I'll See You in My Dreams

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Brett Haley/Starring: Blythe Danner, Sam Elliott, Mary Kay Place, Rhea Perlman, June Squibb and Martin Starr

It's nice to know a film like I'll See You in My Dreams received proper marketing because Hollywood's virulent aversion to promoting movies cast with women over 40 is still an unfortunate reality. And though the industry's Dead-After-Forty regard for women persists, sometimes pleasing aberrations like Brett Haley's film manage to sneak their way into local theaters.

Featuring a mostly mature, ensemble cast led by Blythe Danner and Sam Elliott, the film doesn't push a sensationalized Bucket List or Last Vegas, let's-have-one-last-romp-before-total-senescence premise. Instead, we see something more gentle and touching that bears some resemblance to reality.

The narrative focal point; Carol Peterson (the estimable Blythe Danner) is a woman who spends her days in her small, suburban L.A. community playing cards with her other gray-haired friends and spending time around her house. The days pass comfortably. If the anxieties of aging aren't entirely conspicuous, they nevertheless lurk somewhere in the psyches of Carol and her group.

When the film begins, Carol has just lost her beloved canine companion Oscar. As he rests on a veterinarian's table awaiting euthanasia, Carol offers a tearful farewell.

Later, grieving alone in her house, she hears stirring. When she investigates the sound, she discovers a rat, scurrying about. Frightened, Carol decides to spend the night outdoors on her patio couch, near her pool. The next morning she is startled awake by the pool cleaner, Lloyd (a disarming and charming Martin Starr) and though she is curt with him at first, she enlists his help in Her rat-search. Unsuccessful, he leaves but upon his return, Carol invites him in for a glass of wine, which forms the basis of a platonic companionship. Most dialogue we hear in movies serves mostly as expository data but director Brett Haley would rather we hear what has become an endangered species in film: real conversation. Not only do we learn something of Carol and Lloyd's respective pasts in their engaging colloquy, but we also glean something about their characters in the manner by which they tell their stories. Haley makes their conversation something more than just factoid spillage.

We learn Carol was once a singer in her youth but abandoned it almost overnight. We also learn she was once a teacher and has been alone for twenty years since she lost her husband in a plane crash. She also mentions her daughter, who she hasn't seen in some time. Lloyd tells a sad story about his move from Austin to be with his mother; though he is quick to point out that his mother may not actually like having him around. One evening, as he takes his leave of Carol, he tells her she is an excellent drinking buddy.

Meanwhile, as Carol's friends gather for their regular card game, the conversation inevitably turns to dating and meeting men, which is of little interest to her. Her friend Sally (Rhea Perlman), talks her into trying speed dating; an experience that proves to be comically unfortunate.

But while browsing the pharmacy at a local drugstore, a handsome man her age offers her a compliment. She sees the same man at the country club and again later in a parking lot. He strikes up a conversation with her then asks for her number. The two eventually meet for a date on his boat where the man, whose name is Bill (the charismatic Sam Elliott) invites Carol out for a fishing excursion. In the course of a dinner conversation, he tells Carol he has no family and doesn't like to be alone. But his easy-going charm proves to be irresistible. As their relationship simmers, Carol begins to fall under his spell. But one morning at Carol's breakfast table, Bill mentions marriage, which elicits a wary response. It doesn't help that Lloyd shows up at her door, hoping to spend time with Carol, only to meet Bill.

As the idea of forming something permanent with Bill takes hold, the story takes a tragic, unexpected turn. The misfortune coincides with Carol's daughter Katherine's (Malin Ackerman) visit. Some mild tensions between mother and daughter surface shortly thereafter.

In aftermath of the tragedy, Carol finds her odd but satisfying friendship with Lloyd and her circle of friends to be an indispensable balm. An upbeat ending, where Carol and her friends spontaneously hatch a plan to take a trip, is a nice coda to a story whose simplicity is one of its strongest attributes.

A film so character and dialogue-driven can only work if 1) The dialogue isn't talky time-filler and 2) the director can craft an affective story from limited narrative tools. We've seen many films about aging men and women, staving off the depredations of old age but Haley's film is something else. For once the characters aren't battling Alzheimers's. Instead, they face the most harrowing condition of old age: loneliness. Fortunately for Carol, her circle of friends prove to be socially and emotionally satisfying. It is a rare occasion when we see women who don't necessarily need men to validate their existence; though, in Sally and Rona's (Mary Kay Place) cases, they aren't exactly averse to the idea. The film seems to embrace the refreshing notion that friendship can be as fulfilling, if not more, than romantic relationships. This is borne out in the speed-dating scene, where Carol finds the prospective lovers to be needy, unusually randy or just hopelessly incompatible.

And of course the film would be the poorer if the leads weren't as magnetic as Danner and Elliott. I can't remember a time Danner ever had the lead role in a film and it is sad to think it has only happened now in the autumn of her career (late winter, by Hollywood's reckoning). Danner's character isn't a sunny geriatric but someone whose personality and life is more nuanced. Though we might not normally notice someone like Carol if we saw her in a grocery store, Danner makes her someone worthy of our attention. Elliott is no less compelling. For the little we see of him in the film, he makes his presence known (doesn't he always?) and gives a seemingly confident, content man somber shadings. Martin Starr is also intriguing. He is quite terrific at being both comic relief and embodying a character whose life is something other than triumphant.

I think the film slips a bit when Carol and her friends decide to toke medicinal marijuana. The subsequent scene of the women standing before a grocery counter with mounds of junk food seems a little obligatory though I guess it is somewhat fun. The Carol/Katherine story also seemed a bit rote and maybe unnecessary. The film would have lost little if Ackerman's character had been edited out of the narrative.

Haley, who also co-wrote the script, goes for understatement, which proves to be a sound approach. No melodrama or grandiose, theater-like pronunciations; only the drama of the quotidian.

I liked Haley's film; it had a few surprises and seductive charms. Danner and Elliott together onscreen was reason enough to see the film, but it didn't rest on the lead's volcanic appeal.

I don't know what kind of life I'll See You in My Dreams will enjoy in the theaters but it deserves more than the modest box office it will most likely earn. Let's hope it doesn't get stomped by Mad Max and Iron Man on its way to streaming oblivion.

Poltergeist (2015)

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Gil Kenan/Starring: Sam Rockwell, Rosemary DeWitt, Jared Harris, Jane Adams, Kennedi Clements, Saxon Sharbino and Kyle Catlett

I never saw the original Poltergeist so I can only offer an assessment of this reboot or remake (the distinction puzzles me). I was never really frightened or even mildly creeped out watching director Gil Kenan's version; I only felt inclined to stretch and wait for the predictable procession of conventional scares to exhaust themselves and believe me, you could easily trip over all the stylistic cliches littering the screen.

Sam Rockwell and Rosemary DeWitt play Eric and Amy Bowen; he just laid off from a good job with John Deere and she a stay at home writer-mom who is on a sure track to being published. With their put-upon teenage daughter Kendra (Saxon Sharbino), son Griffin (Kyle Catlett) and other daughter Madison (Kennedi Clements), the Bowen's pull into their prospective suburban home after having seen several other candidates. Though not an ideal home, Amy persuades Eric the house is the least sucky place they've visited.

After the Bowens purchase the house and begin to settle in, Griffin notices Madison is behaving strangely; talking to the closet doors and more peculiarly, their flat-screen T.V. But Griffin encounters weirdness of his own when a small door in his bedroom wall reveals a cache of creepy-looking clown dolls (always dolls and always clowns! Why couldn't it be a trove of Etch-a-Sketches?). We can intuit from their very presence that the unpleasant little things will sooner or later become agents of supernatural hostility. And they do.

One night, while Eric and Amy dine with friends, the host informs them their home is built on a burial ground, though the bodies were supposedly relocated (note to realtors: I hope your home-selling code of ethics includes disclosures about houses smothering legions of the dead). At that same moment, the Bowen residence becomes an ectoplasmic rave when black sludge oozes from the garage floor, the clown dolls harass Griffin (no, really?) and worse still, the cute-as-a-button Madison is sucked into a void-like dimension that forms in her closet. On arriving home, Eric and Amy find their son dangling from the branches of a tree in their yard. Only minutes prior to their arrival, the tree became an evil operative of the force besieging the house. Eric and Amy, finally convinced their new house is home to malevolent things from beyond, consult a team of paranormal investigators at the local university in hopes of enlisting their help (do colleges and universities still fund such programs? Hmmmm.).

The team leader; Dr. Brooke Powell (Jame Adams) and her two assistants become acquainted with the Bowen home before setting up their elaborate array of ghostbusting equipment. Before long, they too are startled by the ferocity of the spirit's assaults on the Bowen home furnishings. Dr. Powell explains to the Bowens that the otherworldly baddies that have abducted Madison are not ghosts but poltergeists; violent, aggressive entities from beyond the grave. Daunted by the encounter, Dr. Powell decides to contact a man named Carrigan Burke (Jared Harris); the host of a sensationalized T.V. ghost-hunting program who carries a whiff of a charlatan and shameless showman in his show. We learn Burke and Dr. Powell were once married and share a shaky, post-marital relationship.

The manner of Burke's arrival recalls Father Merrin's in The Exorcist. The similarities in appearance are striking and unintentionally comical. Only Burke's silly hat serves as any kind of contrast.

When Burke learns Madison is being held captive in the other world, he explains that the bodies that were supposed to have removed from the property probably never were (Yeah, thanks realtors, for that critical omission!). He also sheds light on why the poltergeists have targeted Madison.

As Burke begins his poltergeist-cleansing ritual, he removes a rope from his bag, which he attaches one end to the wall in Madison's bedroom, while the other end stretches into the ghostly abyss (or her closet, whichever you prefer). The plan is to have Madison use the rope to find her way back to our world but her voice, which they hear emanating from beyond the walls, informs them she can't find her way back. Griffin, feeling responsible for his sister's predicament, plunges himself into the poltergeist world before anyone can stop him. On the other side, we see Griffin wander among the seemingly limitless expanse of the dead; their writhing bodies entwined with one another in a continuous mass. Occasionally, the bodies reach for him.

As Griffin and Madison are eventually ejected from the world of the dead, Burke, Dr. Powell and the Bowens are lulled into a false sense of victory, for the spirits decide they haven't had enough of the family. Burke heroically returns to the house for a final confrontation though he discreetly avoids the opportunity to tape a segment for his show.

Rockwell and DeWitt lend the film some dramatic credibility with their presence but it isn't nearly enough; nor is Jared Harris' turn as Carrigan Burke much help. At moments, the film aspires to near-creepiness but it fails to depart from horror movie conventions: menacing clown dolls, a baseball rolling across the floor by itself, a child talking to something we can't see, etc., are insufferable cliches, even by the low standards of Hollywood horror film-making.

As I watched Griffin wander among the dead, I asked myself, who is charge here? Shouldn't the poltergeist El Presidente be aware of his presence?

I found Rockwell's Eric to be strangely passive. At times he seems almost to regard his daughter's abduction as a joke. Nevertheless, Rockwell brings some whimsy to the film. Jared Harris, who played a paranormal researcher in last year's The Quiet Ones, is well on his way to becoming Vincent Price's successor. We may see him in more horror films in the coming years. I did enjoy his character, as I did Jane Adam's Dr. Powell. We almost never see Adams in films these days, which is too bad; she always brings a touch of the idiosyncratic to her roles.

There are repeated shots of power line towers in the film though I'm not sure what kind of metaphor the images serve. Is director Gil Kenan making some comment about energy consumption? Is he drawing a parallel between the malign spirit world and unsightly power line sprawl? If so, the association is rather weak because no symbolic link is ever established.

I saw the film in a theater that was mostly patron-free (only an elderly man shared the space). One would think that being mostly alone in the dark would make for ideal conditions for watching a horror film but no, Poltergeist made me fidget.

On my way out of the theater, the elderly man asked me what I thought of the movie. I sleepily shrugged my shoulders and asked him for his opinion. He told me he thought it was quite scary. I didn't know how to respond but if he thought this weak effort was frightening, what would he have made of It Follows and The Babadook; horror films that actually were terrifying and/or creepy? Oh well, everyone is entitled to their reaction. Who needs my drowsy indifference?

Tomorrowland

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Brad Bird/Starring: George Clooney, Britt Robertson, Hugh Laurie, Raffey Cassidy, Tim McGraw, Kathryn Hahn and Keegan-Michael Peel

It's hard to say whether Tomorrowland is a Disney flick or director Brad Bird's film because at times it seems the futuristic city seen therein is little more than a re-imagined DisneyWorld. The film also seems like a plug for its theme parks. Even in a scene where a child named Frank Walker (Thomas Robinson) walks into the 1964 World's Fair with his jet-pack prototype, we see Disney's It's A Small World exhibit, replete with the signature song. Talk about a product placement! And try as this talented director (Ratatouille, The Incredibles), might, I couldn't help but feel that the film was nothing more than a story smothered in a corporate infomercial. But we may give ample credit to Bird for pulling a mildly watchable (remember my mantra: mildly watchable can never be equated with good) story from a George Clooney-hosted theme park ride.

But the film takes a shot at a story, as a young woman named Casey Newton (Britt Robertson) tries desperately to prevent a NASA launch pad from being dismantled. Her father, Eddie Newton (Tim McGraw); a NASA engineer, is facing unemployment after his project is complete. During one late night stealth mission on the grounds (is NASA security so lax?), Casey is caught and arrested. Freed on bail, she collects her belongings at the police station, only to find a button with a prominent "T" on the face. Upon touching it, she is instantly transported to a wheat-field where she sees the Oz-like skyline of Tomorrowland; a futuristic city gleaming on the horizon. But Casey also finds that she is transported back to our world when she lets go of the button. The phenomenon naturally startles her and when she tries to demonstrate it for her already angry father on the way home from jail, it fails to work for him.

Finding a large field in which to re-activate her button, she is able to re-visit Tomorrowland and wander around the city. She sees people zipping around in high-tech jet packs, monorails gliding through the air without actual rails and many other wonders which leave the visitor dazzled. Unfortunately she also finds a miniature, digital readout on the button that is rapidly counting down to zero. When it does just that, she is transported back to our world and unable to reactivate the button.

Through her sleuthing, she finds the pin is actually a replica of one sold at the 1964 World's Fair. Her brother locates a store in Houston that carries the pin, which she travels to while her father believes her to be on a camping trip. The place that carries it is a funky, sci-fi collectible establishment run by two offbeat characters played by Kathryn Hahn and the Keegan-Michael Peel. They immediately become suspicious when she shows them her pin and when she tries to leave they lock the door before targeting her with high-tech blasters. As she races through the aisles trying to elude them, a young girl named Athena (Raffey Cassidy) arrives to dispatch the two owners, who we learn are actually robots. Athena warns Casey they need to hurry away before dangerous operatives arrive who intend to kill her. As the two escape, Athena tells Casey the operatives have been sent by a man named Nix who is intent on tracking down the "chosen"; those who have been invited to Tomorrowland via the pin.

Athena suggests Casey visit a previous occupant of Tomorrowland; a man since exiled from the place for inventing something deemed very dangerous though what it is isn't immediately divulged. When Athena drops (almost literally) Casey on the driveway of said inventor, she approaches his unprepossessing abode, only to find he has no intention of allowing her in. When she tricks him and gains entry, she finds his home is a paranoiac's dream; surveillance gew-gaws and computers galore and an advanced security system. The man; Frank Walker (George Clooney), who we saw as little boy in the 1964 World's Fair; learns why Casey has shown up at his doorstep. He also discovers Nix's operatives have discovered his hideout. Frank and Casey manage to escape with the help of his ingenious techno-wizardry but not before Nix's thugs violently renovate his home.

In time, Frank explains that a machine of his design previously used to show people the possibilities of the future has since been re-purposed to show people disasters and war and everything negative. As a consequence, humanity is overcome by its own dark vision of the future, making it necessary to destroy the machine before the world is destroyed by man-made catastrophes. In order to accomplish this, Frank, Casey and Athena must defeat Nix and his minions, which involves finding a way back to Tomorrowland, whose entrance has since been destroyed.

And so the stage is set for a blah blah climax that only Disney could conceive. And in the end, we get an optimistic It's a Small World reprise of sorts with a host of multi-ethnic young folk answering the call to become mankind's visionaries.

Okay, so I get Disney's agenda to leave us with an upbeat, cheery coda but I'm not sure how the army of Tomorrowlanders will deal with the REAL problems gripping our world. If I sound like an incorrigible cynic, that's because I am and no amount of young folk appearing in a wheat field with Tomorrowland in walking distance can convince me that creative imagineering is enough (though I guess it's at least a start). I'm all for celebrating and fostering ingenuity but what the film peddles seems more like Disney's all-you-can-eat lip-service with some platitudes one might buy in Epcot Center.

George Clooney's charisma keeps the film from completely sinking and he probably comes along just at the right time because Britt Robertson, with all her hysteric hamming, is too feeble a presence to carry the story.

The film isn't beaten into submission with CGI the way The Avengers is, which is one positive assessment I can make about the movie.

If the trailer seemed monotonous to you, you'll be pleased to find the movie isn't as bad as that but whether one wants to spend ten bucks to arrive at this revelation is a decision best left to you. That's right, folks; I have seen the future--more specifically Tomorrowland--and it looks like DisneyWorld with glassy towers. All the film needs is a Mickey Mouse with the advanced AI seen in Ex Machina to fully realize its true marketing potential.

Deep Time

Director: Noah Hutton

Noah Hutton, an emerging directorial talent; offers a sequel of sorts to his 2009 documentary Crude Independence with his thoughtful, penetrating follow-up Deep Time. While the former film focused on a town on the threshold of an oil boom, the "sequel" serves as a bookend; measuring the successes and failures of the oil industry's impact on the inhabitants of Sidney, North Dakota. Hutton's film could also serve as a bookend to Jesse Moss' excellent 2014 documentary The Overnighters. While both films share a common subject, they diverge in their storytelling scope. Moss' film gauges the oil boom's impact on a community; Hutton's on a town and reservation. Both are powerful films; shedding light on how promised prosperity and wealth can also bring accelerated change to a community unprepared for its many demands. But Hutton's film shows us the broader, environmental impact of harvesting non-renewable energy; its ultimate cost for nature and human lives.

We hear from Sidney inhabitants and a few politicians, including former Senator Byron Dorgan (D) and Republican governor Jack Dalrymple, whose surprising, convergent, pro-oil views say more about the oil industry's power to forge consensus than bilateral cooperation. More compelling are the views of life-long residents; many who have succumbed to the oil company's presence and influence.

We also hear from others who have managed to survive without oil revenue largesse but still feel its overpowering presence, like a baseball coach whose field lies adjacent to newly-built, over-priced modern apartments (stimulated by oil wealth) and in full view of oil derricks.

Housing becomes an issue for the enormous influx of oil company employees. Though many live in ad hoc trailer units, others are forced to reside in what one resident likens to third-world living conditions. Startling are statistics that compare the skyrocketing rent in Sidney (and elsewhere in North Dakota) to that of Los Angeles and New York. One would be shocked to find the residents (and oil workers) are subject to rental prices twice that of said major cities.

We see that some residents have made out handsomely; leasing their property to oil and gas companies for drilling or housing; the money proving to be too irresistible. While some are ambivalent about their augmented income, others see only a golden lining.

But it isn't only the residents who grapple with the oil/natural gas beasts; a tribe on an area reservation are no less affected and no less susceptible to the seductive allure of Midas-like wealth. One tribe member; a very charismatic and articulate young man, addresses those of his community and representatives from a Texas company hoping to build units on tribal land in a community gathering. While one elder member extols the virtues of leasing tribal land, the young man and the community see its Mephistophelian obverse. One of the highlights of Hutton's film is this young man, whose infinitely wise perspective allows him to weigh the benefits and the bane of oil revenue. We learn his reservation earns $12 million dollars a month from the oil companies in leased property, but we also learn the money is often spent in extravagantly foolish ways. A helicopter and a yacht are two examples of tribal profligacy.

Hutton shows us a shameful episode from North Dakota's past where the U.S. Government--more specifically the The Army Corps of Engineers, circumvented Tribal sovereignty in building the Garrison Dam. Though the Dam occupies both federal and Tribal property, the Reservation has never received compensation for it. We get a clear sense of how the tribe has been bullied by the government in its past and by oil and gas companies in the present.

A scene from Hutton's previous film (reprised in Deep Time) shows us a farmer's heroic resistance to the oil company's presence. We see Hutton return to visit the man, only to find he has relocated to very comfortable digs, free from the noise generated by oil company activity. That his new, upscale home was purchased with oil money is self-evident. This sequence speaks eloquently of the oil industry's powerful reach and its ability to force Faustian deals with those who try to resist.

Near the end of Hutton's film, we take a detour to Alaska, where a NASA/JPL scientist measures the carbon released by melted permafrost. A brilliantly drawn connection between the alarming scientific evidence for global warming and man's unquenchable thirst for oil and natural gas shows us the cost of our dependence on fossil fuels.

Hutton is well on his way to becoming a premier documentarian, but what makes his film rare is its aesthetic power. We see and hear North Dakotans, but we also see the landscape lovingly photographed. We see what people stand to lose if the oil and gas companies pollute green, rolling hills and the endless fields of swaying grass. This film is beautiful to behold, no doubt about it.

We even get a Herzogian detour into a tunnel dug by the Army Corps of Engineers (irony noted), in which we see fossils embedded in the strata. Though we know fossils are the origin of oil, they also represent a past that is beyond our ken. The film is prefaced with a quote by the Scottish geologist James Hutton: (paraphrased) As far as human perspective is concerned, the land has no beginning and no end. Very pertinent words.

It should be noted that the terrific film score we hear was composed by Hutton himself. This guy may not have limits.

Deep Time is an unsettling film that invites deep reflection. Hutton is a young director with a universe in his head and the gifts of a natural filmmaker at his command. That he will dazzle us further is beyond doubt.

Mad Max: Fury Road

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: George Miller/Starring: Tom Hardy, Charlize Theron, Nicholas Hoult and Hughes Keays-Byrne

Mad Max returns though in this incarnation, the august Tom Hardy assumes the character we have all come to know (and love?). Director George Miller, Master of all Automotive Carnage, also returns to the series he has made iconic in the action film genre. Mad Max: Fury Road comes with requisite car chases, guns, post-apocalyptic, ghoulish villains and nary a moment of pause in all its fury. Aside from a few CGI moments, we mostly see intricately orchestrated action scenes, which is quite a relief. Though Miller's film is fun, somehow it lacks The Road Warrior's sense of purpose and urgency. In that film, Max has to deliver petrol across a deserty expanse while fighting off frightening legions of creeps and grotesqueries. The new film features a deserty drive and battles with freaks of every variety but somehow I had to keep reminding myself it was all for some purpose.

The new bad guy, Immortan Joe (Hugh Keays-Byrne), is such an over-the-top character conception he makes Lord Humungous seem timidly imagined. A wild shock of white hair and a mask that gives him the terrifying countenance of a grinning skeleton abets Joe's tyrannical presence; an appearance designed for maximum intimidation.

We see Max trying to outrun Joe's minions on the open road as the film begins. We figure Max is up to his old tricks; surviving by his wits, his wheels and his capacity to return in kind everything Joe's albino-ish skinhead minions can mete out. Max is overtaken and captured, where he is imprisoned in a fortress-like canyon. He manages to escape after some brawling but is eventually subdued. Meanwhile, a tough-looking woman in Joe's service; Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron), is assigned a mission driving a rig for a fuel run. After leaving the canyon fortress, she deviates from her task and the road with her multi-vehicled escort in hot pursuit. Strapped to the grill of one such vehicle in a sacrificial manner is Max, who awaits an almost certain violent death by collision. Only a short time later, Joe mobilizes a fleet of ludicrously and lethally modified vehicles to give chase to the wayward Furiosa.

Why would Furiosa willingly incur Joe's wrath by taking flight? We learn the answer to that question in time but as she races into the desert and into the angriest dust storm you will ever see, Joe's minions do their level best to bring her vehicle to a halt.

In a post-apocalyptic world where gasoline is a priceless commodity, giving chase with a fleet of cars seems to betray an inconsistent and implausible attitude about the cavalier usage of fuel but so it goes.

Furiosa manages to fight off the escort but not before a collision with the car holding Max frees him. Well, almost. Having outlasted the escort--and the asphyxiating dust storm, Furiosa's rig comes to a stop. A skin-head named Nux (Nicholas Hoult), who managed to attach himself to her vehicle before being flung from it, lies unconscious in the sand. Emerging from the rig with Furiosa are several beautiful, vestal virgin-like women. We learn the women, who are wives of sorts to Joe, have escaped with Furiosa's help and are to be taken to the Green Place; an Edenic land of bounty that may or may not exist. But Max holds Furiosa and the women at gunpoint, demanding they remove the metallic mask over his mouth. A brawl breaks out between Max and the women while Nux, waking from sand, joins the fray. The fight is wonderfully choreographed and as elaborate as any of the car chase sequences.

After the hostilities, Max and Furiosa arrive at an uneasy detente. Seeing Joe's forces racing furiously toward them in the distance, they drive on.

As Joe's gang begins to gain on Furiosa's rig, other marauding clans join the chase. A detour into a dangerous canyon, where yet another clan on motorcycles menace Max and Furiosa, allows them means to escape when rocky rubble bars their pursuer's path.

In time, Furiosa, Max, and their new ally Nux decide-with bewildering reasoning--to attack Joe's fortress, which means battling he and his newly augmented force en route. This plot development seems hair-brained and hard to swallow but I suppose Miller needed some sort of narrative device to force a showdown. At this point in the film, I felt its already flimsy logic had completely come undone but if you can accept a story where gasoline and bullets seem to be in infinite abundance despite knowledge to the contrary, I suppose one can accept anything.

I don't know that Miller expects us to derive much meaning from the nightmarish world we see onscreen but not having a point is maybe the point of the Mad Max films. Who is Max now? Do we care? Is he merely a bad-ass who will never find peace in a world where Darwinian socialism has run amok?

I don't think Miller does much with Max's character but Furiosa seems more interesting. We get a little back-story on her and we learn that she, like Max and many others, has endured hardship and loss in her life. The fact that her missing lower arm doesn't squelch her gritty toughness says much about her. Furiosa is not a woman who needs Max or anyone else. It's also interesting to find she knows her rig inside and out and is ingenious enough to devise an intricate series of kill switches to thwart would-be car-jackers. I really liked Charlize Theron in her role as Furiosa. She is unafraid to mute her good looks to play the ragged and dirty hellioness-of-the road but still manages to bring a fun, feminized element to the story.

Tom Hardy, with his rugged features and action film credentials, seems like a logical choice to play Max. Max's laconic nature seems well-suited for the taciturn actor. Whether he can make Max his own is contingent on Miller's plans for furthering the series.

The film itself felt at times like a self-parody and self-satire with its hyperbolic mayhem and cartoonishly malevolent villains. I still had fun watching it but wasn't blown away as I was with The Road Warrior, which I feel is still the best of the series. The film didn't bring a definitively end to the saga so it seems open-ended. Will Max ever find peace? Will he find sanctuary from the reigning chaos of his world? I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Miller's film is well made but it didn't quicken my pulse. The choreographed action scenes are still impressive but Mad Max: Fury Road is more a technical achievement than an electrifying action movie. I've seen all the ghouls before and the car chases to nowhere but somehow nothing managed to stick. Miller can be commended for his old school approach to action movie-making but maybe Max's retirement is nigh.

Far From the Madding Crowd

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Thomas Vinterberg/Starring: Carey Mulligan, Matthias Schoenaerts, Michael Sheen, Tom Sturridge and Juno Temple

With costume dramas, one never knows what one will get. Will the film be a dry, airless Merchant/Ivory production or will it be a visually sumptuous delight, like Ang Lee's Sense and Sensibility? It's nearly impossible to predict. But with a talented director like Thomas Vinterberg (Celebration, The Hunt) behind the camera, one can be sure the adaptation will be anything but two hours of stilted dialogue and ladies with bonnets resting daintily on their silky curls.

Given the fact the film is an interpretation of Thomas Hardy's classic novel, we have a good idea of what we will see. But as it's heroine, Bathsheba Everdene (an excellent Carey Mulligan) is keen to express in the film; "It is my intention to astonish you all." One could just as easily believe the mission statement belongs to Vinterberg. In sharing his heroine's resolution; his Far From the Madding Crowd achieves nothing less. Though other versions of Hardy's novel have found their way to the screen, Vinterberg's makes its own statement, visually and dramatically.

Set in rural England in the 1870s', the story's main persona--Bathsheba, inherits a manor; replete with a considerable staff. Bathsheba is hardly a typical landowner for the times, as we see when she attends an auction to sell the bounty of her farm. The exclusively male buyers and sellers look askance at Bathsheba; almost insulted by a woman's presence. But Bathsheba is no shrinking flower nor anyone's patsy; she proves to be a shrewd business person, as one buyer discovers.

We also meet Gabriel Oak (the limitless Matthias Schoenaerts), a hard-working farmer whose property abuts Bathsheba's. Gabriel meets his comely neighbor one day while tending to his vast flock of sheep and is instantly smitten. He wastes little time proposing marriage to her in his forthright manner, which startles Bathsheba. Though she isn't immune to Gabriel's rugged handsomeness, she is quick to assert her staunch independence which comes with an aversion to marriage. In a coquettish moment, she tells Gabriel that he lacks the means to tame her. Dejected, Gabriel walks away.

Not soon after, Gabriel experiences a devastating loss when one of his dogs drives his entire flock off a cliff before he can intervene. An image of golden, morning sunlight bathing a beach littered with sheep carcasses is a fascinating juxtaposition of beauty and grisly death.

Unable to recover financially from his loss, Gabriel is forced to sell his property, leaving him with little choice but to earn a wage on another farm. That he finds himself a shepherd on Bathsheba's estate is one of the story's bitter ironies.

But Gabriel isn't the only landowner who succumbs to Bathsheba's charms, for a William Boldwood (Michael Sheen, terrific as always), whose sprawling estate betrays considerable bounty, also wastes little time proposing marriage. Like Gabriel, William's offer of comfort and prosperity is countered by Bathsheba's articulated disdain for marriage.

Though Bathsheba seems steadfast in her determination to be unwed, a young, handsome soldier named Francis Troy (Tom Sturridge) changes her mind. Startling Bathsheba one night in the forest, he immediately makes his attraction known, causing her to shrink from his advances. But in the days ahead, his good looks and seductive power overcome her, which make marriage inevitable. Gabriel, ever the friend, warns her about Francis; knowing something of his past. Thoroughly charmed by the young soldier, Bathsheba dismisses his reservations.

Earlier in the story, we watched as Francis' wedding to a young beauty named Fanny Robin (Juno Temple) was aborted when the bride inadvertently arrived at the wrong church. Believing himself to be rejected, Francis leaves the church in humiliation and heartbreak. Knowing this, it is easy to regard Bathsheba's marriage to Francis with trepidation.

Gabriel's warning proves to be prophetic, for Francis becomes the most undesirable husband. Showing little but contempt for farm-life and frittering Bathsheba's income on gambling, Francis' life becomes one of dissipation and idleness. But a chance meeting in town with his erstwhile fiance, Fanny Robbin, reawakens his passion for the young woman. Fanny tells Francis the baby she carries is his, which spurs him to action. He promises to help rescue her from the loathsome mendicant's life in which she finds herself. In promising Fanny money to relieve her direly stressed condition, Francis runs afoul of Bathsheba, who questions his need for more money.

As Bathsheba's marriage deteriorates, Francis disappears, leaving everyone to think the worst. Believing Bathsheba to be eligible, Boldwood throws an elaborate party to renew his courtship but his hopes are dashed when Bathsheba reiterates her desire not to marry him. Outside the party, Bathsheba discovers a figure emerging from the darkness, which we see is Francis. Unchastened by his disappearance, his aggressive demands of Bathsheba lead to a violent confrontation that prompts a despondent Boldwood to take desperate action, with catastrophic consequences.

I fell into Vinterberg's story and kept falling. He did astonish and in many ways. Beautiful camera work, performances from several very fine actors and a masterful use of color made Vinterberg's film a fully imagined and aesthetically realized work.

I found Mulligan to be a superb Bathsheba. Mulligan has the kind of face that would drown in innocence if not for fiercely intelligent eyes to counter the onslaught. Bathsheba is at once aware of herself and her unique position of privilege in a male-dominated society but is also naive when it comes to matters of the heart, as her terrible relationship with Francis attests. Mulligan captures this contradiction beautifully.

Schoenaerts is quickly becoming one of cinema's premier actors. In the past few years, I've seen him in wildly divergent roles: as a pugilist in Rust and Bone, as the heavy in last year's The Drop and now as the Job-like Gabriel Oak. What is particularly astonishing about Schoenaerts is his ability to affect accents without a trace of his native Belgian in his voice.

Does Bathsheba maintain her independence after battling for its preservation for so long? Does Hardy and hence, Vinterberg, fail her by having her become love's prey? Does she betray her ideals? Though the story finds a happy ending, I couldn't help but think so, as I'm sure other movie-goers will as well.

I doubt Far From the Madding Crowd will make much of a splash, but I found it absorbing and nicely done. I was glad to be spared the Masterpiece Theater treatment; its cinematic value was very conspicuous. See it while you can in a theater before the T.V. screen denigrates everything that gives it distinction.

Welcome to Me

**Spoiler Alert**

Director Shira Piven/Starring: Kristen Wiig, Wes Bentley, Joan Cusack, Jennifer Jason Leigh, James Marsden, Tim Robbins, Linda Cardellini and Thomas Mann

Shira Piven's Welcome to Me is one of those films that is so self-consciously weird that its weirdness becomes a tiresome contrivance. It goes well out of its way to be strange but at times it can elicit a chuckle when it isn't trying too hard to be bizarre. Director Shira Piven's film makes a reasonably good entrance, only to stumble then drag itself to a whimsical end.

Kristen Wiig plays Alice Klieg, a manic-depressive living in the fictional southern Californian town of Palm Desert. She spends part of her days in therapy, where Dr. Daryl Moffet (Tim Robbins) administers psychiatric guidance and prescriptions. The other part are spent in front of the T.V., idolizing Oprah Winfrey; lip-syncing her on-screen patter and gleaning morsels of Oprah-wisdom dispensed on air.

Among Alice's possessions are small stacks of losing lottery tickets. In an early scene, Alice tunes in to a televised lottery drawing. As the numbers are called, we see that Alice has won the $86 million (actually a lesser amount for a lump sum) jackpot. Ecstatic and dumbfounded, she can barely breath the words "I'm a winner" into the phone to claim the prize. True to her eccentric nature, she makes a hotel casino her second home then gathers her family and friends for a celebratory meal.

Enthralled with Oprah and her inspirational words, Alice and her friend Gina (Linda Cardellini), visit a live taping of an infomercial at a local T.V. station. During the show, when the host Gabe Ruskin (Wes Bentley) asks for a volunteer to demonstrate a product's effectiveness, Alice is only too eager to walk on stage. The show producer and staff in the booth express dismay when the erratic Alice, commandeers the show with her off-the-wall volatility.

Afterwards, the two brothers who control the station's content; Gabe and Rich Ruskin (James Marsden) invite Alice into their conference room to meet with the production staff. In the course of discussion, Alice lets it be known she wants her own show and when asked what it would be about, she says, "me." Of course the staff, including producer Dawn Hurley (Joan Cusack) and Deb Moseley (Jennifer Jason Leigh) voice their objections, only to be silenced by Alice's $15 million dollar check, which covers the projected production cost of her show.

I don't know about other film-goers, but I always find it excruciating to watch a film about a lottery winner who is hell-bent on squandering his/her fortune on frivolous nonsense. At this point in the film, the total and imminent exhaustion of the fortune seems like a fait accompli.

The show, with its zeitgeist-appropriate title Welcome to Me is naturally a bizarre spectacle that could have been the brainchild of David Lynch and Luis Bunuel.

The show begins with Alice arriving on a swan followed by re-enactments of slights suffered by Alice during her life, which share air-time with cooking segments featuring outlandish and unpalatable culinary creations, like a frosting-topped meatloaf. The staff, looking on in the booth, watch incredulously. The show manages to draw viewers and even a few admirers.

Gabe begins to have qualms about his brother's willingness to exploit Alice. Before long, Gabe and Alice begin a romance, which catches a snag during one of her rage-filled, flights of mental instability. Her erratic behavior and emotional vulnerability begin to impair her judgement. Alice has a fling with a fawning fan named Rainer Ybarra (Thomas Mann) which doesn't escape Gabe's notice.

As the show continues on its weird course and Alice's un-medicated self holds the production staff captive, her self-involved antics begin to wear on her loved ones, particularly her best friend Gina.

I suppose Piven's film is commentary on the narcissism gripping the country and it makes a convincing case of its pandemic reach. Approaching the topic with absurdist humor is a good way to go but the film asphyxiates in its weirdness. Don't get me wrong; I like weird but when it's a film's selling point rather than an element of its storytelling, it becomes a tiresome affectation, as it is here. As the story progresses, Alice's condition becomes less funny and more tedious.

A film like Welcome to Me could only end happily, which it does. Alice comes to acknowledge her ego-centrism and makes an extraordinarily selfless gesture to her best friend Gina.

The supporting cast was quite terrific when given their time though most are consigned to straight-men roles. When you have actors like Robbins and Cusack; who wield considerable comedic ability, exiled to the margins, it becomes a liability.

As previously stated, the film generates a modicum of laughs but I mostly found the movie to be a one-note joke. If manic-depressive narcissists are your company of choice, then Piven's film is for you. I suppose there is a better comedy out there dealing with this small cross-section of American society but that's another film. At least this one makes a case for not skipping one's meds.

The D Train

**Spoiler Alert**

Directors: Andrew Mogel, Jarrad Paul/Starring: Jack Black, James Marsden, Kathryn Hahn, Jeffrey Tambor and Mike White

Many people carry some residual high school anxieties in their psyche; the fear of alienation, being hopelessly uncool and probably worst of all, the sentence of social pariahdom. And for many, the high school experience stigmatizes one almost permanently. Though most people I know (including myself) would rather be water-boarded than attend any school reunion, others find the idea appealing.

Dan Landsman (Jack Black), the self-appointed chairman of his high school reunion committee, pursues the task of organizing his class reunion with passionate earnestness. Unfortunately, his fellow committee members (who are also former classmates), treat him with the same low regard he probably endured in high school. When the film begins, we see him setting up an ad hoc committee call center with dedicated meticulousness; setting out donuts and setting up phones for his peers. When he mentions going out for a beer with the committee after an evening of cold calling classmates, the others casually decline his offer. But on his way home, he sees the committee members enter a bar together.

At home, we see Dan enjoy a more favorable estimation from his wife Stacey (an excellent Kathryn Hahn) and his son Zach (Russell Posner).

One evening, while watching T.V., Dan sees an ad for Banana Boat tanning lotion. The spot features a beef-cakey life-guard monitoring a busy beach. Dan realizes the lifeguard is none other than his former classmate Oliver Lawless (a very excellent James Marsden). Excited, Dan annoys Stacey by rousing her from her sleep to show her the ad, only to be scolded harshly.

Seeing Oliver inspires a plan in which Dan will fly to L.A. to convince the actor to attend the reunion. Imagining himself walking into the reunion with a very hip-looking Oliver; gaining social prestige and maybe respect from his classmates only strengthens his resolve. Of course the plan entails some measure of prevarication, as Dan explains to Stacey that his week-long mission to L.A. is a business while he proposes the trip to his boss Bill (the always amusing Jeffrey Tambor) as a bold initiative to lure a new client for the consulting business. The plan backfires when Bill insists he join Dan on the trip, for which no amount of dissuasion from the latter will discourage the former. The fact that Dan would lie to both his boss and his wife then create a situation in L.A. that demands he fake a meeting with a fictitious client is plausible if Dan's reunion anxieties are severe, which they are. Does Dan seem like the type of person who would cast discretion and common sense to the wind in a reckless pursuit of something so seemingly trivial? Not really, but we read of stranger acts undertaken by people who are otherwise levelheaded and risk-averse.

The obsession to sell the reunion idea to Oliver has unfortunate consequences at home; Dan begins to ignore Zach and his girl troubles; a neglected issue which has long-reaching ramifications.

Directors Mogel and Paul, who also co-penned the script, set up a juicy, tension-filled scenario (if not entirely believable) where Dan's job, marriage, father/son relations and his shaky standing with the reunion committee are all highly jeopardized.

In L.A., Dan meets Oliver for drinks and clubbing. Sporting trendy facial hair to offset his inveterate un-coolness, Dan also affects cool dude patter in his attempt to cajole Oliver into attending the reunion. While Bill spends time in his hotel room, preparing for a phantom meeting, Dan and Oliver party ferociously, making the club rounds, drinking heavily and partaking of a powdery substance in the process. Unfortunately for Dan, Oliver casually dismisses the reunion idea.

Over a few days course, we begin to see how Dan's lofty estimation of Oliver grows out of proportion. In an attempt to impress Dan and create the illusion of celebrity, Oliver pretends to know Dermott Mulroney (yes, the real Dermott Mulroney), who they spot sitting in a booth; his entourage very present. Mulroney is naturally puzzled after Oliver initiates conversation. The ruse works. Oliver returns to an admiring Dan, who sees him as someone herculean.

At this point in the film, the story takes a risk I found to be pretty mind-blowing for multiplex fare. In the afterglow of the evening, Dan finds himself in Oliver's shabby apartment. As the two trade bro-talk, they find themselves standing closer and closer until the two spontaneously embrace then engage in a passionate kiss. Where it leads we can guess as the two men wake then next morning; side by side. Though Oliver is unphased by the encounter, the act leaves Dan shaken and confused.

On the Bill front, Oliver pretends to be the client the two men are supposed to meet. Just when Oliver pretends to kill a deal that might free Dan from a potential disaster, the actor gets caught up in the emotional excitement of the deal. In a moment of detrimental spontaneity, he agrees to Bill's deal.

Returning home, Dan faces personal and professional ruin as his ruse is tenuously maintained while the emotional aftershocks of sex begins to wildly affect his behavior. Dan tries to discourage Oliver from attending the reunion for fear of their secret becoming public consumption. To his dismay, he discovers his erstwhile lover is dead set on attending.

In the second half of the film, we see Dan trying to put his family back together, dealing with possible job loss while a major confrontation at the reunion turns the event on its head.

I was particularly taken with the performances, especially James Marsden's and Jack Black's. Marsden hasn't really had the opportunity to shine in any film but he does so here. Jack Black has shown he has the acting chops to take on dramatic roles; an opportunity he doesn't waste as the socially vilified Dan Landsman.

Though we live in slightly enlightened times, the sex scene remains a surprise. The filmmakers don't treat the act as something freakish but as something two non-gay men might enjoy given the circumstances. And the secret they share doesn't crowd out the rest of the story, which deals with other issues, most notably Dan's search for social redemption and its lack of proportion in meaning to the idea of marriage and family.

I was a little disappointed to find the film didn't arrive at any great truth. Dan learns he must appreciate what he has, namely his wife and son but is it that all? Given what's transpired, it's hard to imagine someone would glean such prosaic wisdom from something out of the ordinary. How does the fling and the cataclysmic reunion affect him? Does the film give us a convincing clue?

I did find the final scene between Dan and Oliver refreshingly honest. What is obvious to everyone and the audience is articulated by Oliver as he disabuses Dan of his greatest illusions; his lack of celebrity status and his faked encounter with Dermott Mulroney.

I was taken in by the story; it offered something unusual and was a radical departure from traditional Hollywood fare. I didn't find the film to be hilarious but was amusing at times and if it doesn't posit anything profound, it also refuses to be business as usual. It takes the familiar suburban milieu with its stock inhabitants then wrenches it; defying the ordinary.

The D-Train is a Spring surprise. But my prognosis for the film is total and complete burial. In this cinema season where blockbusters crowd out anything with a modest budget and little marketing muscle, a film like Mogel and Paul's will lose out to costumed super things whose success is all but forcibly assured. Theirs isn't a great film but for first-time directors, it is a helluva start. I say see it before theater managers hurry the film canisters on UPS trucks and ship them back to the studio. I guess I should give the studio itself credit for letting it exist, albeit briefly, in cineplex venues. Will this happen again? Who knows? But sometimes anomalies morph into something commonplace. We'll wait and see.

In the Name of My Daughter (L'homme qu'on aimait trop)

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Andre Techine/Starring: Catherine Deneuve, Guillaume Canet and Adele Haenel

In the Name of My Daughter isn't exactly a murder mystery nor is it what we might call a crime film here in America. What it is is Andre Techine's version of a crime drama, though that only becomes apparent a little more than half-way through its 116 minutes. Rather than sensationalizing the story, Techine narrows his narrative focus to a psychological triangle, while also leaving us to guess the fate of a woman whose disappearance all but incriminates her lover.

Though based on a true story, Techine is unable harness its dark, real-world, dramatic potential and what's left is nothing more than a news story with psychological embellishment.

Adapted from a book by Jean-Charles Le Roux, In the Name of My Daughter tells the story of Renee Le Roux (Catherine Deneuve); vice-president of a Cote d'azur casino in the 1970s'. Trying to save what is a failing establishment, she promotes her cunning and sometimes ruthless lawyer, Maurice Agnelet (Guillaume Canet) to that of a consultant. Maurice immediately flexes his Machiavellian muscle by helping Renee remove a key figure in the casino management; an incompetent who permits a gang of underworld figures to cheat the casino out of a few million dollars.

As Renee jockeys for the casino presidency, her daughter Agnes shows up to demand her inheritance from her father's will; which will enable her to open her own store. Renee resists her daughter's pleas but Agnes is able to secure alternate funding.

Agnes and Maurice make contact one day during her swimming constitutional (her frequent water-excursions play a somewhat significant role in the film). Through mildly flirtatious conversation, Maurice initiates his slow seduction though Agnes proves to be a difficult catch. It is interesting to note that Maurice's last name means "little lamb" while Agnes is derived from the Latin word for lamb. Agnes is quick to point out the incompatibility of his last name and his ambitious nature. The observation proves to be truer than she can imagine.

Soon Maurice's ambitions get the best of him when Renee refuses to promote him to a more influential position in the casino. Angry and vindictive, he quits the casino to plot her downfall with the help of one of her rivals, Fratoni (Jean Corso). Fratoni's alleged ties to the underworld and his aggressive modus operandi of buying failing casinos, liquidating them then re-selling the property to developers makes him a formidable opponent. But Renee discovers that Fratoni and Maurice are hardly her only her only concerns. Agnes, weary of begging her mother for her share of the inheritance, accepts a deal, via Maurice's intercession, in which she will accept a payment equivalent to the amount of her inheritance from Fratoni in exchange for casting a vote against her mother's presidential bid at the next casino board meeting.

Of course Renee sees her daughter's deal-with-the-devil as a betrayal (it is), for which Agnes feels more than a just a little tortured ambivalence.

As Agnes and Maurice become lovers, he makes it clear to her that his interest in women doesn't extend beyond that of a mistress; a caveat she ignores to her own peril.

Ever mysterious and maybe dangerous, we are never sure of Maurice's motives and how far he'll go to get what he wants or to shed women who demand too much of his love and time. Guillaume Canet plays Maurice, not with hissing malevolence, but as a young opportunist out to get his slice of the pie. We feel and probably know Agnes will somehow be on the losing end of Maurice's machinations but it takes awhile for us to see who and what he may be. Techine's film is rather deliberate in its desire to get anywhere.

One scene that forebodes ill for Agnes is the scene in the bank where she and Maurice divide her payment from Fratoni. Maurice makes an arrangement whereby he can access her share without her consent (though she also has access to his, theoretically). Watching Maurice and Agnes in their respective, private safe-deposit box rooms may leave one feeling rather uneasy; knowing he probably has diabolical designs on her share.

In time, Fratoni gains control of the casino, which also means its swift demise; leaving Renee high and dry and her relationship with Agnes all but ruined. But Renee is hardly Maurice's only victim, for Agnes discovers falling for him means love unrequited and callous disregard.

Agnes' subsequent disappearance makes Maurice a prime suspect but as he tells a courtroom, no body means no crime. Without evidence to convict him, he flees France for Panama, where he begins a new life.

The story picks up decades later, where a gray-haired Renee petitions the courts to re-open the case against Maurice, which necessitates him being recalled from Panama. Much older and white-haired, he sits in the courtroom as the case commences.

Subtitles greet the eye before the credits, which tell of the trial's outcome and Maurice's fate. Is Maurice guilty? Techine is less interested in the answer than showing us the Maurice/Renee/Agnes triangle's corrosivity.

I admire Techine for his restrained approach in telling this story but what it needs is some venom; some Diabolique nastiness rather than tasteful even-handedness.

I don't mind that Techine didn't turn Maurice into Hannibal Lecter, but he seemed to depict him as a dreary cipher. Sure, he has some moments where his creepy manipulations make themselves known, but it wasn't enough. I did like the film's moral relativism; no one seems very virtuous, even the story's ultimate victim: Agnes.

I like Techine's films but don't know that I've ever loved them. I also don't know that I've ever felt compelled to re-visit the ones I have enjoyed but maybe a retrospective of his work would change my mind. In the Name of My Daughter is merely okay. For a French filmmaker, that word might seem unforgivably obscene but it applies. The word is handy when a film-goer feels passionately indifferent about a movie. To assign it a loftier honorific would be criminal.

The Salt of the Earth

Directors: Wim Wenders and Juliano Ribeiro Salgado/With: Sebastiao Salgado

Sebastiao Salgado; a photographer of international renown, is the subject of Wim Wenders/Juliano Ribeiro Salgado's documentary The Salt of the Earth. The film is not only a biopic but a celebration of Salgado's extraordinary work, which at times is poetic and political but also otherworldly and searing. His photography documents humanity's suffering, savagery and brutality but he also captures nature's inherent beauty and humanity in its seemingly endless diversity. In chronicling Salgado's career, Wenders and Salgado's son Juliano tell a story of an artist with decidedly humanistic concerns.

Conversations with Salgado, personal recollections and images of his work mingle to form the film's principle content though Wenders and Juliano document beauty of their own as they follow the photographer to remote locations, often filming Salgado against a breathtaking expanse.

The film opens with Salgado's familiar pictorial of Brazilian gold miners swarming in a vast pit, where arms coated with dirt dig and bare backs haul sacks of earth. We hear Salgado provide narration as he explains how the work was often treacherous; miners hoisting sacks of dirt up ladders where one slip might have not only injured the fallen but also those beneath. Salgado's pictures show the inhumanity and the madness in man's unquenchable thirst for gold. We also see a surrealistically sinister, Bosch-like hell.

The film segues into Salgado's early life in a small Brazilian village. The dictatorship that came to power in 1960s' Brazil formed the political climate from which Salgado escaped when he left his village for Paris to study economics. There he meets his future wife Lelia and it is there that his passion for photography emerges serendipitously. Determined to pursue some kind of vocation behind the camera, he invests in the necessary equipment before taking on mercenary work as a wedding photographer. It isn't long before his artistic ambitions outgrow his modest wage-earning.

Salgado's first project takes him back to South America for a photographic essay on laborers and the economically marginalized. The results are startling. Not only do we see the faces of those eking out a hardscrabble life but the stark environments they inhabit.

Ethnographic observation becomes a characteristic of his work as Salgado is welcomed into a Mexican village where music plays a significant role in the community. Interactive contact becomes part of his photographic wanderings.

We get a sense of Lelia's unwavering devotion and support, as Sebastiao's frequent absences become a minor problem for his family. Lelia and their infant son manage without him.

Wenders and Juliano's film vacillates between his photographic past and the present, as they follow Sebastiao to places far and remote, such as a deserted island near the Arctic circle. Hoping to photograph the island walruses, we see Sebastiao, Wenders and Juliano negotiate the cold, desolate landscape, only to be frustrated by a polar bear has frightened his subjects away.

We also see Salgado's work from his foray into Ethiopia in the 1980s' where he encountered the very grim famine that claimed many lives and ravaged the population. Among his unflinching representations are bodies emaciated by hunger and the corpses of those who lost the struggle. They are powerful images; ones that may cause one to turn one's head or shrink from their brutal truth. Salgado ventures into Mali, where he finds more of the same suffering; famine from severe drought.

Wenders and Juliano's cameras are often turned on framed photographs as Salgado discusses his work. As we gaze upon framed photos, Salgado's reflection sometimes appears in the glass; a fascinating visual whereby the artist's face is superimposed on his work.

The film continues with Salgado's photo essay of the Kuwait oil fields following the Persian Gulf War in the early 1990s'. The burning oil wells left behind by Saddam Hussein's army created a hellish landscape where black clouds billowing angrily from derricks created a near-endless night. The oleaginous muck drenching the oil workers who feverishly battled the blazes becomes another powerful image in Salgado's lens as are the eery, frightening shots of the oil-drenched landscape.

Yet another photographic endeavor is his essay on those displaced by wars in Bosnia and Rwanda, which are no less powerful. It is sobering to hear Salgado speak pessimistically of humanity after completing his project. We can sympathize; we are able to see some of what caught his eye and it isn't pretty. As a viewer, one can appreciate his courage and willingness to document subject matter the world would rather turn away from.

The film concludes with Salgado's environmental work; behind the camera and beyond it. We see some images from nature that are quite lovely, as is his study of an Amazonian tribe. In a film bursting with memorable images, one of the most is of Salgado's home village. When he returns to find the once verdant hills barren and smothered in desert, he becomes determined to re-forest the landscape. To see dense forest replace dust and sand imparts a sense of hope to the audience, who might be nearly overcome with pessimism after seeing so much imagery steeped in war, death and starvation. His quest for reclamation becomes a cogent statement about proactivity but it also serves as an affective coda to an amazing film.

Though Juliano shares directorial credit, The Salt of the Earth could have only been made by a director with Wenders' visual sense. Wenders' Paris, Texas and Wings of Desire are themselves rich in arresting, otherworldly images, which makes him an obvious choice to co-direct a documentary on an exceptional photographer.

Wenders and Juliano let Sebastiao speak for his work, a sound and preferable alternative to talking head testimonials that might clutter a lesser filmmaker's work.

Wenders/Juliano leave us with something memorable; a film that tests our capacity to look upon the world's less-appealing truths and reflect on its heartbreaking beauty. We find in Sebastiao Salgado an artist and a humanitarian. He shows us human-conceived horrors without stifling his message with a scold's finger-wagging. He simply asks us to look and consider how our species permits more suffering and carnage than we care to acknowledge. The Salt of the Earth is a terrific film about an everyman with an extraordinary, compassionate eye.

Avengers: Age of Ultron

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Joss Whedon/Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Mark Ruffalo, Chris Evans, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner, Chris Hemsworth, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Elizabeth Olsen, Don Cheadle, Samuel L. Jackson, James Spader (Voice), Paul Bettany, Anthony Mackie, Cobie Smulders and Peggy Carter

Crash! Bang! Smash! Crack! Pow!--have I overlooked any other sound effect? With Avengers: The Age of Ultron, you get that and more. What carnage! What destruction! And unbelievable mayhem! And oh, yeah; the world somehow emerges intact though the real Marvel is how the world's greatest crime fighters manage to leave the rest of the planet rubble-free.

Joss Whedon is back with a super-hero assemblage whose popularity may soon eclipse the X-Men's. Though I've come to expect over-the-top, CGI wreckage and ear-punishing noise in the Summer blockbuster season, I find Whedon's variety to be quite fun. Of course it helps to have the Ministry of Mayhem: Thor (Chris Hemsworth), Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey Jr.), Steve Rogers/Captain America (Chris Evans), Dr. Bruce Banner/Hulk (Mark Ruffalo), Clint Barton/Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) and Nastasha Romanoff/Black Widow (the sensuous Scarlett Johansson) dispensing it in highly entertaining ways. But the group's peacetime bonding proves to be as entertaining as their violent outings.

It also helps that the cast has presence; a very necessary and indispensable super-hero quality, which helps sell the story and keep our eyes glued to the screen.

The film also has its share of funny banter, which ensures the movie doesn't stray too close to the too-serious, too-earnest precipice.

The new movie doesn't waste a breath plunging the audience into action as the Avengers find themselves assaulting a fortress where the baddie Strucker (Thomas Kretschmann) hides out with two of his genetically-engineered creations; the super-powered twins Scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximoff (Elizabeth Olsen) and Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff (Aaron Taylor-Johnson). Strucker is in possession of Loki's staff; a powerful and dangerous item Thor intends to return to Asgard; home of the Norse gods. Of course we get to see the Avengers wield their distinctive powers as they pummel and brush aside soldiers en route to the fortress. And as they enter the compound, we also see what the evil twins Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver can do. Scarlet Witch's ability to use people's greatest fears against them and Quicksilver's light-speed kineticism present considerable problems for the Avengers but though they present a formidable defense, the Avengers manage to retrieve the staff and escape to their Tony Stark-designed headquarters in New York City.

The Avengers previous battle with aliens (see the first film) inspires Tony Stark to employ the staff's dark power--very ill-advised--to impart artificial intelligence to a robotic unit he intends to use to defend Earth from another threat of an alien invasion. Stark shares his idea only with Dr. Banner; thus circumventing team oversight. Before he can complete a prototype for his new project, the unit assumes control of his own creation and in doing so, a malevolent entity is formed: Ultron. Before it can be stopped, it destroys Stark's hyper-advanced cyber-assistant Jarvis and escapes. When the Avengers team learn Stark is behind its creation, they are more than a little furious. Stark's brainchild, though altruistically conceived, unleashes yet another danger they must overcome.

Whedon's film keeps a feverish pace; we barely have enough time to process expository information before more comes our way. Though its hyper-active, the film's break-neck speed manages to be bracing.

The Avengers find themselves racing around the globe to thwart Ultron's quest to upgrade himself and achieve invincibility; a goal partly realized when he seizes a supply of Vibranium; the strongest metal known to man (and the key material in Captain America's shield); whose indestructible quality he manages to harness for his robotic frame. Ultron, with the help of Scarlett Witch and Quicksilver (the twins' beef with the Avengers has its origins in the destruction of their village; an unexploded missile bearing Stark Industries name killed their family), manage to fight off the Avengers and in the process, the Scarlett Witch is able to play on their respective fears. Another indignity is visited on the team when Ultron steals Loki's staff.

As the Avengers lick their wounds, they find themselves hiding out in Hawkeye's secluded, country home (after Ultron's violent renovation of the Avengers Mansion) to rest and plan their next attack.

Here the film takes a more tender turn (believe it or not) as we--and the Avengers--learn of Hawkeyes' family and his expectant wife. A taste of Hawkeye's domestic bliss makes some of the other members wonder if they'll ever enjoy the same arrangement. But inter-member romance is also in the air, as Black Widow and Dr. Banner/Hulk show signs of mutual attraction though he is quick to warn her that his condition makes a relationship impossible.

Before the team (and the audience) is allowed further inertia, the heroes are off again, this time to South Korea, where they learn Ultron is intent on creating a new version of himself. The would-be Ultron; a synthetic/organic hybrid, will only render him more dangerous and deadly. As Ultron loads his consciousness into his new self, the Scarlet Witch penetrates its mind and discovers what Ultron has planned for the human race: complete and utter destruction. Horrified, the twins turn against him while the Avengers arrive to steal the new entity before Ultron can complete the transfer.

After more car-crashes and building demolition, the Avengers manage to escape with Ultron's creation and in doing so, they find themselves with a new ally and superhero.

The film's final battle pits the Avengers, the Maximoff twins and the new super-hero against Ultron and his robotic minions, as he sets his apocalyptic plan into action.

There is much to like about Whedon's film. I liked the sequence where the Hulk runs amok; an issue Stark must address with his super version of Iron Man. I also liked the movie's human dimension; family, romance, etc, which the film sorely needs.

What meaning we can glean from the Summer's first blockbuster may lie in its cynical view of technology. The idea of its application causing as much harm as good is eloquently expressed as we see Ultron vent his wrath on the planet. It is also very interesting to see Tony Stark/Iron Man become a villain in his own right as he conceals his Ultron project from the Avengers before nearly becoming an agent in mankind's destruction. Very nice twist.

I do have one question for Whedon: how can so much destruction not affect city and town infrastructures and do the Avengers foot the bill for it all? Just wondering.

Whedon's film is just the beginning of movie Summer's CGI extravaganzas and though we may be sick to death of it all come August, at least here it serves a story and doesn't entirely overwhelm the human element. The final battle left me a little weary of the chaos; just when I thought all of Ultron's robots had been vanquished, more appeared to be torn apart. It was an unnecessary prolongation but the producers (All thirteen of them! Yes, they outnumber the Avengers) may have felt another pause in the action may have caused a riot in the theater.

My summation: The Avengers: Age of Ultron is great fun. And if you're wondering (anyone who has seen the series won't) whether the film sets up the next iteration, have no fear. Can this franchise stand five films? If they can entertain like Whedon's latest, why not?

Will Thor, Iron Man, the Hulk and Hawkeye return? We'll find out in two years time. See you there.

Note to viewers: you may not want to wait for the end credits to pass as has become the custom with Marvel adaptations; the next antagonist makes an appearance after the main action.