Stockbrokers Are People Too, Maybe

You may want a primer on the behaviors and history that lead to the financial collapse of 2008 before going in to Margin Call, the new financial thriller from writer/director J.C Chandor. There are numerous terms and numbers thrown out at the characters and audience, and it’s hard to make sense of it all. But, then, that’s the point. Margin Call tells the story of a 24 hour period in which a few managers and executives at a Lehman Brothers-like firm try to avert an impending disaster, in which even the very highest executives are not entirely sure what the information means. The one character who seems to have the best grasp on the information is a rocket scientist, and even he doesn’t know exactly what is happening, or how to stop it.

It may seem somewhat masochistic to watch a financial thriller about the 2008 financial collapse while we are still experiencing the effects of it, but Margin Call makes for an effective and entertaining thriller, even while keeping the majority of the action contained to various boardrooms and offices. The boardroom scenes are tense, without devolving into shouting matches between veteran actors. And none of the actors come across as outright villains, they are all just people put into the overwhelming situation of trying to avert impending disaster, though Jeremy Irons does come off slightly vampiric. It is a bold move- especially in these times, where stockbrokers are perceived as enemy #1.

The ensemble cast includes Kevin Spacey, Paul Bettany, Demi Moore, Zachary Quinto, Simon Baker, Irons, and Penn Badgley. Stanley Tucci also shows up in scenes that bookend the film, as the risk management director whose work exposes the impending collapse, and whose role also seems to be the guy that just spouts numbers. It’s a role similar to Liam Neeson’s in Gangs of New York, in that he is mentioned constantly throughout the film while only appearing in it for a few minutes, not in the spouting numbers way. As one of the least recognizable names in the ensemble, Quinto does a fine job as Tucci’s rocket scientist protégé, who takes over his work after he is fired early on.

Kevin Spacey and Paul Bettany also deliver fine performances. This is perhaps one of Kevin Spacey’s best performances since Moon (where he played the voice of the robot GERTY), and it’s always good to see Bettany doing more than just glowering while killing CGI monsters. Penn Badgley is passable as a young, cocky stockbroker, though I kept thinking he was Adam Brody. Are we sure they’re not related? It was somewhat sad to hear his character admit that all he ever wanted to do was be a stockbroker. He must have had very little imagination as a kid.

Simon Baker and Demi Moore fare less well, though they aren’t given much to work with. They mostly just stay in the background as Spacey, Bettany, and Irons do the heavy lifting. And the one scene with the two of them sandwiching a cleaning woman in an elevator is a little too on the nose in terms of imagery. Aasif Mandvi can also be glimpsed taking a short break from The Daily Show, though he is given even less to do than Moore.

Margin Call occasionally evokes another one-location thriller, Deterence, though I would say that Margin Call is much more sure-footed and effective. Both deal with people making impossible choices in the face of catastrophe, but Margin Call has the benefit of being a fictional account of real events, and the ensemble is much better. While it may seem strange to find entertainment and excitement in a film about an event from which we are still feeling the fallout, Margin Call is nevertheless a well made, tense thriller, which manages to also be entertaining.

Written by Mark Donovan
Editor: TS Harmon

FILM REVIEW: "Cast Me If You Can," by Mark Donovan

Mark Donovan  FILM REVIEW: "Cast Me If You Can," by Mark Donovan The Manic Pixie Dream Girl is a cinematic figure that has existed for about five decades, though it has never been used as frequently as it has in the past 7 years.

For those that do not know, the MPDG is a bit of cinematic wish fulfillment; a girl/woman who was put on this Earth to selflessly nurture the broken hearts of lonely men. The biggest surprise of Cast Me if You Can, a new romantic comedy from Japan, is finding out that the MPDG exists in other cultures, too.

Ah, but there is a difference. The MPDG in this case is almost an actual person. Her name is Aya, played by Hiromi Nagasaku, and she has problems of her own. She may be a master thespian, and very handy when it comes to disarming a thief using only a mop handle, and she may have an unflappable cheerfulness about her, but her love life isn’t going well. Her boyfriend/husband is seen walking out on her very early on, because he just can’t take her “energy”. She also works a dead end job at a convenience store, and, later in the film, gets evicted because her ex-boyfriend/ex-husband blows all of the rent money at a casino. Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to be an MPDG.

Then again, Aya is not the focus of the movie. The main story revolves around Hiroshi, the son of a famous playwright and supporting actor extraordinaire, who dreams of becoming a lead actor. Hiroshi is played by Toru Masuoka, essentially the Japanese equivalent of Steve Buscemi, who’s been acting for roughly 30 years, but always in a supporting role. In the film, Masuoka gets his chance to play the lead in “The Woody Allen Remake”- it is never mentioned which of Woody Allen’s films is being remade, but my money is on Curse of the Jade Scorpion- but sees his hopes dashed due to a false report that he is carrying on an affair with a married woman. The obvious real life parallels are not lost on director Atsushi Ogata. It is also one of many times in which Masuoka is mistaken for someone else- a running joke which leads to a few clever gags.

While writer/director Ogata doesn’t stray too far from the Romantic Comedy Playbook, he does add in a few fun set pieces, a couple interesting characters, and a world in which, while there are a few instances of humanity gone wrong, people tend to look after one another. The world may continue to be an imperfect place, but for 90 minutes those instances of imperfection are the exception, not the rule.

Back to the beginning; Masuoka, having just been fired, meets Nagasaku at a train station where a man is accosting her under the impression that she stole his wallet. Masuoka intervenes and somehow inherits a strange, chipper tag-along, who recognizes him as supporting actor then follows him around for an undisclosed period of time. For their “meet-cute”, Masuoka gives the impression that he’d rather be anywhere else but next to this odd girl, while Nagasaku remains cheerful as ever, giving advice about grapes and seeming star struck even though Masuoka is far from a “star”. It is an odd scene, which sets the tone for their romance. It isn’t exactly what would be expected out of a romantic comedy, even though it is clearly a romantic comedy. Cast Me never truly subverts the genre clichés, but it does its best to subtly alter them.

There are certainly Woody Allen-esque touches to the film, including a prolonged, caper-style bit where Masuoka tries to clear his name through stalking the woman whom he was supposedly having an affair, but those bits don’t add up to a whole. Though it may involve a few trapping of other genres or directors, those elements are just pieces of a whole. The film belongs to the singular vision of Ogata and co-writer Akane Shiratori.

It helps that Cast Me is stacked with noted Japanese thespians. Nearly every role in the film is played by a Japanese celebrity, down to even the tiniest of supporting roles. Hell, the father is played by Masahiko Tsugawa, the Cary Grant of Japanese cinema. If this were an American release it would be on par with the average summer blockbuster.

Early screenings of the film prove that it is quite the crowd pleaser. Anyone who is a fan of Japanese cinema, or a romantic comedy fan in general, should seek out this movie. It may not be a game changer, but it still makes for a fun time while it lasts.


Film website http://elevenarts.net

Written by Mark Donovan
Editor: TS Harmon

My America at Reel Fest DC

My America, a cinematic achievement by Rod Webber and Joseph James Bellamy, to play at Reel Fest DC. Check it out. Nov 10th to 14th at CDIA. Reel Fest DC.

‘Applebox’ Stands Tall, ‘Directors Cut’ Is Sharp Filmmaking - by Joseph James Bellamy

I recently had the opportunity to take in two selections at the Boston International Film Festival, at the Lowes Multiplex on Boston Common. It was an evening well spent, to say the least.

The first offering was a short about being, well, short. In Rick Page’s Applebox, starring James Radone, we see just how much of who we are depends on how we are perceived. Radone gives a hilarious, and ultimately touching performance as James Bronson, 5’3” of A-list Leading Man chasing the elusive golden figurine. We soon see the key to Bronson’s success is a 2’X1’ wooden box that allows the sample sized star to rise to any challenge. Page summarizes Bronson’s career in a hysterical stream of riffs on well known, low-rise actors, each ending with him stepping off of the titular box, while staying in frame. Hoffman, Pesci, and Pacino all get the treatment, and Radone brings a genuine humor to each in turn. It made me wish that Tom Cruise had gotten the Academy nod, just to see him get skewered in this top-flight comedy sequence. The off camera Bronson is a pampered, self absorbed egotist, fully immersed in his own larger than life public image.

When the box is stolen, Bronson finds his world falling apart. His trophy wife leaves him, his lucrative book and lecture tour falls through and all seems well and truly lost. It is at this point that Radone steps things up a notch, or two. Where his portrayal of the pompous Bronson is tongue in cheek at the outset, the misery, rage, confusion and desperation of the characters fall are the height of poignancy. We learn how far out of reach not only success, but simple acceptance can be, when you’re ‘Just not the right type, physically’. With the inclusion of misses from Radone’s own audition reel, the phrase ‘Sorry, we’re looking for a leading man.’ becomes a heartbreaking mantra of rejection in a world where he no longer measures up.

Bronson deserves his misfortune, but his situation raises a question. What are we without our self-embellishments? Sure, we’re not all standing on boxes, but how many of us dye our hair, wear specific brands, endure body modifications, or engage some other deliberate affectation in our appearance? Now, how many of us can say we do these things for reasons other than to be taken seriously by those who’s approval we desire? It’s a visual culture, and the clothes (or the box) make the man.

The film closes with a monolog, performed half by a nearly raving Bronson as he wanders the streets of L.A., and completed in what appears to be a turn as Napoleon, sans-box. He cries out for the love, the respect, and the glory he feels he has earned, echoing the sense of frustration shared by so many. It is this deeply moving recitation that ultimately wins Bronson his heart’s desire.

It’s clear that with Applebox, Page has created a short film that stands tall on big laughs and an even bigger heart, with a legitimate leading man, in Radone, who is head and shoulders above the crowd.



The second film, Director’s Cut, the latest feature length effort from Writer/Director/ Producer Elana Mugdan, and Shivnath productions spoke not only to a dear place in my heart, but to the humor centers of my brain.

The film chronicles the tragedies, triumphs, mistakes and miracles that befall Cassie (the sweetly spunky Hallie York) a hapless intern with a heart of digital video tape. Cassie’s life is spinning out of what little control she has had over it since leaving school. Her job sucks, her parents vacillate between oblivion and cold disapproval. She is frustrated by what seems like, “no way to accomplish something before I die,” as she puts it. Worse still, there is no silver lining in sight. It is only when her uber-geek, and coincidentally brilliant friend Eugene (a hysterically spot-on Brian Cheng) puts his latest fantasy opus in her hands, and demands that she make it a film, that she sees a way out of her quarter-life rut.

To any major studio, Eugene’s out there fiction, centering on a teleporting alien vampire pirate queens attempts to take over the world (No, really…) would be a poison apple, with worms. Cassie, however, possesses the trait most needed and common to those committed to independent film: She believes that a good film is about telling a good story, and Eugene’s story is good. Armed with that belief, she recruits her slacker friend, Gary (a preternaturally serene Jonathan Fernandez) as her first crew member and sets out to make a movie. A brush off at the reception desk of a production company sets the bad-to-worse tone of the story early.

In spite of this setback, and fueled by a chance meeting with a famous producer, Cassie’s commitment and tenacity are re-doubled. A little elbow grease and a trip to the print shop later, she has collected a beautifully comic array of cast and crew. And what a crew! There’s Cal, a photographer famous for out of focus images as Director of Photography (Eric J. Eastman, channeling at least one real life DP I’ve known), the hopelessly under-qualified Assistant Director, Ariel (Jessica Coals), who’s laughable ignorance keeps her star-struck on a set without any stars, Tom the air-headed pretty boy leading man (The truly talented Jack Kropac), a homeless boom operator, and Zeke, the videogame junkie turned post production wiz-kid.

From leading-lady walk-outs, to prima-donna technical-experts, to uncooperative weather, the project runs the entire gauntlet of obstacles. They are even mistaken for a porn outfit and nearly arrested. Scenes are dropped, dialog is changed and tempers flair all around. There are sound and lighting issues of all kinds, with all of the solutions being heaped on Zeke, (the hacker,) and his digital manipulations. (It’s a method which is frighteningly popular in the world of big-budget film making-- Just ask James Cameron or Steven Spielberg.) Hell, there are even puppets.

The entire bullet-train-wreck is nearly derailed by the utter destruction of the production’s only camera, complete with a bittersweet funeral for the gadget. If all of this sounds like crossing a bridge too far to tilt at windmills, welcome to independent film making. Not only is this sort of mayhem common to the form, but, as Cassie and company discover, it’s the best part. All movies have problems and adjustments in the course of production. The beauty of the independent effort is the rigors and the rushes of solving these problems are experienced hands-on by all who are involved. It doesn’t matter if you are the director or the person getting coffee, since more often than not these two positions are one and the same. Among the many narrative and stylistic beauties of Director’s Cut, is that it is an independent film about independent film, that manages to avoid most, if not all of the technical gaffes and giveaways that are the less-than-flattering hallmark of the form.

In Directors Cut, Mugdan paints a heart-warming, and hilariously accurate portrait of the artistry, camaraderie, and lunacy that is independent film. The humor and humanity of the film come from the truth of the experience. Having been part of more than a few such projects, I know the real deal when I see it, and this is it. In fact, I felt as though I had known, worked and hung out with the entire cast, and shared their bond.

The character of Cassie reminds me of a certain all-or-nothing director I know quite well. Both are strung tight between the need for creativity that drives them, and the lives they must make fit between and around those goals. Neither will give up on what they are, filmmakers, just because the world around them is slow to share their vision. It is this kind of love, and there is no other word for it, that inspires those around them (my self included) to leap headlong into the seemingly impossible. They, and Mugdan, believe that it is the act of making the film that matters, and the film itself, though permanent, is merely a recorded echo of the fearless roar within creative spirits. We who join the charge, in front of or behind the camera, believe because they do. After seeing this film, you’ll believe too. You may even find yourself re-editing the scenes, characters and plot of your life to make your own Directors Cut.

Written by Joseph James Bellamy
Editor: TS Harmon

What is... "BELLFLOWER"?

S. M. Crowningshield What is Bellflower? The great thing is that the answer to that question doesn’t matter. When discussing a movie, most people usually begin by categorizing: “You’ve Got Mail is a romantic comedy about...” or “Silence of the Lambs is a thriller where...” or “Indiana Jones 4 is a travesty in which...” It’s the film watcher's equivalent of “What do you do?” at a party.

We need a place to start before we can have a chat with someone, and we often need the same before sitting down with a movie. Studios know this and design their trailers accordingly. Watch the trailer to Rio and it shouts “I’m fun for kids!” while the teaser for Scream 4 whispers “You and your friends are gonna get scared.” 

But watch the trailer to Bellflower and it says....well, huh. It doesn’t say much. A strong, electronic twang and heavy beat reverberates over a greenish hellscape of smoke and dirt. A black, rough looking car with block letters that spell out Medusa sits center frame. Soon a man walks to the beast of car, gets in. Fire spews from the 5-foot high tailpipes and Medusa speeds away. If you like fire-breathing cars it may foretell awesomeness, but even still...what sort of awesomeness, exactly? Blurbs flash on the screen from the likes of the Onion’s AV Club and the Austin Chronicle talking about “mayhem,” “bromance” and “nihilist love story / vengeance tale.” Even the experts who’ve seen it can’t quite classify it, but luckily that’s not Bellflower’s gimmick. It’s merely a side note. 

Most think of unclassifiable movies as shock cinema, too out there for casual consumption. Or maybe as too arty fare from the French New Wave, films from Godard and Buñuel that take oblique hits at concepts like bourgeois culture that most of us simply can’t begin to relate to. Most of these movies are art for artists’ sake. 

Bellflower is art for your sake. It’s a movie you can bring friends to -- you should bring your friends to. These friends can love the Romanian New Wave, or they can love Avatar. It won’t really matter. And nobody needs to fear the lack of context. For those who need that place to start, you only have to watch the movie. It starts you right off in comfortable territory: real life. From the first frame Bellflower is instantly relatable. So feel free to hop in that big, crazy fire-breathing car. You’ll have a fun ride even if you can’t quite classify it later.

Trailer to Bellflower  

Website: CoatWolf Productions

Review written by S.M. Crowningshield
Editor: TS Harmon

FILM REVIEW: Ashes by Mark Donovan

Mark Donovan  FILM REVIEW: "Ashes," by Mark Donovan Ajay Naidu has acted in 64 different film and television roles- though he is primarily known for his role as Samir in Office Space- and it is clear that his time in front of the camera has also taught him a good deal about working behind the camera.

In Ashes, Naidu plays a small time drug dealer in New York, nicknamed Ashes, who sells weed, and only weed, in order to support him and his mentally challenged brother (Faran Tahir, Iron Man). His luck starts to turn around when he associates himself with a group of small time drug dealers from India, lead by a man called Pinky (Firdous Bamji). As is the way in films like this, things then start to fall apart.

While the drug deal portion of film takes up a good bit of the run time, it’s the story of the two brothers that seems to be the focus of the film. As Ashes, Naidu plays a man struggling with the responsibility of looking after his older brother and trying to fulfill his own dreams of wealth. Meanwhile, the older, more troubled brother, Kartik, is dealing with Manic Depressive Schizophrenia, and the knowledge that he is no longer in charge of his own brain. As Kartik, Tahir manages to play a deeply troubled man without overplaying his cards. Sometimes all it takes is a slight gleam in his eye, or a minor change in his expression. The bit players are also quite good, from Piper Perabo as Kartik’s love interest, who is also dealing with her own mental illness, to Peter Macon, who gives a very genuine and natural performance as Ashes’ friend and fellow drug dealer.

The idea of a low level drug dealer who deals only weed may lack verisimilitude, but Naidu, as director, makes up for it with subtle realism; from the apartments that the characters live in, to the little details, like when Naidu and Macon share some Nutella straight out of the jar, with their fingers, for lack of spoons or bread. There is a gritty realism to the way these characters live.

Though the movie was made on a shoestring budget, with a cast comprised mostly of his friends, Naidu manages to make every penny count. The cinematography incorporates a great deal of natural light, yet every scene looks professional, if not picturesque. And while the direction may lack flash, it is obvious that Naidu has picked up a few tricks from watching Darren Aronofsky. Had I not known this was his first time directing, I would not have known this was his first time directing.

Ashes is, artistically, a success, overall, but there are a few missteps along the way. Ashes is a primarily male-centric film, leaving the women solely underused. While Piper Perabo does a fine job as a mentally unstable love-interest, she spends most of the film unseen and unheard, mentioned only by the older brother. Reena Shah fares worse as Ashes’ love interest. Her character is rarely seen, and, in the end, we know so little about her that she just seems like an afterthought. Heather Burns is the most egregious, however. While her character is supposed to be mysterious, she is given so little to say or do that the audience doesn’t really care who she is or what she is trying to do. With a few more scenes thrown her way, Burns character could have provided the film with a good deal more mystery or tension.

These problems are minor when considering how well the movie has been constructed, overall. Hopefully Naidu will be given more chances to direct in the future. If this film is any indication, he should have a bright future ahead of him.

Film website: www.ashesfilm.com

Written by Mark Donovan
Editor: TS Harmon

FILM REVIEW: "Beneath Goes Above and Beyond," by Joseph James Bellamy

Joseph Bellamy "Beneath Goes Above and Beyond," by Joseph James Bellamy "Beneath Contempt" screens at Brooklyn Film Festival, June 10th, 6pm Who deserves redemption? Can the pain of a lost loved one be balanced in blood?  Is there a limit to the human soul’s capacity to forgive? These are the questions raised in Beneath Contempt.

Writer/Director Benjamin Brewer’s calmly powerful account of loss, atonement, and family.

The story begins with the events leading up to an automobile crash that proves fatal for all but one of the car’s occupants, Sean Beckett, the driver (an impressively solid and tender showing by Collin Janson.) Beckett is judged at fault for the accident, and is sentenced to a prison term. From here, the story shifts forward to just before Beckett is released and we are re-introduced to the family of one of the victims.

Sarah Newhouse is the picture of a fractured psyche as Juna Barnes, the mother of the deceased. Her expression of the bottomless loss in a child’s death is brilliantly subtle. She runs the gamut between numbly getting through her life and a manic outcry to other survivors for some sense of justice. A justice that cannot come in the form she hopes. Or can it?

In Matthew, the brother of the deceased, (Mike Bash deftly conveying cold vengeance and the warmth of familial love) we encounter an injured soul, incapable of forgetting or forgiving. We see that he has been engaging in an ongoing campaign to prevent Beckett’s release. Simultaneously, Matthew devotes himself to protecting his younger sister from the pain that permeates their family. Where his mother is trying to come to grips with the unfortunate facts of their situation, Matthew believes the law has failed his family, in spite of his commitment to the process. His solution to this frustration drives the plot to a chillingly brutal, if very human, conclusion.

Grounding the family with both their need to preserve her innocence and her own precocious awareness of the tragedy is youngest child, daughter Jamie (newcomer Abby Austin). It is Jamie’s youthful ability to believe in better tomorrows that adds a bittersweet beauty to her interactions with what remains of her family.

From the moment of his release, it is clear that the locals have not forgotten Beckett’s transgression and that he is decidedly unwelcome in his own home town. The feeling is even echoed, if not endorsed, by his mother, Nora (a warmly heart-breaking performance by Melanie May, full of earnest fear and worry,) and Uncle Rob (portrayed with a calm stoicism by Eric R. Eastman). Under a shade of painful regret, lit only by the faint hope that one day his crime will be forgotten, Beckett settles in and attempts to reclaim his life.

The remainder of the film is an impressively elegant and subtle dance of mounting tensions. The pressure is felt on all sides: in Beckett’s mind, within the Beckett and Barns’ families, and between them. The disturbing sense of reflection under pressure envelopes the audience, as the story builds to its dark crescendo. All of this is rendered with a chillingly creepy use of shadow, ambient lighting, and fittingly, the harsh glare of headlights. The overall visual effect is the sense that you are in someone else’s dream of their darkest hour, everything bearing a wholly normal, yet subjectively alien appearance. Brewer succeeds in stimulating, and emotionally capturing the audience, without ever sacrificing or over-selling the measured clarity of his vision.

By the end of the experience (and it is quite an experience…) none of the above questions are answered. The good guy doesn’t get the girl, there is no clear lesson learned. All we learn about loss, redemption, vengeance, and forgiveness is that the capacity for each of these, and a million other states of mind, is within each of us. The values and limits of these things are left to us to define, as we make our own way through life.

In summary, Beneath Contempt is a powerful drama that dissects the family dynamic to strike directly at the heart of the individual. It is a quietly dignified tour de force that brings the audience face to face with the truths we would rather leave unexplored within ourselves. I recommend it for anyone interested in traversing the frontiers and testing the boundaries of humanity in the face of mortality.

Directed by Benjamin Brewer
Film Website : www.beneathcontemptfilm.com   

Review written by Joseph James Bellamy
Editor: TS Harmon