saw.
HH: Tell me.
JM: I live in San Francisco where there’s nothing going on now but tech. And I’d been working a day gig shooting commercials for product videos for Apple Store products.
HH: The General Magic movie is about Apple products, just btw.
JM: (laughs) Yes, but that was early 90’s, right? It’s the preceding generation to my characters.
HH: Okay, so you were working on this commercial gig…
JM: Well, I was able to sort of see behind the curtain of that world, and everything pointed to a really murky, absurd underworld behind it and it seemed to have a real complexity of fraud and hijinks that I thought would make a really great crime film. So, that’s where I was coming from. And all roads pointed to China. I’d heard a ton of chatter about it being a land of dreams where all you had to do was show up and you’d be rich just for being a westerner. For Silicon Valley folks, Shenzhen was the new frontier – a world that pays you just to show up and be a fuck-up.
Jimmy Van Horn in Shenzhen
HH: Just as a sidebar: Your depiction of Shenzhen was incredible. You really shot on location, right? How did you manage that?
JM: Yeah, we shot there. We shot the street scenes kind of guerilla-style. But the China in the film comes very much from the character’s romantic illusions of it. It starts out as this fantastical place but then its dark side emerges slowly.
HH: Which brings us back to Pinocchio. You know, there was this one place where Pinocchio went that was called the City of Catchfools. That’s like the perfect name for the city in your movie.
JM: Ha! Yes, it is. And it’s a very warped reality. Because you’re talking about a POV story. It’s a POV movie for sure. You’re seeing through the eyes of a person who kind of ignores what’s in front of him and plugs in assumptions.
HH: Is that what made it feel so terrifying for me? It was definitely an askew perspective in what looked like a very true-to-life world, and it was so… completely alienating. You communicated that visually in an astounding way.
JM: I’ve had a few personal experiences with dislocation and disassociations. I believe our world is being converted daily into a new place, which isn’t tied to the past or to any kind of identity. There’s a kind of somatic feel. There’s a comfort in that and also a terror. There are places where you feel you can lose your soul. Empty parking lots. Brand new buildings, unfinished. Strip malls.
HH: Ah! See, you admitted terror.
Ghostbox Cowboy, place where you can lose your soul
JM: To quote Housman: “I, a stranger and afraid, in a world I never made.” (He’s quoting Housman? Housman the English scholar and poet who died in 1936? Oh yeah, this guy is a big-time intellectual. Who’d have guessed it? He looks like a regular dumb jock.)
HH: Okay, so the movie had a totally weird and creepy atmosphere. That I totally get. And that actually was kind of cool – the cinematography. And I’m sure that’s a whole different subject for a different interview. But the characters… what part of your brain did they come from?
JM: Some of those guys were real guys, playing themselves. “The Specialist” lives and works in China and doesn’t want his name revealed. There was a true documentary aspect to the movie.
HH: But Jimmy was fictional, right?
JM: Fictional in my movie, yes, but guys just like him are plentiful.
HH: So, Jimmy is just a fake wanna-be big-shot who can only drop into China and fuck up? He starts and ends as a wanna-be big-shot who can’t make it happen? His character is static? He doesn’t learn or change? And that’s why he has that tragic end?
JM: Well, he changes. He definitely evolves through the film. He changes from an impenetrable cocky personality into a much more vulnerable and real person. In fact, the very moment that he realizes that he’s become real is the moment that he makes his big decision – at the very end.
HH: Ah, so in his case, he becomes real and it kills him.
JM: Well, Jimmy has a choice. He can become a real person, live as a real person, or stick to his… sort of…entitlement mindset, which is kind of the point – he is an American that… he doesn’t …
HH: Got it. (Okay. So I’ve spoiled part of the ending, but I won’t spoil the truly fascinating details about his death. It’s one of the most bizarre scenes ever. And it’s attached to this story that is told earlier in the movie… this incredible, long, convoluted, kind of shaggy dog story, which is beyond strange, and I guess it’s sort of comic when we first hear it, but it comes back at the end and is a key part of this tragedy – this tragic/comic death at the end.)
And for all the grotesqueness and horror and misery, and the greed and lust and selfishness (it really is the full litany of biblical sins)… despite all the that, and no one is a good or even a likeable character (but I must say, they are plenty colorful and peculiar), despite kind of loathing this man, I did feel for him at the end. Maybe I didn’t feel sympathy. But I felt his trauma. I felt his pain. I felt his shame and hopelessness. It’s a vary painful movie to watch. Or, at least it was for me. I guess if you’re more like John, you will think it’s hilarious. Either way, it’s interesting as Hell (literally and figuratively). Definitely get some booze and download this movie, wherever it ends up. You’ll have lots to talk about. It will certainly fill your entire evening, and maybe the next day too.
p.s. This is a Q&A I got from the press notes, but I think it’s something that an audience might wonder (as I did), so here it is:
Q: The American characters have a lot of “Trumpian” qualities – the “folksy” business talk, the love of the “deal,” the blonde wigs, fake tans and fascination with China. Was this planned or a semi-documentary reality captured in the process of shooting?
A: The Americans with tans and blonde wigs were shot in the summer of 2015, before Trump was really a thing. I had this idea of a middle-aged, bald con-man trying to appear young to fit into Shenzhen’s “under 30” culture. Nothing to do with politics. But when we got back to the U.S. after shooting…it instantly felt eerie and premonitory.
Mat Delman, at IonCinema, writes an excellent review of Ghostbox Cowboy, and he manages to explain some of the fascinating plot details that I left out. He also beautifully captures the spirit of the film, calling it, in his review title, a “No-Frills Pynchonian Mind-blowing Masterpiece.” If this film interests you, you should check it out:
Ugh. I have an ailing and excruciatingly painful knee, so yesterday I skipped my planned schedule of Tribeca Film Festival press screenings, but I forced myself to schlep out to see the “can’t-miss” screening of Blue Night, starring Sarah Jessica Parker, and featuring Common, Jacqueline Bisset, and Renee Zellweger. It is literally the only movie I have walked out of since watching going-on-80 Tribeca2018 films. And I have a slew of excellent films to write about, which merit my coverage, and which I should be writing about right now, but sometimes it is easier to write about the bad movies than the good ones. This is a bad one. Save your money. Actually, forget the money; save your time. I am writing about Blue Night now because I am so annoyed that it wasted my precious time (and further inflamed my painful knee) during this festival full of truly extraordinary films. Sheesh. I feel scammed, and I didn’t even pay.
“Most gratuitous shot in this gratuitous movie: the close-up of the shopping bag as Vivienne sits in the back seat of the car – major foreshadowing!”
This movie helps to prove my cynical rule of thumb about film festivals: Skip the movies with the big names attached. They are there either because they paid to be part of the prestigious festival, as advertising, or because festival management chose them for their crowd-drawing potential. For the festival, they are there to pay for all the small movies that won’t make money or draw crowds. The small movies are there because they earned their way through the intensely competitive juried film-selection process. If you’ve made a film about an unappealing subject (war refugees, or ivory poaching, or human trafficking and prostitution), and you haven’t even managed to cast James Franco in it, you must be an extremely talented filmmaker to get into this Festival. So, movie watchers out there: Go see the movies you think you don’t want to see; that is where you will find the surprise greats.
But for the record, I feel the need to state that this year, O.G., starring Jeffery Wright, absolutely broke that rule; as my Tribeca Curtain-Raiser article declared, O.G. is actually Best of Fest – an impressive work of filmmaking and storytelling and top-notch acting. Never say never; sometimes the big films are worth watching. Although, still, you will get a chance to see that when it gets a national release into movie theaters (which it certainly will), so better to spend your time at Tribeca seeing the small films that may disappear after the Festival.
But back to Blue Night: It’s hard to choose which was worse – the acting or the script or the directing. Sarah Jessica Parker, as Vivienne the lounge singer with a life in which no one truly cares about her, tries way too hard to show us without telling us how distraught she is over her very-bad-news medical diagnosis. I kept thinking, “Please give her a line to say, so she stops desperately gesticulating in order to make us believe she believes she really might die.” And she is told that she might lose her singing voice due to the surgery, which would be horrible because her music is her life (cliché intended). Again, it would have been preferable to just be told this information, but instead we are forced to listen to her sing an entire Rufus Wainwright song, after which the audience might feel as if they are going to die before Vivienne does. (Question for Vivienne’s doctor: Might the surgery change her voice for the better? That could be the upside for the entire problem. Just a thought.)
Sarah Jessica Parker, in Sex and the CIty
Maybe director Fabien Constant thought that casting Jacqueline Bisset in his movie, and having her speak French, would be enough to make it an “art film,” rather than the tiresome melodrama that it is. Sarah Jessica Parker was pleasant enough to watch in the Sex and the City series, when she was wearing amusing outfits and beautiful shoes, and narrating the story with well-written essays that her character supposedly would publish in her weekly newspaper column. Those essays were the main reason I sometimes watched the show; they were often clever and usually well worded at least. This movie, however, has nothing well-worded, or well-acted. Okay, I will say “nearly nothing,” giving it the benefit of the doubt that something brilliant happened in the last half hour that I missed.
Common is in it, playing himself named someone else. Common also makes an appearance in another Tribeca2018 film, All About Nina, in which he also plays himself not playing himself, but in that case he seems more successful in his endeavor, maybe just because he is surrounded by a much better movie. And then there is Renee Zellweger. Oy. This is what has become of Renee Zellweger?! She is playing second fiddle to SJP? As our President likes to say – Sad. Not that I ever thought of her as an A-list actress, but still, seeing her play one of Carrie Bradshaw’s girlfriends – and throw herself into the role as if this were her last chance to prove she can act – was perhaps more upsetting than Vivienne’s medical situation.
Helen playing her tiny violin for Vivienne
And hey, I also live a selfish, lonely New York existence and have no one to list as my emergency contact on my medical forms, but still I felt no sympathy for this character. And I don’t even get to travel the world with my band and fuck my drummer. And she also must endure an overbearing mother? Quelle horreur!
Then, Vivienne leaves her new dress in a Lyft car. Most gratuitous shot in this gratuitous movie: the close-up of the shopping bag as Vivienne sits in the back seat of the car – major foreshadowing! I also have left an article of clothing in an Uber car (a mere glove, not a zillion dollar dress), but when the driver was kind enough to drive back and return it to me, I tipped him (even when he said it wasn’t necessary), as any decent person and real New Yorker would do. And don’t tell me that Vivienne is excused for this oversight because she has just learned that she may have a fatal medical condition; if she is calm enough to go dress shopping, she is calm enough to tip her driver.
Ain’t nobody got time for that, SJP!
I highly suspect that this Lyft driver is going to re-enter the story, as way too much screen time was given to him otherwise, but that would only make matters worse, and more hackneyed. Vivienne has no one but a rude Lyft driver will whom to share her anguish? Poor poor Vivienne. Are they going to help each other discover the true meaning of life? Save it for Hallmark. Time to go home and ice my knee.
p.s. I wrote an article titled Top Ten TFF2018 Mother-Daughter Movies, and in it I expressed amazement at how each film managed to depict a distinct and thoughtful and non-obvious portrayal of that archetypal relationship. Blue Night breaks that winning streak. This mother-daughter duo is the ultimate cliché.
Edward Albee is smiling in his grave. He is thinking to himself “You see, they will never forget me, but they also will never surpass me.” He is thinking about the new film, Egg, directed by Marianna Palka and written by Risa Mickenberg, which recently premiered at Tribeca Film Festival 2018. Albee was notoriously (and aggressively) protective of his work. He didn’t like directors inserting their own ideas into his carefully crafted dialogue or layering their notions on top of his brilliantly depicted themes.
“Egg matches Albee and raises him one.”
Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, film
But still, I think Albee might be pleased with this new movie, which is very much an homage to Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf (which was made into an Oscar-winning movie in 1966, directed by Mike Nichols and starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, and selected in 2013 for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.”). Egg gives that now-classic play a fresh re-imagining for modern times and modern relationships between men and women. Yes, Albee was modern back in 1962, but today, more than 50 years later, there is a new modern.
Some things never change – such as the complexities of romantic/sexual relationships and the dangerous emotional games that couples play. And if one is going to delve into that territory with any seriousness (or any sharply incisive satire), one cannot ignore Albee. And Palka and Mickenberg model their film after his in just the right ways and go their own way on just the right issues. And yes, I mean issues; this is a movie that significantly examines real-life, relevant issues, such as pregnancy, abortion, child-birth, adoption, surrogate mothers, and parenting. It’s not just a drama. Reinforcing this Albee comparison even further is the fact that Virginia Woolf also did touch on the subject of pregnancy and dead babies, but it kept the discussion mysterious. Perhaps it was just too socially unacceptable to bring those subjects into full view back in ’62, but Egg goes all in; in this way at least, Egg matches Albee and raises him one, bringing maternal and women’s issues out of the shadows. (Insert your own joke about needing to crack some eggs to make an omelette.)
Christina Hendricks and Alysia Reiner at Tribeca
Albee is known to have said that he wanted his plays to be “useful, not merely decorative.” That is one reason he might appreciate Egg, which manages to use Albee’s magnificent plot structure and style as an arena for a more candid discussion of bigger issues than he was able to debate.
It’s interesting to note that Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf won the Tony Award for Best Play in 1963, and it was also selected for the 1963 Pulitzer Prize for Drama by that year’s jury. However, the award’s advisory board – the trustees of Columbia University – objected to the play’s then-controversial use of profanity and sexual themes, and overruled the jury, awarding NO Pulitzer Prize for Drama at all in 1963. Ridiculous! You see – there really is a new modern in today’s day.
Egg is a provocative and unflinching look at two couples and a surrogate; it lays bare the complications, contradictions, heartbreak, and absurdities implicit in how we think about motherhood (and sexuality). It contains a virile dose of Virginia-esque viciousness, but not a memorable amount of obscenity, at least by today’s standards. If weighed on a balance scale, Egg would teeter between bitterness and hopefulness, whereas that Pulitzer committee might say Woolf balanced bitterness only with drunkenness. Yes, there is drunkenness in Egg as well. And – no worries – it will never come close to being considered for a Pulitzer, but it is definitely worth your watching it.
One way in which the Palka-Mickenberg team prove their true understanding of the depth of Albee, is that, despite all the nastiness and cutting dialogue, you see in this film, as you do in his play, an immense sympathy for the characters. They may or may not truly love each other, but the filmmakers love them, and you will feel a connection to them too – each of them in their very different ways. There was more than one moment when I felt pride when a character stood up and defended, and then other moments when I felt hurt when another character was insulted or rejected, and those moments were not the ones I might have expected. You also may have your assumed allegiances challenged. These characters are each strong and weak and funny and angry and relatable. Many films at Tribeca are wonderful for the way they take you into entirely new worlds and expose you to the great unknown. This film is wonderful for the way it takes you into yourself and exposes you to your own contradictions and emotions.
“Egg has its own ways of winning and losing.”
Tina (Alysia Reiner) and Karen (Christina Hendricks) were art school frenemies whose paths diverged after college. Tina became a passionate, successful conceptual artist, while Karen sacrificed a career in art in order to become a wife and mother. When Karen—eight months pregnant—and her wealthy husband, Don, make a trip to New York City, Tina and her partner Wayne invite the couple over to their bohemian loft for dinner. Things quickly move from awkward to explosive when Tina announces her newest art project – a study of mothers and babies, which has already been commissioned by the prestigious New Museum in New York, and the core of that artistic work will be a real-life performance piece in which Tina and Wayne become parents via surrogate. Stoking the fire, Tina and Wayne’s young, beautiful surrogate Kiki (Anna Camp) drops by unexpectedly, and the five-some spend the rest of the evening quarrelling about the pressures of motherhood – why and how we choose it, revere it, and sometimes forgo it.
The cast of Egg, at Tribeca
But let’s not forget about relationships. Motherhood fuels this fire, but the flames crackle with tension between man and wife, boyfriend and girlfriend, married man and woman-on-the-side, egg-mother and surrogate-mother, and also between girlfriends. This is truly the way in which Egg differentiates itself from Woolf; the dynamics here give dimension to the new complexities and questions of today’s modern American society. People still struggle with reality vs illusion, but what we wish for, what we cherish as memories, and the ways in which we choose to delude ourselves, are in many ways unique to our times. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf stands as an opponent of the idea of a perfect American family and societal expectations, as it attacks the false optimism and myopic confidence of modern society in 1962. And Egg stands as an opponent of the idea of a perfect American family and societal expectations, as it attacks the false optimism and myopic confidence of modern society in 2018. And they are two very different movies.
Egg takes much of its sturdy three-act structure from Virginia Woolf as well, and it paces itself perfectly, as cracks in relationships reveal themselves, danger intensifies, and allegiances shift. But these relationships are in no way copies of Albee’s. In fact, much has been made of the way in which Albee seemed to portray George as weak and bullied by Martha, but in the end… he’s the last man standing. I will not reveal who is the last person standing in Egg, but it did manage to surprise me. It will leave you contemplating. Beyond all the ways in which this film parallels Albee’s classic tale, Egg is its own story, and it has its own power struggles and its own ways of winning and losing.
Of the 96 Tribeca Film Festival 2018 feature films, 46% of them are directed by women, the highest percentage in the Festival’s history. And there are 28 female-centric feature films. While the unofficial theme of TFF2017 might have been “Middle-East War Films (with a special focus on ISIS movies),” the TFF2018 unofficial theme seems to be “By and About Women.” #TribecaToo (ha). But no, these are largely not films about abuse or harassment (although there are a select few that do indeed brilliantly address those issues — Blowin’ Up and Netizens at the top of that list). But what struck me as I was watching my way through this year’s screenings is how many films deal specifically with the mother-daughter relationship. Some make that relationship the core subject of the film and others get around to that topic tangentially, and sometimes as an insightful way to end a story — giving context and emotional resonance to the rest of the film. Amazingly, none of these depictions seems clichéd or obvious or quite like any of the others. They each seem entirely unique and specific, while also touching on that archetypal dynamic that is central to every woman’s life.
If Freud were to weigh in, I guess he would say that we all are essentially talking about or to our mothers all the time. That may be true. In these films, we see the myriad of ways that our mothers were and remain key elements of our lives. So, here is a list of TFF2018 films with Mother-Daughter Themes:
Stop the Presses
After I wrote this article, I saw the movie, Egg, which is a sort of homage to Edward Albee’s darkly satirical Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, while also directly examining issues of pregnancy, abortion, child-birth, adoption, surrogate mothers, and parenting. Obviously, it cannot be left out of this list. Egg is a provocative and unflinching look at two couples and a surrogate; it lays bare the complications, contradictions, heartbreak, and absurdities implicit in how we think about motherhood. Helen Highly recommends it. Click here to read my full review of Egg.
On the windswept coast of Sardinia, two women compete for the affections of 10-year old Vittoria. The child struggles to develop and understand her connections to both her troubled, alcoholic birth mother and her doting, overly-protective adoptive mother. The film poignantly displays just how immensely a girl will always want her mother. Director Bispuri holds nothing back – not the horrific cruelty nor improbable joy, not the selfishness nor selflessness that takes place between these three female characters.
In Spain, after Anabel hosts an opulent dinner, she is confronted by Chiara, the daughter she abandoned decades earlier. Chiara arrives with just one request — that she and her mother spend ten days together in a remote country cabin. This is a poetic study of maternal feelings wrapped in a suspenseful and unpredictable story. Not a cliché within miles and miles.
Christmas Island, Australia is home to one of the largest land migrations on earth — that of forty million crabs journeying from jungle to sea. But the jungle holds another secret — a high-security facility that indefinitely, and brutally, holds individuals seeking asylum. Meanwhile, local islanders carry out “hungry ghost” rituals for those who died on the island without receiving proper burial. In this haunting documentary tale, a trauma-therapist who works with inmates at the detention center also works to raise her two daughters with a semblance of understanding, yet without burdening them with the heavy cloud of suffering that hangs over the mysterious island.
Teenage Lana is languishing in her run-down hometown on Israel’s north coast — until an older, attractive writer arrives with tales of a mermaid sighting off the shore of the declining resort town, with the potential to change everything. Lana has been rebelling against her mother, who is struggling to keep her beach-front café from going bankrupt, and begrudgingly looking after her younger cousin. The convergence of events ultimately brings these female characters together in a boat on a stormy sea, at night, with an uncertain outcome. This is a coming-of-age tale like none other — told with deft elegance and nonchalant magic.
The experience of Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin’s whirlwind romance with the tempestuous poet Percy Shelley is a story that led her to create one of the most enduring works of Gothic literature – Frankenstein. While just 17 years old, Godwin runs away with Shelley, in a romantic crusade that turns ugly once she becomes pregnant with their child, who will soon die. Mary is haunted by the history of her own mother, who also had a passionate and defiant past, and who died soon after her birth. This literary tale reveals little-known details about this true story that is as much about mothers and daughters and abandonment as it is about monsters in the dark.
Credited with incubating East-Coast Hip Hop and West-Coast Rap, America’s roller rinks have long been bastions of regional African-American culture, music, and dance. As rinks shutter across the country, a community of thousands battle in a racially charged environment to save an underground subculture – one that has remained undiscovered by the mainstream for generations. In this documentary that is both celebratory and sad, one of those who fights to maintain this multi=generational phenomenon is a single mother, living in the ghetto, who uses roller skating as a way to entertain her kids and keep them out of trouble. As access to dance-night at the roller rink becomes increasingly distant and difficult to find, this mother desperately travels farther and farther in order to bring her children to this experience that she believes might save their souls and their lives.
Two women, jaded by dishonest and broken relationships, make a pact to spend 24 uninterrupted hours together, having sex on the hour. This romantic, young-at-heart experiment intends to create a new form of intimacy, but it doesn’t quite go as planned. Among the upsets is the arrival of one young woman’s mother, who has an unexpected impact on the mood of the adventure and on the way these women begin to understand each other differently. In just a few potent scenes, we see that mother-daughter relationships are not always what we think they are, especially as seen by outsiders.
Celebrated Chinese couturier Guo Pei is perhaps best known for designing the extravagant and intricate, gold gown that Rihanna wore to the Met Ball in 2015. But Guo’s quest to be recognized by the gatekeepers of Paris haute couture goes beyond the red carpet and taps into global power dynamics and the perpetual tension between art and commerce. In between the glamorous and grueling scenes of this gorgeous documentary, we are told that Guo Pei learned embroidery from her grandmother. And woven into this movie like one thin golden thread is the relationship between Guo Pei and her traditional Chinese mother, who is virtually blind and has not been able to see any of her daughter’s masterful creations, nor understand most of what Pei is so ambitiously pursuing. The story of Pei’s ambitions has its own fascinating ending, but the film itself ends with mother and daughter embracing and crying. This is a fashion film, first and foremost, but the underlying message is “Never forget your mother.”
Journalist Assia Boundaoui directed, wrote, and stars in this revelatory documentary film that also features her family and her neighbors. Assia sets out to investigate long-brewing rumors that her quiet, predominantly Arab-American neighborhood outside of Chicago was being monitored by the FBI (starting well before 9/11), and in the process she exposes a surveillance program on a scale no one could have imagined. This stunning film explores the way that paranoia is an effective tool of control; the fear created by of an invisible watcher who sees you without your being able to see them has managed to silence the outrage of this abused community. As part of her work to unearth the truth, Assia goes on a mission to get her neighbors to sign a request to receive government information that has been collected about them, and she is met with surprising resistance. She is dismissed, shunned and even threatened. This is an important film about government abuse of power, and still it rests on a platform built from family; without the support of her mother, and the words, “I am proud of what you are doing,” Assia likely would not have persevered and succeeded in making this movie.
In this extremely odd but charming Swedish social comedy, local officials, in a bid to lure a superstore to their quiet hamlet, set out producing a promotional video about their town, only to find themselves disrupted at every turn by two female teens making their own rival film. Amateurs is a weird movie, and for me it was mostly compelling as an example of how various people “self-report” — how people go about telling their own stories. But another memorable aspect was the relationship each of the teenage filmmaking girls has with her mother. One mother is progressive and supportive of her daughter’s creativity, while the other is a “lower-class” immigrant who is more driven by fear and the desire to fit in and not make trouble. The bonds of teen friendship being what they are, the two girls do prevail in making their movie, but it is definitely worth noting the ways in which their different mothers make their marks on their daughters and influence their behaviors and perspectives — and not always in the most expected ways. This is a truly strange movie that feels long and is easy to lose patience with, but I did sit through it, and in the end the film laughs at you for staying with it, as you laugh along with the girls and the crazy-long movie they have made.
So, there ya go — Top Ten Mother-Daughter movies. But truly, these are only ten of the many-more Tribeca films that include this theme. I have not yet seen all the Tribeca films, so I cannot truly say that these are the actual best ten. But they are all worth a couple hours of your life, and definitely worth considering in terms of this timeless, symbolic, and resonant relationship.
It’s Spring in New York – the time for lovers…
of film, and narrative media of all kinds. The city’s cultural-cutting-edge gem, Tribeca Film Festival, takes place April 18 -29 and in keeping with its passion for What’s Next, this year’s 17th annual festival includes not only 99 Feature Films and 55 Short Films (from 39 countries), but also 35 Immersive (virtual reality) Experiences, 21 Tribeca TV presentations, 21 Tribeca Talks, and even Tribeca Games. If you’ve given up going to the movies and opted for streaming media in the comfort of your own home, this is the time to get off the couch and get with this extraordinary program. TFF is one of the few places you can still go to be surprised, provoked and inspired. It’s one of the few places you can go to feel your heart beat in synchrony with others who love what you love. But that’s not all.
Here is why Helen Highly recommends the TFF: Running through a field of bright and beautiful butterflies, you get a chance to catch-and-release a magical, fluttering experience that will soon fly away, never to be seen again. Tribeca is a true film festival; this is where new films and new media go to find distributers. Only at a festival such as Tribeca will you have the chance to see that brilliant little indie film or that gorgeous foreign film that will NOT find a distributer and after its brief few showings in incredibly-lucky NYC will return to its remote country of origin or its can on the shelf of unfunded films; it will NOT be coming anytime soon to a theater near you (and not even to your streaming library).
Not everything great gets picked up; distributers buy what they think will be profitable or what will reach their target market, or… who knows? But I can guarantee you that some of the most precious cinematic experiences and access to some of the most startling and thrilling and hilarious and profound and revelatory new worlds will be found only during this brief window of time – April 18 – 29 at TFF2018.
The press has been privileged to attend advance screenings of many of this year’s films, but our critical reviews are “under embargo” until the movie opens to the public. So, I am offering my just-guessing (wink-wink) guide to movies that Helen Highly recommends at TFF2018, organized by category:
Best of Fest
This is simply the best movie I’ve seen so far. (Sorry, I gotta say it.) A prison movie – not even a subject that would normally interest me, but… a great film is a great film. I will call this Shawshank Redemption of the new millennium. The thing is, this will definitely get a full, national release, so if you don’t see it now, you will get another chance. However, the unique thing the festival can offer is the documentary that was made as part of the research phase of the narrative film, which is an ideal companion piece. It’s a fascinating story, which Nick Paumgarten at the New Yorker details here. Sometimes raw and violent, sometimes beautiful and philosophical, this film ultimately is a slow-burn thriller. It’s got something for everyone:
Jeffrey Wright in O.G.
O.G.
Jeffrey Wright delivers a powerful performance as a maximum-security prison inmate named Louis, who, 24 years after committing a violent crime as a young man, finds himself on the cusp of release from prison, facing an uncertain future on the outside. He encounters Beech, a newly incarcerated young man who echoes Louis’ former self, and stirs instincts that had long been buried beneath his tough exterior. Beech badly needs a friend, although that friendship is not without dangerous complications.
Madeleine Sackler’s film is a taut prison drama that follows the seemingly mundane countdown of days before Louis’s release, until, almost imperceptibly, it transforms into a thriller, suddenly crackling with intensity. Filmed on location in an actual maximum-security prison with inmates participating as actors, the film lays bare, with remarkable realism, the very specific complexities of existing as an incarcerated man in America. Sackler’s background as an esteemed documentarian influences her first fiction film, a portrait of a proud yet regretful soul at a crossroads. This is a heart-pounding, suspenseful drama as much as it is an existential contemplation. O.G. is now available for download on HBO.
O.G. operates on many levels, as only the best films do. Itscompanion piece adds to the richness of this story:
It’s a Hard Truth, Ain’t It
This is an affecting and enlightening glimpse at the stories of thirteen incarcerated men imprisoned at the Pendelton Correctional Facility in Indiana. Over a weeklong workshop inside the prison, filmmaker Madeleine Sackler introduces the inmates to the art of filmmaking. She provides them with camera equipment so that they can interview each other, offering them a platform to tell their own stories. Sackler is also at Tribeca this year with O.G., a drama inspired by the work she did on this documentary.
In their testimonial projects, the men candidly share their personal histories and provide accounts of the crimes they’ve committed. Their stories are visualized through animated sequences, illustrated by Yoni Goodman, of Waltz with Bashir, providing the viewer with remarkable access into their inner worlds. The result is an insightful and vivid collection of individual experiences that elucidate the shared narratives of the 2.2 million people currently in prison in the United States.
Tribeca is known especially for its top-notch selection of documentaries. Some of these might turn up on PBS or HBO or Amazon or Netflix or Hulu, or even at your local art house, but… no guarantees, so get your brain stimulated while you can, with:
When Lambs Become Lions, Feature Documentary
I know ivory poaching sounds boring. But ivory poaching might be just the setting for this penetrating and dramatic story about the tension between honor and survival, loyalty and competition, tightly knotted with complex family relationships, in an environment both magnificent and deadly. This is a film you should definitely see because it might not get picked up for distribution, due to its seemingly dull subject. But don’t be fooled; this is cinema at its best. When Lambs Become Lions is one of the most impressively crafted documentaries I have ever seen. This is what every documentary aspires to be — constructed from authentic and vivid, real-life footage (forget talking heads), and in addition manages to be a compelling narrative tale that performs as a suspenseful, action-packed drama.
hen Lambs Become Lions, Tribeca documentary
This work of vérité cinema takes us to the front lines of the poaching crisis through the intertwined stories of an ivory dealer and a wildlife ranger. In a Kenyan town bordering wildlife conservation land, “X”, a small-time ivory dealer, fights to stay on top while forces mobilize to destroy his trade. When he turns to his younger cousin, Asan, a conflicted ranger who hasn’t been paid in months, we see the ways that these two men have been working both for and against each other. With each on the edge of catastrophe, they both see a possible lifeline in the other.
The story itself is exciting, but equally exciting is the appearance of a new filmmaking talent – first-time feature director Jon Kasbe. Kasbe followed the film’s subjects with his camera over a three-year period, gaining an extraordinary level of access and trust as he became part of their everyday lives. The result is a rare and visually arresting look through the perspectives and motives of the people at the epicenter of the conservation divide.
New screenings for When Lambs Become Lions will be announced this Fall. To get the latest updates, visit their website.
United Skates, Feature Documentary
Credited with incubating East-Coast Hip Hop and West-Coast Rap, America’s roller rinks have long been bastions of regional African-American culture, music, and dance.
United Skates on HBO
When America’s last standing roller rinks are threatened with closure, a community of thousands battle in a racially charged environment to save an underground subculture – one that has remained undiscovered by the mainstream for generations, yet has given rise to some of the world’s greatest musical talent. We learn that an entire Who’s Who of Hip Hop was born at the skating rink. The music in the film is tremendous.
United Skates, at Tribeca 2018
United Skates takes a deep dive into the vibrant and celebratory world of African American roller skating. The opening sequence displays dancing on skates that is as athletic and raucous as roller derby and is more delightful and entertaining than I could have imagined. The film by Dyana Winkler and Tina Brown is thrilling to watch and important to understand. It’s a slice of American life that we are lucky to witness, as it seems to be quickly and unfortunately dying out.
United Skates is now available for streaming on HBO.
Blowin’ Up, Feature Documentary
When a woman leaves her pimp, it’s called “blowin’ up.” (“You can’t just walk away; you get beat up and stuff,” and by “stuff” she means things worse than you want to contemplate.) In Blowin’ Up, director Stephanie Wang-Breal zooms in on an experimental court in Queens that focuses on advocating for, rather than prosecuting, women brought in on prostitution and human trafficking-related charges, encouraging them to exit “the life.” In this courtroom, after they complete a series of mandatory counseling sessions, defendants see their charges sealed and dismissed. As the film illuminates the setbacks and triumphs they confront during this process, it also reveals the external pressures (including racial bias and immigration policy) that channel these women, some of the community’s most vulnerable, into prostitution.
With unparalleled access to the inner workings of the court and the diverse women behind this unusually compassionate approach to criminal justice, Wang-Breal captures the tenuous and complex ecosystem that has developed in and around this particular Queens courtroom. A shocking ending, straight from the very latest current events, reveals just how real and fragile this ecosystem is. Despite its topic, this is actually not a depressing movie. It is in large part inspiring. And the harshest parts will outrage you more than depress you, which is a good thing.
Recent 2019 current events about human trafficking in the U.S. — and reports that it is now among the worst in the world — have brought Blowin’ Up into the spotlight again, so it’s made a new tour of screenings around the country. For the latest updates on a screening near you, or to request a screenings, go to the Blowin’ Up website.
International Film
Foreign-film narratives are often my favorites, because they tend to have a subtlety and sophistication and an evocative sensibility that is rare to find in American movies. You will want to see:
Virgins,Israel
Bad title; it’s a mermaid movie. And it’s fantastic. Actually, it’s mostly a sweet and salty coming-of-age story, entangled with both magic and every-day desperation, set in a beautifully bleak and barren landscape, with mesmerizing performances, all of which by comparison make the Oscar-nominated movie Lady Bird seem like cliched drivel. To quote Annie Dillard, this film “looks like miracle itself, complete with miracle’s nonchalance.”
Virgins, at TFF2018
Teenage Lana whiles away the hours in her hometown Kiryat Yam, a run-down beachside community on Israel’s Mediterranean coast. She hangs out with a trio of shiftless boys, keeps an eye on her precocious cousin Tamar, and dreams of an impending move to Tel Aviv, all while waiting for the moment when her mother’s café finally bankrupts her family. But the sudden arrival of an attractive writer, Tchipi, may present a solution for both boredom and bottom lines: In between sparkling sexual tension, he spins a local myth into a news report of a mermaid sighting offshore—bringing people back to the city’s beaches. Now, the locals just need to turn this mermaid mania into an event big enough to bring hope and excitement back into their lives.
With deft elegance, director Keren Ben Rafael delivers a small but expansive and absolutely not over-wrought narrative feature debut movie, which feels impossibly true, melding elements of fantasy and simple, honest, naturalism.
Virgins is now available for streaming on Amazon Prime.
Sunday’s Illness, Spain
Like the recommended film above, this is another mother-daughter movie, and there are several in this year’s Festival, but all quite distinct. Whereas Virgins evokes magic out of ordinary, drab existence, Sunday’s Illnesspresents existence as a tinted veil of memory and emotion, evocative of mystery and potential danger, difficult to understand and impossible to predict. It’s a gorgeous movie, and it tells an alluring and suspenseful tale.
Sunday’s Illness at Tribeca 2018
From the outside looking in, Annabel (Susi Sanchez) would seem to have everything. She’s a successful businesswoman. She has a wealthy husband, and a place in society. But she also harbors a secret in her past, and one day, while hosting an opulent dinner party, that secret comes to call. After the dinner, Annabel is confronted by Chiara (Barbara Lennie), a member of the catering staff and the child Annabel abandoned over thirty years prior. The daughter, who was eight years old when her mother left, isn’t interested in money. She has a single, unusual request – that Annabel spend ten days with her in a remote house in the mountains, and then she will leave her alone forever, or so she claims.
Written and directed by Ramon Salazar Hoogers, Sunday’s Illness is an eerily dreamlike, sensuous meditation on an unconventional maternal bond. Featuring exquisite, austere compositions, wonderful performances from Sanchez and Lennie, and a script that allows silence to speak as loudly as words, Sunday’s Illness is a remarkably assured, consistently surprising mother-daughter drama.
Technically, this is not actually a foreign film. But it’s made by a Nigerian-American and takes place and was shot in Nigeria, fully capturing a very foreign place. Nigerian Prince offers a snapshot of a world not often seen on film, introducing the reality behind all-too-familiar junk-mail scams. These scams have touched all of us, in one way or another, and we can’t really fathom what it is on the other side of the world that produces them and brings them into our American lives. This debut feature from writer-director Faraday Okoro breathes cinematic life into characters that have previously only lurked in the shadows of the American imagination.
Nigerian Prince at TFF2018
When troubled American teenager Eze is sent away to his mother’s native Nigeria against his will, he quickly finds himself entangled in a dangerous web of scams and corruption, with his magnetic con-artist cousin Pius as his guide. This film, anchored by uniformly strong performances, seamlessly blends thrilling sequences of elaborate deception and dramatic tension with surprising moments of humor, making it much more than a fish-out-of-water tale. Newcomer Chinaza Uche is particularly brilliant as Pius, his confidence and cunning matched only by the sadness underlying his performance.
And the film itself is a remarkable feat, shot on location in Lagos and finished in just under 12 months. It’s a feature film that often feels like a documentary. The intensity certainly feels real, and you will sincerely worry how these dramatic circumstances will end.
Nigerian Prince is now available for download on Amazon Prime, among other streaming sites.
By and About Women
Of this year’s 96 films, 46% of them are directed by women, the highest percentage in the Festival’s history.And there are 28 female-centric feature films, which of course should be exciting news for everybody. It’s a bit strange that in today’s day, movies by and about women are considered to represent “emerging voices” that need to be championed. I will assume that Helen’s readers are more Highly conscious and don’t need to have explained to them why these films are going to be some of the freshest and fiercest and smartest. It’s truly a tough pick, but here are three of my favorite female films from TFF2018. Never mind, I can’t pick only three. Here are five:
Daughter of Mine, Feature Narrative
Yet another mother-daughter movie, this one also defines its own territory. Vittoria, a shy 10-year-old girl, spends the summer on the windswept Sardinian coast with her loving-but-overprotective mother Tina (Valeria Golino). Vittoria begins to suspect that the local slut and feckless, town drunk, Angelica (Alba Rohrwacher), is her actual birth mother, a revelation that upsets her innocent childhood existence. When financial difficulties force Angelica to leave town, she asks Tina if she can spend some time with Vittoria before she goes. Tina reluctantly agrees, setting off a dramatic summer during which the young Vittoria finds herself torn between two imperfect mothers. The film poignantly displays just how immensely a girl will always want her mother.
Daughter of Mine, Tribeca
Director Laura Bispuri’s return to Tribeca—three years after her Sworn Virgin took home the festival’s Nora Award for best female director—gives us another powerhouse film, an intimate three-hander about the bonds we make, break, and are born with. Bispuri holds nothing back – not the horrific cruelty nor improbable joy, not the selfishness nor selflessness that takes place between these three female characters.
Danish actress and musician Trine Dyrholm delivers a high-voltage performance as Christa Päffgen—better known as Nico, the Andy Warhol darling and one-time chanteuse of the Velvet Underground. At the outset of Nico, 1988, Nico is approaching 50, tumbling down the slopes of drug addiction, and desperate to regain custody of her son. Her manager, Richard (John Gordon Sinclair), sensing her need for purpose, sets her on a tour across Europe; back on the road, she’s equal parts tenacious, manic, and erratic.
Nico, 1988 at Tribeca
Writer-director Susanna Nicchiarelli gives us an unapologetic portrait of a woman who never cared about being pretty or nice; she is the antithesis of traditional female virtue. Nicchiarelli blends a tangible reverence for her subject with dark humor, crafting a riveting examination of a fragile artist constantly pushed to perform. The audience is witness to the anguished and scattered psychology of Nico’s final years. With precision, care, and grit, Nicchiarelli and Dyrholm capture the inner turmoil of a fearless icon, artist, and mother struggling to reconcile the consequences of her tortured life.
Nico, 1988 is available for streaming on Amazon Prime and Zudu.
I will call this the most irresistible movie of the Festival – about that doll well known to all of us, whom we so love to hate. Since her debut nearly 60 years ago, Barbie has been, at turns, a fashion idol and a cultural lightning rod, in constant conversation and conflict with the ideals and aspirations of women and girls in every era. Tiny Shoulders tells the unlikely history of the Barbie figure, as it also explores our ideas of beauty, female stereotypes, and women’s social progress, all reflected back by an 11.5-inch doll.
Barbie Dolls
More than just a history lesson, the film goes behind the scenes at Mattel, where Barbie is undergoing a new transformation in order to better reflect today’s more diverse perspectives on body image and beauty ideals. We meet the women who are designing the new Barbie(s), and watch their dedicated and grueling effort to preserve and rejuvenate an iconic brand, while meeting the world’s expectations. Featuring interviews with Gloria Steinem, Roxane Gay, Peggy Orenstein, Mattel insiders, and cultural historians, Andrea Nevins’ engaging and enlightening documentary brings the doll that 98% of the world can recognize, into new focus, positioning her as the ever-evolving mirror of feminism in America and around the globe.
Tiny Shoulders: Rethinking Barbie is now available on Hulu.
Lemonade, International Narrative
Ioana Uricaru’s understated directorial debut, depicts one 24-hour period in the life of Mara, a young Romanian mother and nurse who moved to the United States several months ago for work and has already become accustomed to the “immigrant” struggles and frustrations that are part of the fabric of her life in America. The film focuses on a series of encounters, both mundane and astonishing, both indignities and quiet triumphs. Each encounter with an American man, whether her immigration officer, her new husband, her doctor, a police officer, or her lawyer, begins with optimism and determination, offers some reward, and ends with either abuse or exploitation. And this is all just one day in her life.
Lemonade, at Tribeca 2018
Despite its narrow focus, Lemonade gestures to the widest, all-too-relevant themes of the ways in which immigrants are treated as “other” in this country, the ways in which they are especially vulnerable to the dangers of modern American life and the infuriating unfairness of a national bureaucracy. And yet, we see the extraordinary lengths to which Mara will go to live in America and have her son go to school here. We see the resilient, relentless spirit that keeps immigrants alive in America. But, in today’s day, will that be enough to thrive? Can Mara make it? It’s a simple story told with clarity and dispassion. It’s the story of a person (likely an “invisible person”) who you encounter every day. It’s worth watching.
Based on true events, Woman Walks Ahead (A24/DirectTV) stars Jessica Chastain as Catherine Weldon, a widowed Brooklyn-based artist who journeys to North Dakota in the 1880s, with the intention of painting a portrait of the legendary Sioux chief Sitting Bull. Upon arrival, she encounters hostility and roadblocks at every turn, especially in the form of male soldiers who believe that her liberal sensibilities have no place in the Wild West. Sam Rockwell gives a stand-out performance as a U.S. Army Officer who becomes Catherine’s greatest adversary. It isn’t until she is welcomed into the chief’s world that she realizes there are larger issues at stake than merely capturing his image for posterity. And yet, Sitting Bull comes to realize the symbolic and fateful importance of that portrait.
Woman Walks Ahead offers a stirring look at an unlikely friendship, the importance of fighting for what is right, and the beginning of a movement. It tells a little-known story of a courageous woman and a key moment in American history. Director Susanna White delivers a lush, wide-screen, big-sky, American-landscape picture. It’s a pleasure to watch and an inspiration to take home with you.
Woman Walks Ahead is available for streaming on Amazon Prime.
Woman Walks Ahead
Comedy
There are not usually a lot of comedies at Tribeca. But when they are there, they are often very good. In 2016, one of my favorite films was the comedy My Blind Brother (now available on Amazon Prime and iTunes). This year, one of my favorite films is another comedy:
Song of Back and Neck, U.S. Narrative
This film follows Fred (Paul Lieberstein), a hapless man, on a journey to find a cure for his chronic back pain. Along the way, he discovers a very unusual talent and unexpected love, and that his emotions may have been the cause of his pain all along. The core joke is that when Fred goes to an acupuncturist, the needles in his back vibrate like tuning forks and make music. This is an odd-ball comedy. But that key joke introduces an amazing array of music into the film – from classical to folk to punk. Helen Highly anticipates the excellent soundtrack (if it ever were to be distributed). You could almost call this a music movie. And the romantic comedy component is unconventional enough to be fun and unpredictable. It’s wry, smart comedy, despite how strange the story sounds. And the film has a lot of heart, too. Plus, it has an unexpected and excellent ending, and endings are usually the hardest part of a movie to get right. The ending of this movie will make you laugh and clap and cheer.
Song of Back and Neck
In addition to staring in the film, Lieberstein (best known for his work on The Office) also directs and produces. And he delivers a weird, wacky, utterly delightful film.
Song of Back and Neck is available for streaming on Amazon Prime.
Fashion
Yeah, I’m giving fashion it’s own category. Three excellent fashion films to see. If you’re interested in art or artists, these films are for you too.
For more on all these fashion films, plus a few more from last year, with more trailers, and where to see them now, check out my “Fashion Films from Tribeca” article.
Yellow is Forbidden, Feature Documentary
Recognition from Paris’s Chambre Syndicale de la Haute Couture is considered the apex of the fashion industry, and Chinese designer Guo Pei is determined to reach it. With a remarkable eye for detail and exquisite blending of visual art forms, veteran documentarian Pietra Brettkelly captures Guo’s drive, artistry, meticulousness, and acumen, from the designer’s emergence on the international scene—when Rihanna wore her hand-embroidered canary yellow gown to the Met Gala in 2015—through her remarkable 2017 show “Legend,” presented at La Conciergerie, in Paris.
Yellow is Forbidden
Along the way, Brettkelly reveals the myriad opposing forces that confront Guo’s ambitions: those of tradition versus modernity; acceptance versus prejudice; and ensuring a thriving business versus pursuing more expensive and exclusive techniques. She also highlights the pressures China’s economic and political rise places on its individual artisans—as Guo puts it, “I’m a designer, not a nation.” Nevertheless, Guo thrives amid these challenges, establishing herself as a singularly capable and uncompromising warrior for her art. With loving fidelity for Guo’s work, Brettkelly depicts both the process and the fashion itself, resulting in a timely examination of what it takes for an outsider to earn acclaim from one of the West’s most redoubtable institutions.
The Gospel According to Andre, Feature Documentary
André Leon Talley—unmistakable in his regal stature, his fiercely original way with words, and his incomparable historical knowledge of couture—has been a fixture of the fashion world for more than 40 years. A mentee of the legendary editor Diana Vreeland, Talley called Vogue home for years; he served as news director, creative director, and, finally, editor-at-large, until 2013. As he drifts effortlessly from the front row at fashion weeks across the globe to television appearances and New York Times assignments, one begins to wonder how such an original as Talley came to be.
In Kate Novack’s film, the viewer is invited back to his childhood in Jim Crow-era North Carolina. His beloved grandmother, Bennie, raised him, schooling him in decorum, religion, and, unsurprisingly, how to dress, sparking an early and powerful love for all things fashion. This led him to New York City, where he battled—and continues to battle—both racist and homophobic assumptions about black men in the industry. Novack pulls back the curtain on this towering icon, revealing new and vulnerable moments with Talley—as well as hilarious ones—as he discusses his storied career and the women who helped him achieve it.
McQueen, Feature Documentary
Beginning with his modest upbringing in London, Lee Alexander McQueen quickly ascended the ranks of the international fashion world. After graduating from Central Saint Martins and establishing his eponymous label, McQueen became head designer of Givenchy at age 27 and went on to win the Fashion Awards’ (then the British Fashion Awards) prize for British Designer of the Year four times. His theatrical runway shows and daring designs existed on the cutting edge of ’90s fashion, his controversial and confrontational work earning him equal attention from fans and detractors alike. At the same time, he also forged a friendship with the influential stylist Isabella Blow, cultivating an intimate relationship that would last until her death in 2007. As McQueen’s star rose, so did the pressure, and accompanying anxiety, to constantly strive for ever greater heights of genius.
McQueen documentary
Ian Bonhôte and Peter Ettedgui’s documentary tells McQueen’s story through the testimonials from his closest friends and family. Featuring personal archives extending back to the earliest days of his career, as well as dynamic footage of his most boundary-pushing shows and creations, McQueen offers a portrait of the tortured but inspired auteur’s work and persona.
I know this seems like an awfully long list of movies, but compared to the ginormous collection at TFF2018, these really are just the tip of the iceberg. And I haven’t even discussed all the other narrative media at the festival. I’ll just add two more notes:
The whisper is that this is The Year of the Short at Tribeca — both short animations and short films. It’s an impressive list and I have barely started watching them myself, but I highly encourage you to check out the Shorts Lineup — billed as “short films, major stories.”
Love, GIlda at Tribeca
And then, the big pictures of the fest are the Opening, Centerpiece, and Closing films. This year, the Opening Night film is Love, Gilda –– a Gilda Radner documentary. The Centerpiece film is the world premiere of Drake Doremus’ sci-fi romance Zoe, starring Ewan McGregor, Léa Seydoux, Rashida Jones, and Theo James. And they are closing the festival with the world premiere of The Fourth Estate, from Oscar-nominated director Liz Garbus, which follows the New York Times‘ coverage of the Trump administration’s first year. Those are all movies that will not disappear, but Tribeca offers you the opportunity to be among the first to see them.
