If I may add a cliche of my own, The Last Exorcism leaves no stone unturned in its attempts to cobble together as many successful horror film styles and stereotypes as it can. The remarkable thing is that the film makes something fairly interesting out of these tired old tropes, resulting in one of the more original and sure-to-be-underseen horror films to hit theaters in some time. The concept of the film and the performances that carry it out are so intriguing that the most disappointing moments may be the ones that try to scare us, but more on that later.

The movie focuses on Reverend Cotton Marcus, a man of God who, would you believe it, is having a crisis of faith. He has known for years that his sermons and the exorcisms he performs on the side are simply a means to put food on the table for his family. However, when he begins hearing reports of accidental deaths during aggressive exorcism rituals, he decides to put an end to this charade. In the process, Marcus starts to wonder if God himself is a charade.

Actors Patrick Fabian and Ashley Bell during the ''second-to-last'' exorcism

This entire setup is carried out in the film’s first act, its strongest. We learn that Marcus has hired a documentary team to film his last exorcism, so that he can expose all the fakery and showmanship that lead people to believe they have actually been through a demon-purging. This is actually a smart explanation for the documentary style that Stamm has chosen for the film, and it makes possible the first act’s charming lightheartedness that benefits from Patrick Fabian’s fine performance as Reverend Marcus.

We’ve seen movie preachers with a very real, fanatical belief in God, and we’ve seen snake oil salesmen out to make a buck from the easily deceived. But Fabian convincingly portrays a man who falls somewhere in the middle: he sincerely believes in God (or did once) but is also willing to admit that the spiritual fireworks he sets off every Sunday in chapel have nothing to do with the Holy Spirit. He’s a decent and kind spin on Burt Lancaster’s Elmer Gantry, and that’s what makes the “first exorcism” fun when it could have cruel. Marcus rigs the possessed girl Nell’s bedroom with special effects wizardry that terrifies her and her father but ultimately convinces them that a genuine exorcism has been carried out. Though we generally don’t stand for characters who bring young girls to tears, the childish grin that Marcus wears when he shows us his trick items is infectious. We share in the delight of his successful deception.

That crucifix is rigged with a...well, I'll let you find out.

However, we soon learn that the ruse has not cured Nell of her strange nocturnal behaviors, and suddenly Marcus finds that he must climb a mountain of his own creation. Having convinced Nell and her father that she really is possessed by a demon, the father is unwilling to even consider psychiatric care. At this point, Marcus is forced into a balancing act, in which he begins asking questions of the family the way a therapist might while maintaining a thin religious veneer to convince the father that he is still doing God’s work. This is one of the more interesting ways in which the script plays on conventional horror themes. In past versions of this oft-told tale, priests and psychiatrists have always fought over the fate of the possessed girl, each declaring that theirs is the right solution. In this film, the two sides are at war internally in Marcus’s own mind, as he struggles to determine how much longer he can maintain his religious lies before they do more harm to Nell than good.

These dramatic elements are the film’s greatest contributions to the continued history of the genre, blending characters from The Omen, The Exorcist, and Rosemary’s Baby into one lead role and extending the possibilities of the “home video horror” concept that The Blair Witch Project and Paranormal Activity popularized. The film’s only weakness (for some it might be a big one) is that there is nothing to match the eerily effective moment from Paranormal Activity when the girlfriend is shown standing by the bed for hours as the video fast-forwards. Although there is one particularly exciting sequence when Nell, seemingly under possession, turns the camera on and carries it around with her as she does the devil’s work in secret, Stamm mostly labors to create the sort of tired imagery we’ve seen over and over again in The Exorcism of Emily Rose, The Haunting of Molly Hartley, and so on.

Nell gets some yoga in after a long day spent painting the barn.

Nevertheless, I would say that this is a better film than those, better even than Paranormal Activity. Though it won’t recreate the shriek-filled experience of watching the latter film on opening night in a packed house, I found the audience for The Last Exorcism glued to the screen, watching intently as the intricately crafted screenplay carried us to a shockingly enjoyable conclusion. By adhering to a strong dramatic narrative in a genre that rarely bothers anymore, this film merits inclusion in the Omen and Exorcist lineage.

Once more, we here at AustinCinephile are arrogant enough to try to categorize this ever-expansive amalgam of cinematic achievements into finite lists. For this posting we’re taking it straight to the heart as we identify some of our favorite flicks from different genres. The rules are simple: pick any ten genres and identify the film most deserving of that genre’s top spot. Whether the film chosen is the most representative of that genre, a film that turned the genre completely on its head, or simply a personal favorite of the phylum is up to the individual contributor. Take a look at our selections and post your love or hate messages via comments at the end of the post. Enjoy.

DANIEL
Desperate Living (1977) – Anti-Comedy: John Waters’ third major feature is a tour-de-force, the culmination of his work as a trash film king. The story, about a community of outlaws living under the tyranny of a grotesque queen (played by Edie the Egg Lady), is one gut-busting gag after another.

The Girl Can’t Help It (1956) – Rock and Roll Comedy: Frank Tashlin was able to make fiction films look like cartoons; it didn’t hurt that he made this great film with the cartoonishy proportioned Jayne Mansfield. The film also features great rock performances, including the title song by Little Richard.

Horse Feathers (1932) – Musical Comedy:

While perhaps not the greatest Marx Brothers movie, Horse Feathers has so many great things that its parts outweigh its sum. The Brothers’ best musical numbers (“I’m Against it!” and “Everyone Says I Love You”), some of their best wordplays and gags, and the Brothers doing what they do best: messing things up.

The Jazz Singer (1927) – Almost Silent-Musical: While primarily a silent film, The Jazz Singer follows/establishes the generic conventions that would later make up the musical. The star, Al Jolson, was most definitely the greatest performer of all time, and he shines in this film with every one of his songs and dances. Blue skies, smiling at me…

The Maltese Falcon (1941) – Film Noir: Not exactly a bold choice, but why should it be? This film’s got great snappy dialogue, dead-on performances, a brilliant story, and Peter Lorre.

The Punishment of Anne aka The Image (1975) – Hardcore Pornography: Class sex auteur Radley Metzger’s ode to the Marquis de Sade stands high in the pantheon of smut, and for good reason; the alluring sex scenes are matched with a tone of danger and wickedness with an eye for good composition and editing in a place that almost reaches legitimacy.

The Shining (1980) – Art Horror: This picture is scary! Master Stanley Kubrick created a breathtaking blend of art film techniques with hair-raising tone and images, a tour de force of crazy.

The Squid and the Whale (2005) – Period Coming of Age Film: I include this in small part because I wanted to include something from the last 10 years, but mostly because this is a brilliant film with more heart than anything I’ve ever seen. The writing, directing, performances, and everything else down to even the 16mm film stock make this a must see for anyone who wants to re-assess their youth and families.

Star Wars: A New Hope (1977) – Sci-Fi Fantasy: What can I say about this film that recreates the hokey sci-fi serials of old in a way that defied convention and box-office expectations? Mos Eisley Cantina, lightsabers, the Force, the Kessel Run…this film’s got it all.

The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) – Indie Horror: This brilliant cheapie hits in all the right places while remaining subtle and restrained; no murders are depicted graphically, although we still are satisfied with women hanging on meathooks and a chainsaw wielding, mask wearing mama’s boy. An artless exercise in terror ends up creating some of the most iconic and beautiful imagery of any genre, especially Leatherface’s gorgeous chainsaw ballet of frustration at the picture’s end.

MICHAEL
Once Upon a Time in the West (1968) – Western

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) – Slasher

Yojimbo (1961) – Samurai:

I love Seven Samurai, but I have to take Yojimbo over the more iconic Seven, not because I believe Yojimbo is a superior film. Seven Samurai is one of those films that can stand against any other picture. It is an epic completed with such skill and dedication by all involved players that few films can ever hope to stand alongside it. My reason for choosing Yojimbo over Seven, then, is simply that Yojimbo’s title protagonist falls more in line with the ronin characterization that I tend to look for in my samurai leads, a convention that I feel is at the heart of the samurai genre. So, while I acknowldge that Seven Samurai is the superior picture, Yojimbo is the one that makes my list. And I think few people would argue against the genius of Yojimbo, even if it is not a Seven Samurai.

The Exorcist (1973) – Horror

Almost Famous (2000) – Coming of Age

Batman Begins (2005) – Superhero: This one was a tough one for me. I am big fan of the superhero genre picture, simply because I love superheroes. I read comics as a youngster, even collected the marvel comic cards. Today I still read comics, though in the much more prestigious guise of the “graphic novel.” And the superhero that stars in most of my graphic novels: Batman. He was my introduction to superheroes, with Tim Burton’s 1989 film and, along with the X-Men, drew me toward Fox’s superhero animated television with the still beloved and truly masterful Batman the Animated Series. It should come as no surprise, then, that a Batman picture should top my superhero genre list. My dilemma over which Batman film to choose is not, as many of you may assume, between the two Nolan installments, but rather between Nolan and Burton—garde versus the old. I love Buton’s Batman. His gothic approach, the subtle way he incorporated hand drawn animation, Nicholson’s iconic performance, the list goes on and on. This posting is the first time I am actually acknowledging my newly-declared devotion to Batman Begins. Like his Batman, Nolan has ignited superhero genre escalation. We can no longer go back to the way it was. We must look forward and prepare for what is to come.

Full Metal Jacket (1987) – War

Die Hard (1988) – Hard Body Action

Mean Girls (2004) – Girlie Flick

The Godfather (1972) / Goodfellas (1990) – Gangster: For the life of me, I just can’t rate one over the other within the consideration of the gangster genre. Both are brilliant films, masterpieces in their own rights. I consider The Godfather to be the greatest American film ever made (yes, bring on the commentary backlash) and Goodfellas to be the greatest film of one of the most respected and legendary filmmakers of our time. But, within the gangster genre, they are level. Goodfellas’s overt glamorization relies on a sense of contemporary hipness that distinguishes it from The Godfather’s classical homage to La Cosa Nostra. Each has its own unique style, it’s own themes and concerns. In the end the films are too different and ultimately too good for one to clearly establish a superiority over the other in terms of gangster criteria. Instead I must fuse them together as two sides of the same coin, the ultimate gangster double feature. But the question still hangs: if I were that programmer, in which order would I bill them?

STEPHEN
The Aviator (2004) – Historical Epic: It helps that this film takes place during my favorite time in history, when Hollywood icons were living large and brushing shoulders at fancy nightclubs in their swanky duds. Not only does it delve deeply into the fatal combination of power and paranoia that eventually overcame Howard Hughes (a career-boosting performance from Leonardo DiCaprio), but it also gives us glimpses of ancient legends as played by future legends (Jude Law-Errol Flynn, Cate Blanchett-Katherine Hepburn). Scorsese knows what it means to love movies and the people in them, and this is about as good a love letter to the cinema as we could hope for.

The Omen (1976) – Uh Oh, It’s Satan!

Superman: The Movie – Superhero:

Many will try to say that the superhero has been steadily getting better, evolving in depth and maturity from X-Men 2 to Spider-man 2 to The Dark Knight. But for my money, none of them have topped the granddaddy of the genre, Superman: The Movie, which was directed by Richard Donner (who also directed The Omen). It had an incredibly expensive cameo from Marlon Brando as well as a subtler and undoubtedly cheaper appearance by Glenn Ford, both favorite actors of mine. Toss in names like Gene Hackman and Ned Beatty and you’ve got one of the finest casts ever assembled for a superhero film surrounding what proved to be pitch-perfect casting in Christopher Reeve. People often say that an actor was born to play a certain role, but I think the saying has rarely fit better. Reeve does everything right as Superman, which is quite impressive when you realize that, even in the good superhero movies that followed, the actors playing the hero were never really that impressive (Michael Keaton? Christian Bale? Tobey Maguire?).

The Proposition (2005) – Neo-Western: What could be neo-er than taking a genre established in the frontier of America and tossing it into the 19th century outback of Australia? Unlike other American examples like Unforgiven or Open Range, which barely rattled the cage of the Western genre, The Proposition totally upended the whole thing, thanks to surreal scenes involving a muttering John Hurt and the howlingly marvelous Danny Huston as well as an unsettling and entirely unique score from Australian post-punk legend Nick Cave. There has never been a film like this one, and it truly saddens me that no one has seen it.

The Terminator (1984) – Sci-Fi

Aguirre: The Wrath of God (1972) – Biopic

The Public Enemy (1931) – Gangster Film

The Thin Man (1934) – Whodunit

Take the Money and Run (1969) – Mockumentary

Singin’ in the Rain (1952) – Musical

Dir. Nimród Antal
Alamo Drafthouse South Lamar, 7/8/2010, 7:30

[Warning: CONTAINS SPOILERS!]

Predators doesn’t waste any time getting straight into the action. Though it does not begin en media res, it surely begins “in the middle of things.” The film opens on a free falling Adrien Brody who, after waking from unconsciousness, pounds at the beeping, glowing, Iron Man-esque medallion on his chest in hopes that it will release his parachute. It does, but just barely, as the camo-clad Brody tears through thick canopy, landing with a bassy thud on the jungle floor. The film’s title card flashes across the screen: “PREDATORS.”

For those of you who are fans of the original film, you may very well enjoy this picture. It is not nearly as fleshed out in terms of plot development, as the first film. But it does deliver on plenty of key conventions of the first film. There are various scenes of violence among and between the predators and the heavily-equipped group of human badasses constantly shifting the roles of predators and prey. Predators also takes advantage of Alan Silvestri’s percussive score from the original installment, while introducing original music by John Debney that slides in seamlessly along side it. If you were able to stomach Predator 2 (1990), you should adore this latest installment, though the plot development of this sequel doesn’t even live up to the oft-denigrated first sequel.

The gang, or what’s left of them

Brody scurries to his feet, no worse for wear, after his fall. Another body soon follows, landing with a similarly hard thud, introducing the sniper rifle-toting Isabelle, played by Alice Braga. We are quickly introduced to the rest of the motley band of killers: Russian military man Nikolai (Oleg Taktarov), a throwback to Bill Duke’s Mac with his minigun and a heavy trigger finger; Danny Trejo double-fists twin Heckler & Koch MP5K’s as Cuchillo, the Mexican cartel enforcer; Mombasa (Mahershalalhashbaz Ali) is a member of a Sierra Leone death squad and favors an AKS-47; the suit-wearing Yakuza, Hanzo (Louis Ozawa Changchien), relies on the more compact Baretta; and, finally, when the bullets and pulse blasts star ripping through air and flesh alike, the death row inmate Stans unsheathes his prison shank?

Then there is Edwin, played by Topher Grace. Edwin, who claims to be a doctor, is introduced, stuck in a tree and screaming for someone to help him. He is not one of the calm, cool killers that comprise the rest of the gang. Instead, he is whiny, helpless, and unarmed. Surely there is more to Edwin than meets the eye. This is no spoiler, as anyone who knows anything about film and/or character development should be immediately suspicious of a character like Edwin. Brody’s character Royce spells it out in the first few minutes of the film when he tells Isabella that Edwin doesn’t belong.

Edwin is one of the big flaws of this film. He works as little more than a plot device, his naïveté luring the other members of the group into dangerous situations and providing a few moments of comedic levity. Of course there is a none-too-surprising revelation at the climax that shifts spectators’ understandings of Edwin. But, without revealing too much, I must simply say there is no reason for Edwin to be in this film. His plot progressing role as an initiator of danger could just have easily been serviced by the many traps laid by the predators, as it does in other parts of the film, and the minimally-armed Stans, is already positioned as a possible—even superior—comedic outlet. Edwin’s character twist near the film’s end is anticlimactic, anything but surprising, and too ephemeral to earn a place in this script.

You don’t need bulging muscles if you sport a big enough gun.

Brody, on the other hand, works well as the trim, but convincing American-born mercenary Royce. I was skeptical of the wiry actor’s abilities to fill a hard body action hero role. But Brody put on a few pounds, a hulking gun, and a jaded demeanor to transform into a fitting successor to Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Dutch. Predator fans will also be pleased with the addition of a new species of predator that avoids the rather hokey quality of the Alien/Predator hybrid created at the end of Alien vs. Predator (2004) as well as a dog-like creature the predators use to flush out their prey.

The film is not void of entertainment, though clearly there are major flaws in the forms of underdeveloped plot and characters. I hesitate to recommend this movie to the general pool of filmgoers, but fans of the franchise as well as violence-seeking, teenaged boys and girls will probably enjoy it.

One of Predators’ new predators and his dog.

Time for the weekly roundup of Weird Wednesday, Terror Tuesday, special events and outstanding new releases that you will not want to miss this week. Only the best selections here, aiming to ensure you see at least one great film every day.

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday 7/5, 7/6, and 7/7
Alamo Ritz – CROPSEY
Like a real-life Blair Witch Project, this documentary focuses on an urban legend about a boogeyman-esque escaped psychopath who kidnapped and murdered children. Unlike Blair Witch, there genuinely was a mentally disturbed man who was arrested for the deaths of three children, all of whom had mental disabilities themselves. The problem was, this man was convicted without much in the way of conclusive evidence, so the filmmakers explore the case that was made against the suspect and the mysterious Willowbrook campus, an abandoned mental institution where many of the crimes, and satanic rituals, were supposed to have taken place. All sounds too crazy to be true. Isn’t it?

Tuesday 7/6, 7:00pm
The Paramount – Douglas Sirk Double Feature: ALL THAT HEAVEN ALLOWS and IMITATION OF LIFE
At first glance, these Technicolor confections from Douglas Sirk might seem outdated; the participation of such 50s luminaries as Rock Hudson and Sandra Dee certainly won’t ease those concerns. And yet, with each generation, these films continue to gain a strong fan following among film scholars and moviegoers alike. Why? Sirk was a master of the melodrama, a genre of storytelling that will never age as long people have the capacity to cry a little. The women in these films are confronted with problems that may sound like the stuff of daytime soaps, but Sirk and his crew elevate the material through their ingenious use of lighting and framing, isolating these characters both literally and visually. The Paramount will be handing out free Kleenex tissues for a reason.

Wednesday 7/7, 11:55pm
Alamo Ritz – Weird Wednesday: GONE WITH THE POPE
Frequent attendees of Weird Wednesday will probably remember the trailer for MASSACRE MAFIA STYLE. Well, the director of that film made another, which was once thought lost. The Alamo has found it, though, and director Duke Mitchell’s can now be seen by an audience! We saw the trailer for it last week, and it looks like a lot of fun. With a premise that features a con man who kidnaps the pope and demands one dollar from every single Catholic in the world, how can you go wrong?

Friday 7/2-Thursday 7/8
Regal Arbor – I AM LOVE
Starring the striking Tilda Swinton and featuring the music of one of the great contemporary composers John Adams, this film promises to be a real treat for two of the five senses. I think the trailer gets that point across.

What makes a horrible film?

So, this is Austin Cinephile, a place for the collection of essays about cinema love, not cinema hate. Negatively isn’t exactly what we’re aiming for. That said, love and hate are often intimately intertwined (just ask my ex-wife), and one cannot experience one without the other. Daniel once wrote, in his now-famous Lord Love a Duck review, that “You’ve got to constantly watch bad cinema in order to truly understand good cinema.” This is an important thing to keep in mind.

Further, great cinema is a pursuit, an adventure that is often wrought with mediocrities along the way. We must all see bad film as the plague that it is, and be able to move past it in order to find the gems of the screen.

This week, we explore what characteristics, energies, and events lead to uninspiring cinema.

Daniel

What makes a movie horrible? The absence of ambition! Lack of soul! Uninspired participation! A movie is bad if the people involved are not wholly committed to the cinema as an institution which must constantly be built up and torn down. A movie is rotten if the actors are concerned with themselves and their performances, if the producers are trying to make a derivative work, or if the director hasn’t seen any Renoir films.

Reject bad cinema. Discredit those who espouse the virtue of a film that is anything less than brilliant. The creative spirit should be embraced above all else. Encourage experimentation and expression. Shun mediocrity.

The effect of a horrible film is emptiness. There is no list of techniques for a bad or good film. Only ideas! Only heart! Bad cinema takes us nowhere, it contributes nothing, and it should be stomped out.

Michael

I can’t say I’m pleased with this prompt. The question is just so large and nonspecific that to attempt to answer it would result in answers just as unwieldy, over generalized, and surely dull. A horrible movie is a movie with a bad script? With bad acting? Poor direction? Dull cinematography? Horrible sound? All of the above? As film critics it is our job to examine cinema, to assess what works and what doesn’t. But this job is executed on a film-by-film basis. What works in one film might fail horribly in another and vise versa. There are no steadfast rules for what makes a great film or a horrible one. That is the beauty of cinema. There is a near infinite number of techniques for all aspects of the production process just waiting to be arranged in interesting and effective ways. And maybe therein lies my broad, overgeneralized, nondescript answer. Good movies are those that utilize the tools of cinema, employing them in effective ways and with inspiring results. Horrible films do not do this. They either underuse their tools or apply them in uncreative ways.

Steph

My roommate and I recently watched (me for the third time, her for the first) New Moon. During our viewing, I realized that I am the Paula Abdul of film critics. I want to award way too many points for effort, and it’s difficult for me to write off a film as “horrible” if I can find even just one or two elements I enjoyed. I wouldn’t call New Moon horrible, for example, because I think its cinematography has some really lovely moments, some of its supporting actors are quite good (Michael Sheen’s role gets better every time I watch it), and Alexandre Desplat’s score is sublime. Unsurprisingly, then, if I were to make a list of films I consider horrible, it would be a relatively short list.

However, for the purpose of this exercise, I want to focus on a very subjective element of film viewing that often affects our opinions more than I think we realize: our expectations. It is nearly impossible to watch a film without them. Perhaps you’ve read the novel the filmmaker is adapting; perhaps you read a review or heard two people talking about it on the subway; perhaps you’re familiar with one of the actors or the director. Even a knowledge of the cinematic calendar (brainless blockbusters in the summer, award-bait in the winter) can influence your expectations as you walk into that cool, dark space.

I often have a hard time judging movies to be terrible if they exceed my low expectations. A few years ago a co-worker of mine at the independent video store where I work recommended that I see a film called Dedication. Mandy Moore featured prominently on the DVD cover, and since it had gone straight to DVD, I didn’t have high hopes. However, I was pleasantly surprised by Billy Crudup’s performance and some of the unusually phrased dialogue, and I found myself liking the film more than it probably deserved, objectively speaking.

Of course, the inverse of my expectation hypothesis also holds true. If my high expectations for a film are disappointed, my opinion is often harsher than the film deserves. I was so unexpectedly delighted by Iron Man that I went eagerly into the theater for its sequel. I suppose what I saw was adequate. Robert Downey Jr. seemed to be having fun, and he’s a magnetic enough presence that I wasn’t bored. But I wanted fireworks and instead I got noise, and I left the theater discontented and glad I hadn’t paid for my ticket.

Are audience expectations and the extent to which they influence our opinions fair? Perhaps not. Filmmaking is a complicated art. A film is created and shaped by so many different people that writing off an entire film as terrible seems simplistic. And yet terrible films exist, and they are sometimes produced by brilliant filmmakers. Instead of being dismayed, maybe we should be relieved. Perfection is a lot to expect of anyone, and if we can forgive our filmmakers their flops, perhaps we can also let ourselves off the hook every now and again.

Stephen

In general, a horrible film is one in which art is entirely sacrificed at the altar of commerce. Consider the most recent target of critical vitriol: the action-romantic comedy. Films such as The Bounty Hunter, Killers, and Knight and Day are not bad simply because the dialogue is pedestrian, the actors uninterested and uninteresting, and the directing nonexistent, but because the very genre and its structure seem to be the calculated result of audience testing and demographic polling.

It is as if we now have films written, directed, and produced by the marketing departments of the major studios, scattershot contrivances with a few explosions here and some supposedly witty repartee there, meant to be enjoyed by men and women of all ages. This is the cynical mood prevailing in the film industry today. No one can afford to make a film for a specific audience, to take a risk on a film that seems unmarketable to all but a few select groups of moviegoers. Thus, we are given horrible films, films that please everyone but challenge and inspire no one.

However, only a naif would argue that the filmmaking process must always and only be motivated by aesthetics; the film industry has been carefully balanced between beauty and greed since its earliest days. Attention must be paid to those horrible films that exist on the other end of the spectrum from profit-driven drivel, which result from the failure of executives and producers to step in and stop an enthusiastic but misguided director from running a film into the ground. We call these films self-indulgent. For a recent example, one need look no further than Jim Jarmusch’s The Limits of Control, which played like an inside joke between the director, Tilda Swinton, and about three other people. Here, Jarmusch tried to sell a meandering film with no narrative thrust and what can only be called character anti-development by tossing in some faux-philosophical notions and a few meditation scenes. I, for one, wasn’t buying it.

Of course, this brings us to the one advantage self-indulgence has over commercial indifference. My co-writer Daniel Metz happened to love The Limits of Control; all the things that did not work for me worked quite well for him. Therefore, I would argue that, while an agreement can usually be made about horrible mainstream schlock, self-indulgent films are often treasured by some and hated by others. I loved Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain, but pretty much everyone else said it was self-indulgent rubbish. This points to the ultimate difficulty of this week’s question: if a few people swear by an artistically ambitious film and defend it all costs, does that automatically exclude it from being as “horrible” as those commercial films? All I know is this: Daniel thought The Limits of Control was one of the ten best films of last year, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t horrible.

Time for the weekly roundup of Weird Wednesday, Terror Tuesday, special events and outstanding new releases that you will not want to miss this week. Only the best selections here, aiming to ensure you see at least one great film every day.

Saturday-Sunday 6/26-6/27, 12:00pm
Alamo Ritz – ROCCO AND HIS BROTHERS
Daniel and Stephen recently enjoyed this 1960 Italian masterpiece in a course we took at the University of Texas. Operatic is a word often used to describe this nearly three-hour-long epic melodrama about a family who leaves poverty-stricken Southern Italy behind to seek prosperity in bustling Milan. However, as the brothers each begin to go their separate ways in order to fulfill their individual desires, the family bond is strained, a recurring theme among postwar Italian films of which this is one of the absolute best.

Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday 6/28,6/29, and 6/30, 7:00pm
Alamo Ritz – TRASH HUMPERS
If the name Harmony Korine means anything to you, or if you’ve seen the posters for this film in the Alamo lobbies, chances are you are already in line to see this strange and unique bit of cinema. I’ve seen the trailer and honestly can’t tell you what the film is about. Maybe you can tell me:

Tuesday 6/29, 9:30pm
Alamo Ritz – Terror Tuesday: PSYCHO II
Ok, so this second volume of the Psycho saga is not as good as Hitchcock’s original, but then there are maybe only four or five films that are. Nevertheless, Psycho II is an amazing film in its own right, helped immensely by the return of motel proprietor Norman Bates and, more importantly, of the actor who originated the character, Anthony Perkins. I can pretty much guarantee you that, if you find yourself watching a movie with Anthony Perkins in it, you are in the right place (I mean, have you seen Pretty Poison or Play It As It Lays?). If you haven’t seen this before because you remember what The Omen II or The Exorcist II was like, I think you’ll be in for a really happy surprise this time around.

Wednesday 6/30, 9:30pm, NEW RELEASE OF THE WEEK
Alamo Ritz – FINAL FLESH w/ Vernon Chatman in person
Vernon Chatman, one of the people responsible for Wonder Showzen, discovered four porn studios that make custom films specifically tailored to the customer’s kinky desires. He took this opportunity to convince these studios to produce scripts of his that really are not pornographic films at all, but interesting thought experiments delivered by actors and filmmakers who would seemingly be ill-equipped talent-wise for this kind of concept, which is the very reason why the films accomplish their goal in the end. Should be an intriguing night at the cinema, and Chatman himself will be there to answer the many questions that are sure to arise.

Wednesday-Thursday 6/30-7/1, CLASSIC RELEASE OF THE WEEK
The Paramount – Double Feature: FREAKS and THE DEVIL-DOLL
If you haven’t seen Freaks, boy are you in for it. You might think, oh it’s a film from 1932, how crazy can it be? Well, I’ll tell you: it’s crazier than anything that could possibly be released by anyone anywhere today, and it was released by MGM! If you’ve ever been hesitant to declare the 1930s as the Golden Age of Hollywood, this film will surely convince you. Every frame is surreal, and most are admittedly exploitative. Considering that you can stay and see The Devil-Doll for free, which features esteemed actor Lionel Barrymore as a human-shrinking maniac, only sweetens the deal. People walking past the Paramount this week are going to wonder what all that shrieking is about!

Friday 6/25-Thursday 7/1
wide – CYRUS
The Duplass Brothers are back with this film, utilizing more star power than all of their previous films combined. John C. Reilly, Jonah Hill, and Marisa Tomei have combined their celebrity energies (which, when put all together, add up to about one A-List star) to try and put the Duplass’s uniquely morose and nihilistic mumblecore style on the map. Though Austin Cinephile will lament the absence of this year’s best actress Greta Gerwig, as far as Daniel is concerned, anything that draws attention away from Andrew Bujalski is a good thing.

Friday 6/25-Thursday 7/1
Regal Arbor – JOAN RIVERS: A PIECE OF WORK
It’s finally here. This documentary about the ever-present comedienne Joan Rivers, which has been making loudly positive noise at festivals around the globe, seems like a knockout: the trailer alone has had audiences rolling in the aisles and forgetting what movie they were actually in the theater to see. Rivers has certainly played a self-destroying part in de-emphasizing her comic chops over the years, basically agreeing to do every red carpet show and TV Guide Channel special they invite her to do. But as this film will prove, the lady is not only a riot onstage but a deeply thoughtful and introspective human being. I can’t say what this film will do for her career, but for her public persona it should do wonders.

Friday 6/25-Thursday 7/1
Regal Arbor – SOLITARY MAN
The second must-see indie film of the week is this rich character study starring Michael Douglas in maybe the best role I’ve ever seen him play. A once prominent New York car dealer, so prominent that he was once featured in Fortune and Forbes (a car dealer!), Douglas has since been convicted of graft and fraud, which resulted in his dealerships being taken from him and his marriage ending in divorce. Following this life disaster, Douglas attempts to pick up the pieces, using his undeniable charisma to sleep with every woman he meets and to sweet talk his way back into the business. Will this sleazeball ever learn? You’ll have to check out this surprisingly well-made film to find out.

Increasingly, the discourse surrounding Pixar films suggests that they truly are “family” movies, in that they contain something for the kids and something for the adults in the audience. To a certain extent, this has been true of films like Finding Nemo and Up, which featured heroes for both the younger and older moviegoers. While the kids could associate with the young fish Nemo or the boy scout Russell, their parents might see themselves in Nemo’s worried father Marlin or Russell’s cranky neighbor Mr. Fredrickson. However, at the end of each of these films, the underlying depths of emotion provided by these older characters ultimately intersected with the more light-hearted elements directed toward children, resulting in undeniably happy conclusions. This is not the case with Toy Story 3, which actually has two concrete endings. For the kids, the film provides one of Pixar’s patently moving finales, but for the adults, the film actually ends a few scenes earlier, in an unusually stark, wholly genuine display of friendship and mortality.

The story of the film is known by anyone who has managed to get to a recent film early enough to see the trailers. Andy, the owner of Woody, Buzz, and the other toys, is shipping off to college, so what is to become of his toys? By the time they end up at a daycare named Sunnydale, allusions to the feelings of abandonment and isolation that humans encounter as they enter old age are flying at full force. The toys, at least in terms of their relationship with Andy, have hit what we generously describe as their “golden years,” and there is some debate among them as to how to handle it. While most of the toys see the daycare as a second life rather than being put out to pasture, Woody, always the most loyal toy to Andy, is unwilling to move on and desperate to make his way back to his old friend.

The sadness and desperation of old age is represented by this lovable stuffed bear. Believe it.

Thus, the film belongs to Woody, and his conflict is simple: as he enters the last years of his life (even toys have to go sometime), with whom does he want to spend his remaining days? The general thrust of the series thus far has always been the toys’ efforts to remain with Andy at all costs, but as Woody realizes over the course of this film, the bond he has formed with his fellow toys has grown stronger than any other, even the one he shares with Andy. So, in that “grown-up ending” I just mentioned, the toys find themselves facing incineration at a local landfill, and they lock hands with one another in an overwhelmingly poignant acknowledgment of the love they feel for one another. If it has come to this, at least they have one another. Although the toys ultimately escape their fate, to the delight of the kids in the audience, the adults, who are all too aware of their own mortality, know that a similar moment will eventually come for them, and the scene leaves them hoping that, when it does, they will have a few friends there with them.

I will admit that I wasn’t expecting the third film of this franchise to rival the thematic explorations of recent Pixar films like Ratatouille and Wall-E, so I must also happily admit that I was wrong to worry. Along with such inspired storytelling, the Pixar animation team shows no signs of stopping in its continued evolution of cinematic style. I came away from this film believing that there are a few people working at Pixar who could direct a feature-length live-action film tomorrow if they wanted to. The film combines the kind of adventurous camera movements associated with animation with the familiar elements of classical Hollywood style to a more successful extent than ever before, and I think it may be only a matter of time before one of these Pixar directors is considered for some of Hollywood’s many directing awards. The latest technology has allowed for a greater sense of depth than ever before, thanks not only to the new 3-D craze but also to remarkable advances in light and shadow capabilities. So this is what they meant when they started worrying about human actors being replaced.

I'm gonna miss these guys.

Next up for Pixar, reportedly, is a sequel to Cars, and I can think of no better praise for Toy Story 3 than to say that I’m going to give Pixar the benefit of the doubt and plan on Cars 2 being another masterpiece. Cars is almost universally considered to be Pixar’s weakest film, so one wonders why they would want to make a sequel. One theory could be that, every five or six years, Pixar needs to take a storytelling break and just toss out a fun little movie about talking cars. But this is a company who has left the disappointments of A Bug’s Life and Monsters Inc. far behind them (only for Pixar could those films be considered disappointments, by the way), and I can’t help but think that, somehow, they have a truly great idea for the continued adventures of those obnoxious cars.

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I am hard on the Summer months when maybe I shouldn’t be. Yes, it is the worst part of the year cinematically, with the possible exception of Spring. The saving grace of the March-to-May period is that the tiny independents that premiered during the Winter in New York or at film festivals make their way down to the rest of the country. By June, however, the bulk of this product is off the shelves, and what we’ve got left are the kind of movies that, put simply, bum me out.

But, there are some saving graces to this desert of cinema. Last summer, we had a number of good pictures come to Austin in the summer: The Girlfriend Experience, Julie & Julia, (500) Days of Summer, Away We Go, District 9, and Whatever Works were all much appreciated respites from the storm of last year’s Land of the Lost, Year One, Transformers 2, etc. The first such recess, this year’s The Girlfriend Experience if you will, was released this past weekend: Please Give.

Please Give is an excellent movie, the kind of thoughtful and insightful picture that Woody Allen used to (and still does) make. It’s subject, the lives of three and a half-generations of women in bourgie (yes, that is the right spelling) New York city, is an unusual one for the cinema, and one that pays off in spades; the characters in this picture are masterfully drawn and performed.

Mother and daughter in picture-perfect New York

One major part of this equation is the stand-out performances by everyone involved. Ensemble cast members Catherine Keener, Amanda Peet, Rebecca Hall, Ann Morgan Guilbert, Sarah Steele, and Oliver Platt are real people, going through difficult times and sometimes making bad choices.

I find it hard to single people out for this film, but I must acknowledge first of all the work of Rebecca Hall: another reference to the king nebbish, as Hall was the Vicky in Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona. I’ve been a fan of Hall’s since I saw her in that picture. At the time, my assessment of the film was solely about her:

“All credit belongs to the girl playing Vicky, an actress named Rebecca Hall. The second to last scene of the film, where she gives in to her adulterous but overwhelming desire to be with the artist Bardem, is a great and true acting tour-de-force, one of the best moments in any Woody Allen film, up there with the opening of Manhattan and the play-ending of Annie Hall.”

Just thinking of this scene gives me shivers...

Hall represents something that is really impressive: the modern girl next door. She is not the Sandra Bullock, Reese Witherspoon, or Kirsten Dunst-type, but instead something much more realistic and charmingly banal. Hall conjures up the spirit of actual women with her extra-fair (maybe even pale) skin and natural features. Her facial expressions and vocal patterns are highly controlled yet come off as unimpressive and effortless.

That is what makes the ending of Vicky Cristina Barcelona so great. When Hall is shivering and ultimately capitulates to Bardem’s Latin-Lover seduction, it is unbelievably believable. She is woman and female desire in that exchange, and I consider that scene to be one of the greatest in cinema, period, and it is 100% thanks to her (although I’m sure Woody’s marvelous direction had something to do with it).

In this film, Hall literally plays the girl next door to the couple of Keener and Platt, and she does it in a homely and humble style. Her skin here is almost pasty, and her clothing bland. Her character shines, however, with a twinkle that can only come from inner-spirit. She is truly a gem, and I hope she continues rising. She could be our next Meryl Streep.

Some of the many women of this picture

As I said, everyone else is great. The women all stand out as unique and precious beings, including the confused teenager Sarah Steele and the lonely and flawed geriatric Ann Morgan Guilbert. Catherine Keener, as always is a dream, and I anticipate Austin Cinephile will someday give her a lifetime achievement award for most underrated actress. Here, she plays guilt so well it is a surprise she is a Gentile.

That gets me to the theme of this picture, Guilt. Every character in this film is wracked with it. The film is about how guilt is such an overwhelming concern in modern New York/life, from the transvestite bums on the sidewalk to the fear of breast cancer, from single-life to infidelity, and so many shades of gray in between. Never has this subject been dealt with so exhaustively on celluloid, nor done with so much bravery. It will make you reassess how you live your life and what factors influence your choices.

And finally, I must praise director Nicole Holofcener, whose work I am unfamiliar with thus far but I now want to seek out. She is a master of the contemplative two-shot medium close-up, framing couples, friends, relatives and acquaintances with judgment and reflection. Her mise-en-scène is terrific, especially in the various shots and set-ups of the boutique thrift store that Platt and Keener run. Her costuming and make-up is outstanding and convincingly realistic, too, in the same way as Hall’s performance.

An example of the very strong two-shots by Holofcener

I insist you see this picture, which is going to be probably the best film of June, although we’ll see how Cyrus holds up next week. In a month of Prince of Persias and Knight and Days, we should be thankful for these diamonds in the rough.

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Time for the weekly roundup of Weird Wednesday, Terror Tuesday, special events and outstanding new releases that you will not want to miss this week. Only the best selections here, aiming to ensure you see at least one great film every day.

Sunday 6/20 and Wednesday 6/23, various times
Alamo Ritz – IT CAME FROM KUCHAR
Daniel has already written about this documentary that focuses on underground filmmaking brothers George and Mike Kuchar. If you are unfamiliar with their campy genre films, this doc will serve as a fine introduction, although it sounds like you may have trouble finding their work once hooked.

Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday 6/20,6/21, and 6/23, various times
Alamo Ritz – AMERICAN GRINDHOUSE
The title is pretty self explanatory. This documentary is all about exploitation films, the kind that are usually featured at the Ritz every Wednesday night for Weird Wednesday. So if you are an frequent attendee of that weekly series, or have wondered what it’s all about, this will be a good chance to do a little extracurricular learning. And learning never hurt nobody.

Wednesday 6/23, 8:00pm, CLASSIC RELEASE OF THE WEEK
The Paramount – WINGS
No, this is not the 90’s sitcom starring Steven Wright and Thomas Haden Church. This is the very first winner of the Academy Award for Best Picture, a staggering silent film about a love triangle involving a girl and two World War I fighter pilots. When you think about the fact that they hadn’t even really figured out talking pictures yet, the amazing aerial dogfight footage is even more impressive. This screening will feature a live performance of an original score by Austin Cinephile’s favorite local silent-film accompanist Graham Reynolds. You won’t get many more chances to see this on the big screen, don’t miss it!

Friday 6/18-Thursday 6/24
wide – TOY STORY 3D
The first two Toy Story films were among the greatest animated films of all time, as were most of Pixar’s first ten feature-length films. Here is number eleven, and from what I’ve heard, this is no sloppily done sequel looking to cash in on some familiar characters. Andy is now all grown up and has no need for his toys, which means it may be time for him, and us, to say farewell to Woody, Buzz, and the gang for the last time. Thus, the real reason for those 3-D glasses; no one can see me crying.

Friday 6/18-Thursday 6/24, NEW RELEASE PICK OF THE WEEK
Regal Arbor – SWEETGRASS
Do awful summer movies like The A-Team and The Prince of Persia have you down in the dumps? Well, this weekend, independent cinema is going to provide you with a few reasons to smile. The first is this breathtaking documentary, which is currently the best new film I have seen all year. The film follows two cowboys as they herd a big flock of sheep through a gorgeous series of mountains and streams in what will prove to be (Spoiler Alert!) the last of these journeys for the foreseeable future. The power of the documentary is such that you will mourn the loss of this tradition even though you were just introduced to it an hour and a half ago. There are no talking head interviews or cute animated sequences: just two cowboys, some sheep, and the countryside. It really is a rare cinematic breath of fresh air, and I think we could all use some of that.

Friday 6/18-Thursday 6/24
Regal Arbor – SOLITARY MAN
The second must-see indie film of the week is this rich character study starring Michael Douglas in maybe the best role I’ve ever seen him play. A once prominent New York car dealer, so prominent that he was once featured in Fortune and Forbes (a car dealer!), Douglas has since been convicted of graft and fraud, which resulted in his dealerships being taken from him and his marriage ending in divorce. Following this life disaster, Douglas attempts to pick up the pieces, using his undeniable charisma to sleep with every woman he meets and to sweet talk his way back into the business. Will this sleazeball ever learn? You’ll have to check out this surprisingly well-made film to find out.

On Sunday at the Ritz, Christopher Lloyd arrived at the Alamo Ritz in a DeLorean to kick off a day-long marathon of the Back to the Future trilogy. Like most aging, disinterested guests, Lloyd did not have much to contribute to the experience beyond an interesting anecdote or two, but it was certainly enjoyable for fans of the films like me to see Doc Brown in the flesh. More enlightening was the experience of watching these films one after another, which I had never done before. The most interesting observation I come away with from the back-to-back-to-back screenings of the films concerned the increasingly conflicting balance between the unique temporal possibilities of the films and their narrative ambitions.

The first film, from 1985, is without a doubt the finest of the series. The brief moments of exposition littered throughout the first half of the film continue to pay off again and again during the second half, and the film’s entire achievement cannot be fully comprehended on one viewing, which in my opinion elevates this piece of pop filmmaking to a genuine work of art. Michael J. Fox deservedly emerged as a potential movie star after his pitch-perfect performance as the bewildered young time traveler with whom we are expected to relate, and Lloyd’s manic Doc Brown makes the obligatory sci-fi explanation monologues much more fun than they have a right to be. Beyond these characters, the support work rises to the occasion as well, particularly Crispin Glover and Lea Thompson, who essentially play the same characters with three different personalities, and Thomas F. Wilson, who gifted us with one of the great nasties of the cinema, Biff Tannen.

The icon by which all bullies are measured.

The film proves to be so exhilarating in its narrative inventiveness that, by the end of the film, many find themselves desperate for a continuation of the story. Having seen Marty McFly and the Doc use their time machine to explore the past, audiences naturally want to see them explore the future. Thus, the second film. In addition to the often humorous representation of future Hill Valley, the second film folds the plot of the first film into the characters’ second visit to past Hill Valley, which, among other exciting opportunities, allows Wilson to portray many different variations on Biff. Director/writer Bob Zemeckis proved with the first film that he could handle a narrative built on space/time paradoxes with the kind of panache that prevents such stories from becoming leaden or difficult to follow. With the second film, he may have bitten off more than he can chew, but Part II nevertheless retains much of the freshness of the original film.

The third film, though, was an inexplicable diversion from the time-traveling chaos of the first two films. Arguably, the filmmakers recognized that, by the end of the second film, the story was becoming almost untenable in its constant back-and-forths through time and confrontations between characters and themselves from other time periods, so they decided to slow things down a bit and strand our heroes in a particular moment in history for the duration of the film, the Wild West of the lat 19th century. This decision, as has often been said, turns the film series into what seems to be a pitch for a continuing episodic television show (Chris Lloyd, in his Q & A session, often referred to the films as episodes). “Join Marty McFly and Doc Brown as they hop through time on their way home,” Part III seems to say. The film seems so forcibly separated from the first two that it seems more appropriate to drop the Part III from the title and replace it with some kind of subtitle. Thus, the third film proves to be nothing more than an interesting genre piece, where many of the tropes from the first two films are repeated albeit in the Old West.

It's definitely better than The Wild Wild West.

Those tropes bring me back to my original point about the balance between the narrative structure and the themes of nostalgia that perforate the films. While the films increasingly seem to present themselves as episodic, and the narrative is certainly continuous in that Marty is basically swept away at the beginning of the first film and remains caught in a series of time crises that don’t let up until the end of the third film, the films ultimately do not play well in marathon form. These films love nothing more than to quote themselves. How many times does Marty say “heavy,” or confront Biff in a bar, or wake up in a bed next to someone he thinks is his present-day mother but isn’t? If you watched Part II a couple years after Part I, which likely would have been the case in the late 1980s when they were released, you would see these tropes not as overly repetitive but as warm remembrances of that original film that you fell in love with. Watching Part II ten minutes after Part I, however, makes these recurring elements seem like nothing more than lazy, uninspired screenwriting.

Where have I seen this before?

The Back to the Future trilogy is all about taking trips through vast spaces of time, and revisiting memories from a moviegoing experience that occurred four years ago can, in a sense, instill in the moviegoer similar feelings of journeying into the past. Ten minutes, on the other hand, is just a walk in the space/time park.

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