Gentlemen Broncos (2009)****

Elk fly through the air, firing missiles from their various orifices while a major science-fiction novelist resorts to plagiarism in this wonderfully wacky comedy. Nebbishy Michael Angarano (you may not know the name, but you’re sure to recognize the face) stars as a high school student named Benjamin, who has managed to cobble together a manuscript about a partially neutered adventurer named Bronco (Sam Rockwell) and his heroic attempts to regain his purloined genitalia.


Angarano enters the story in a contest where it comes to the attention of a famous Sci-fi writer named Chevalier (the always funny Jermaine Clement). Suffering from writer’s block and with a lucrative deadline looming, Chevalier finds Benjamin’s submission just too tempting to resist, and soon a thinly-disguised version of Bronco is climbing the best seller list. Clement captures the egotistical author’s affectations with a goofy, outsized accuracy while an outraged Benjamin launches a Bronco-like quest to unmask Chevalier as a fraud.


Angarano also has a number of funny scenes with his Mom (Jennifer Coolidge, who seems to get stranger in every movie she’s in), a designer of new-age themed frumpy smocks. Their home is a plywood covered geodesic dome, and I’m sure Buckminster Fuller would be delighted to discover one of his creations being inhabited by such a loopy crew.


The story moves at a brisk and amusing pace, interspersed with dramatized scenes from 3 different versions of the novel because, as it turns out, a local video outfit is making their own embarrassingly bad, low budget Bronco epic. Director Jared Hess somehow keeps all this colliding silliness on track, and we eventually reach a pleasing and just conclusion. Gentlemen Broncos is a wild and wooly outing, with just a touch of juvenile grossness, and the perfect rental for those seeking escapist chuckles.

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Gentlemen Broncos (2009)****

Elk fly through the air, firing missiles from their various orifices while a major science-fiction novelist resorts to plagiarism in this wonderfully wacky comedy. Nebbishy Michael Angarano (you may not know the name, but you’re sure to recognize the face) stars as a high school student named Benjamin, who has managed to cobble together a manuscript about a partially neutered adventurer named Bronco (Sam Rockwell) and his heroic attempts to regain his purloined genitalia.


Angarano enters the story in a contest where it comes to the attention of a famous Sci-fi writer named Chevalier (the always funny Jermaine Clement). Suffering from writer’s block and with a lucrative deadline looming, Chevalier finds Benjamin’s submission just too tempting to resist, and soon a thinly-disguised version of Bronco is climbing the best seller list. Clement captures the egotistical author’s affectations with a goofy, outsized accuracy while an outraged Benjamin launches a Bronco-like quest to unmask Chevalier as a fraud.


Angarano also has a number of funny scenes with his Mom (Jennifer Coolidge, who seems to get stranger in every movie she’s in), a designer of new-age themed frumpy smocks. Their home is a plywood covered geodesic dome, and I’m sure Buckminster Fuller would be delighted to discover one of his creations being inhabited by such a loopy crew.


The story moves at a brisk and amusing pace, interspersed with dramatized scenes from 3 different versions of the novel because, as it turns out, a local video outfit is making their own embarrassingly bad, low budget Bronco epic. Director Jared Hess somehow keeps all this colliding silliness on track, and we eventually reach a pleasing and just conclusion. Gentlemen Broncos is a wild and wooly outing, with just a touch of juvenile grossness, and the perfect rental for those seeking escapist chuckles.

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Colossal Youth (2006)****

Colossal Youth is a deeply personal, unapologetic art film that isn’t the least bit interested in being entertaining, charming or even mildly fathomable. The film is an oblique glimpse into a few days in the life of a middle-aged Creole man (Mario Ventura Medina) who is being relocated by the Portuguese government from a condemned and hellish tenement into a bright, modern apartment.


But all is not well, for Ventura lives in a world of shadowy memories and gnawing regrets, and he spends much of the film meandering back and forth between his old and new digs, engaging in a series of one-sided conversations with people from his past, both real and imagined. Director Pedro Costa works in tightly controlled, meticulously blocked shots and his characters move with such lugubrious care it seems that a sudden breeze would topple them.


Costa rarely allows his actors to move their heads, which creates an absorbed, yet distant intensity that can be quite unnerving to watch, but is highly effective at creating an atmosphere of deflated remorse. Ventura, who apparently cannot write, attempts to mentally compose a love letter to a mysterious woman shown briefly in the film’s opening scenes - brandishing a pairing knife and bellowing with anger and frustration – and his frequent recitations of this poetic missive sharply contrasts his absurd hopes and with his dire reality.


Despite the squalid grimness, Colossal Youth is quite beautiful to look at. Working mainly with available light, Costa’s characters never stray too far from windows, reinforcing themes of entrapment and powerlessness. Night scenes appear to be supplemented by small lighting instruments, creating focused pools of illumination that render a theatrical, surreal quality.


Anyone wishing to tackle this demanding work would do well to spend a few minutes boning up on Portuguese history, particularly the aftermath of the Carnation Revolution of the 1970s, prior to screening as it will greatly enhance one’s understanding of the film’s subtle complexities. Those who enjoy cryptic and challenging cinema will find Colossal Youth a worthy and enthralling watch. Those who don’t should stay far away.

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Colossal Youth (2006)****

Colossal Youth is a deeply personal, unapologetic art film that isn’t the least bit interested in being entertaining, charming or even mildly fathomable. The film is an oblique glimpse into a few days in the life of a middle-aged Creole man (Mario Ventura Medina) who is being relocated by the Portuguese government from a condemned and hellish tenement into a bright, modern apartment.


But all is not well, for Ventura lives in a world of shadowy memories and gnawing regrets, and he spends much of the film meandering back and forth between his old and new digs, engaging in a series of one-sided conversations with people from his past, both real and imagined. Director Pedro Costa works in tightly controlled, meticulously blocked shots and his characters move with such lugubrious care it seems that a sudden breeze would topple them.


Costa rarely allows his actors to move their heads, which creates an absorbed, yet distant intensity that can be quite unnerving to watch, but is highly effective at creating an atmosphere of deflated remorse. Ventura, who apparently cannot write, attempts to mentally compose a love letter to a mysterious woman shown briefly in the film’s opening scenes - brandishing a pairing knife and bellowing with anger and frustration – and his frequent recitations of this poetic missive sharply contrasts his absurd hopes and with his dire reality.


Despite the squalid grimness, Colossal Youth is quite beautiful to look at. Working mainly with available light, Costa’s characters never stray too far from windows, reinforcing themes of entrapment and powerlessness. Night scenes appear to be supplemented by small lighting instruments, creating focused pools of illumination that render a theatrical, surreal quality.


Anyone wishing to tackle this demanding work would do well to spend a few minutes boning up on Portuguese history, particularly the aftermath of the Carnation Revolution of the 1970s, prior to screening as it will greatly enhance one’s understanding of the film’s subtle complexities. Those who enjoy cryptic and challenging cinema will find Colossal Youth a worthy and enthralling watch. Those who don’t should stay far away.

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Troubled Water (2008)*****

Story wise, this impressive Norwegian import has more layers than a box of smoked salmon and before we are through, director Erik Poppe will have methodically revealed all of them. Troubled Water is at heart a psychological thriller, and is characterized by superb casting, exceptional acting and a brave willingness to confront murky and difficult issues without resorting to easy answers.


Convicted of the abduction of a child, Jan (Pal Sverre Valheim Hagen, in a stunning performance) is granted early parole to take a job as a church organist, in the same small town where he was tried and sentenced years earlier. Jan flourishes in his new environment for awhile but, despite changes in appearance and taking on a different name, eventually the shocking details of his past slowly encircle him, and his attempts to rebuild his life are mortally threatened.


Troubled Water then unfolds with the telling of two stories, or rather two perceptions of the same story, as we become intimately acquainted with the mother of the dead child (Trine Dyrholm, whose work here is breathtaking) and the deep mental trauma inflicted on her by the tragedy. Along the way there is significant collateral damage; in particular Dyrholm’s husband (Trond Espen Seim), whose desperation to spare his wife further pain is both palpable and self-defeating and Anna (Ellen Dorritt Peterson), the beautiful church pastor who will have her rote platitudes about Christian redemption severely tested.


The film tilts slightly toward melodrama in the final scenes, but that is due more to the subject matter than any conscious decision by director Poppe, and he quickly rights the ship. Important questions are raised about the differences between forgiveness and acceptance, and how in some cases the former may be beyond the capacity of human beings, regardless of the depth of one’s religious convictions.


Troubled Water is a small-scale film made with great skill and meticulous attention to detail. Poppe, Dryholm, Hagen and Seim all acquit themselves very well here, and this absorbing drama may well represent a major turning point in their respective careers.

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Troubled Water (2008)*****

Story wise, this impressive Norwegian import has more layers than a box of smoked salmon and before we are through, director Erik Poppe will have methodically revealed all of them. Troubled Water is at heart a psychological thriller, and is characterized by superb casting, exceptional acting and a brave willingness to confront murky and difficult issues without resorting to easy answers.


Convicted of the abduction of a child, Jan (Pal Sverre Valheim Hagen, in a stunning performance) is granted early parole to take a job as a church organist, in the same small town where he was tried and sentenced years earlier. Jan flourishes in his new environment for awhile but, despite changes in appearance and taking on a different name, eventually the shocking details of his past slowly encircle him, and his attempts to rebuild his life are mortally threatened.


Troubled Water then unfolds with the telling of two stories, or rather two perceptions of the same story, as we become intimately acquainted with the mother of the dead child (Trine Dyrholm, whose work here is breathtaking) and the deep mental trauma inflicted on her by the tragedy. Along the way there is significant collateral damage; in particular Dyrholm’s husband (Trond Espen Seim), whose desperation to spare his wife further pain is both palpable and self-defeating and Anna (Ellen Dorritt Peterson), the beautiful church pastor who will have her rote platitudes about Christian redemption severely tested.


The film tilts slightly toward melodrama in the final scenes, but that is due more to the subject matter than any conscious decision by director Poppe, and he quickly rights the ship. Important questions are raised about the differences between forgiveness and acceptance, and how in some cases the former may be beyond the capacity of human beings, regardless of the depth of one’s religious convictions.


Troubled Water is a small-scale film made with great skill and meticulous attention to detail. Poppe, Dryholm, Hagen and Seim all acquit themselves very well here, and this absorbing drama may well represent a major turning point in their respective careers.

IMDB

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Goodbye Dragon Inn (2003)***

Tsai Ming-liang’s somnambulistic ghost story takes place in a seedy, crumbling Taipei movie palace, complete with a leaky roof and an abundance of feral cats. On the enormous screen is Dragon Inn, a popular martial arts action film from the 1960s. The theatre is virtually empty, save for a handful of restless patrons who to tend to aimlessly mill about during the show for no particular reason.


The theatre is run by a disabled woman, whose painful trips up and down the building’s serpentine staircases account for the only real action in the film. This is a difficult film to watch, an even harder one to understand, and there are times when you will be tempted to eject the disc and hurl it Frisbee style across the room. And this reviewer would not blame you in the slightest. But those who elect to tough it out will have their patience, if not exactly rewarded, at least vindicated.


There are some beautifully composed shots here that are gorgeous to look at; good thing too, because Tsai sits on all of them way too long. Sometimes to the point of pain. There are allusions to other films as well, particularly the strange relationship between the theatre manager and the projectionist which has Wizard of Oz overtones, and Tsai’s obtuse way of pointing out all the magical elements audiences derive from cinema - sex, intrigue, fantasy worlds – and how only the cinema can deliver them.


There are no doubt other references here as well, but gleaning those may be dependent on one’s knowledge of Asian cinema history, specifically Taiwanese cinema, and not only the movies themselves but the social act of seeing them in large, crowded hippodromes.


Perhaps Goodbye Dragon Inn is best described as Cinema Paradisio on a lethal dose of Demerol, and while this challenging film has some rewarding moments, it will cause most viewers to reach for their own medications.

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