RACHEL GETTING MARRIED (2008)

DEMME DOES DYSFUNCTION
My dissatisfaction with the 2009 Academy Awards has lead me to re-examine the recent Oscar pool, in hopes of understanding what I deem to be a pretty poor outcome. Aside from determining that Slumdog Millionaire was a more than a far cry from Citizen Kane, (heck, it didn’t even touch City of God), I was able to discover hidden gems, such as Johnathan Demme’s refreshing Verité drama, Rachel Getting Married, featuring Best Actress nominee Anne Hathaway. Demme paints a surprisingly real, original portrait of crisis around Hathaway and a cast of others, including Rosemarie DeWitt, in the title role, Debra Winger, as the ominously detached mother, and in a brilliant, yet unsung performance as the well-intentioned, yet tragic father, Bill Irwin. Moments of emotion that typically seem slightly sappy, conventional, and melodramatic are plentiful, but oddly seem to work amidst handheld cinematography and casual dialogue (in a screenplay deftly penned by Sidney Lumet’s daughter, Jenny). A beat of particular poignancy comes during Tunde Adembimpe’s (of TV on the Radio fame, who stars as Sidney, the bridegroom), a capella rendition of Neil Young’s “Unknown Soldier” – if I weren’t so emotionally impervious, I may have shed a tear. At the epicenter is Hathaway, who shines despite a borderline-histrionic subplot; her “Kim” is at once abrasive and empathy inducing. Director Demme’s auteur identity seems to have taken yet another turn, and his eclectic body of work, which now includes the unlikely trio of this film, Silence of the Lambs and Stop Making Sense, seems to signal his mastery. This flick lives and breathes like none other this Oscar season; it is invigorating to experience inventive cinema in the shadow of self-indulgent Hollywood malarkey (you know who you are, Ben Button!)

Link: IMDB

RAISING ARIZONA (1987)

PROOF THAT NIC CAGE WAS ONCE ACTUALLY COOL!

While the brothers Coen are often lauded for their recent film-craftsmanship (No Country For Old Men), and helming of modern cult classics (Lebowski, Fargo), their earlier work often goes overlooked. Their second feature film, after 1984’s pants-urinating-suspenseful neo-noir debut Blood Simple, Raising Arizona, is the cornerstone of their comedic efforts. The film stars Nicolas Cage before he shit his proverbial career-bed with films like Ghost Rider and National Treasure (sorry, Jon Turtletaub ‘85), and Holly Hunter, pre-oscar, at their comedic finest. A simple story of a morally-bereft, yet good-hearted trailer-dwelling couple who steal a baby is given the decidedly quirky ‘Coen Touch.’ The sound design, expansive camerawork, and rhythmic editing that have become the brothers’ trademark breathes stylistic life into the film in the signature Coen way. Supporting performances by Frances McDormand and John Goodman round out an idiosyncratic universe of comedy that is thought-provoking, quotable, and knee-slapping all at the same time. For those who miss the Valley Girl/Cher-romancing Nicolas Cage, or enjoy smart, cinematically-interesting comedy, see this film immediately, or risk not getting a slue of inside jokes – (“He’s awful damn good, I think I got the best one!”)

Link: IMDB

NOTORIOUS (1946)

(HITCH, NOT BIGGIE)
The on-screen team of Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman is enough to make any golden-age film fan feel all fuzzy inside, but the addition of Alfred Hitchcock into the mix is downright orgasmic. The film itself does not fail to live up to its on-paper potential; a sultry plotline of secret agents, seduction, South America, and a staggering screenplay written by the legendary Ben Hecht (His Girl Friday, Hawks’ Scarface) round out this classic. Particularly interesting is Hitchock’s use of space, as he creates a character out of a certain staircase and wine cellar, turning the inanimate into the suspenseful with pacing, editing, and swooping camera movements. The cinematography here is especially notable during a slow, creeping crane shot that begins wide, and gradually tightens on Bergman’s hand holding a crucial key – signaling the tightening circumstances and creating an air of uneasy anticipation. Moreover, Claude Rains’ villainous ‘Alexander Sebastian’ provides a perfect foil to Grant’s iconic, dashing, romantic, and ultimately bad-ass T.R. Devlin, creating a dynamic of layered characters and detailed performances that works to help Hitchock’s hair-raising hand. Maybe someday the title Notorious will conjure images of old-Hollywood glory and not B-list dead rapper biopics.

Link: IMDB

SUNDANCING

(Six or So Weeks Late)
My time spent dodging the paparazzi, bearing the snow, and geeking out in Park City has left me in awe for the past while; it has thus taken me so long to articulate my film festival experiences. Either that, or I just got lazy. Here goes nothing:

Humpday
It seems oddly fitting that a comedy about two straight twentysomething males making a gay porno was the film that popped my Sundance cherry. Humpday also opened the entire dramatic competition, and served to be an apt start to the party. Although I entered the theatre a skeptic, I was quickly converted; director Lynn Shelton constructed an overwhelmingly realistic, laugh-out-loud, and hilariously awkward portrait of two men at a unique crossroads. The no-scripted-dialogue, voyeuristic form seemed to conjure more than the seemingly sophomoric-premise implies, and the film is at once a buddy comedy gone insane, and a poignant coming-of-age ‘mumblecore’-esque story with real resonance. Actors Mark Duplass and Joshua Leonard completely kill in what may be my favorite film of the entire festival.


Lymelife
Ever since Home Alone opened my 3-year-old eyes to the wondrous magic of harming criminals during the holiday season, I have been a fan of the Culkin brothers. Lymelife, which premiered at the Toronto Film Festival, but screened at Sundance, starred the youngest of the Culkin trifecta, Rory, previously notable in You Cant Count on Me and Mean Creek, and featured middle brother Kieran, who shined in The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys and the Salingerite Igby Goes Down. Set in 1980s Long Island, this high-school coming of age story was likeable, but not overwhelmingly original, although supporting performances by Cynthia Nixon, Alec Baldwin, and the creepily-pathetic, but extremely talented Timothy Hutton, were highlights. Hearkening elements of Ang Lee’s masterful suburban drama The Ice Storm, but really more in vein of Thumbsucker or The Squid and The Whale, the film contained moments of exceptional emotion, but was ultimately mediocre and cinematically uninspiring, especially during the disappointing ending scene. Writer/Director/Brother team Derrick and Steven Martini seem nonetheless promising, at least according to fellow New-York-based-Italian-American executive producer Martin Scorsese.

Side Note: Lest you think I forgot about Macaulay, I did spot the most famous leg of the Culkin triangle on a pre-show trip to the restroom, during which he offered me various types illegal substances. (Not really)

Paper Heart
Buzz for this film was far and wide, and it was easily my most anticipated of the festival. Penned by first-time director Nicholas Jasonovec and Knocked Up stoner girl/Andy Kaufman-esque comedienne Charlene Yi, this ‘NOT-umentary’ follows the also-starring Yi on a semi-fictional quest to find love, straddling the lines between meta-comedy, Cinéma vérité, and mockumentary. Yi’s real-life boyfriend and it-guy Michael Cera co-stars as himself, and the use of real-life testimonials and paper figure/puppetry segments make this film surprisingly stylistically interesting. Yi’s original music, which is sprinkled throughout the film, is that sort of ‘cute-indie-hip’ that seems to be so popular since Juno. All in all, I wouldn’t be surprised if this sentiment, combined with the ‘Cera-factor’ propels Paper Heart into semi-mainstream popularity.


500 Days of Summer
If God were an unreasonably beautiful woman with luscious dark hair, fair skin, and enchanting, iconic blue eyes, He would be Zooey Deschanel. If that semi-ilogical attempt at a metaphor didn’t quite convey my affinity for her, which began when I swooned over her in David Gordon Green’s All the Real Girls, I’m not sure what will. This film, from acclaimed music video director Marc Webb (Brand New’s "Sic Transit Gloria…Glory Fades" video, among others), is, as the tagline implies “Not a love story, it’s a story about love.” Yet as much as it tried to veer off the traditional ‘love story’ path – and it did, what with its hilarious dance scene, omniscient narration, animated sequence, and decidedly non-linear storyline – it ended up still stuck in the very conventionality it seemed to oppose. Despite certain familiarities, 500 Days of Summer was pretty powerful in that it played out as smoothly as one of Webb’s music videos – the film was set to an amazing, eclectic soundtrack (the Smiths, Regina Spektor, Belle & Sebastian, etc.) that amped up energy and created emotion in the vein of Garden State. Joseph Gordon-Levitt of Brick fame, plays male protagonist Tom, and proves himself to be a relatable leading man that appeals to the Seth Cohen crowd. Just as Tom is wooed by Deschanel’s ‘Summer’, (especially during her mouthwatering rendition of Nancy Sinatra’s “Sugartown”) one can’t help but be wooed by this film.


Big Fan
As a native North New Jerseyan, I was born and raised as a New York Giants fan, so naturally I was excited for Big Fan, a tongue-in-cheek drama about an loner obsesses with Big Blue. Written and Directed by The Wrestler scribe Robert Siegel, this flick turned out to be something of a awkward bastard child of The King of Comedy and Celtic Pride. VH1 pop-culture-show commentator and B-list comedian Patton Oswalt delivers a passionate performance as the creepily pathetic protagonist, who becomes embroiled in an ill-conceived altercation with his favorite player on the G-Men. The first 50 minutes of this film was poorly paced, amateurish, and sometimes unintentionally cringe-inducing. However, a second-half performance and plotline involving a personal favorite actor, Michael Rappaport (see Ted Demme’s Beautiful Girls), results in an unforgettably original scene, and an ultimate positive attitude towards the film. While sports fandom and its culture is certainly a worthy filmic subject, Big Fan’s storytelling flaws prevent it from doing to athletic aficionados what Lars and The Real Girl did for people in love with dolls.


Black Dynamite
For those that thought Samuel L. Jackson’s Jules Winnfield in Pulp Fiction was the ultimate Bad-Ass Motherfucker, I urge to observe the Bad-Assery that is Black Dynamite: the new standard for gun-toting, bitch-bangin, fro-coiffing action heroes. I was lucky enough to witness the debut of this homage to the Blaxploitation genre at the premiere midnight screening – an experience that was as raucous and outrageous at the film itself. While my lack of knowledge of the genre seemed to hamper my appreciation of certain aspects of the movie, the sheer quotability of film (“Dyn-o-mite! Dyn-o-mite!”), intentionally bad production gags, and ridiculous kung-fu choreography scenes warranted a laugh from all. What Tarantino tried to do in Grindhouse, filmmaker Scott Sanders does successfully here. Black Dynamite is Austin Powers in the hood, on crack, and fly as hell – a destined cult film for the jive-talking crowd.

HERE'S LOOKING AT YOU, WEB

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the new Squinting: a small corner of the internet where one can kick back, relax, and enjoy film snobbery at its very finest. Squinting will henceforth be dedicated to all things cinematic; the blog will be mostly comprised of film reviews, previews, trivia, and miscellaneous movie musings. I often liken the return of Squinting to that of the recently-revived Mickey Rourke; the old blog was handsome, young, and rough around the edges (see Rourke in 1984's The Pope of Greenwich Village), whereas the new blog will be simple, seasoned, and wise (see Mickey's recent tour-de-force The Wrestler.) Coincidentally enough, between eras, Squinting also went through a rough patch of substance abuse, plastic surgery, and even a failed attempt at professional boxing.
To ring in a new era in the blogosphere, I will be reporting about my experiences at the 2009 Sundance Film Festival. As I battle the inclement weather conditions and fend off the droves of Mormons in Utah, I will be posting reviews/reactions, reporting on buzz, showcasing celebrity sightings, and perhaps even sharing an amateurish paparazzi photograph or two. Enjoy the ensuing anecdotes.

Above: Harrison Ford in Ridley Scott's 1982 Sci-Fi Epic Bladerunner

O'BIDEN OR McPALIN?

By Contributing Political Columnist Jon Sheehan
How great was the story John McCain told a crowd in Pennsylvania – the one about how when he was a POW and asked to name some of his commanders by interrogators, he listed the starting defensive line for the Pittsburgh Steelers! – (it was actually the Packers, as he noted in his biography, but Pennsylvania’s a swing state, so that story played well) Besides, McCain is a war vet who has the foreign policy credentials to keep us safe (he’s determined to keep that “Iraq/Pakistan border” secure, right?) Running mate Sarah Palin shakes things up; she’s a reformer; she got rid of Alaska’s incumbent governor and corruption in the state house (as well as a certain state trooper). Sarah Palin is the real candidate for change! (insert your own one liner here). Barack Obama, on the other hand, is too much of a celebrity (in fact, when he went to Germany, 200,000 people showed up cheering his name to hear him speak. Ew!). What does Joe Biden add to the ticket that Hillary doesn’t? – (Only 36 years on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee). Obama is so elitist, how can he relate to ordinary folks like teachers? – (it’s not like he was one or anything!) Executive experience makes great presidents, and neither Obama nor Biden have any (It’s true, all good presidents have executive experience; take our current one for example!) Heck, can anyone name the last president from Illinois who was called inexperienced, and who did a pretty good job in the White House (Abraham, something?)

About the Author: Always on the campaign trail and forever in the hearts of countless young women across the country, Jon Sheehan is Wesleyan University’s foremost sarcastic political analyst and lone Irish Jew.
Link: Jon Sheehan's Facebook Public Listing

WHAT'S SPINNING SUCKA

Delta Spirit
The formula of ultra-hip, ultra-catchy young rock and roll bands has been all but perfected over the past year (see MGMT and Vampire Weekend), but these San Diego natives seem to break the mold – and the results are groovy as heck. These gentlemen specialize in heartfelt, strained vocals layered over toe-tapping, danceable low ends. Catchy and raw at the same time, Delta Spirit combine the grit of the early Stones with jazz-rock sensibilities of the Cold War Kids: a formula that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Singer-songwriter Matt Vazquez also often shows hints of Bruce and Conor Oberst; to my delight, a few songs off of “Ode To Sunshine, ” their debut album, actually tend toward the folky and away from the overtly hipster. That said, “Trashcan” is one of my favorite jams in recent memory; lend a listen, grab a dancing partner, and feel the Spirit.

*Side Note: One of the only downside of the band is the name (for obvious reasons).
Link: Delta Spirit Site