Tag Archives: films

REVIEW: Sing Your Song Doesn’t Need to Tease Greatness Out of Harry Belafonte — It’s Already There

It takes at least two things to make a terrific documentary: A great subject and a light but deft touch. Susanne Rostock’s Sing Your Song , which traces the career of Harry Belafonte with a specific focus on the singer and actor’s social activism, certainly has the former — it’s the latter that’s lacking. But if nothing else, Sing Your Song works as a testament to Belafonte’s drive and dedication to causes well outside the usual goals of simply making money. If you don’t know much about Belafonte beyond the fact that he was that great-looking guy who had a hit in the ’50s with “The Banana Boat Song,” Rostock’s documentary is as good a place as any to start. Sing Your Song is simply conceived and constructed: Rostock (making her directing debut, though she’s been editing documentaries for years) uses on-camera interviews with Belafonte, as well as voice-over narration, to frame a selection of television and news clips and still photographs. The story doesn’t need much embellishment: Belafonte was born in Harlem in 1927, though he spent a portion of his childhood with his grandmother, in Jamaica. He served in the Navy during World War II, and afterward became involved, along with his friend Sidney Poitier, with the American Negro Theater. Belafonte also studied acting at the New School, along with Poitier, Marlon Brando, Walter Matthau and Bernie Schwartz (the last better known as Tony Curtis). He began singing in clubs in New York in the early 1950s. And when he saw Huddie Ledbetter on stage one evening, he was inspired to start researching folk music himself, not just purely American folk music, but that of other countries as well — his 1956 album Calypso was the first LP to sell more than 1 million copies. ( Sing Your Song includes a TV clip of ’50s talk-show host Steve Allen passing one framed gold record after another into Belafonte’s arms.) Belafonte appears to have become a social activist without even knowing it, inspiring outrage in an extremely segregated America without even trying. In Robert Rossen’s 1957 Island in the Sun, his character’s romance with a white woman (played by Joan Fontaine) spurred controversy, though it also boosted ticket sales. Racism was still a huge problem — perhaps even a bigger problem — in 1968, when Petula Clark, performing on television with Belafonte, dared to take his arm. The outcry from advertisers and the public was deafening. Sing Your Song suggests that all of these experiences helped shape Belafonte’s political sensibility, goading him into action instead of just accepting injustice. Rostock includes interviews with significant figures of the civil rights movement, among them Julian Bond, who explains how much it meant to see Belafonte on television in the 1950s: “You’d call your neighbor – ‘Colored on TV!’ It was so rare.” And Belafonte himself explains how he became drawn to the civil rights cause: Martin Luther King Jr. set up a meeting with him, assuring him it wouldn’t take long. Four hours later, Belafonte emerged, ready to do anything necessary to get the point across to the rest of the nation. Sing Your Song is most potent in dealing with Belafonte’s activism during the ’50s and ’60s, becoming murkier and more disorganized when Rostock heads into the Watergate era. It’s not that Belafonte’s work became less visible or less significant at that point, but Rostock presents those years as a blurry laundry list, whirring from Belafonte’s efforts to end hunger in Ethiopia to his anti-Apartheid activities to his involvement in the turmoil in Haiti in the mid-1990s. By the last third, Sing Your Song begins to feel more like a promotional film — promoting activism, if nothing else — than a well-rounded portrait. Still, it’s valuable for both the vintage footage Rostock has collected and for the observations provided by Belafonte, who is as charming, handsome and persuasive in his mid-80s as he ever was. When he speaks about his recent efforts to end gang violence in Los Angeles, he says, “I’m still looking to fix these things I thought we fixed 50 years ago.” Retirement, apparently, isn’t an option. Follow Stephanie Zacharek on Twitter . Follow Movieline on Twitter .

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REVIEW: Sing Your Song Doesn’t Need to Tease Greatness Out of Harry Belafonte — It’s Already There

Twitter Chatter: Paul Thomas Anderson Shooting The Master on 65MM

Paul Thomas Anderson diehards have gossiped for months over reports that the filmmaker is shooting an undisclosed portion of his next film, known as The Master , on 65mm — the IMAX film format used recently, and to great effect, by the likes of Christopher Nolan and DP Wally Pfister on The Dark Knight and Brad Bird and DP Robert Elswit on Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol . In a Twitter exchange yesterday, Pixar veterans Bird, Andrew Stanton and Lee Unkrich geeked out over the joys of 70mm film, dropping a bit of confirmation that Anderson is indeed shooting in the format. In a conversation about 70mm exhibition and 65mm film shooting, Stanton — who just finished his first live-action foray, John Carter , for Disney — Tweeted: ” The Master is indeed in 65. They nearly lost a camera shooting in the Bay.” You’d think Bird would’ve known seeing as Ghost Protocol DP Elswit is Anderson’s longtime cinematographer, but… there you have it. Assuming Stanton is indeed in the know, this would confirm a report earlier this year by the Anderson-watchers at Cigarettes and Red Vines that Anderson was shooting The Master in 65mm with DP Mihai Malaimare Jr., who lensed Youth Without Youth , Tetro , and the forthcoming Twixt for Francis Ford Coppola. Though many speculate that the plot of The Master has ties to Scientology, all that is known officially is that it’s a post-WWII set drama revolving around a charismatic leader of a faith-based organization (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and a drifter who becomes his right-hand man (Joaquin Phoenix). In any case, it promises to be an unusual use of 65mm/70mm than what modern audiences are used to since the scope and visual detail that the format can achieve hasn’t really yet been employed in non-action usage. Surely cause for excitement — right, Anderson fans? (And for you Pixar fans — how amazing was it to witness the Tweet circle between Bird, Stanton, and Unkrich? So nerdy. So awesome.) [@ AndrewStanton , CinemaBlend , Cigarettes and Red Vines ]

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Twitter Chatter: Paul Thomas Anderson Shooting The Master on 65MM

Artist, Tree of Life Earn ASC Award Nominations

The American Society of Cinematographers recognized a typically diverse, eclectic gang of shooters this morning, singling out cinematographers from four countries — including two first-time nominees — in revealing its 2012 awards nominations. Congratulations to Guillaume Schiffman ( The Artist ), Jeff Cronenweth ( The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo ), Robert Richardson ( Hugo ), Hoyte van Hoytema ( Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy ) and Emmanuel Lubezki ( The Tree of Life ) on their nods from the esteemed trade group, which will announce its winner on Feb. 12. Last year’s winner, Inception cinematographer Wally Pfister, continued on to win an Academy Award. The news is arguably another blow for War Horse , which has now been ignored by three awards bodies of varying importance — the ASC, the Directors Guild and the Art Directors Guild — in the last week. But! Steven Spielberg’s film did receive a fantastic illustrated review , so there is that. High-fives to all! [ ASC ]

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Artist, Tree of Life Earn ASC Award Nominations

Uggie Captivates the BBC, Naturally

Uggie’s European sojourn carries on as planned, with appearances on both The Graham Norton Show and BBC News further bolstering the #ConsiderUggie campaign and the Artist wonder dog’s all-around awards-season cred. You cannot stop Uggie; you can only hope to contain him — with some sausages, I guess, but still. The BBC’s video is not embeddable (go here to see what Uggie thinks about that), but you can check out reporter David Sillito’s hard-hitting report at the network’s Web site. And continue to keep an eye on all things #ConsiderUggie at Facebook and Twitter ! Follow S.T. VanAirsdale on Twitter . Follow Movieline on Twitter .

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Uggie Captivates the BBC, Naturally

Talkback: Is The Artist’s Use of the Vertigo Theme Tantamount to Artistic ‘Rape?’

This just in: Kim Novak, star of Alfred Hitchcock ‘s Vertigo , has a beef with Oscar front-runner The Artist and its use of Bernard Herrmann’s iconic love theme from the 1958 classic. Let’s just cut to the chase and let Novak’s words speak for themselves: “I want to report a rape… my body of work has been violated by The Artist .” Say what, Ms. Novak? Rape? Director Michel Hazanavicius might prefer the term “homage,” but potato, po-tah-to… perhaps some elaboration is in order. Novak’s personal missive, for which she composed a press release and took out a full-page trade ad, continues via Deadline : “This film took the Love Theme music from Vertigo and used the emotions it engenders as its own. Alfred Hitchcock and Jimmy Stewart can’t speak for themselves, but I can. It was our work that unconsciously or consciously evoked the memories and feelings to the audience that were used for the climax of The Artist .” “There was no reason for them to depend on Bernard Herrmann’s score from Vertigo to provide more drama. Vertigo ’s music was written during the filming. Hitchcock wanted the theme woven musically in the puzzle pieces of the storyline. Even though they did given Bernard Herrmann a small credit at the end, I believe this kind of filmmaking trick to be cheating. Shame on them!” “It is morally wrong of people in our industry to use and abuse famous pieces of work to gain attention and applause for other than what the original work was intended. It is essential that all artists safeguard our special bodies of work for posterity, with their individual identities intact and protected.” Novak has a point, to a point: Using a well-known piece from a beloved classic can, consciously or subconsciously, evoke the emotion earned by that reference film. But does that mean The Artist cheated by borrowing on the emotional associations its audience had for Vertigo ? And, as personally as that citation hit Novak, is it fair to reduce the cinematic equivalent of sampling in hip-hop to such a gross violation? And if Bing Crosby was still around, would he make the same claim for the use of “Pennies from Heaven?” Chime in, Movieliners. • Not Everyone Loves ‘The Artist’: Kim Novak Feels Violated By Use Of ‘Vertigo’ Score [Deadline]

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Talkback: Is The Artist’s Use of the Vertigo Theme Tantamount to Artistic ‘Rape?’

REVIEW: If You’ve Seen One Demonic-Possession Movie and It’s The Devil Inside, You’ve Seen Them All

The characters who manned the cameras in  The Blair Witch Project and Cloverfield weren’t pros, providing an excuse for the shakiness and dizzy-making whip pans. Michael (Ionut Grama), the guy who’s supposed to be shooting the faux documentary  The Devil Inside,  is a filmmaker, so the fact that he can’t seem to keep anything in focus and frames shots so awkwardly is bewildering. Does this guy actually have a faux filmography, or is this his faux debut? And why does he mount cameras in multiple locations around his subject Isabella Rossi’s (Fernanda Andrade) car when he’s always with her anyway — does he imagine himself the Abbas Kiarostami of exorcism exposés? There’s a lot of downtime in which to consider issues like this in  The Devil Inside , a film co-written and directed by William Brent Bell ( Stay Alive ) that obviously aims for the same lower-budget found footage niche as the Paranormal Activity franchise. Like those films,  The Devil Inside ‘s most substantive aspect is its marketing — I cowered at its trailer whenever it ran before various holiday season offerings, and the poster highlights a shot from one of the two genuinely creepy possession sequences, featuring Suzan Crowley showing off the upside down cross carved on the inside of her lip. But the reality of  The Devil Inside is that it’s a half-hearted patchwork of ideas blatantly lifted from better films, with characters who have to act increasingly foolish in order to allow the action to go forward and an ending so anticlimactic and abrupt that the audience at the screening I attended erupted in enraged boos as the credits rolled. Crowley plays Maria Rossi, a housewife and the mother of Isabella, who one night in 1989 killed the nun and two priests who were attempted to exorcise the demons within her. Judged insane, she was transferred to a mental hospital in Rome, though the oddness of this (is that covered by her health insurance?) never seems to occur to Isabella, who’s grown up into a pretty twentysomething when she agrees to be the subject of Michael’s documentary. The two travel to Italy, where Isabella plans to visit her mother for the first time while also exploring the Vatican’s exorcism school, portrayed as a kind of Catholic Hogwarts with classes into which you can wander. At one of these lectures she meets priests Ben (Simon Quarterman) and David (Evan Helmuth), a pair of vigilante ordained exorcists (totally) who take an interest in her case. Isabella’s initial encounter with her mother at the hospital and the exorcism to which Ben and David later take her are both effective within  The Devil Inside ‘s low-budget parameters, thanks to the performers. Crowley, disheveled and bug-eyed, presents an uneasy combination of drugged-up dissociation and ominous flashes of lucidity, and the film’s switching between cameras makes the situation more unpredictable. The second sequence, in which the two priests attempt to cleanse a possessed girl named Rosa (Bonnie Morgan), has the benefit of contortionist Bonnie Morgan, who knots her body into wince-inducing shapes that would seem to require supernatural aid to maintain, then spits and screams and bleeds from her crotch. Neither offers anything new — if you’ve seen one demonic-possession movie and it’s  The Devil Inside , then you’ve seen them all, because it borrows liberally from every one of them. But both show more signs of focus than the rest of the film, which relies on meandering interviews and to-camera confessionals to pad out what little action there is to be had. And while this is a hardly a feature intended to be held up to close scrutiny, each subsequent twist the latter half takes is ever more laughable — why is a man allowed to just walk away after almost committing infanticide? Why do these characters who are obsessed with possession, who live and breathe it, not notice that it’s taking place under their own roof? Does it end the way it does because the filmmakers simply ran out of ideas, or did they become as fed up with these characters as we have? The found footage/fake documentary approach has plenty of benefits for the horror genre: It doesn’t require stars, it offers workaround for lower budgets and limited effects capabilities and it’s supposed to look a little cruddy. But good films in this subgenre have great concepts and demonstrate ingenuity in terms of filmmaking.  The Devil Inside just comes across as lazy and unnecessarily serious given how silly it becomes — if it had just a touch of lightness, at least it’d feel like we were laughing with it instead of at it.

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REVIEW: If You’ve Seen One Demonic-Possession Movie and It’s The Devil Inside, You’ve Seen Them All

Home Video Commentaries Are Up There With Best Ideas Ever

I’m a little late to this, but it’s not as if anything else is happening beyond the fecal tsunami that is the Iowa caucuses: Find herewith the childhood home videos of comic John Ramsey and his filmmaker brother Richard, with both siblings contributing commentary over the searing indie drama. Aspiring directors, take note! [via Andrew Sullivan , The Daily What ]

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Home Video Commentaries Are Up There With Best Ideas Ever

Goodbye, Dear Movieline

Dear family Movieliners, it is with a heavy heart that I inform you that after three lovely years together — spent dissecting nearly every James Franco General Hospital performance , evaluating Sylvester Stallone’s shirtless evolution onscreen and trying desperately to make sense out of the Adam Sandler Box Office Paradox — I am setting sail for a new horizon. Although I am sad to leave my friends at Movieline, I am excited to report that beginning next week, I will be writing daily for VanityFair.com’s Hollywood Blog . Consider this a formal invitation to visit me at my new home. In the meantime though, thanks are in order. Thank you to the tirelessly intelligent S.T. VanAirsdale, the wickedly funny Seth Abramovitch and the reliably witty Kyle Buchanan, all of whom initially took a chance on me, entertained me endlessly during the work day and gave me confidence in my writing. Thank you to Christopher Rosen, who not only nurtured my work but proved to be an excellent friend and Internet conversationalist when it comes to television and planning funerals fitting for action icons. Thank you to Jen Yamato, for being such a sweet and encouraging editor with a borderline scary dedication to karaoke. (One day, I will join you on the dark side of Koreatown.) Thank you to Movieline’s critics Stephanie Zacharek and Michelle Orange for their dependably beautiful prose on even the most hopeless pieces of cinema. Thank you to Mike Ryan, for inspiring me with your original and entertaining interviews. Thank you to Mark Lisanti, for flooring me with your consistently hilarious Alan Smithee features. And lastly, thank you to Louis Virtel, who made me snort-laugh and be self-conscious of my monotone delivery more than any single person I have ever known. It was a pleasure being your droll Movieline sidekick for two plus years. And finally, thank you to the wonderfully articulate readers and commenters, who continually kept me thinking and laughing long after my posts had been published. This is starting to sound like and Oscar acceptance speech though and I am simply leaving an Internet writing job, so I’ll cut this short. I enjoyed you all over the past three years and am proud to say I wrote for Movieline . Best of wishes in the new year. As always, you can reach out to me about Lifetime movies, cats and jigsaw puzzles on my Twitter feed ( @juliewmiller ) and beginning next week, you can read my musings on Hollywood at VanityFair.com. Yours, Julie Miller

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Goodbye, Dear Movieline

Friday Box Office: Mission: Totally Possible

Post-yuletide holiday crowds flocked to the same trio of sequels that dominated the Christmas box office — Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol , Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows , and Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked — while Summit newcomer The Darkest Hour limped into theaters waaaay under the radar. Meanwhile, Tom Cruise will be ringing in the new year with a number 1 box office finish, made all the sweeter by projections that Ghost Protocol will overtake the $134 million domestic take of the series’ last installment by Monday. Dive into your Friday Box Office! 1. MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE – GHOST PROTOCOL : $10,700,000 ($113,589,000) 2. SHERLOCK HOLMES: A GAME OF SHADOWS : $7,650,000 ($117,654,000) 3. ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS: CHIPWRECKED : $7,125,000 ($83,484,000) 4. THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO : $5,350,000 ($46,161,000) 5. THE ADVENTURES OF TINTIN : $4,900,000 ($32,387,000) 9. THE DARKEST HOUR : $1,700,000 (new) [Figures via Box Office Mojo ]

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Friday Box Office: Mission: Totally Possible

Surely I Can’t Be Serious: I Bid Farewell to Movieline

You can call me Shirley. It’s fine. Everything about writing a final post for Movieline is overwhelming, so bear with me as I wrap my head around how wonderful and challenging an experience I’ve had writing for this site for two and a half years. And what the hell? Let’s watch my favorite movie scene of all time too. So, yes. I’m leaving Movieline to become the West Coast Entertainment Editor for AfterElton.com, where I’ll be addressing Movieline-y topics once again — and with the same number of Sandy Dennis references. Please join me there from time to time! But before I depart, I have to thank my awesome, seriously reliable, astoundingly intelligent colleagues – including some who’ve been with me since my first post in August of ’09. Thank you to Stu VanAirsdale, a kickass writer, confidant, and the best writer I’ve ever worked with; to Kyle Buchanan, a great friend who convinced his boss to hire me; to Seth Abramovitch, who set the standard for Movieline hilarity; to Christopher Rosen, whose jocularity and love of Katy Perry singles added vigor to my Movieline experience; to Jen Yamato, whose supportive ebullience has been wonderful; to Stephanie Zacharek, Michelle Orange, and Alison Willmore, who are so right ; to Movieline’s killer commenters, you all tickle me inappropriately (especially The Winchester), and most of all, to my beloved Julie Miller, who forded a hundred Television Critics Association panels with me, listened when I needed consultation on an article, tweet, or Facebook profile photo, and responded to my every issue with ladylike, yet monotone reassurance. I already miss you all. And Anjelica Huston . You were maybe the best. I’m always jealous when I interview a celebrity and he/she gets to play Movieline’s fun feature My Favorite Scene . So, as a last-minute act of defiance, I’m hitting you with my fave moment in cinematic history. In Rear Window , when Grace Kelly and Thelma Ritter search the courtyard for – y’know – a dead lady, James Stewart watches on in astonishment as Grace opts for autonomy, climbs into a murder suspect’s (Raymond Burr) apartment, and puts her own life at risk. Grace’s sudden empowerment is so dazzling, cool, and self-possessed, it’s like she invented Madonna in that moment. And we all know how much that means to me . For further Virtel adventures, you can find me in my web series Verbal Vogueing and see me in my second Chelsea Lately roundtable appearance this January 18th on E! Thanks for everything, guys. My (Hitchcock) blonde ambition is more ferocious than ever.

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Surely I Can’t Be Serious: I Bid Farewell to Movieline