Pawn Sacrifice

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Edward Zwick/Starring: Tobey Maguire, Liev Schreiber, Peter Sarsgaard, Lily Rabe and Michael Stuhlbarg

Director Edward Zwick knows how to film a battle; having distinguished himself with his Civil War drama Glory. His latest film depicts another battle; one less bloody but fraught with political implications; the historic chess match between Russian master Boris Spassky and American chess prodigy Bobby Fischer. The film not only captures the heightened tension of the matches themselves but the broader competitiveness of the Soviet and the U.S. governments, who viewed the duel as not merely a game but a test of cerebral superiority. But the film is more than the game; it also explores Fischer's infamous idiosyncrasies and paranoid psychosis; wonderfully dramatized by Tobey Maguire. Maguire's strong and nuanced performance is reason enough to see Zwick's film.

The Cold War zeitgeist and the mania surrounding the match; in the media and popular culture, are also grippingly recreated, lending Pawn Sacrifice a potent authenticity and poignant context.

We see Fischer's early life; his exceptional skills draw the attention of Brooklyn chess club president Carmine Nigro (Conrad Pla), who defeats the young boy in an informal match but recognizes his sophisticated play. Fischer walks away from the table in a rage, tears streaming down his cheeks but returns to the table with a jungle-cat's resolve. In a montage, we see him taking on adult players and accepting an award for being the youngest grand-master in the country. Later, we see Fischer as a young adult; telling a reporter he hopes to play and defeat the Russians, who are considered to be the best in the world.

As Fischer becomes a formidable player on the international scene, he is finally able to take on the Russians in a tournament held in Los Angeles. We see how critical the matches become for the Russian and American governments. Fischer's victories over ranked Russian players is given a spin by the Soviets when one player attributes his defeat to the flu. Meanwhile, a shadowy American government official approaches Fischer, and is keen to remind him the powers-that-be are no less interested than their Russian counterparts in the outcome.

Though Fischer is able to defeat the best Russian players, he falls to Spassky (Liev Schreiber), which triggers erratic behavior. Wandering aimlessly after his defeat, Fischer finds himself waking on a beach. While looking around him, he sees Spassky on the beach with several Russian aids. Fischer, roused by the sight of his competitor; approaches Spassky, shouting angrily "I'm coming for you!"

Fearing for her brother's mental health, his sister Joan (Lily Rabe), consults a psychiatrist about his behavior; hoping for a cursory diagnosis. She tells Father Bill Lombardy (Peter Sarsgaard), Fischer's unofficial aid and Paul Marshall (Michael Stuhlberg), the U.S. government official assigned to her brother that his letters reveal a paranoid psychosis, which she believes is brought on by the stress of intense competition.

In a scene reminiscent of a moment in the film The Conversation, we see Fischer dismantle his hotel room, searching for eavesdropping devices he believes have been concealed. Lombardy walks in to find the chess prodigy surrounded by debris and junk that were once furniture and electronic devices. Fischer becomes suspicious of everyone around him, even going so far as to direct accusatory statements at Lombardy and Marshall.

Fischer's aberrant behavior reaches a peak in Iceland, during the series of historic matches between himself and Spassky. In their first match, ambient sounds trouble him to distraction, including the near imperceptible whir of a camera motor, as well as the coughing and clearing of throats in the audience. After Fischer loses the first match, he makes what Lombardy sees as impossible demands for the second. Though some, including Spassky, see Fischer's demands as evidence of his fear of losing, Lombardy believes the fear of winning is the actual motivation. Among Fischer's demands are that the second match be played in a quiet ping-pong room without audience presence and that the camera be re-positioned to limit further noise. After Spassky and the sponsors agree to Fischer's demands, the matches resume while the audience--and the world at large--watch the intense competition via camera. As Fischer scores a victory, the momentum shifts. A particularly interesting development is Spassky's behavior, which begins to mirror Fischer's. Spassky rises from the table to inspect his chair, trying in vain to locate vibrations only he detects. He briefly causes a commotion when he turns over his chair to search for the vexation, only to find nothing.
As the film suggests, a touch of madness might be a byproduct of genius-level chess competition.

Though the outcome of the matches is widely known, Zwick nevertheless wrings every atom of suspense from the competition, which is regarded in chess circles as the greatest ever.

Maguire is an actor who has never been given his due. Here he gives a taut, powerful performance; showing us Fischer's genius and overpowering madness. Maguire's cherubic face is almost at odds with his blue eyes, which radiate his character's mental acuity and dangerous volatility. Schreiber is no less moving as Spassky. Observing Fischer, his expressions of amusement and bemusement are entertaining in themselves. Schreiber is an actor who can say so much without uttering a word, which serves him well in portraying the taciturn Spassky.

Zwick understands the significance of the Spassky/Fischer matches, which he articulates superbly to the audience. It is nice to be reminded, in this post-Cold War world, that something as seemingly frivolous as a chess match once carried geopolitical implications. Oddly enough, Fischer seemed to have not a care in the world for the politics surrounding the match; his obsession with the game wasn't mired in the mundane.

In the film's epilogue, we learn what became of the various participants, the rematch with Spassky and Fischer's subsequent flight from American authorities. But its Zwick's film that gives the events and the times attention-grabbing relevance. What began as a sensational sideshow of Cold War competitiveness became an iconic historical event. We so often see films dramatizing larger than life sporting events or celebrating famous athletes. It's refreshing to see a film about two ferocious competitors whose brilliance resides in the mind rather than the body. That madness sometimes attends genius seems readily apparent; a point the film makes convincingly.

Time Out of Mind

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Oren Moverman/Starring: Richard Gere, Ben Vereen, Jena Malone and Kyra Sedgwick

A film like Time Out of Mind, which deals with a homeless man of retirement age wondering the streets after being expelled from a girlfriend's apartment, could easily become an unfocused, monotonous affair if the story and characters had nowhere to go. Director Oren Moverman's film manages to avoid that narrative snare but it feels, nevertheless, like it merely meanders. That isn't necessarily bad, since the film's rhythm should mimic a homeless man's wanderings. But unfortunately its deliberate agenda becomes frustrating rather than bracingly unhurried.

Richard Gere plays George; said homeless man who is forced out of his temporary digs and into the unforgiving city streets by an unsympathetic building manager (Steve Buscemi's cameo); who rouses him from his bathtub slumber. George protests vigorously but to no avail.
Casting perennial heart-throb Richard Gere in such a role shows gumption. Making the audience ignore the fact that he isn't glamorous Gere but a homeless man presents quite a challenge.

Moverman resists exposition: who is this man? Why is he homeless? How did he come to be this way? Instead, he doles out information sparingly.

We see George become prey to what we might see as typical, homeless person behavior; spending money on booze and literally selling the clothes off his back to buy his next bottle or six-pack. As he wanders about, we also see him follow and shadow a young woman (Jena Malone), who tends bar and walks about with her boyfriend. We know immediately the young woman is his daughter--who else would she be? Her appearance in the film poses more questions about George's past.

As George spends his days looking for warm places to sleep, he decides to seek help from homeless service agency; who assign him a shelter. The questions a worker poses about his life, which he mostly refuses to answer, offer us tantalizing tid-bits of personal information.

George learns the price of avoiding the cold is fairly steep. Long lines snake from the shelter, where many like George wait for a bed and the promise of a morning meal. The shelter's rules are firmly enforced, such as mandatory 8 a.m. departures.
George keeps to himself, even when addressed by other shelter inhabitants, including a young man who seems out of place. After several nights, George meets the shelter gadfly; an intensely annoying Africa-American man named Dixon (an almost unrecognizable Ben Vereen), whose non-stop, nonsensical chatter irritates all those around him. Dixon takes to following George all over the city, trying to coax conversation and personal information out of him. George manages to resist Dixon though he can hardly keep him from following. In the course of Dixon's incessant yakking, we learn he was once a jazz pianist for Bill Evans, though the claim is highly suspect. After a sympathetic restaurant owner allows George and Dixon to use his facilities, he offers them food, which they readily accept. Seeing an old piano in the corner, George asks Dixon to play in hopes of catching him in a lie. Dixon sits before the piano, poised to play notes, only to stare silently at the keys.

George finally makes contact with his daughter Maggie, with predictable results. Less than happy to see her father, we learn that he left her to be raised by his mother-in-law; thereby missing her formative years. Maggie brushes him off, but not before giving him money. She also warns him that she may move away.

George returns to the shelter, where he has a dust-up with Dixon, and soon after, he sees his friend's mattress rolled up. The sight of the empty bed saddens him.

Another of George's street adventures involves a homeless woman named Karen (an equally unrecognizable Kyra Sedgwick), who he insists is his wife. After an evening of love-making, George finds himself alone and nearly nude, which draws the attention and the cell-phone photography of two teens.

Hoping to salvage his fractured relationship with Maggie, a pivotal meeting between the two takes place in the bar she tends. After an emotionally-fraught exchange, George leaves the bar. What happens shortly thereafter serves as the film's coda; an ending which resists resolution but allows for optimism.

I guess Moverman's film is supposed to be about a man seeking rapprochement but it's secondary purpose is to give us a sense of the plight of the homeless; how one's identity is closely tied to a place of residence and a social security card, which George pursues with no small effort.

Moverman, who knows his way around searing drama (The Messenger, The Rampart), is no stranger to grit, some of which he brings to his new film. But somehow George's plight and his failures at being a father just didn't elicit a visceral response. His situation is heartbreaking but I wasn't convinced. The problem lay partly in the casting of Richard Gere. Though I have no problem with Gere as an actor (he is quite excellent on occasion), the film can't shake his movie-star presence. Though he is homeless, I found his haircut to be fashionably coiffed. It's a case of miscasting, but kudos to Gere for taking on a challenging role.

What the audience comes away with is an interesting film with its share of fine moments but the sum total is a miss. Moverman would have us believe George is a mystery to explore, but other than expository information that is withheld, there isn't much to discover. Yes, he fouled up fatherhood and he pines for a wife but his predicament doesn't reveal anything about him or his character.

The movie is fine example of ambition overpowering execution. This is hardly a knock, for Moverman is a director who won't settle for mundane subject matter. He may have missed the mark this time, but eventual success is almost a certainty for a director of his talents.

Gone But Not Forgotten: Emanuele Crialese's Terraferma (2011)

Director: Emanuele Crialese/Starring: Filipo Pucillo, Donatella Finocchiaro, Beppe Fiorello, Mimmo Cuticchio, Timnit T, Claudio Santamaria and Lois Clottey

A film that never found American distribution in 2011 was Italian director Emanuele Crialese's Terraferma; a powerful drama that takes place on a tiny island somewhere between Sicily and the North African coast. Wedding stunning imagery to a riveting narrative, the film tells the story of an Italian family whose fishing livelihood is in decline; leaving them with scant means in which to earn a living. The family patriarch, Ernesto (Mimmo Cuticchio), refuses to heed his son Finanziere's (Claudio Santamaria) pleas to sell their fishing vessel, whose dismantling would earn the family the hefty sum of 100 thousand Euros. Ernesto's grandson Filippo (Filippo Pucillo), shares his grandfather's stubbornness though his mother Giulietta (Donatella Finocchiaro) believes her brother's idea to be financially sound. Giulietta urges Filippo to leave the island, believing his best opportunity for a richer life lay on the mainland. Filippo rejects his mother's wishes and instead helps her convert their island home to a tourist rental for vacationers swarming the island. Ernesto reluctantly agrees to use their boat for tourist outings, while Finanziere caters to tourists on his own vessel, where young, bikini-clad revelers dance and party when not swimming out at sea.

Before long, Filippo and Giulietta manage to attract three young tourists to their home. Filippo falls immediately for a beautiful blonde girl in the trio and discovers his attentions are reciprocated.

Crialese, known for his brilliant camerawork in the films Respiro and Golden Door, captures startling images in Terraferma: Ernesto's boat aloft in dry-dock; its underside heavy with parasitic sea-life; the ominous shards of immigrant boats floating on the ocean surface; a long-shot of Finanziere's boat from an undersea perspective, as tourists plunge into the sky-blue water. Also in Crialese's gallery are aerial pans of the island's geological past, which include sandy calderas and dormant volcanoes.

While taking the three tourists out to sea, Ernesto and Filippo spot a boat overladen with African refugees. Ernesto immediately contacts the Coast Guard, who warn him to not allow any to come aboard. But seeing a desperate group swimming toward the boat, Ernesto helps them onto the deck. Among those he helps are a pregnant woman named Sara (Timnit T.) and her son. As a coast guard ship approaches the boat containing refugees, Ernesto and Filippo hide their human cargo and return to shore, where the male refugees immediately scatter, leaving Sara and her son to fend for themselves. Ernesto brings Sara and her son home and the next day leaves them in Giulietta's care, who angrily resents their presence.

Soon after her arrival, Sara gives birth to a baby girl. Sara tells Giulietta about her time in a Libyan jail, where she was raped and impregnated by one of her captors. She also informs Giulietta that her husband is waiting for her in Turin and asks her how she might find passage there.

In a scene notable for its wondrous beauty, Giulietta and Filippo use a glowing globe to determine Sara's country of origin. We see Sara run her finger over the map before it comes to rest on Ethiopia. When Sara asks about the island's location on the globe, Filippo is quick to point out that the landmass is too small to be included.

The authorities soon discover that Ernesto and Filippo have assisted a group of refugees and harass them forthwith as they prepare for a tourist outing. The fascistic carabinieri bully Ernesto, demanding a permit to carry tourists, which he is unable to provide. The officer then seizes the boat; which sparks Filippo's violent outrage. Ernesto's protestations go unheard as the carabiniere spreads police tape across the deck.

In subsequent scenes, Ernesto explains to Filippo and Giulietta about the seaman's code of saving anyone in distress, which violates the rigid laws which prohibit lending refugees assistance.

The stress and tension of providing sanctuary becomes nearly unbearable for Ernesto and his family but they soon discover another conflict raging between Sara and her older son, who she finds strangling her newborn daughter. Her older son's shame in having a bastard sibling, one who is no-less the product of a rape, is too much for him to bear.

More tension mounts as the family realizes it must help Sara reach the mainland; a plan fraught with danger and risk. Filippo, in a self-sacrificial act, takes action with an uncertain end.

Crialese's film offers many parallels between Ernesto's family's struggles and those of the refugees, which are hardly dissimilar. Both see the mainland as a means to prosperity or a better life. Both are subject to draconian laws while both mothers see the Italian peninsula as an answer to their mutual troubles.

Fascinating contrasts abound between the refugees defying death out at sea and the pleasure-seeking tourists. A scene of the tourists frolicking in the ocean bears a disquieting incongruence to another of refugees swimming desperately toward Filippo's boat during an evening outing. The ocean is both recreational and deadly, depending on one's perspective.

More sobering imagery: a tracking shot of the ocean floor, where the belongings of those who have died in crossing lay in the sand. The camera pans along the sandy bottom until it rests on a body encrusted in reef-like debris; a grim, watery fate for many who brave the crossing.

Crialese's film has an immediate and topical relevance, which is echoed in the recent Syrian refugee crisis. I was impressed with the film's humanity and its sensitivity to an issue with no easy answers. Its sympathies for the refugees are very well conveyed.
The story is told with great care and compassion; its characters are vividly drawn and quite memorable. Its visual poetry is conspicuous, as is Crialese's excellent storytelling.

Fortunately the film is available on Netflix though I was lucky enough to catch it at a rare screening in a local cinema in what is probably its only American theatrical appearance ever. It is truly unforgettable.

Black Mass

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Scott Cooper/Starring: Johnny Depp, Joel Edgerton, Benedict Cumberbatch, Kevin Bacon, Dakota Johnson, Peter Sarsgaard, Jesse Plemons, Julianne Nicholson, Adam Scott and David Harbour

By now most people should be fairly familiar with the story of James "Whitey" Bulger; Boston's one time crime kingpin and leader of the notorious White Hill Gang; who operated with impunity in the 1970s' and early 80s'. His capture in 2011 made national headlines while a documentary by Joe Berlinger garnered critical acclaim in theaters in 2014. So, I pose a question once reserved for filmmakers who have seen fit to flood theaters with flicks about Steve Jobs: do we need another film about Bulger and if so, what more do we need to know? Director Scott Cooper (Out of the Furnace, Crazy Heart) must think the story is incomplete, for here we are again with Black Mass, based on the book of the same name by Dick Lehr and Gerard O'Neill. But Cooper's film isn't a biopic or even a character study. Though Bulger is the cynosural focus, it is his unholy alliance with the FBI that serves as the film's narrative center.

The story is told mainly in flashback, as we see respective members of the White Hill Gang sitting before an FBI agent, offering confessionals and relating their stories.

The film begins in mid-seventies South Boston. A south-side tough named Kevin Weeks (Jesse Plemons) guards the door to the bar which serves as Bulger's headquarters. When three men try to gain entrance, a brutal round of fisticuffs breaks out, which necessitates Bulger's intervention. Impressed by Kevin's scrappy defense, Bulger appoints the young man to his muscle detail.

As Bulger's gang makes incursions into Italian mob territory, an FBI agent assigned to rid the city of organized crime, John Connolly (Joel Edgerton) decides to enlist Bulger's help. What makes the idea particularly fascinating is Connolly's relationship with Bulger (a scary Johnny Depp), who was once a chum from his old south-side neighborhood. When the two meet, Bulger is wary of John's agenda. John proposes an alliance that would ensure the defeat of the Italian mobs in exchange for Bulger's complete freedom from arrest and FBI harassment. Seeing the deal as self-advantageous, Bulger agrees to an alliance in spite of his reluctance to help the FBI. Bulger's other ally is his younger brother Billy (Benedict Cumberbatch), a member of the Massachusetts state senate who turns a blind eye to his brother's illicit affairs.

John's deal with Bulger draws heat from his superiors; particularly his boss Charles McGuire (Kevin Bacon), who would like nothing more than to bring the kingpin to justice.

In early scenes, we see just how brutal Bulger can be when he and Kevin drive an Italian mobster to a secluded location before beating him savagely. Bulger's lack of concern about reprisals is consistent with his fearlessness and his disquieting volatility. Watching Bulger dispatch a fellow gang-member days after being challenged in the bar, we are never sure how he will behave or respond, which keeps associates (and the audience) in a constant state of anxiety and fear.

We also see some of Bulger's personal life. Bulger visits his girlfriend Lyndsey (Dakota Johnson) and his son Douglas. During a meal, Bulger is reprimanded by Lyndsey for giving their son advice on how to avoid being punished for hitting someone in the face. In another scene, we see Bulger having dinner with his brother and his mother; a momentary glimpse into his family life.

But mostly we see Bulger at work; encroaching on Italian mob territory and executing those who get in his way.

As time passes, Bulger provides the FBI with little in the way of useful information though John pressures him to honor his deal. McGuire begins to lose patience and begins to wonder why the FBI is letting Bulger operate with impunity.

In time, Bulger becomes more ambitious. His involvement in the business of the sport Jai-alai; a Latin-American sport that briefly gained popularity in the U.S. in the 1970s evolves from mild interest to active partner. Before long, Bulger wrests control of the business from its founders by intimidation and murder, drawing more of the FBI's attention and ire.

Connolly's wife Marianne (Julianne Nicholson), like her husband's FBI superiors, sees his partnership with Bulger for what it is; a dangerous and immoral conflict of interest. Connolly invites Bulger and a White Hill gang member to dinner where he and another agent named John Morris sit across a table. When Bulger asks John about his wife, he mentions that she is upstairs, feeling ill. Bulger excuses himself from the table to visit her, which becomes a study in dark, psycho-sexual seduction and intimidation. Bulger is both menacing and creepy when he runs his hand over Marianne's face; her revulsion and fear palpable.

Before long, both McGuire and Fred Wyshak (Cory Stoll); an aggressive, results-oriented district attorney who is also eager to see Bulger behind bars pressure Connolly further. Wyshak's integrity is such that he refuses Connolly's bribe of two Red-Sox tickets; giving him a dressing down instead that leaves him speechless.

Where Bulger's ambitions lead is hardly a mystery. As I mentioned earlier, the story is so familiar now after Berlinger's film, and Scorcese's The Departed; another drama based on Bulger's life. I return to my earlier question: was this film necessary? I suppose it was if only to see Johnny Depp play something other than pirate Jack and Willy Wonka. His performance, though interesting, isn't really infused with any psychological depth or psychic backstory that might shed light on the man's mind. Maybe it's unfair to ask that of an actor playing someone who probably has no depth anyway. I think I've seen more than my fair share of mob films, like Goodfellas, set a nigh-impossible standard to overcome--which makes me ask what new ground does this film claim? There were facts about his life of which I was unaware, like the Jai-alai business, but the film merely fills in more details and facts. This is one time I would have liked to learn something of his upbringing as a "Southey" and his experiences in Alcatraz and Leavenworth that might have shaped his thinking and behavior, as well as his ambitions.

The supporting cast was quite terrific, particularly Joel Edgerton, Julianne Nicholson and Dakota Johnson, who showed more range here than 50 Shades.

High marks for the production design, which captured the gritty look of 1970s' Boston; aided in part by the use of city locales.

I enjoyed the film and Depp's Bulger, but as more time is displaced between me and the screening, it seems less impressive, in spite of the excellent performances. The photos of Depp in his blue contacts and slicked hair are something from a horror film rather than real life. His appearance is an exaggeration of Bulger's, which becomes more a distraction than an attempt at physical accuracy.

I wouldn't dissuade anyone from seeing Cooper's film. I might even recommend it but my recommendation would come buried under a pile of reservations. See it to see some fine acting and Johnny Depp or, if you can't get enough of Whitey Bulger, you might be inspired by that reason alone. Otherwise; I can't think of other reasons.

I Am Nojoom, Age 10 and Divorced

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Khadija Al-Salami/Starring: Reham Mohammed

Yemeni director Khadija Al-Salami's film I Am Nojoom, Age 10 and Divorced may have an unwieldy title but it directly and accurately describes the plight of a Yemeni girl, who, like thousands of girls in her home country, are married off against their will. This horrifically unjust practice is the subject of Al-Salami's narrative film, which is based on real events and partly on her own experiences. I Am Nojoom has a blunt immediacy that leaves one recoiling in horror, but it also brings an injustice perpetrated on young girls into sharp relief.

Nojoom, as the title suggests, is a ten-year-old girl living with her family in a village in Yemen. The rocky hills on which her village rests, are terraced with crops, which are treacherously lined with rocks that sometimes tumble downward; injuring and/or threatening those below. The environment is far from lush; animals share living spaces; meandering cows and sheep are a common sight around her family's home.

When the film begins, we see Nojoom running through a Yemeni city street as the young girl dodges and evades a grown man. Why and how she happens to be in a city is soon revealed. Fleeing her pursuer, she finds sanctuary inside a taxi and commands the driver to the courthouse.

The story backtracks to an earlier period in her life when her christening became a bone of contention. Though her mother calls her Nojoom, meaning "stars," her father insists she be Nojood, which means "hidden." Though the spellings are separated by a mere consonant, their respective meanings say much about female regard in the Arab world.

The hard life in Nojoom's village is further complicated by dangers visited upon women, particularly young girls. While playing one day, Nojoom notices a dubious young man in the village forcing her older sister into a shed. Her sister's screams, which are puzzling to the young and naive Nojoom, are unmistakably those of someone being violated.

Not long after, Nojoom's father moves the family from their village home to the city, where they find their small home is only one among many indignities their new surroundings present. As Najoom's father is unable to find steady work, the family begins to feel the lash of deprivation. We see the meager dinner Nojoom's family must share and worse still, the landlord's sudden presence, which brings a threat about the delinquent rent. Faced with homelessness and hunger, Nojoom and her siblings take to the street to beg.

For reasons unknown to her, Nojoom suddenly finds herself being removed from her home. Nojoom's fears mount as her mother hurries her out the door and into a car occupied by two men, who drive her to her new home; a village slightly more prosperous than the one her family left.

The reality of the situation becomes harrowingly apparent as Nojoom finds herself forced to become a housewife and maintain a home. Nojoom's unsuitability for the role of housewife is reinforced by the doll she clutches. In a fit of rage, her mother-in-law jettisons the doll out the window. Nojoom's feelings of fear, bewilderment and resentment elicit a visceral reaction, as we watch her perform backbreaking chores. But her greatest horror is in the bedroom, where her husband seeks marital consummation. In spite of Nojoom's violent protests, the husband has his way. A shot of Nojoom in a fetal curl and a bloodied bed-sheet is a very grim and shocking image.

A story about a girl forced to become a child-bride is compelling enough but Al-Salami's film carries another perspective. Rather than focusing solely on Nojoom's predicament, we see a concatenation of economic setbacks that lead to her veritable imprisonment.

Nojoom's husband, frustrated by her determined resistance and her inability to acclimate to her new home, is compelled to bring her back to her family in the city, where he pleads with her father to inculcate docility and accept her new life. As seen in the beginning, she escapes her husband and brings her plight to a progressively-minded judge's attention. Sympathetic to her cause, her father and husband are arrested and brought before the court. Her father tells his version of the story, which we see in flashback. Faced with a desperate situation, he marries off Nojoom for a sizable price and for what he sees as his family's salvation. But as he explains to the judge, his fear of Nojoom meeting the same fate as his older daughter; a rape that dishonors his daughter and his family, also weighed heavily in his decision.

Again in flashback, we see Nojoom's enraged father after her older daughter's rape. We also see him sitting before the sheik; the village's highest moral authority, pleading his case for retribution. Though the sheik forces marriage upon his daughter's rapist, we can understand (though not condone) how a Yemeni father might resort to drastic measures to avoid the same fate befalling his daughter.

But Al-Salami's broad perspective allows us to see how other members of the family are victims of diminished means. Nojoom's brother, with whom she shares a strong familial bond, is subject to abject servitude. We see the brother waiting on a wealthy Saudi, whose contempt for his Yemeni servant is hardly disguised.

I think one of the film's great strengths is its wise and perspicacious view of Nojoom's problem, which represents the child brides problem as a whole. Al-Salami shows us the issue's economic dimension, as well as its long-standing practice within tribal culture.
But the film's power also derives from Al-Salami's wondrous images. Yemeni landscapes are hardly a common sight in cinema. Al-Salami frames the rugged beauty of the countryside; the deserty heights and terraced hills in the scorching, Yemeni sunlight, proudly and lovingly. The beautiful landscapes are a welcome relief from the story's brutal truths.

The cast is comprised of both professional and non-professional actors, which results predictably in uneven performances but they are nonetheless moving. Reham Mohammed is poignant as Nojoom; a demanding role for a child actress. Mohammed must capture both Nojoom's innocence and the wrenching exile from her child-like state after she is violated by her husband. She does so with stunning skill and artistry.

It might be easy to overlook the fact that a Yemeni woman wrote and directed the story, which she filmed on location. I can't imagine the Yemeni rural communities would have been entirely sympathetic to her film-making efforts.

Whether Al-Salami's film draws the world's attention to the heinous injustice remains to be seen but it seems the world is slowly becoming aware of the oppressive and degrading treatment women are often subjected to in third world countries (though the western world is far from being a paragon of equality). Al-Salami's film is a compelling, sobering story and a plea for social reform. Though it succeeds in its former endeavor, we can only hope it does so in the latter.

The Visit

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: M. Night Shyamalan/Starring: Olivia DeJonge, Ed Oxenbould, Deanna Dunagan, Peter McRobbie and Kathryn Hahn

The man who puts the hack in hackneyed; M. Night Shyamalan, has brought his latest horror flick to theaters but its only horrifying quality is its famished imagination. Like most of Shyamalan's films; the premise shows promise but he is unable to exploit his own ideas for real scares or suspense though he isn't bad at establishing mood and atmosphere. What we get mostly is horrible dialogue, even worse acting (Shyamalan's fault, mostly) and a once-imaginative horror-film storytelling innovation that should be retired once and for all. I'm talking of course about character-generated film footage--a close relative to found-footage--which has become the default horror film gimmick in this century. That Shyamalan would resort to its usage tells me he's become lazy or his already-shallow well of storytelling tricks has become parched.

The Visit tells the story of a mother (an unconvincing Kathryn Hahn) and her two children; the teen Becca (a stomach-churningly annoying Olivia DeJonge) and her younger brother Tyler (Ed Oxenbould, who manages to one-up DeJonge in the annoying category). Though their mother has been estranged from her parents since she was nineteen, she has agreed to let Becca and Tyler stay with them for a week. Becca, an aspiring documentary filmmaker, hopes to film the experience.

The opening scenes where Becca and Tyler interact are marred by unnatural dialogue one might hear on any Nickelodeon sit-com. Becca talks earnestly into the camera about documentarian techniques while her brother quickly becomes an irritant with his lispy witticisms, which sound too smart and pat for a kid his age.

We learn the father left the mother sometime in the past, which hasn't caused the kids any undue stress or grief.

While they set off for their grandparents, their mother goes on vacation with her new boyfriend.
When Becca and Tyler step out of the train, their grandparents wave and welcome them with a large sign. Their grandmother--Nana (Deanna Dunagan) and their grandfather--Pop Pop (Peter McRobbie), seem to be typical, genial grandparents; baking biscuits and cookies and taking the kids for walks in the woods. Becca and Tyler learn their grandparents also spend time as counselors for a rehab center.

All seems normal until Becca and Tyler begin hearing strange noises after bedtime. Upon opening the door to their bedroom, they find a naked Nana scratching the walls. Spooked, they immediately shut the door. Perplexed and anxious, the kids begin to notice other strange behavior. Seeing Pop Pop chopping wood, Tyler calls to him, only to be ignored. When he does turn to acknowledge Tyler's call, he turns away without calling back. Pop Pop also issues a mysterious warning about the basement, which he says is full of dangerous mold.

Later, Tyler finds a pile of soiled adult diapers in the tool shed--a very disturbing development. Out of Pop Pop's earshot, Nana explains to the kids that the soiled diapers are their grandfather's way of dealing with an embarrassing problem. Later, Pop Pop and Nana sit Becca and Tyler down in the living room to explain their odd behavior, which they attribute to Sundowning syndrome; a condition where symptoms such as disorientation, confusion, auditory hallucinations, yelling, pacing and suspicion become common. Pop Pop issues another ominous warning to Becca and Tyler about keeping their bedroom door locked after 9:30 p.m.
More creepiness ensues when Nana asks Becca to clean the oven by climbing inside. Entering the oven tentatively, Nana urges her to climb further in. The nail-biting moment, when we anticipate Nana shutting the oven door, never comes but the scene effectively establishes a feeling of dread.

Becca and Tyler decide to film their grandparent's odd behavior and even interview a former patient from the rehab center named Stacey (Celia Keenan-Bolger), who comes to the house with a blueberry pie. The interview, like most of the others Becca conducts, sound very unnatural and phony. The ubiquitous cameras she and her brother always have on their person or situate in the house become unrealistically intrusive, which is a narrative shortcoming in most films of this variety.

Curious about what Nana and Pop Pop actually do after 9:30 p.m., Tyler sets up cameras about the house to capture the weird happenings. In a subsequent scene that is unforgivably Paranormal Activity, we see the living room from the perspective of Tyler's strategically-placed camera. The living room's stillness is disturbed by Nana's frenetic presence, which includes pacing and racing about the room. A jolt at the end of the scene seems very obvious and cheap. That Shyamalan would deliberately employ the fixed camera scare tactic that Paranormal Activity has bled to the grave shows a glaring, creative lapse in his film-making.

After Becca and Tyler decide the situation at their grandparent's house has become too dangerous, they contact their mother via Skype, who, when she sees Nana and Pop Pop, reveals something shocking that provides the film a clever twist for which Shyamalan is famous.
Following on the heels of their mother's revelation is Becca and Tyler's basement investigation, which provides horrific corroboration for their mother's claim.

I credit Shyamalan for imparting some creepiness to the climactic sequence, where Becca is locked inside a bedroom with Nana; who paces madly and makes all manner of hissing sounds, threatening the teen's life. Meanwhile, downstairs, Pop Pop and Tyler have a showdown of their own, which partly involves unpleasantness with his soiled diapers.

The film, like many of Shyamalan's other works, deals with families in crisis or who have become symbolically fractured. In this case, the Norman Rockwellian conception of blissful grandparents/grandchildren relations is turned on its head. Becca and Tyler's own family, where divorce has sundered familial cohesion, serves the film's overarching theme about family dysfunction.

I think Shyamalan's film had the makings of a satisfying horror film but so many things conspire against it, namely the acting; the movie's biggest liability. Shyamalan is mostly to blame for this. Very little of the dialogue sounds natural; most of it seems canned and in Becca and Tyler's cases, it is often too-sophisticated and irritatingly precocious. Dunagan and McRobbie could have been a lot more menacing. Most of the time Pop Pop and Nana behave like over-the-top community theater actors rather than dangerously volatile psychotics. The performances also come off as jokey; Pop Pop and Nana often seem more comical than frightening though they have their creepy moments.

The most aggravating flaw in the film is the aforementioned first-person footage, which becomes quickly tiresome. The second most aggravating aspect of the film are the two leads. Why Shyamalan would cast two annoying Australian actors (DeJonge and Oxenbould) when America has a warehouse chock full of its own is mystifying. Hahn is given little to do except appear via Skype, where her transmissions seem as unconvincing as her acting. Never for a moment was I convinced Hahn was Becca and Tyler's mother.

Once the pivotal Shyamalanian twist arrives in the story, the film staggers toward a predictable end.

I think Shyamalan has storytelling gifts but his Achilles heel are his scripts. I think he would do better to adapt someone else's material. His films have great twists but are always uneven. The violent climax in this film should have been harrowing and pulse-quickening but it only made me feel impatient.

I didn't stick around for Tyler's silly hip-hop performance over the end credits; I had already had enough of it earlier in the film when he entertained a black ticket man aboard the train, who was implausibly friendly and accommodating.

Shyamalan has become the film-goer's whipping boy, for very valid reasons, though he has made a few interesting films. The Visit will do little to mend his reputation. Too bad; I thought the film's story showed promise. Oh well; I'm sure he'll keep trying.

Learning to Drive

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Isabel Coixet/Starring: Ben Kingsley, Patricia Clarkson, Grace Gummer, Sarita Choudhury and Jake Weber

Spanish director Isabel Coixet (My Life Without Me, Elegy) helms Learning to Drive; her adaptation of Katha Pollitt's essay of the same name. The film arrives in theaters with little advance notice. I found this strange, given the considerable talents of its two principal actors: Ben Kingsley and Patricia Clarkson. With an accomplished director, cast and intelligent source material, one might think the film would be a sure thing. Think again. All conflict in Coixet's film is very light and unlikely to upset seniors attending a Saturday afternoon screening. Its attempts at profundity: the car as a metaphor for self-empowerment and Zen-like here-and-nowness are trite and reaching.

Patricia Clarkson is Wendy, a moderately known book critic who discovers her husband Ted (Jake Weber) has left her for another woman. In spite of his callous disregard for her feelings, Wendy's love for him still burns. Her daughter Tasha (Grace Gummer), who is supposed to be in college, is living happily on a farm in Vermont; an act of activism Wendy doesn't entirely approve of.

When Tasha invites her mother to the farm, Wendy decides to take driving lessons in hopes of being able to drive herself. The move is supposed to represent self-determination; a quality Wendy lacks.

Her instructor, an Indian cab-driver named Darwan (Ben Kingsley) meets her one night after a cab ride in which she and her husband have a relationship-ending shouting match. Not long after, Wendy contacts Darwan for driving lessons. Her initial instruction is a disaster, which discourages her from taking a second lesson but Darwan's professional pride makes him persistent.

We learn Darwan is a political refugee who has since became naturalized. His Sikh identity becomes an object of oppression in his native country. With no wife and child, he shares a house with Indian refugees in Queens, many of who are illegal.

As the driving lessons continue, Darwan and Wendy become friendly. The lessons also become life lessons, as Darwan's instruction is supposed to serve (at least for the audience) as ways to cope with the real world.

Forging ahead without her husband, Wendy begins to date but finds it less than satisfying. Meanwhile, a marriage is arranged for Darwan and his wife Jasleen (Sarita Choudhury), who makes her way from India to be with him. Darwan finds life with Jasleen rather difficult, for his work keeps him away from home while her fear of her new surroundings keeps her isolated. Making an attempt to learn English, Jasleen picks up a few words from a children's program, only to be told by Darwan the words are actually Spanish. Darwan finds his new wife's self-imposed isolation frustrating but his patient nature prompts him to encourage her rather than scold.

Though an attempt is made to make Darwan three-dimensional, somehow the character still comes off as a genial guru without flaws, in spite of Kingsley's best efforts. The character of Wendy seems also sadly underwritten. If this story is based on real life people and events, it also seems rather cliched and the characters appear as lazily-conceived people from a B-movie drama. Because of this, the story walks an uninspired straight line. The movie does tantalize with the passing possibility of true friendship between Darwan and Wendy but it sadly doesn't happen.

Most every problem in the film is ironed out in orderly fashion. Jasleen succeeds at meeting people and venturing out of the house, Wendy earns her license, buys a car, becomes empowered and sheds her husband's influence, while her daughter Tasha, an uninteresting peripheral character, leaves the farm to return home. Darwan finds a wife and the makings of happiness, in spite of his permanent exile from India. I normally avoid giving away such information regarding characters but their respective arcs aren't difficult to ascertain within the first five minutes of the film. I expected a lot more from a story based on an essay. Do these people really exist in real life? If so, they must be more fascinating than they appear here. This comes as a surprise, for Coixet's films are usually populated with more nuanced characters.

I really wanted this movie to work. I've always held Kingsley and Clarkson in the highest esteem but as talented as they are, actors can only do so much with material so broadly drawn. This should be a touching story; Indian refugee and Manhattan book critic become friends, but it doesn't stretch itself. I won't read the article the film is based on; it would be frustrating to learn the real story has power and unpredictability.

Learning to Drive isn't horrible but it isn't good either. It's difficult saying anything about the movie because I find myself barely inspired enough to comment. If it weren't for Kingsely, Clarkson and Coixet, I may have skipped this post. Take my advice, wait for the film to stream.

A Walk in the Woods

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Ken Kwapis/Starring: Robert Redford, Nick Nolte, Emma Thompson, Mary Steenburgen, Nick Offerman and Kristen Schaal

Sometimes I think walking movies work better than road movies. Or maybe I'm just a sucker for them. In recent years, The Way and Wild are two movies I've really enjoyed. A film about a journey on foot allows more time for characters and situations to develop and for the possibility of adventure and reflection. Director Ken Kwapis' new film; A Walk in the Woods, adapted from bestselling travel author Bill Bryson book of the same name, has varying measures of drama, comedy and adventure. The film is a light, enjoyable romp; hardly exceptional but fun and pleasing. How persnickety Bill Bryson fans might be about Kwapis' adaptation only time will tell but having read some of his work, I can say I the film is faithful to his sense of humor, which is probably the most critical element of the adaptation. If one can ignore Redford's lack of resemblance to the author, then Bryson's fans may have little to quibble about with this film.

After attending a friend's funeral, writer Bill Bryson (Robert Redford) hatches a plan to walk the daunting Appalachian Trail, which stretches from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mt. Katahdin in Maine. Though he can hardly explain his reasons for wanting to make the attempt to his wife Catherine (Emma Thompson), who is vehemently opposed to the idea, he forges ahead with plans. Though Catherine can hardly dissuade him, she nevertheless issues a proviso that he be accompanied by a friend. A amusing scene where Bryson listens to messages from those he has invited follows soon after. It is hardly surprising that all emphatically reject his idea; some even cite the discouraging statistics about how only ten percent of those who attempt the walk make it. Catherine does her part to discourage him by submitting data from the internet on grisly stories about murders, maulings and hiker disappearances on the trail.

Bryson, undeterred, resumes his preparations. His inexperience is decidedly conspicuous when he visits a hiking/camping outfitter to supply himself for the hike.

Soon after, Bryson receives a call from a "friend" man named Stephen Katz; who, in his growly, gravelly voice, asks if he can join the trek. Katz explains he learned of Bryson's idea from a mutual friend. When Catherine learns that Katz is the man on the phone, she reminds her husband of the ill-fated hike the two shared in Europe, which ended with Bryson's disdain for his walking companion. Bryson's amusing reply is that he "I started out disliking him but despised him at the end." Without an alternate, Bryson agrees reluctantly to Katz's offer.

Bryson and Catherine arrive at the airport to greet Katz (a raggedly funny Nick Nolte), whose disheveled clothes and beefy frame leave the couple skeptical about his selection as a hiking companion. After awkward greetings, Katz settles in at Bryson's home.

At a family dinner, Katz regales Bryson's family with stories about their misadventures when they walked the Camino de Santiago de Campostela in Spain and France.

In a private conversation Bryson and Katz share, we learn about the latter's alcoholism and the loss of his wife, which he has yet to overcome.

The journey itself, as one might expect, is made colorful by mishaps and the arduous nature of the hike. Watching Katz wheeze and sweat lends much hilarity to the walk, as does a chance meeting with a a garrulous young woman named Mary Ellen (the always quirky Kristen Schaal), who immediately offers critical comments about their choice of equipment. She further irritates Bryson and Katz by mocking their modest walking mileage. Annoyed beyond endurance, the two men manage to escape her by hurrying on the trail though they narrowly miss reuniting with her later, which makes for another comically suspenseful moment.

To escape Mary Ellen, Bryson and Katz decide to hitch a ride, which becomes another ordeal when they discover the young couple in the front seat hardly have their minds on the road.

The discomforts and dangers mount as the men find a trail lodge has no vacancies save for a communal room with bunk beds. Bryson's humorously tetchy exchange with a seasoned hiker shows the bracing wit for which his books are known.

The middle part of the film, where Bryson and Katz check into a motel, is cause for more hi-jinks and even some romance. The motel manager, Jeannie (the lovely and talented Mary Steenburgen) takes a shine to Bryson; making plain her amorous intentions during a chance encounter outside his room. While Bryson, ever true to Catherine, rejects her overtures, Katz manages to seduce a large woman named Beulah in a laundromat. Their assignation ends dangerously when her husband comes to the motel looking for Katz, which prompts a hasty flight from the premises.

All along the trail, Bryson and Katz engage in conversation that reflect the film's themes of mortality, loneliness, marriage, sex and their past as friends. The hike itself is a not-very-subtle journey-as-life metaphor but it doesn't bludgeon the audience with this idea.

Though Bryson and Katz struggle on the trail, moments of otherworldly beauty become serendipitous. A beautiful vista of the Smokey Mountains rewards the two men somewhat for their efforts. Bryson also dazzles Katz with his knowledge of geological history, which he lovingly calls upon when he stops to observe rock formations.

A near-fatal mishap on the trail leads to more reflection and a rescue from two hyper-fit hikers, both of whom Bryson and Katz find irritating. A kind of running gag throughout the film is Katz's insistence, in spite of Bryson's claims to the contrary, that their experiences will make a great book.

A film like A Walk in the Woods might have become tedious if stretched to a protracted running time. It's modest 104 minute length is just right for a film of its type.

The film doesn't traffic in life-affirming, smell-the-roses homilies but it does try to leaven the humor with Bryson and Katz's thoughts about their lives and expectations. Whether the men succeed in their goal of reaching the other end of the trail, whether Katz overcomes his cravings for alcohol and whether Katz and Bryson come to appreciate the other's company I will leave unanswered, though the audience may have little trouble divining plot and subplot outcomes.

I found the casting of Redford and Nolte to be very inspired and hardly obvious. They seem to have onscreen chemistry and their diametrically different body types make for a visually funny contrast. Though I enjoyed Redford as Bryson, it is Nolte who steals the show. I found his oafish, earthily slobby appearance and manner not only endearing but always good for a chuckle. Emma Thompson and Mary Steenburgen have few opportunities to shine but everything in the film and story are peripheral to Bryson and Katz and their journey.

Kwapis' film isn't a profound, poetic meditation but Bryson's books seldom are. What it is a slight but fun trifle; a gambol rather than a 1,000 mile hike. The film is A Walk in the Woods and it succeeds on those very modest terms.

No Escape

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: John Erick Dowdle/Starring: Owen Wilson, Lake Bell and Pierce Brosnan

It seems a new genre is slowly emerging; that of white, western families imperiled in southeast Asian natural catastrophes or political upheaval. In 2012 we saw The Impossible; a story about a white, European family struggling for their lives after a tsunami strikes the Thai coastline. Now we have director John Erick Dowdle's No Escape; a story of an American family visiting a southeast Asian country (the country is never specified, as far as I can recall), who try to flee during a violent uprising.
Though Dowdle's film has a hyper-kinetic urgency, it is also one of those films that becomes insubstantial when considered shortly thereafter. In the sobering light of day, one sees the film for what it is: an engaging but shallow thriller.

Owen Wilson plays Jack Dwyer, an American engineer in the employ of a multinational company who has come to southeast Asia to lend his expertise to a project that will help modernize the country's water system. After arriving at the airport, Jack and his wife Annie (Lake Bell) and their two daughters meet a man named Hammond (Pierce Brosnan), who takes an interest in their welfare by steering them away from shady taxi drivers. The seemingly genial Hammond then rides with the family to the hotel. We gather Hammond is some sort of businessman though what he does specifically remains nebulous.

We learn that Jack's professional woes, which include his own failed company, demand the family be itinerant, a burden Annie is keen to remind her husband about.

As Jack wanders from his hotel to find a newspaper, he visits the local markets, hoping to secure a copy of USA Today. On his way back to the hotel, he finds himself in between an armed mob and a phalanx of police men in riot gear. The mob clashes with the police while Jack struggles to escape. En route to the hotel, he sees the police have been overcome as the mob swells to army-size proportions. He also notices the mob's murderous agenda includes hacking people to death with machetes and shooting anyone unattached to the uprising. Horrified, Jack manages to reach the hotel, only to find the staff is busy trying to barricade itself against the rampaging mob. Back in his room, Jack tries to explain to his wife what is happening in the street. Jack learns his older daughter has wandered down alone to the hotel pool. Jack orders his wife and other daughter to stay in the room while he searches for his daughter. While making his way to his daughter, he sees that members of the mob have forced their way into the hotel and are conducting room by room executions. He takes a stairwell down to the pool and eventually finds his daughter though the mob spots him and gives chase. While he and his daughter make their way back, Annie hears the screams and shouts of victims the mob is hacking to death. She barricades the door until her husband arrives.

The terrifying scenes of the roving mob members have a brutal immediacy and visceral impact as well as a frightening realism.

Jack and his family find they have little choice but to seek refuge on the roof of the hotel, which they find barricaded from outside by hotel guests and staff, who have also sought shelter there. Relieved to be among fellow refugees, their sense of security is dashed when a helicopter, which they believe to be part of an evacuation effort, turns out to be manned by the members of the uprising; who begin shooting at the fleeing hotel patrons. Though the helicopter crashes while trying to maintain a hovering position, the mob finally breaks through the doors. Searching for a way off the roof, Jack finds that their only means of escape is to leap across a chasm to another roof; a frightening and highly dangerous alternative.
As the mob makes its way toward Jack's position, he and his family manage to make the leap to the other roof, though not without desperate measures.

Jack and his family play an unrelentingly tense cat and mouse game with the mob through buildings and city streets as they hatch a plan to reach the American Embassy. The harrowing journey is for naught; for they find the embassy has been overrun. The only remaining means to freedom is a highly dangerous trip down river to Vietnam, where they hope to gain asylum.

Jack learns the nature of the uprising after Hammond rescues the family from the mob's clutches--a nail-biting scene inside a garden where Annie almost sacrifices herself to save her husband. Hammond reveals his true identity as an operative for English intelligence, which comes as hardly a surprise; his motives for being in the country seemed suspicious from the start. He explains that the uprising is a response to the west's attempt to gain control of the water supply, in which espionage plays a major role. He also tells Jack his work as an engineer is merely a means to that end. The closest Hammond comes to an expression of contrition is to acknowledge that the uprising is merely the populace's way of protecting one of the country's resources from multinational corporate control, which is backed by capitalist governments. It's hard to believe that something that seems to be of paramount importance to the west wouldn't be backed to some degree by the American military.

Dowdle, who directed the creepy, 2014 horror film As Above, So Below, brings some of the same intensity to his new film. Barely a moment of rest is to be had; the suspense sustained for 103 minutes is almost exhausting. The physical and mental strain on the cast must have been tremendous. Owen Wilson and Lake Bell, who are typically comedic actors, perform admirably here in roles that demand more dramatic reach. Though his part is minimal, Brosnan shows his action movie experience as 007 hasn't gone to waste. Brosnan is quite credible as an agent in the service of unscrupulous higher powers.

But as I mentioned before, the film doesn't really add up to much. The film feels like a ride on a bullet train without breaks but its manic kineticism is meaningless, in spite of Hammond's weak and predictable revelation.

No Escape is a heady experience but one that leaves one feeling somewhat guilty for enjoying. Though it aims for a higher message, the film is really just a thriller sans intellectual gravitas. It's a jolt and a jive and that's it.

Diary of a Teenage Girl

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Marielle Heller/Starring: Bel Powley, Kristen Wiig, Alexander Skarsgard, Christopher Meloni and Madeleine Waters

What may be the last teen film of the summer: Diary of a Teenage Girl opened this week at local theaters and I couldn't help but compare it to other films in the genre that have played on screens the last few months. First-time director Marielle Heller's film comes on the heels of Me and Earl and the Dying Girl and Paper Towns, which proves there can never be a glut of coming-of-age films. Of the three summer offerings, I must say Heller's is the superior.
Based on the novel by Phoebe Gloeckner, Diary of a Teenage Girl takes place in early 1970s' San Francisco. 15-year-old Minnie (fearlessly played by British actress Bel Powley) is a budding underground cartoonist in the vein of Aline Kaminsky (legendary comic artist Robert Crumb's significant other). Minnie's home-life is anything but typical. Its freewheeling, free-love atmosphere, is fostered by her mother Charlotte (well-played by Kristen Wiig), a divorcee who enjoys parties, getting high and hanging out with like-minded people.

Aside from her accomplished drawings, Bel's other concern is her eagerness to have sex. She is acutely aware of the boys in class but also her mother's boyfriend Monroe (wonderfully played by Alexander Skarsgard), who she first develops a crush on then fantasizes about. Her daydreams and thoughts are often accompanied by animation (why are there so many indie teen films with animation?) and an animated Aline Kaminsky, who often serves as her counsel and adviser.

What begins as seemingly harmless companionship becomes serious when Minnie is forthright about what she wants to do with Monroe. He scoffs at first then submits to her overture.

The carnal relationship that follows serves as Minnie's sexual awakening as both she and Monroe's clandestine trysts become frequent. Minnie naturally shares her secret with no one save for her best friend Kimmie (Madeleine Waters) who finds the idea mildly repugnant. Before long, Kimmie is joining Minnie in her daring, sexual forays. Pursuing their sexual adventures to an extreme, Minnie propositions two men in a bar one night, which results in an experience both she and Kimmie regret.

While Minnie begins to see her meetings with Monroe as the foundation for a relationship, he regards their sexual encounters as enjoyable larks without emotional entanglements. Minnie is stung by Monroe's casual, non-committal attitude, but their assignations continue, in spite of their conflicting perspectives on their relationship.

But Minnie's carnal curiosity isn't fixed solely on men. Minnie and a young lesbian she meets at a party share a dalliance and a mutual fascination but the relationship leads nowhere and soon becomes a boundary in her sexual frontier.

Though Monroe is able to curb Charlotte's suspicions about his indiscretion, she discovers them anyway. Given Charlotte's own liberation and her progressive attitudes about sex, we see the limits of her tolerance when she visits her rage on Monroe. She even demands Monroe marry her daughter; a command that is more a threat than a directive.

As the relationship begins to cool, Minnie resumes her drawing and sees the relationship with an enlightened dispassion. The scene where the two meet by chance on a sidewalk; she selling her drawings and he out for a jog, has a finality that gives us some sense of Minnie's passage from innocence to experience.

Though the story in Heller's film seems so familiar, it feels as if its never been told before. It's difficult to make any story on this subject seem new and unfamiliar but Heller accomplishes this with little trouble. It is exhilarating to see a female protagonist in this genre; as so many of these films are told from a male perspective.

It is refreshing to see a more self-determined teen female; one who actively seeks sexual a experience without being punished for doing so by priggish moral imperatives. Of course this story only makes sense set in the sexually-adventurous 70s'.

Bel Powley, whose work has mainly been in television, branches out into cinematic territory with her nuanced performance. A whiff of whimsy works its way into her role; giving her teenage plight some humorous touches. No less affecting are Alexander Skarsgard and Kristen Wiig, who are kind of antagonists in Minnie's maturation process.

I found Diary of a Teenage Girl to not only be a credible contribution to the genre but a vividly rendered drama that is impressive in its candor and willingness to not only examine a teen girl's inner life but her fantasy life as well. It is a film that refuses to make concessions to Hollywood teen drama cliches, which these days seem to involve cancer victims or futuristic dystopias. It's nice to know the age-old anxieties about sex and the emotional demands of adulthood are still the subject of some teen dramas. Thank goodness for Heller's film, which allows us to see a real teen with real-world problems before the deluge of the fall franchises The Hunger Games and The Maze Runner distract us with their over-the-top, cartoonish, melodrama.