As the Palaces Burn

Director: Don Argott

Though not new to theaters, As the Palaces Burn is a 2014 release from director Don Argott; heretofore known for standout films Last Days Here and The Art of the Steal. His latest is another foray into the world of heavy metal as we meet the band Lamb of God (not a christian-rock outfit), who are well-known to metal fans world-wide.

The first scene in the film is of lead singer Randy Blythe as he strolls the banks of a stream running through his hometown of Richmond, Virginia. He mentions how the stream often serves as a residence for the homeless and at one time, himself. As he wanders the water-side, Blythe discusses music's role in staying the clutches of jail and maybe death.

Argott's film isn't a traditional biopic; we don't get a comprehensive view of the band's history. Instead, we meet a band in one phase of its career. Lamb of God is a band that eschews all pretentiousness, the glitzy trappings of fame and are a group of guys that, given what we see, could very well be anyone's neighbor. We hear bass player John Campbell joking about driving a Prius and its lack of heavy metal glamour. Though the band is a Grammy nominee and has opened for Metallica, they retain an approachable, personable relationship with their fans.

Bandmembers weigh in on various subjects, ranging from Blythe's one-time alcohol dependency, which made him difficult to be around, to his eventual recovery and their fans, which they hold in the highest regard.

We meet a few of said devotees, including a Columbian taxi driver living a hardscrabble life in Bogota. We learn members of his family ill-advisedly joined Pablo Escobar's drug syndicate, only to die violently. This tragedy in the young man's life and his suffering is mitigated by Lamb of God's music; a source of inspiration and a means to dispel aggression. The same applies to another fan in India, a female supporter who suffers much scorn for her passion from a community whose rigid codes of behaviour permit women little freedom. We also hear from other Indian fans, many who have driven from great distances to see the band.

The band's identity is deftly and economically conveyed in little screen time. And just as one grows comfortable with the idea that we are viewing a conventional documentary portrait, the film morphs into something else. While on the 2012 tour, Lamb of God's stop in Prague was marred by the arrest of Randy Blythe for the alleged death of a fan during the band's 2010 tour. Unaware of the fan's death or the manslaughter charge during the intervening two years, Blythe and the band are flabbergasted. Blythe is arrested and held without bail. The tour is cut short while the band returns home to rally legal counsel--American and Czech, which incurs a considerable expense. The crisis strengthens the band's bond and resolve, as the members auction off gear and memorabilia to fund Blythe's defense.

The film's focus shifts to the case and how the band handles the adversity. As lawyers build his defense, we see video footage believed to be of the deceased fan at the concert which could have exonerated Blythe but another fan comes forward to identify himself as the subject of the video. Blythe says later he could have avoided the trial altogether, returning home without facing extradition but he chooses to face possible punitive measures and ultimately the victim's family.

The violence that reigns at Lamb of God shows and most heavy metal concerts in the way of mosh pits and head-banging is laid bare but we see in the video footage that Blythe merely assisted the security guard in pushing the fan back into the audience after he had climbed onstage. What looks like typical heavy metal fan mayhem takes a tragic turn when the fan injures himself then slips into a coma before dying a few days later.

The harrowing drama surrounding the trial and the emotional devastation it wreaks on Randy Blythe and the band effectively deglamourizes the rock-and-roll life many would rather see as romantic. Of course someone not a fan of heavy metal might draw the erroneous conclusion that injuries and death are common at concerts, when nothing could be further from the truth.

I liked Argott's film and came away impressed with the band and band-members. Their solidarity in the face of adversity, their concern for fan's welfare, their articulacy and inviolable integrity are all apparent. If the film has any flaw its lack of actual music. Brief concert clips and a few scenes with the bandmembers tooling around on their instruments are pretty much all we're allowed to hear. It may not have occurred to Argott that not everyone viewing the movie will be familiar with the music. I myself had only a passing knowledge of the band. The manslaughter trial is certainly a valid narrative approach but I would like to know something about the music that helped change Blythe's (and maybe the other bandmember's) lives. Argott's film comes dangerously close to becoming a VH-1 Behind the Music episode; a show famous for fetishizing band tragedies. But it doesn't.

As the Palaces Burn is definitely worth a viewing. It has energy, volcanic spirit and dark moments, both sad and tragic. One might come away a fan of Lamb of God; wanting more of their music. I myself am intrigued.

Third Person

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Paul Haggis/Starring: Liam Neeson, Olivia Wilde, Adrian Brody, Mila Kunis, James Franco, Maria Bello, Kim Basinger, Loan Chabanol and Moran Atias

I wasn't a fan of Haggis' Oscar-winning film Crash; I found it overrated, over-cooked and underwritten and I have to say I had the same reaction to Third Person. Both boast show-offy multiple character plots which occasionally intersect but seem forced and often phony. His new film has an impressive cast and exciting locations: Rome, Paris and New York. Beautiful people in beautiful locations. Should be enough, right?

Liam Neeson plays Michael, a Pulitzer-prize winning author who is having an affair with a beautiful, younger woman named Anna (Olivia Wilde) who is both repelled by and attracted to the writer. As a writer herself, her interest in Michael isn't relegated to romance; she also seeks his authorial approbation, which he is reluctant to give after reading a short story she has submitted to him. Meanwhile, Michael is estranged from his wife Elaine (Kim Basinger) though he talks to her almost daily. She is well-aware of his affair with Anna but refuses to abandoned the marriage.

Another story is set in Rome, where a shady businessman Scott (Adrian Brody) steals fashion designs from top Italian designers for knock-offs manufactured in sweat-shops. He becomes involved with a gypsy woman (a culture known more appropriately as Roma) named Monika (Moran Atias), whose daughter is being held by Romanians. To get her daughter back, she must come up with 5,000 euros or risk her 8 year-old becoming a prostitute. Scott offers to help and in doing so, becomes hopelessly entangled in the dangerous effort to recover her daughter. As the story develops, it becomes increasingly clear Scott may be the target of an elaborate scam though he has fallen in love with Monika.

In yet another story, Mila Kunis' Julia is battling James Franco's Rick for visitation rights for her son, whose life she unintentionally imperiled when she demonstrated how he could possibly suffocate playing with a sleeping-bag. Though Rick is adamant about Julia not seeing the boy, Rick's girlfriend Sam sympathizes with the mother and eventually aids in her attempt to see him. Julia is her own worst enemy, as she can't hold a job for any period of time and is generally a mess. Assisting her legally is Theresa (Maria Bello); a tough, pragmatic lawyer who has little patience for Julia's irresponsibility.

You know Haggis will somehow have the various storylines and characters mingle in many contrived, unnatural ways. When Julia, working as a maid, scribbles an important address of where she is to meet her lawyer and Rick for a custody hearing, she accidentally leaves the paper in the hotel room, which just happens to be Michael's. He uses the same paper to write down his wife's phone number, which falls into Anna's hands then ultimately, back into Julia's later. Haggis works hard to make all this seem seamless, but like Crash, it screams overwrought plotting.

It also becomes strange when we know Julia is working in the Parisian hotel where Michael and Anna are keeping rooms though her custody hearing is in New York. This isn't a filmmaker's embarassing flub but another plot device too clever for its own good. How she can be in two places at once becomes clear later in the film, as does the other oddities in the story. What also is brought to light is why the stories all share a common theme of children in extremis.

It is Michael and Anna's story that serves as the sun in this solar system. Michael's head-games, in which Anna is a willing participant, begin to grow tiresome as the two lovers are on again, off again while his wife pleads for his return. We also learn Anna has been hiding a secret; one that offers a cliched explanation as to why she prefers older men like Michael. It comes off as cheap Freudian fallback and is an eye-roller.

Eventually everything and everyone is absorbed in the denouement which is one more Haggis-ism I couldn't endure. I guess I give him points for the attempt.

Because the stories are labored, many of the actor's performances appear over-boiled, but the the final scenes may explain that as well. Noone in the cast comes off as all that sincere though they try hard to sell their characters. Neeson, a very skilled actor, has trouble playing a convincing writer. Though his publisher informs him the quality of his writing has declined and finds his latest work unpublishable, he writes a chapter of new novel, which shamelessly co-opts his lover's personal life as content. This is all fine and good, but Michael's prose is so hackneyed, it couldn't even pose a qualitative challenge to Judith Krantz, though his publisher doesn't seem to notice.

I think Haggis would like to manage the multiple character/storylines with the skill, precision and power Altman once did in films like Nashville or Short Cuts. Unfortunately he lacks that directors unerring instinct for character and plausible, multiple plot streams.

When everything wrapped and the credits scrolled, I left the theater thinking how stunning Olivia Wilde looked, then I thought about what I needed from the A&P.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Matt Reeves/Starring: Andy Serkis, Gary Oldman, Jason Clarke, Keri Russell and Judy Greer

Director Matt Reeves, of Cloverfield fame, captains the latest Planet of the Apes installment, which is set some years in the future. A monkey virus has wiped out a chunk of the world population while the self-emancipated apes from Rise of the Planet of the Apes thrive and multiply.

We see the ape community in their arboreal village, somewhere outside San Francisco, hunting as a pack and establishing their species quite nicely. Caesar (Andy Serkis), the ape's charismatic leader, lives in his own tree condo with his wife Cornelia (Judy Greer) and son. The familial unit has added a baby brother, so all seems well.

Though the apes live harmoniously in the forest, human struggle to survive in the virus-ravaged city. The uneasy peace that exists between the species is upheld more by a lack of contact than a negotiated pact.

The state of relations becomes complicated when the apes happen upon humans in the forest, which rouses the hairier primates into a frenzy. Wary of the humans, Caesar forcefully commands them to "Go," which reveals tha ape's aptitude for human speech. Frightened, the humans return to the city of San Francisco, which has been largely reclaimed by nature; with vines choking nearly every surface. Living without power, the humans hatch a plan to reboot it, which involves returning to the ape-infested, ape-controlled forest to locate the generator.

Meanwhile, a rogue ape named Koba, who despises the humans, hatches a plan of his own to depose Caesar and launch an assault on the humans. Koba finds a pretext, which involves shooting Caesar with a gun recently-acquired from the humans then strategically abandoning it. When the apes look for the culprit, they see the gun and assume the humans are the aggressors. Believing Caesar to be dead after the fall from his tree, the apes follow Koba as they lay seige to the city. They quickly gain ingress, eliminating every human they find.

The humans are led by Malcolm, Caesar's counterpart, who is eager to maintain peace at all costs though he finds the humans almost inevitably drawn into an armed conflict with the apes.

Violence and death ensue as Koba and the apes overwhelm the humans, driving them further into the city's recesses. What follows is not just a humans vs apes conflict but Caesar's struggle to restore his leadership

I could never understand the appeal of the Rise of the Planet of the Apes, which boasted impressive ape CGI but was really Hollywood's ploy to establish a franchise that movie-execs won't let die. The Charlton Heston movie spawned several film iterations and a 70s' T.V. series, but somehow Hollywood feels we need more. Tim Burton's wretched re-make of the original should have discouraged any further plans for resurrection but here we are again. Rise wasn't bad but left me yawning, just as Dawn has.

Though Dawn of the Planet of the Apes has something to say about something, I'm hard-pressed to know what the hell it is. In one scene Caesar, upon reflection, realizes the apes and humans have much in common. I thought, is this all you want to convey? Does this serve as the film's pearly-wisdom? And did it take 130 minutes of screentime and my twelve bucks to articulate that?

The performances are fine and the CGI-rendered simians are done well, but there is nary a plot development that can't be anticipated within the first 15 minutes. I thought San Francisco looked particularly good as a re-imagined nature-reclamation, but I've grown fatigued with post-apocalyptic, on-screen depictions of roadways clogged with cars and urban, structural atrophy. If Hollywood summer films aren't busy visiting Biblical destruction on cities, they're busy showing us New York or Paris or San Francisco as de-populated, decayed, concrete mausoleums.

Ten years ago, the now classic Napoleon Dynamite was released late Summer with a budget of $400,000. It was hilarious, offbeat, original and unforgettable with now-iconic characters. Dawn of the Planet of the Apes has an Olympian budget of $170 million and apart from some cool visuals, has little else to recommend it. Somehow Hollywood never learns the crucial lessons. I don't know if anyone has ever crunched the numbers, but what the industry spends on Summer blockbusters must exceed the budgets of some third-world nations.

I'm fine with apes taking over. If they ever wrest control of the movie studios from the dull-witted committees overseeing productions, we might finally have a Planet of the Apes story I might be eager to see.

I propose the next film--already in pre-production--be titled After-Dawn but Just Before Mid-Morning and Noon Though Late-Afternoon Isn't Out of Question of the Planet of The Apes.
Yeah, I might pay to see that.

Calvary

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: John Michael McDonagh/Starring: Brendan Gleeson, Chris O'Dowd, Kelly Reilly and M. Emmet Walsh

John Michael McDonagh follows up his irresistable The Guard with a darker, more dramatic film that is provocative and ultimately tragic. The exploration of morality and the Catholic church's struggle to stay relevant are the film's more salient concerns. It is a film that leaves you breathless and silently reflective with its power and its willingness to portray the church critically. It is also brave enough to examine the contradictions and incomprehensibilities of God and the Church and how both often fail to address both mundane and deeper issues that trouble those seeking psychic or spiritual succor.

The film wastes little time thrusting us into the story. Father James Lavelle (a superb Brendan Gleeson) is a priest in a small, Irish seaside town who receives a death threat during a confession. The confessor first reveals how he had been orally and anally raped repeatedly by a priest in his youth; a shocking confession which Father Lavelle is ill-prepared to hear. The confessor asks that the Father meet him on a beach in a week, at which time he will kill him. Father Lavelle doesn't panic or become hysterical but receives the threat calmly.

Lavelle eventually seeks advice from his superior; Bishop Montgomery, whose casual reaction is almost funny. The Bishop essentially leaves the matter to Lavelle's discretion. Though Lavelle tells the chief of police he is aware of the confessor's identity, it remains a mystery to us.

We meet the townsfolk who see Lavelle on a regular basis; some seeking advice or counsel while others seek absolution for crimes or thoughts of suicide.

Among those Lavelle hears out or dispenses advice to in his daily encounters are an aging American writer (M. Emmet Walsh), a young man with a feeble romantic life, a promiscuous woman named Veronica (Orla O'Rourke) who was recently abused by either her husband Jack (Chris O' Dowd) or by her lover Simon (Isaach De Bankole). Another is a wealthy, cynical, amoral man whose wife and kids have left him, a doctor who has little patience or tolerance for Lavelle's faith or the church, a foreign woman whose husband is killed in a local traffic accident, and an incarcerated serial killer whose insincere pleas for absolution anger Lavelle. Lavelle also contends with a young hustler who offers his services indiscriminately, a fellow priest whose lack of passion and integrity elicits an angry rebuke from Lavelle and his daughter Fiona, who has just recently attempted suicide.

It is important to itemize the characters, because each has a unique relationship with Father Lavelle, with varying degrees of suspicion, contempt, cynicism, or trust. It is fascinating to see how low the Catholic church has sunk in most people's estimation and how little respect is accorded priests. Lavelle's committment to his faith is undeniable. His love and concern for those who seek his help is also without question but he is constantly the target of derision by most of the town.

As the days are counted off--with subtitles--to the fateful meeting, we see that almost any of the townspeople, save the women, could conceivably be the Confessor.

It would be reductive to interpret the film as anti-catholic. The film doesn't condemn the church but it doesn't spare it scorn and biting criticism (all justified) either. It also doesn't withhold bewilderment of how God can forsake his creations in horrific ways. In one scene where Lavelle sits in the local pub, the local doctor (Aidan Gillen) approaches his table to tell the Father about a three-year old boy who was once improperly anesthetized, which rendered the child deaf, dumb and paralyzed. The doctor asks Father Lavelle to imagine how frightening it must have been for the child to wake in a prison where he felt abandoned. Why the doctor would share such a horrific story perplexes the Father but it underscores how religion and the church ineffectively explain why a loving and merciful God could permit such a tragedy.

As the day approaches, Father Lavelle becomes the target of harrassment and violence. Someone burns the church to the ground though the townsfolk seem to be blithely unconcerned. Another grisly act is committed during the week; with culpability pointing to the Confessor but the film effectively blurs the distinction between those with a solid motive and those without.

We see that Father Lavelle's spiritual ministrations have a profound effect on some while others remain disdainful or suspicious. Every character's story is moving in its own way and how Father Lavelle contends with each not only demonstrates his versatility for dealing with an array of problems, but his capacity to suffer scorn and ridicule. He is a Christ-figure, to be sure; and his imminent meeting with the Confessor is his Calvary. The murder threat and the town's hostility are spiritual tests of sorts; trials that challenge his capacity to be compassionate and loving. That he has had his own troubled past with drink and neglecting his daughter makes his spiritual resolve all the more compelling.

McDonagh's camera work is striking. Stunning landscapes, captured in long shot and in slow moving aerial shots, coupled with subtle interior compositions, make for startling visual contrasts.

The numerous shots of the surrounding landscape, all visually arresting, present a kind of Biblical Eden where the storm and stresses of the character's lives play out. I liked the way McDonagh composed the actors; sometimes slightly off-center, near the frames periphery, which lent backgrounds and colors accentuation. We also see the same with outdoor cinematography, where faces and people share screen-space with the sea or a landscape.

Though the supporting cast is outstanding, it is Gleeson's exceptional presence around which everything and everyone seems to orbit. He wears his flaws and virtues and his unshakeable morality and integrity as he does his black, priestly vestments. The performance is astounding, one that will no doubt remain prominent when the year-end critical encomiums are lavishly showered on award nominees.

Calvary is something to see. It is a powerful, sometimes disturbing but achingly beautiful film that renders one thoughtfully silent but also exhilarated. It isn't often one gets to feel that way after a film.

Deliver Us From Evil

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Scott Derrickson/Starring: Eric Bana, Edgar Ramirez and Olivia Munn

Based on former NYPD officer Ralph Sarchie's book Beware the Night, Derrickson's film portrays Sarchie's experience with demonic possession while serving on the force. The always likeable Eric Bana plays Sarchie while a buff-looking Joel McHale plays his knife-wielding sidekick Butler. I'm more than a little weary of Based On horror flicks where we're supposed to believe the film subject's encounters have at least a whiff of reality behind them. Of course the director has no obligation to traffic in facts but it always seems a bit unfair to claim authenticity then play fast and loose with reality. No matter; it's always best to turn off one's skepticism and enjoy (if the filmmakers allow it). After-all, why do horror films need to be connected to real life events to be thrilling or scary? I think you get my point.

While Sarchie and Butler make the rounds, they are called to investigate a disturbing incident at the Bronx Zoo, where a mother has thrown her two-year old into the lion's pit. When they arrive, they learn the child was hospitalized and deemed in good condition but the mother; a highly-unstable-looking and tattered mess, sits on a park bench, awaiting questioning. When Sarchie tries to question her, she mutters the lyrics to the Doors song, Break on Through, though not with Jim Morrison's urgency. The woman becomes violent, biting Sarchie on the arm. While dealing with his injury, Sarchie and his fellow officers also see a shadowy figure inside the Lion's den who doesn't respond to repeated calls. When Sarchie gains access to the den to question the individual, he slips into the darkness. As he follows said person into the lion's inner-den, he comes face to face with two lions and narrowly escapes an attack.

The strange incident leads to a related-child abuse call which involves a man who seems to be connected to the Bronx Zoo incident. Later, Sarchie discovers the Zoo suspect and two other men were Iraq War veterans who now work as painters for the Zoo suspect's business. The leader of the outfit was on a painting job at the Zoo at the time of Sarchie's investigation. As Sarchie hunts down the leader, he meets a priest in plain clothes named Mendoza who believes the officer is on the trail of something sinister. Sarchie scoffs at talk of exorcisms and spirits but as the investigation unfolds, he begins to see the case does indeed involve a malevolent spirit; one the soldiers accidentally set free when entering a secret cave in Iraq.

The scares are very few and the stories and characters all have a patina of tiredness about them. I was more interested and impatient to learn what the soldiers actually encountered--expository information held from the audience until later in the film. Unfortunately it seems a little anti-climactic when it is revealed.

As brilliant as Friedkin's The Exorcist was and is, it has cursed every horror film dealing with demons and demonic possession ever since. A movie can't be made about the subject without tripping over Friedkin's film. Deliver Us From Evil even begins in Iraq, as The Exorcist did. Seemingly obligatory scenes where people speak in voices not their own, hiss and wear cuts and lesions on their bodies have all been done to bloody death. Why do demons bother possessing the bodies of inconsequential people? Why don't they ever inhabit the bodies of presidents and prime-ministers? One would think Satan and his minions would have a more pressing agenda than pestering a painting company. If the nether-world has time to kill, why not menace Starbucks' baristas or that annoying woman in the ads for Progressive Insurance?

As Mendoza and Sarchie get closer to the center of the mystery, the officer's wife and daughter become a target of the demonic painting company (I hate when that happens). The case then becomes personal for Sarchie as he desperately tries to find where the suspects are holding his family. The story culminates in a spirited (forgive the expression) exorcism, in which Sarchie and Mendoza hope to get the possessed group leader to reveal his wife and daughter's whereabouts; conducting the ritual inside a police interrogation room--a very implausible development but for the movie, kind of fun. The actual exorcism is the highlight of the film and very intense though not exactly scary. The same can be said for the rest of the movie. I found myself trying-not-very-hard to squelch yawns throughout much of the film. Maybe its exorcism-fatigue. I feel I've seen so many in the past decade I could conduct one myself.

Ancient Latin/Syrian writings found in the Iraqi cave are later explained as doors which evil entities can use to enter our world. The demonic group leaves said writings in various areas in the Bronx then paint over them to conceal the doors. One can see now why The Doors music was either mentioned or appeared on the soundtrack. This recalls the Denzel Washington movie Fallen where every spirit-infested individual sings the Stones' Time is on My Side. Didn't think I'd remember where you got the idea, eh Derrickson? I guess the damned have a thing for The Doors. I guess I'm one of them.

Eric Bana is good, as is his convincing Bronx accent, and the movie is far from campy but it just left me bored, bored, bored. Derrickson has dealt with demonic possession before in The Exorcism of Emily Rose so he's no stranger to the subject. He is deft at creating mood and providing a few (very few) frights but adapting a story that purports to be authentically supernatural isn't a free toll to chills and thrills. I stepped out into the multiplex lobby afterward, emerging not from a terrifying experience, but grateful the demon menacing Sarchie wouldn't see my glazed eyes and droopy eye-lids. Maybe I'll see him at Starbucks.

Al's Omniflick Spotlight: 1964

To celebrate my 75th posting (as I did for my 50th), I thought it would be fun to break from the ferocious flow of current cinema releases and focus on someone or some period or something else that demands our attention--and memory. Why not turn the clock back 50 years to 1964 to recall some gems from an extraordinary year in movies? I've chosen some films I thought significant (and of course like) but deliberately (and regretfully) left some films off the list. My selection should in no way be interpreted as the BEST of 1964 but merely a cross-section. Feel free to comment on my choices and add your own. I've listed them randomly so please do not read the list as a ranking. Hope you enjoy the list and I also hope it inspires you to revisit some or all of the films.

Ten from Sixty-Four:


1. Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

Kubrick's film isn't only funny but highly representative of the period's atomic bomb angst and the Cold War U.S./USSR internecine strife. Peter Sellers chameleon-like brilliance, George C. Scott's hilarious turn as General "Buck" Turgidson, and Slim Pickens bronco-busting warhead ride make Dr. Strangelove trippy and timeless fun. Kubrick's wideshot of the sparsely-lit, hyperbolic war-room is strangely beautiful and comic in an otherworldy way.

2. A Fistful of Dollars

Sergio Leone's first-in-a-trilogy western not only helped introduce spaghetti westerns to the world, but it transformed T.V. star Clint Eastwood into an international star. Ennio Morricone's score was also a musical icon of sorts and made the characteristic whistling sounds an integral part of the film and series. Though often critically vilified at the time, the spaghettis have since been copied, parodied and in Quentin Taratino's case, borrowed from. Who can resist the sight of Clint Eastwood's dusty serape and the climactic showdown involving a plate of metal armor?

3. Goldfinger

I found Goldfinger frightening when I was a kid. Seeing a murdered woman's body covered from head to toe in gold paint was not only aesthetically and criminally genius, it also reflected the methods of a scary, psychotic mind that made the killer's passion painfully clear. If that weren't enough, said fiend had an equally-frightening sidekick named Odd Job who could decapitate with his bowler hat. What's not to fear? Only 007 could face such an off-the-wall villain so memorable--and nightmare-inducing.

4. A Hard Day's Night

Director Richard Lester's film was one of those perfect collaborations that wed a comic, inventive mind and a musically-gifted band with Marx Brothers-like tendencies. The Can't Buy Me Love sequence is exhilarating and visually original; Lester used crane-shots, hand-held visuals and aerial cinematography for a breath-taking, hyperkinetic scene. Can't wait to see it again on the big-screen in its 50th anniversary re-release.

5. Band of Outsiders

And what would the Sixties (and modern film) have been without Godard's groundbreaking cinematic techniques? The anarchic spirit of his film and the times is captured beautifully in black and white. The Madison sequence is still one of my favorite dance scenes in film. One of these days I should learn those steps!

6. My Fair Lady

Aside from the humorous moments and melodic numbers, there is a subtle, tragic sadness to the story. Is anyone else bothered by the fact that Eliza Doolittle's father essentially abandons her to her own devices and cares little for his daughter? Sure, he's supposed to be a loveable, indolent slob but he's also selfish and given to mooching off his struggling daughter. Nevertheless, Cukor's directorial flare for staging musical numbers and the lovely sets and costumes leave one feeling a little light-headed, inebriated and wanting to dance all night.

7. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg

Catherine Deneuve was all over the 60s'; demonstrating her acting talents in films like Repulsion and Belle de Jour, but she proved she had a lighter, more romantic side. Jacques Demy's film is France's answer to a Hollywood-dominated genre and it leaves its mark indelibly.

8. Fail Safe

Sidney Lumet's film is Dr. Strangelove's dark and frightening evil twin. With terrific performances by Henry Fonda, Walter Matthau and in his finest moment-Larry Hagman, Fail Safe remains the apotheosis of nuclear war anxiety. That Lumet could film two men locked in a room, talking on a phone, desperately trying to avert a U.S./Soviet nuclear exchange and make it riveting, speaks volumes about his talent as a director. Still a chilling film.

9. Zulu

In Michael Caine's first real feature film, he evinced the charisma and talent we've come to recognize. Director Cy Endfield's dramatization of the the Battle of Rorke's Drift, where 150 British soldiers defended a fort against 3,000+ Zulu warriors is absolutely harrowing, exciting and unforgettable.

10. Red Desert

Antonioni's searing images of Monica Vitti wandering through a Bosch-like industrial hell make for a powerful indictment of the modern world where factory-littered landscapes reduce people to the status of an ant. Terrific performances by Vitti and Richard Harris. An underrated Antonioni film.

Just a few among many other notable 1964 releases: Hitchcock's Marnie, Bunuel's Diary of a Chambermaid, Mary Poppins, The Last Man on Earth and Pasolini's The Gospel According to St. Matthew. There you have it, folks. The list is proof-positive that 1964 was an exceptional year for film and one that should be explored further. I hope you enjoyed this stray-from-the highway adventure. See you soon.

Begin Again

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: John Carney/Starring: Mark Ruffalo, Keira Knightley, Hailee Steinfeld, Mos Def, Catherine Keener, James Corden and Adam Levine

Director John Carney struck gold with Once some years back, with its charming leads and lovely, heartfelt songs. Begin Again hopes to recapture some of that magic but with a high-profile cast and a setting more American. Everything that made Once a sweet surprise is glaringly absent here as Mark Ruffalo and Keira Knightley try in vain to make what is essentially a re-worked and warmed-over version of Carney's better film hum. Unfortunately, its musical theme is mostly a thrum.

From Carney's own script is a story of a nearly washed-out, small record company executive named Dan (Ruffalo) who manages to lose his job as a partner at the label he helped found. He drinks excessively, is separated from his wife and infrequently sees his teenage daughter, who is mildly contemptuous of him whenever he arrives to pick her up. He is also broke and even involves his daughter in a drink-and-dash at a bar when he learns neither can foot the bill. Dan's pathetic, selfish and desperate nature comes through loud and clear.

Dan then meets Greta (Knightley), a singer-songwriter from London whose boyfriend Dave (Maroon 5's Adam Levine) has just broken into the music bigtime. Briefly sharing his success, she discovers an affair he's had with a record label staff member when he plays her a song that is all-too-revealing. Greta leaves Dave then seeks temporary shelter with her fellow countryman singer Steve (an amusing James Corden). After she is coaxed onstage by Steve at a local club, Greta's song meets an unreceptive audience and she leaves the stage dejected. Unbeknownst to Greta, her song manages to charm one patron--a liquored but appreciative Dan, who happens to be watching.

We first hear her perform the song, then later we see the performance from Dan's perspective. His fine-tuned musical experience allows him to hear the song with instrumental accompaniment. A piano, guitar, drums, violin and cello all play themselves; bringing a fuller, warmer sound to the composition. This segment was a nice touch; it was very musical and it gave Ruffalo's character some professional credibility.

Impressed with Greta's song, Dan approaches her afterward with an offer to record her music though he is up front about losing his job, being broke and drinking way too much. Greta is skeptical, citing her plans to return to London the next day and a natural aversion to recording her music.

The next day Greta agrees to his offer to record her music which inspires Dan to use various locations around the city rather than a studio to capture her sound. Dan also manages to find musicians hungry and eager enough to work for free. I liked the scenes where the band records in alleys, building-tops, Central Park, Chinatown and the subway. The natural settings allow Carney a natural visual palette from which to utilize the city's inherent charms and personality. The improvised locations are perfectly wed to the rag-tag group's guerilla recording tactics. Carney's directorial inventiveness comes through here and lends some color to the story.

As the recordings progress, Dan must deal with his fractured relationship with his daughter and his wife while Greta hopes to overcome her post-break-up despondence. A natural romantic bond blossoms between Dan and Greta though they resist its allure.

I wish the story had followed a less-predictable course but it seems the God of Neat Endings and Mended Loose Ends must be appeased--a filmmaker's typical pitfall--which cripples a film that occasionally strayed into interesting areas.

Catherine Keener's role as Mark Ruffalo's wife was shamefully underwritten. A fully-realized character in Keener's hands can be something wonderful, but here she behaves according to the script's dictates, which is a pity. Steinfeld can always be counted on for some quirkiness but her only vacation from her rigidly drawn character is a scene where she is invited to play guitar with the band. Ruffalo is always interesting, playing his character with ragged appeal and sprinkles of scoundrel thrown in. I'm afraid to say I found Keira Knightley spectacularly miscast. I couldn't buy her for a second as a singer/songwriter though she does have a pleasing singing voice. Even small details like the way she tentatively held her guitar made her unconvincing. Music doesn't radiate from her the way it does from say, a Joni Mitchell or a Neil Young; songwriters who play their guitars with authority and love. I'm also of the school that finds her mannerisms distracting and annoying, which makes it difficult to forget HER in her performance.

Greta's bland, generic songs also do no favors for the movie. Even with full-band accompaniment, they seem like any-song from anyone, with no real soul or passion. Even some of the CD demos Dan jettisons disgustedly from his car have more aural appeal than Greta's work.

Even though Carney may not have been conciously making Once II, I'm sure he was hoping the same spirits might be summoned for Begin Again. But among the many things that made Once irresistable was a story and characters that were so real because they essentially were. The actors wrote the songs; music so plaintive and beautiful but lived them as well. In a 2011 documentary (The Swell Season), which captured stars Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova in their post Once relationship, we see people and a romance that wasn't unlike the film. Hansard and Irglova could inhabit their characters and could write lovely, melancholy songs in Once because they were their characters. Music is as necessary and vital to them as their skin and they express this beautifully and tragically in the film.

If only Begin Again had the same poetic urgency it might have been something better than a drama plotted by a clockmaker; with gears and cogs that turn according to design but only yield the modest musical chirps of a cuckoo.