MERU (2015)

Trapped in a flimsy contraption tacked to crumbly cliff a mile high and swaying in a snowstorm hurricane, fuel running low and little food for several days, is exactly how I envision spending my vacation days. NOT! And this is not to mention the still-daunting task of scaling the remainder of sheer granite above as well as eventually getting down, as your fingers and toes no longer register feeling and the altitude is doing nasty things to your body, seen and unseen. Yep, high-altitude climbers are crazy. Yet their daring, skill, and drive is so darn appealing and intriguing, possibly an acknowledgement that any sane person would never undertake such risks. And there is the ever-present specter of Death. I have watched and read many mountaineering movies and books. But the recently released Meru is one of the best I have enjoyed. Two experienced and climber-lauded icons, Conrad Anker and Jimmy Chin (who is a wonderful photographer as well), along with relative newcomer Renan Ozkurk (who only a little earlier barely survived a snowboarding accident that crushed his head and neck), determinedly attack the never-summitted Himalayan Meru, a technically difficult pitch that required expertise in multiple methods and equipment, partly in homage to a fallen mentor and because no one else has accomplished it. The lure of the never before. Although it fits well into the growing body of documentaries on mountaineering, this one is gorgeously beautiful, intense, and informative, without being too hokey or artificially ramping up the tension. The section recording Chin's experience in an avalanche will scare the bejesus out of any one. I love John Krakauer's commentary, as well as interviews of participants and family, and some of the historical background. There is almost nothing I can say negative about this film. Anyone who likes adventure or climbing will love it.

MANUSCRIPTS DON'T BURN

Iranian screenwriter and director Mohammad Rasoulof has balls. Really big ones, my friends. While awaiting disposition for his conviction on earlier charges, and apparently while still living in Tehran, he wrote and directed his most recent film, Manuscripts Don't Burn (2013), which is about domestic intelligence agents carrying out a mission against several intellectuals and writers who have either written about, are contemplating writing about, or are protecting an existing manuscript that describe an earlier failed assassination attempt against twenty-one writers (by driving them in a bus off a cliff) by the repressive and murderous regime. One agent, a bumbling everyman with concern for the welfare of his family, especially an ill son who is seeking surgery in a hospital, and whose participation in the events depicted struggles with his role, is also ironically the same individual who muffed the original assassination attempt. One wonders, and it is hinted at, that he was specifically chosen for this current assignment. The unit is headed by a smooth, dapper, creepy, intense case manager/censor, and the hunt is on for the original manuscript and any existing copies. The third agent (discounting that there are other members of the organization participating, but they are mostly in support roles and you see only one of them), is a thuggish, idealistic professional hitman who seems to represent the basij element in Iranian society. The targets are three men: a noted author trying to get his book into print without it being censored; his friend and fellow intellectual, entrusted to hide a copy; and a dying third writer who is desperate to get an exit visa from the country in order to see his daughter one last time. The movie is purposely gray, filmed in shadow or in rain, with muted colors and low horizon, reflecting the blanket of oppression experienced by most Iranians since the ascension of clerical rule. About the only light I remember was a prominent display of the Milad Tower through a window at night. The depiction of domestic repression and surveillance is chilling; though seemingly crude in many ways, it is all encompassing and intrusive, and the reaction of participants, even as they resist, is one of defeat. The simple torture of one individual is intense and disturbing, as he struggles for breath. One can only imagine the bravery, not only of Rasoulof, but of the actors and crew that worked on this film. And I know, as an American, though I have love and empathy for the Iranian people, there are likely many visual and verbal references and allusions that sweep right by my, that probably intensify the story for those lucky enough to see the movie in Iran, or those many exiles around the globe. Clearly most knowledgeable people are aware of Evin, the oppression of women, and the intrusive policing and spying by domestic agencies, but this movie brings that reality into, oddly enough, sharper focus. Although there are many chilling and depressing incidents in the movie, one particular scene (which I will not spoil for you) is especially troubling, the conclusion as cloudy as the cinematography, but darkly implied nonetheless. This is not a feel-good movie. I encourage people to view it, and hope the underground distribution network makes it available to Iranians at home. Of course, it won't be telling them anything they don't already know. And I hope Rasoulof has a long career, though his walking so close to the edge of the abyss is scary.

While I am on the subject of Iran, I must heartily applaud the equally brave stance by many women protesting against mandatory hajib usage by posting pictures online with their hair uncovered. As you would think God intended, because he made women beautiful. I proudly support Masih Alinejad and Stealthy Freedoms of Iranian Women. Repression, oppression, and and other evils have many opponents, none greater and more influential than women! If all women could unite in their countries and break the restrictions imposed by men, I think this world would be a wonderful place. We can only hope.

MAD MAX: FURY ROAD

Thirty or so years ago I caught ROAD WARRIOR, and then backtracked to MAD MAX, both movies I really enjoyed, especially their gritty and nonstop-action chase scenes. Mel Gibson was perfect as Max. Surprisingly, possibly because of the less than worthy THUNDERDOME, which I still kind of liked, there were no more sequels. . .until now. I was quite excited when I heard about the new film, and despite knowing what I would likely get, the recent installment FURY ROAD was a bit less than I would have desired. Yes, there was some impressive stunt work, but it is basically one long chase scene, spectacular at times, but not as viscerally intense or humorous or even thrilling as the ROAD WARRIOR version. Charlize Theron was very good though; she seemed to overshadow Tom Hardy. I loved the tough band of older motorcycle warrior women. Still, so many questions popped in my head. Why were there so many people at the cult camp and how were they surviving (you'd think extraneous individuals would have been eliminated)? Was the mammary pumping stuff necessary? The chasing warriors never seemed as menacing as they should have been, perhaps because they seemed comical ghosts. How would Furiosa ever have been able to maintain contact with the mountain biker guys? How did Furiosa's old crew survive? I would have liked a little more introduction to the individual worlds, even a quick visit to the old pumping station (which I am assuming was based on the RW one). How did the filmmakers avoid killing a bunch of stuntpeople? Anyway, see it on big screen. Just enjoy the ride and don't expect too much.

JOHN WICK

In honor of Charles Bronson's birthday, I will review the Keanu Reaves (who I think did a credible job as a retired hitman forced back into service on a personal mission of revenge)vehicle, John Wick, which though a violent killfest, was slick and fast paced, and pretty darn enjoyable. Sure, bodies are blown to bits, and there are plenty of UFC-style tussles, and character development loses out to action. Still, I can easily see this character returning. Michael Nyqvist was excellent as the Russian mob boss. I really didn't love Alfie Allen in his role, probably because he sounded too British to me, and his character was a punk. I have always enjoyed Willem Dafoe, and he does not disappoint; likewise, John Leguizamo is good in a small cameo. Really, there were some powerful actors. I like Dean Winters, but he seemed a tad miscast in his role; I would have liked better had the guy who really challenged Wick had done this part. It seems like Lance Reddick gets typecast in similar roles, but he is so unique, and I have much liked his performances. I was certain that David Patrick Kelly, of The Warriors fame, played the "Cleaner", but I had to check, and I was right. I must applaud the many stunt guys, as I really thought many of them were wonderful in their short appearances. I was fascinated by the hotel safe grounds, and the use of the coins. Overall, I thought this was pretty darn entertaining, and can easily see several avenues for possibly expanding this into a franchise.

RELUCTANT FUNDAMENTALIST

So many Americans see the Middle East/Western conflict in black and white terms and often focus on what makes people different than what there is in common. But the reality is far more complex, especially on the personal level. Indian-born film director Mira Nair's The Reluctant Fundamentalist (2012) follows the career of the ambitious, intelligent, Princeton-educated Pakistani Changez (played very ably by Riz Ahmed) as he storms the halls of Wall Street as an up-and-coming analyst for a hedge fund, whose world spirals out of control following 9-11 and the unraveling of a love affair with a New York photographer that forces him to return to Pakistan. Caught up in the political turmoil of his region and campus, a reporter (played by Liev Schreiber) seeks him out to find important information, but Changez is determined to tell his story. There are so many ways to view this movie, one as an instructive tale of American ignorance and arrogance and the driving away of potentially sympathetic allies. Of simple-minded racism and prejudice in a changing world at home and abroad. One might say that culture never really leaves an individual and that people will always return to their roots. One might see how injustice, mistreatment, and emotional pain can wreck an individual. I know that one scene where Changez's girlfriend (played by Kate Hudson) does something that cuts him to the core affected me deeply: I could imagine myself walking into a situation where my personal life is displayed to others and being mortified, angry, and even retaliatory. Kiefer Sutherland is also good as Riz's Ameican mentor and boss. I think the hedge fund chopping up failing companies and heartlessly puting workers on the street is a stand-in for how some feel about drone strikes or Western incursions and such in the Middle East. A sense of impotance. Still, this is ultimately about the fact that some people, despite homegrown pressures, refuse to simply follow paths chosen for them, though the price can be high. It is a human story, well told.

ORDA

Watched last night Andrei Proshkin's Orda [The Horde] (2012), a story of the fourteenth-century conflict between the fledgling Christian Muscovites and the Muslim Tartar "horde," when Metropolitan Alexius is requested to come heal the eyesight of the Tartar queen mother. In many ways it feels like a standard "saint" film, a Christian vehicle to explain the reasons for beatification of an important religious figure, a film that likely wouldn't have been made or supported by the Russian state only a few decades ago. And as well a historical/mythmaking of the origins of the state. I don't know how accurate the filmmakers were in recreating the Russian world of this age, but it felt "right." I suspect the portrayal of the "barbarians" and their lifestyle may be biased, but I really don't know much about the time or region. I wasn't overly impressed with the acting or plot, but it was still interesting.

NEW WORLD

Watched tonight a decent gangster movie from South Korea, New World (2013), about a deep undercover cop within one of the strongest criminal enterprises in the country, who desperately wants out so he can protect his future child and wife, but things start spiraling out of control after the mafia boss dies and competing interests vie for power. Pretty good acting and action, a bit bloody (what is it with the baseball bats and long knives?), a few good twists. Entertaining. If you like foreign films and gangster movies, you might find this one up your alley.

ENGLISH VINGLISH

Watched tonight a nice little Indian (Southeast Asian) movie, English Vinglish, written and directed by Gauri Shinde. Although it is about an Indian women who attempts to crash-learn English while in New York for a month for her niece's wedding, it is really about chasing dreams, earning respect (especially from those who are close to you and overlook you), being fearless, finding love and understanding for people different from yourself. Although some, especially audiences used to standard American movies, might find this movie a little blunt in the presentation, and some of the acting clearly is a slight bit off what one might expect from a more polished American screenwriter, it is still a quite enjoyable and delightful film. Sridevi (apparently a popular actor In India) is wonderful as Shashi, who is awed by New York and vulnerable to the slights of her family and strangers, but nonetheless undertakes to learn English on the sly in four weeks with a small class of fellow newcomers, all chasing their dreams. She also has to deal with a crush of a French student (a chef by trade), who challenges her beliefs and emotions (and to a certain extent is a bit pushy and presumptuous, in my view). Yes, there are certain cultural stereotypes perpetuated in the movie, but they are handled lovingly (except perhaps the unhelpful African American cashier). The cinematography is good, I thought. The movie touched me personally because my siblings and I often teased my Ukrainian-immigrant mother for her occasionally poor English and mispronunciations (though she was probably more intelligent than all four of us combined). This is not your typical Bollywood with big musical numbers, although there is a little dancing, yet most people will enjoy the movie if they give it a chance.

RUM DIARY

Johnny Depp, who earlier played a Hunter Thompson-like character in Fear and Loathing (1998) returns to portray a younger version of the gonzo journalist as a neophyte drunk, yet already crusading journalist, working for an on-the-skids newspaper (helmed by the manic Lotterman, played by character actor Richard Jenkins) in late-1950s Puerto Rico in The Rum Diary (2011), based upon one of Thompson's early novels. Journeyman actor Michael Rispoli does a good job as his news photographer sidekick and guide Sala, Giovani Ribisi plays a rum-addled Nazi sympathizer who introduces his roommates to LSD (I think), and the very lovely Amber Heard plays his love interest (and the squeeze of a corrupt land developer played by Aaron Eckhart). Although a financial disappointment (I have heard), it really wasn't a bad movie overall, if you don't mind going on a long nostalgic bender to the beautiful Caribbean isle, as the locals increasingly rise up against their racist American masters and despoilers (sufficiently Marxist for you?), and the protagonist uncovers and exposes a shady land deal. I wouldn't give the movie any major award, but I did find it entertaining.

MOVIE 43

Tried to watch Movie 43 and couldn't even get through the first two sections. Although it might be wrong to judge having seen so little, but if they foreshadowed the rest of the movie, which I think they probably did, then DO NOT WASTE your time. Repellent, disgusting, unfunny. Maybe 13-year old boys would like it. But they might even gag. How they got these big names to participate, I don't know. Blackmail, I think. I am not impressed at all. I was taken in by the long list of well-known actors, but this scatological waste of time should make people want to puke. There are bad movies, but this is intentionally bad. Whoever green-lit this monstrosity need to have their head examined.

BOY

Although I like the big-budget blockbusters as much as the next guy, often the movies that are the best and touch my heart the most are the small, independent (and in this case foreign) films that have a wonderful and touching story to tell. Such is the case with Boy (2010), about an eleven-year old boy in 1980s New Zealand who is left at his nana's house while she is away to a funeral entrusted with caring for his younger brother and assorted cousins. His mother died in childbirth and the father is a ne'er-do-well in jail; his brother believes he has magical powers; and he is smitten by Michael Jackson, and an unattainable older girl from school. Suddenly the immature father arrives with two hanger-ons, intent on finding money he stashed in a field, and while he is searching he tries to reestablish some sort of relationship with his kids. He is a big failure, but he is still their dad. A really nice little film, that I would show to anyone, although there is a little bit of violence and pot smoking and drinking. James Rolleston is wonderful in the lead role, and Te Aho Aho EketoneWhitu is good as his younger brother. Taika Waititi wrote, directed, and starred as the father.

One unfortunate decision they made was not to include captioning for the hearing impaired, as I had some trouble understanding what the characters were saying.I got most of it, but I hate missing out.

QUARTET

Sometimes we (especially those of us approaching the latter years) have to be reminded that we are all getting older and that some of us, God willing, shall get to experience life in a retirement home. We should also remember that old wounds, loving interests and skills, solid friendships---despite the attack of time on body and mind---continue into advanced age, not the least among those for whom the arts was the reigning theme of their lives. This is well presented in the delightful movie The Quartet, directed by Dustin Hoffman, about four celebrated opera singers who end up at the same English retirement manor, the last just arriving and throwing the other three into a bit of a snit, especially one who was briefly married and terribly hurt by the newcomer. It really is a story of frayed (and solid) friendships, forgiveness, and the future (short as it might be for some), as well as the delight in performing that is really the core of all those who were professionals at the arts. Tom Courtenay, as the unforgiving and bitter cuckold Reginald, and Billy Connolly, as his overly randy but humorously entertaining life-long bud Wilf, are as delightful a screen pairing that I can recall. Pauline Collins is wonderful as the kindhearted, possibly formerly flirty or ditsy Cissy, member of the quartet who are living at Beecham House (and in many ways the grounds and building are another sterling part of the cast), but who is approaching senility at a slightly faster clip then her fellow singers. Into the mix arrives Maggie Smith, the unbending and formerly pampered by broken diva Jean. Michael Gambon, best known as Dumbledore in the Harry Potter series, plays the cantankerous old director. The rest of the cast is sprinkled with actual retired musicians, and they, as well as other regular actors with lesser roles, are all wonderful. There did not seem to be a single misstep. I especially loved how the film showed how egos and rivalries (and perhaps grudging respect) continue into old age, the steel perhaps weakened but the edge still sharp. The soundtrack is nice, and even though opera is not my thing, I loved all of the music. In other words, you do not have to be an aficionado to enjoy the movie, and I will admit to shedding a few tears. 

DARK CITY

Watched last night the strange noirish-sci-fi movie Dark City (1998), about a constantly changing urban area (similar to a 1940s-50s New York City) constructed in space that was formed and manipulated telepathically by a dying race of extra-terrestrials, who by using and frequently altering the memories of human beings (possibly former dead bodies, but this is unsure) seek to discover the soul. The infrastructure seems to change nightly during "tuning" by a gathering of Strangers, who also imprint different memories in specific humans to see how they might react to new surroundings and events. A few humans (including a doctor who works with the aliens, played by Keifer Sutherland, and a former detective who appears mentally unbalanced) are aware that the city is always in nighttime mode and that people and places are changing. After a series of murders of prostitutes, another detective (played by the great William Hurt) takes the case and gradually comes to a new understanding of his world. The alleged murdered, who after he leaves his cheating wife is programed by the Strangers to kill, suddenly develops powers akin to that of the alien host, and a conflict is set up between he and his handlers. The photography is very dark, a throwback to 1940s style, but that also informs future films (I think), such as The Crow and Sin City, for instance, which the story seems to foreshadow later efforts such as The Matrix and Inception. The reason I thought perhaps characters were already dead and just reanimated was when people fall asleep during tuning, some are clearly placed in positions where they should die, such as drowning in a bowl of soup or a bath. The test subjects are basically rats in a maze, several times alluded to by Sutherland's characters giant rat maze. The movie was very good. There are some questions though. Why didn't the Strangers fix the crazy detective (did they just want to see what would happen)? Was Hurt's character changed, even slightly during the investigation, or were very small changes and flips of character traits just something that happened with all the telepathy-alterations. If the aliens could so thoroughly and spectacularly change the physical surroundings, and could make people fall asleep with a wave of hand, why couldn't they just imprint memories themselves, and not through some injection? Perhaps the injections just made the process that much more creepy. I loved the shadows and the costumes. Some of the fight scenes could have been made a bit more menacing and scary.

INTO DARKNESS

Took the boys to see Star Trek Into Darkness this weekend and they enjoyed it very much. A lot of spectacular action on the big screen. And regardless of Sarah's assessment, I was able to follow the plot, Quinto's dark eyes notwithstanding. Ha! Still, I was not as happy with this film as I was of the first Abram's contribution. I kept saying to myself, "I've seen this before," or knew what actions the individual characters would take (perhaps as it should be with people who love and and have watched every Star Trek incarnation). Perhaps the first installment set the bar high. Simon Pegg was wonderful. I like that the other characters get to do more this time. How was there was a fetching blonde scientist on board and no romantic entanglement (beyond a hint) with Kirk? There was some photoediting on her, but we will resist detailing it for those who did not notice. I was not totally taken by Benedict Cumberbatch as Khan, not that he was bad either. I liked the nods to the former show, such as mention of Nurse Chappell and the Triffids. The son of the legendary James Doohan had a smal part as transporter officer, which was cool. There were great scenes, such as the ship spiraling downward toward Earth as the crew tries to control its descent. And I liked the fight with the Klingons, but come on. . .Klingon special forces looked pretty weak in that segment (they should have been capable of causing a few casualties). I kind of hated the 'Kirk in the reactor" sequence, especially the scene with Spock. I would very much have liked more interior scenes of the Enterprise (I am kind of geeky like that, I love seeing where the regular crew works and lives). Still, I hope this franchise, and many more permutations, live long and prosper.

CHICKEN WITH PLUMS

Unrequited love is painful and can turn a heart to stone, though life goes on. It can also have inspirational, as well as tragic, aspects. Such is the case in the French-Iranian film collaboration Chicken with Plums (2011), directed by Marjane Satrapi (of Persepolis fame) and Vincent Paronnaud. The movie features an international cast, headed by Mathieu Amalric, who plays Nasser-Ali Khan, a broken-hearted Iranian violin player who parlayed a failed relationship into world-renowned ability on a special instrument given to him by his mentor, but who is also a lousy husband and father. The object of his affection is the stunningly beautiful Irân, played by Iranian actress Golshifteh Farahani (who is every bit as lovely as French actress Virginie Ledoyen, one of my faves). Khan's long-suffering, and somewhat shrewish wife is played by Portuguese actress Maria de Medeiros (who at 48 is still beautiful). Long-time Italian beauty Isabella Rossellini has a small role. Edouard Baer is wonderful and creepy as the dark angel Azrael. All of the actors, from the youngest on up, were wonderful and represented a United Nations of acting, including Armenia, Spain, Chile, Germany, and others. The movie is darkly humorous, following the last days of Khan's life as he gives up, but recalls the path that brings him to his demise. There are some really funny parts, one of my favorite of which is when a sinister shopowner trying to sell a violin to Khan offers a dab of the poppy to settle his overactive child (hinted at), and the next day when Khan delivers the son to his grandmother, the tyke looks up and asks her, "Do you have any opium?" The filmmakers combined effectively some animation and puppetry into the live action, and there is lovely photography and scenes. The movie won praise at last year's Tribeca and is definitely worth checking out. Although the movie is in French, it seems to me it would have been a tad better had it been done in Farsi.

PANAHI

To be an artist in Iran---whether it be music, film, dance, writing, or just about any such endeavor---and to truly express one's views on society or step outside the rigid parameters set by the cleric-run government is to creatively maneuver around the oppressive censorship binding freedom of expression and to be then willing to pay a mighty high price for the attempt and the affront to those in power. Such experienced pain is beautifully presented in Jafar Panahi (the award-winning Iranian filmmaker) and Mojtaba Mirtahmasb's This is Not a Film (2011), a satirical attack against state censorship of movie making and a cry for reform, even as the former awaits news of the final judgement that will certainly send him to jail for some period (six years) and possibly take away his ability to ever produce a film again (twenty-year ban). I have enjoyed several of his films over the years, which often focus on restrictions in Iranian society (specially those placed on women) and continued class divisions. Filmed partly in iPhone in Panahi's posh apartment as he suffered house arrest, the "movie" masterfully pokes fun at the stupidity of censors, but also reveals how painful and scared his is that he will soon be seriously punished and be denied the opportunity to continue creating. His films have largely been banned in his own country, but have been richly and frequently awarded and are hailed internationally. As I write this review he is still in jail, a persecuted artist who dared to chide the authorities, and I hope continued international protest and whatever else can be brought to bear pressure can obtain his swift release and return him to what he does best, making movies, documentaries, and "nonmovies".

THE BAND'S VISIT

A small Egyptian police band, lead by a stern but likeable conductor with a dark secret, arrives in Israel to play a concert for an Arab Culture center and gets lost in the shuffle, landing in a quiet desert town by accident. Craziness ensues, right? No, in fact, what happens in Eran Kolirin's The Band's Visit (2007) is a heartwarming and lightly comedic look at the interplay of culturally different people with common human problems. This is a wonderful little film. Sasson Gabai (an Iraqi-born actor) is absolutely wonderful as Tawfiq Zacharya (often called The General), leader of the group and determined to preserve the finances, dignity, and tradition of his band. The darkly beautiful Ronit Elkabetz is Dina, a lonely yet vibrant restaurant worker in the almost deserted town who takes the lost musicians under her wing. She is kind of the whore with the heart of gold. Saleh Bakri is the youngest and newest member of the band, and the cad. There are several other smaller parts, all well played, each contributing small bits to the overall picture. The pacing is wonderful and the director does not try to force comedy by creating farcical mischief. The interplay is often melancholy, as the characters often glimpse the personal side of their counterparts, and the commentary is done with a light hand, as when one band member sitting in a cafe covers a photograph celebrating some Israel defeat of their Egyptian foes. To me the film spoke to the commonality of people, that our differences do not mean connections cannot be forged, kindnesses offered and accepted.

CRIMSON GOLD

Criminality in modern Iran is something one doesn't normally think of (except perhaps smuggling and trade in illegal merchandise), but of course it exists. Perhaps for Iranians it is a more pressing concern. Director Jafar Panahi takes viewers into this subculture in Crimson Gold (2003), focusing on events that lead Hussein (played by Hossain Emadeddin) into a life of petty crime, then on to a more-daring act, partly as a result of emotional distress and an assault to his ego by the actions of upper-class Iranians. Hussein is an unkempt, overweight, laconic, slothful droopy-eyed man who may have served as a soldier on the Iran-Iraq front (although it may also have been a con to get more money). He appears to be somewhat "slow," or perhaps not well schooled, though he seems to get along. Hussein and his pal Ali (played by Kamyar Sheisi) are moped pizza-delivery guys who do petty crimes (such as purse snatching) on the side. Engaged to be married to Ali's sister, he realizes that he cannot afford expensive baubles for his future wife and he then feels put down by a rich jeweler because of his social status. He is also cavalierly mistreated by members of the basij (who do not care about is loss of revenue) during an operation to arrest people attending a party. He gets a glimpse of the extravagant, hidden world of the very wealthy while delivering pizza to a posh, upscale apartment where the man of the house also uses wines and has women visit him there. One wonders if Panahi's critique is against continued class division or the folly of policing illicit activities. I was familiar with Panahi's work from Offside (2006), his tale of women being excluded from attending male soccer games and the determination of one girl to break that stricture; he has a reputation for criticizing post-revolutionary life in Iran, and his films are often banned. I look forward to seeing his This Is Not a Film (2011). I was interested in the background shots, and frightened by the traffic scenes. How anyone would dare ride a moped in that traffic craziness is beyond me. Intentionally or not, some of the traffic shots showed cars going just about anywhere the drivers chose to, including directly into oncoming traffic or against the flow, and lane didn't seem to matter much. How cars were not bouncing off each other is unclear, although one moped driver is run over in the movie.

GO-JI-JEON

War is Hell. That is even more true when the combatants are engaged in a civil war, such as fought on the Korean peninsula following WWII as proxies for the communists and western democracies slugged it out on a frozen, often desolate landscape while negotiators of a truce spent years haggling over the diplomatic table. I was hesitant to try South Korean director Hun Jang's movie Go-ji-jeon: The Front Line (2011), but I am happy I watched it nonetheless. Some of the scenes were as good as in Saving Private Ryan and other superior American efforts. Counter intelligence officer Kang Eun-Pyo (played ably by Ha-kyun Shin) arrives in the Aerok Hills of eastern Korea to ferret out a suspected spy where he finds his old friend Kim Soo-Hyeok (Soo Go) who he thought had been killed in an earlier engagement. Kim soon reveals to Kang the tragic existence his battalion has endured, repeatedly taking and losing the same bloody hill, so often in fact that the sides leave hidden presents for each other every time they retreat, and the mounting toll of death, disability, and despair. Junior officers do what they can to protect their men, all the way to mutiny, as they face an equally determined foe on the field (and a particularly accurate sniper as well), but as the truce nears both sides calls upon these much-abused troops to plunge into a final all-out engagement. The viewer gets an often overlooked view at what life may have been like for Korean troops in a largely forgotten war, reminding us that American soldiers were not the only ones to die, and that there was a multiplicity of actions and reactions experienced by our allies. Overall the acting is very good, the story is interesting and well told, the photography wonderful. I am sure that the actors are familiar to their home audience. Definitely not a feel-good film, but I enthusiastically recommend it to anyone who enjoys war movies and enjoys action that also condemns the brutality and senselessness (and stupidity) often accompanying bravery, sacrifice, and patriotic soldiering. Several scenes will stay with me for a long time: a young injured war orphan reacts to the taunt of an angry soldier, and a poignant moment played out between the warring sides as they prepare to engage.

LAZHAR

Coping with grief is one of life's toughest challenges, and even more so when children (and those who work with them) are faced with traumatic death. In the Oscar-nominated French-Canadian movie Monsieur Lazhar (2011), written and directed by Philippe Falardeau and based upon a play by Evelyne de la Cheneliere, an Algerian refugee seeking asylum status in Montreal and dealing with family tragedy himself wrangles an appointment to take over the fifth-grade (I think) class whose beloved teacher committed suicide in their classroom, the aftermath which was witnessed by two of her students. Mohamed Fellag is wonderful as Bachir Lazhar, struggling to cope with exile and loss while reaching out to and providing structure for a classroom of adolescents reacting in various ways to the loss of their teacher, as well as trying to make his way in a foreign land (as far different in culture as can almost be imagined). Amazingly, the kids are made to continue their studies in the same classroom. Sophie Nelisse does an exceptional job as the young Alice (one of the students who saw the body), who basically has to deal with her emotions by herself but who feels a connection to her new teacher and manages to confront directly what has happened. All of the cast, even the children, did a wonderful job. I loved when one of the children points out that they are handling the situation better than the teachers. The film also critiques the overreaction of adminstrators (and parents) against all forms of touching students (such as giving hugs of support). I was a bit surprised that there disn't seem to be enough helath care and counseling provided to the one child who needed it most. The movie could easily have been made into a sentimental tear-jerker, but it does not choose that path. This is a delightful movie and I heartily recommend it.