Review: ‘Black Magic for White Boys,’ starring Ronald Guttman, Onur Tukel, Jamie Block, Charlie LaRose, Eva Dorrepaal, Franck Raharinosy and Colin Buckingham

July 22, 2020

by Carla Hay

Franck Raharinosy, Annie McCain Engman, Jamie Block, Charlie LaRose and Onur Tukel in “Black Magic for White Boys” (Photo courtesy of MPI Media)

“Black Magic for White Boys”  

Directed by Onur Tukel

Culture Representation: Taking place in New York City, the comedy “Black Magic for White Boys” has a predominantly white cast (with some black people) representing the middle-class.

Culture Clash:  Various white men in the story use a magician’s spell to make certain people disappear or make their wishes come true.

Culture Audience: “Black Magic for White Boys” will appeal primarily to people who like quirky indie comedies that tend to be rambling and unfocused.

Ronald Guttman, Leah Shore, Colin Buckingham and Eva Dorrepaal in “Black Magic for White Boys” (Photo courtesy of MPI Media)

Writer/director Onur Tukel’s comedy “Black Magic for White Boys” premiered at the 2017 Tribeca Film Festival in New York City as part of the “Tribeca TV — Pilot Season” program for pilot episodes looking to get picked up for a full TV series. It doesn’t look like “Black Magic for White Boys” is going to be a TV series, so the six planned episodes have been condensed and released as a feature film instead. This movie format is a better fit for “Black Magic for White Boys,” which has a concept (white men trying to hold on to power in a politically correct world) that wears thin by the end of the film. There are also several annoying characters that viewers would not want to see again in a continuing series.

The story takes place in New York City, where a small, run-down performing-arts theater (which is not named in the movie) is the catalyst for most of the action in the movie. The theater, which has a seating capacity of about 50 to 60 people, is owned by a French immigrant couple named Larry (played by Ronald Guttman) and Magdalena (played by Lisa Azuelos), who frequently quarrel with each other.

Larry does a stage show as a magician (using the name Larry the Magnificent) in the theater, whose sparse attendance has put the theater on the brink of going out of business. However, one of the things that Larry is most proud of is that he has a book of magical spells that he has written himself.

Three of the theater employees work as assistants in Fred’s magic act: Lucy (played by Eva Dorrepaal), who is generally friendly to everyone; Dean (played by Colin Buckingham), who is self-conscious about being a little person; and recently hired Leah (played by Leah Shore), a mild-mannered naïf who looks and dresses like Barbra Streisand, circa 1976.

Another employee at the theater is theater manager Quentin (played by Brian W. Smith), who keeps warning Fred that the theater will have to shut down unless they can increase the number of paying customers. Magdalena is very aware that she and Larry are in dire financial straits. Magdalena wants to cut their losses and move back to France. Larry hates the idea and refuses to go out of business.

During this period of financial turmoil for the theater, two couples attend a Larry the Magnificent show on a fateful evening. One couple consists of businessman Jamie (played by Jamie Block) and his wife Wendy (played by Annie McCain Engman). They are on a double date with scruffy gadfly Oscar Trout (played Onur Tukel) and a much-younger woman named Chase (played by Charlie LaRose), who have met each other for the first time this evening because it was a blind date set up by their mutual friends Jamie and Wendy.

While the two couples are watching Larry the Magnificent’s poorly attended performance (the theater is less than half full), Larry picks Jamie out of the audience to participate in the disappearing act part of the show, when an audience member is placed in a box. The secret of this trick is that the box leads to a hidden walkway, where the person leaves the stage without being seen by the audience, and then magically “reappears” somewhere else in the theater.

To Larry and Jamie’s shock, the disappearing act actually works without the trick of using the walkway. When Jamie comes back, he has no memory of what happened when he disappeared, but he’s so impressed, that he stays after the show and tries to meet Larry the Magnificent to find out the secret of how he disappeared. Lucy tells Jamie that Larry isn’t available, but Jamie is determined to come back later to find out the secret.

Not long after that show, Larry and Magdalena are having another one of their arguments. She threatens to leave him. Larry knows that his magical spells seem to be working, so he makes Magdalena disappear. Larry seems surprised but not upset by her disappearance. Larry privately makes an attempt to find Magdalena, but when she’s nowhere to be found (and he genuinely has no idea where she is), he tells the rest of the staff that Magdalena has decided to leave and go back to France.

In the beginning of the movie, there’s some background on Jamie, who is shown to be a ruthless businessman. He owns an apartment building in a low-income neighborhood. And he’s personally and gleefully gone to the building to tell the tenants that their rent will increase 30% by the next month because of a new city law that allows it.

The tenants are understandably upset, and most say that they’re going to refuse to pay the rent increase since they can’t afford the new rent fee. There are various scenes in the movie that show the tenants (who are all people of color—mostly African Americans and some Latinos) griping about the rent increase in places like street corners while waiting for a bus or in a tenant meeting inside one of the building’s apartments.

Meanwhile, the movie shows that after the date at the magic show, Chase went home with Oscar and spent the night with him. Before they have sex, Oscar tells Chase some more about his background. Oscar, who has never been married and doesn’t have kids, is unemployed, but he brags that it’s because he’s been living off of an inheritance that his late father left him. Apparently, Oscar’s mother is also dead, and he has no siblings, because it seems as if Oscar got the entire inheritance.

Oscar is adamant in telling Chase that he never wants the responsibility of having kids, although he says that he’s open to finding a life partner. Chase tells Oscar that it’s not a problem for her that he doesn’t want kids, because she knows she has fertility issues and can’t get pregnant anyway.

It’s at this point in the story that you know exactly what’s going to happen—and it does: Chase gets pregnant, Oscar is the father, and Chase wants to keep the child. She finds out she’s pregnant four months after she and Oscar have been dating each other. When she tells Oscar, he’s furious about it.

First, Oscar tries to convince Chase to have an abortion. When that doesn’t work, Oscar attempts to trick Chase into taking an abortion pill that he buys from a drug-dealer friend named Fred (played by Franck Raharinosy), who carries around a pharmaceutical box filled with illegal and legal drugs. That doesn’t work either.

And then, Oscar remembers that Jamie told him that Larry the Magnificent’s magical spell really made Jamie disappear. And somehow, Fred has gotten ahold of Larry’s book of magic spells and passed on some of its secrets to Jamie, who has been using magic spells to make his complaining tenants disappear. When Oscar hears that there’s a magic spell to make people disappear, he thinks it would be a great idea to use this spell to get rid of Chase’s pregnancy by having the impregnated embryo disappear.

There’s also a subplot about magician’s assistant Leah, who’s been dating a racist and sexist moron named Ralphie (played by Brendan Miller), who degrades her and everyone who has the misfortune of being in contact with him. Leah breaks up with Ralphie and starts having a chaste romance with her co-worker Dean.

Ralphie, who sees himself as a desirable hunk, can’t believe that Leah has moved on by dating a little person. Ralphie begins to stalk Leah at the theater and tries to sweet-talk his way back into Leah’s life. Ralphie says he’s now in therapy and taking medication for his emotional problems, so Leah dumps Dean and gets back together with Ralphie. Guess where Ralphie got the medication? Fred, of course.

Dean is crushed by the breakup and feels that he was jilted because of his below-average stature. Leah insists that wasn’t the reason why she ended their romance, but Dean decides that he’s tired of being short. And who comes to the “rescue” again? It’s Fred, who gives Dean a pill and magical spell that Dean can use to change his physical appearance to be a better-looking, taller version of himself.

And the story takes another bizarre turn when Larry orders theater manager Quentin to get the menstrual blood of a young virgin. (The reasons why are explained in the movie.) Quentin thinks the fastest way to find a female virgin is to interview barely legal women to work at the theater. In one such interview, after getting some basic questions out of the way, Quentin awkwardly asks the young woman if she’s a virgin. You can imagine what her reaction is, especially in this #MeToo era.

Meanwhile, Oscar’s problems escalate when he finds out that his accountant/business manager (played by Kevin Corrigan) swindled Oscar out of all of his inheritance money by making bad investments without Oscar’s permission. Oscar is then forced to find a job. During a job interview that Oscar has at a computer company, where he’s being interviewed by a man who’s about 20 years younger than Oscar, this insufferable blowhard shows how old and out of touch he is by talking about his skills with outdated software.

Oscar then goes on a rant about race where he tells the white man interviewing him that white men are under siege and need to stick together. Oscar also goes off on a tangent about how he’s really of Middle Eastern heritage, and he can pass as white or a person of color, depending on whatever situation suits him best. In what’s supposed to be a joke, Oscar then says if the company needs to fill a quota to add a Middle Eastern or Latino staffer, he can be that person.

What is the point of “Black Magic for White Boys”? It’s basically Tukel’s sloppily written social commentary on how white men feel their power slipping away in a country (the United States) where women and girls are 51% of the population, there’s an increasing number of non-white people, and there are more demands for positions of power to have a more accurate reflection of the racial and gender diversity that exists in the U.S.

All the white men in this movie take some kind of action to try to make themselves feel like they are asserting their power. Larry makes his wife Magdalena (portrayed as a nagging shrew) disappear. Jamie knows that his tenants are organizing meetings to fight back against his outrageous rent increase, so he makes these tenants disappear.

Oscar thinks that if Chase gives birth to their child, she’ll be trapping him into paying child support for the next 18 years. And so, Oscar tries to make the pregnancy disappear. How this pregnancy issue is ultimately resolved seems like the movie’s weak attempt to prevent any criticism that the movie is too offensive when it comes to unplanned pregnancies.

Ralphie pretends that he’s changed for the better, in order to get back together with Leah in a relationship where he’s the dominant partner. (And the movie plays into stereotypes that women prefer “bad boys” over “nice guys.”) And even “nice guy” Dean aspires to society’s physical ideal of what it means to be a man, because Dean wants to have more power when it comes to dating women.

Fred exerts his power by being the story’s Dr. Feelgood, who gives the image that he has the answers to people’s problems in his pharmaceutical box. Fred, a white drug dealer, has a somewhat “respectable” image in this movie, compared to how a black drug dealer doing the same things would be portrayed as a “criminal who should be locked up” in this movie or other movies like it. At any rate, all the non-white people in the movie are portrayed as subservient in some way to white people.

“Black Magic for White Boys” tries to be funny, but most of the jokes don’t really land very well. Any of the dialogue that’s deliberately politically incorrect just seems too self-aware to be genuinely funny. The acting in this film is adequate. It’s the writing that really makes this film an often-boring mess.

And writer/director Tukel shows his Generation X age in some of the jokes. For example, one of the African American men in the movie resists Jamie’s attempts to buy his house. He says to Jamie, “The last time I let a white man in my house, he tried to play Air Supply on my stereo.” Most people born in or after the 1980s won’t understand that joke, because they won’t even know who Air Supply is.

Another ’80s reference in one of the movie’s jokes is made when someone shows a picture of the Elephant Man, and the other person asks if that’s a picture of actor Mickey Rourke. It’s a joke that works best for people who know the context of how Rourke was a handsome sex symbol in the 1980s. Comparing the Elephant Man to what Rourke looks like now is kind of an insider-ish cheap shot that will go over the heads of people who don’t really know movie history or don’t even know who Rourke is.

Another example of how the movie isn’t written very well is how it handles a “dress code” issue for Oscar, who prides himself on being a non-conformist. Oscar gets a phone call telling him that he got the job that he interviewed for at the computer company. But to his dismay, the person who calls Oscar with this news also tells Oscar that his long-ish hair and bushy beard will be a problem for the company, so Oscar agrees to cut his hair and shave his beard in order to get the job.

And yet, later in the story, when he starts working at this company, Oscar’s hair and beard remain unchanged. It just doesn’t make sense to make such a big deal about him having to cut his hair and beard (presumably as an example of how Oscar has to change in order to fit in as another office wonk) and then abandon that idea altogether. It’s an example of this movie’s sloppy screenwriting and careless directing.

In the end, the issue over Oscar’s hair and beard was unnecessary because Oscar makes some other decisions in his life which contradict the type of person he obviously was proud of being for several years. This drastic personality change for Oscar looks like Tukel’s insipid attempt to placate any viewers of this movie who would object to Oscar’s plan to terminate Chase’s pregnancy.

And it’s one of the wishy-washy things about this movie, which can’t decide if it wants to be a dark satire or a series of absurdist comedy sketches strung together. (Within the movie, there are five different chapters that are labeled.) If you’re going to have a character such as Oscar, who’s a politically incorrect lout, then go all in, and stick with it. The world is filled with too many comedies that are ruined by taking the easy way out and having a longtime jerk suddenly turn into a big-hearted softie.

Oscar’s storyline is wrapped up nicely with a tidy little bow, but almost all of the other characters’ story arcs wander and aren’t necessarily resolved at the end of the film. Maybe that’s because this movie was originally conceived as the first season of a series. But even then, there’s not really much of a story left at the end for anyone to be interested in seeing what would happen next.

MPI Media released “Black Magic for White Boys” on digital and VOD July 3, 2020.

Review: ‘Never Too Late,’ starring James Cromwell, Shane Jacobson and Jacki Weaver

July 22, 2020

by Carla Hay

James Cromwell, Jack Thompson, Roy Billing and Dennis Waterman in “Never Too Late” (Photo courtesy of Blue Fox Entertainment)

“Never Too Late” (2020)

Directed by Mark Lamprell

Culture Representation: Taking place in the Adelaide, South Australia, the comedy “Never Too Late” has a predominantly white cast of characters (with some Asians and a few black people) representing the middle-class.

Culture Clash: Four Vietnam War veterans try to break out of their prison-like nursing home.

Culture Audience: “Never Too Late” will appeal primarily to people who like comedies that make senior citizens look like cartoonish buffoons.

James Cromwell and Jacki Weaver in “Never Too Late” (Photo courtesy of Blue Fox Entertainment)

The filmmakers of the cringeworthy comedy “Never Too Late” should make an apology to the nursing homes of Australia for making these nursing homes look like prisons run by callous and barbaric people. “Never Too Late” (directed by Mark Lamprell and written by Luke Preston) is built around this flimsy premise, which is filled with too many moments that insult viewers’ intelligence. The considerable talents of this movie’s cast are wasted in this film that is dead-set on making almost all of them, especially the senior citizens, look like fools.

“Never Too Late” begins with a voiceover from retired Australian military nurse Norma McCarthy (played by Jacki Weaver) and a montage of what’s supposed to be old Vietnam War photos and footage. Norma says, “For three years, I nursed soldiers in Vietnam. But this story isn’t about me. It’s about the love of my life and the three men who went against all odds to get him back to me. They were known as the Chain Breakers: four young lads full of guts and swagger, a secret elite squad from the U.K., the U.S. and Australia.”

Norma further explains that the Chain Breakers became prisoners of war in Vietnam for 12 months until the four men managed to escape. They all eventually went their separate ways. The leader of the Chain Breakers is Lieutenant Jack Bronson (played by James Cromwell), an American who tends to be bossy and arrogant. He also happens to be the “love of my life” whom Norma speaks fondly about in the opening sequence. We soon find out that Jack was the love who got away from Norma.

Viewers first see the present-day Jack in a wheelchair, and he looks like he’s had a stroke. He has checked himself into the Hogan Hills Retirement Home for Returned Veterans in Adelaide, South Australia. And after he gets a routine exam to test his motor skills (he’s slack-jawed and can barely speak), Jack is wheeled into his assigned room.

As soon as the attendants leave, Jack quickly gets up and walks around as if he’s perfectly healthy. It’s apparent that he was faking his stroke and disabilities. But why? Because he wanted to check into the nursing home, since Norma lives there too. Even though Norma has been corresponding with Jack by letter every week for 50 years, they haven’t seen each other in person during all that time.

Norma was married to a doctor, and she is now a widow who’s checked herself into Hogan Hills. Jack has come to the nursing home to “surprise” Norma. Jack immediately finds Norma by herself in a hallway. (How convenient.) She recognizes him after they haven’t seen each other for 50 years, and they make googly eyes at each other.

But just as Jack is about to ask Norma an important question (we all know what that question will be), an attendant shows up and says that Norma has to leave because she’s being transferred to another nursing home. Jack refuses to let her leave, a slight scuffle ensues, and security attendants are called. Jack and Norma are separated before he can ask her the question.

While “in custody,” Jack is scolded by the nursing home’s stern manager Kim Lin (played by Renee Lim) for faking his disabilities and causing a ruckus. He’s also told that Norma has early stages of dementia and won’t be back at the nursing home for three months. Norma has been taken to a nearby nursing facility called Bay Lodge for experimental treatment of her dementia.

“In three months, she might not remember me,” moans Jack. Thus begins the contrived “race against time” for Jack to reunite with Norma to ask her his big question.

Viewers might wonder, “Why can’t Jack visit Norma in person at this other nursing home?” The answer is because Hogan Hills keeps the residents locked up like prisoners. Doors are locked with access cards that only employees have.

And later in the movie, it gets worse: When someone in the Chain Breakers gets caught trying to leave the nursing home, he is punished by getting strapped tightly to a bed and injected with medication that leaves him in a zonked-out state of mind. This completely illegal imprisonment happens more than once in the movie. Keep in mind that this is a nursing home, but it’s unrealistically run like a “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” psychiatric facility, with Kim Lin as Hogan Hills’ version of Nurse Ratched.

There’s even a high chain-link fence around Hogan Hills that Jack discovers while he’s being held in the nursing home. (Obviously, he didn’t do his homework in finding out what kind of facility this really is.) It’s at this fence that Jack meets Elliot (played by Zachary Wan), who looks like he’s about 15 or 16 years old. Elliot is the only child of a Hogan Hills nurse named Gina (played by Gina Lamprell), and he seems eager to have someone to talk to when he meets Jack.

Elliot says that he knows all the ins and outs of the nursing home. The teenager also mentions that he hangs out at the nursing home a lot because his single mother is afraid to leave him at home by himself after school. Later, Jack finds out that Elliot lied to him about why Elliot spends a lot of time at the nursing home: Gina says that Elliot is the one who’s afraid to be home alone, and he asked his mother if he could hang out at the nursing home while she works.

But something that Elliot tells Jack is true: The other three members of the Chain Breakers are in the same nursing home as he is. Gee, what a coincidence. And guess who’s going to help Jack break out of this nursing home and into the nursing home where Norma is staying/being imprisoned? The reunited Chain Breakers call this mission Operation Skippy, as in, they’re going to skip right on out of this nursing home if it’s the last thing they do.

And why does Elliot know so much about the Chain Breakers? It turns out that he’s a Vietnam War history buff and he’s idolized the Chain Breakers for years. Gee, what a coincidence. And he volunteers to help them with their mission to break out of the nursing home. At first, the Chain Breakers are reluctant to let this kid tag along, but when they consider how helpful Elliot can be, they include him in their plans.

As for the other Chain Breakers: Angus “Screw Loose” Wilson (played by Jack Thompson) is in the early stages of having Alzheimer’s disease. There are several tacky jokes made about his forgetfulness and mental stability, such as his tendency to walk around naked from the waist down because he forgets to dress himself down there. Angus is the most mild-mannered one of the four Chain Breakers.

Corporal James Wendell (played by Roy Billing) is a hot-tempered, wheelchair-using rogue with a criminal record for bank robbery. Viewers first see James fighting off three male nursing attendants with a broom because he doesn’t want to take a prostate exam. James might have a gruff exterior, but he’s going through some emotional pain because his adult son Bruce (played by Shane Jacobson), whom James hasn’t seen since Bruce was a baby, refuses to communicate with him. James’ letters to Bruce are returned unopened.

Sergeant Jeremiah Caine (played by Dennis Waterman) is the smooth-talking ladies’ man of the group. Jeremiah, who’s British, was a semi-famous actor, and he’s good at conning his way out of situations. Jeremiah is having a secret fling with a married resident at the nursing home. He and his lover are almost caught while they’re having a tryst in her room, when her husband knocks on the door, but Jeremiah manages to convince her husband that he has the wrong room. (This movie has a lot of cheap jokes about old people being forgetful.)

There’s also a somewhat unnecessary character named Hank (played by Max Cullen), a Hogan Hills wacky resident in his 90s, whose only purpose in the movie is to barge in on the Chain Breakers’ secret meetings (which they have in a stock room) and make a nuisance out of himself. The predictable insulting jokes about Hank’s age and physical decline are then made at his expense. Hank responds to the insults by calling the other men “pussies,” because the “Never Too Late” filmmakers think that old people cursing in a movie is automatically supposed to be funny.

The rest of the movie is as predictable and mindless as you would expect it to be. Although the acting is passable, the dialogue in the film is not. Here’s an example of some of the vapid conversations in this useless film. Jeremiah asks Jack: “Do you have a plan?” Jack answers, “Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

And there are some hijinks involving a loaded gun that Jeremiah has smuggled into Hogan Hills; Angus’ habit of walking around naked from the waist down; and a predictable scheme to set off the fire-alarm sprinklers in order to force an evacuation. And a few of the characters have certain things revealed about themselves that aren’t too surprising.

There are several plot holes that this movie never answers. First, Jack is able to fake a stroke without medical records to back it up. These medical records would be required before he was admitted into this military veterans’ nursing home. Second, it was also unnecessary for him to fake a stroke when it’s a nursing home for able-bodied people as well as people with disabilities.

And most importantly, this nursing home isn’t a psychiatric facility where it would be reasonable to place people on lockdown. It’s not legal in Australia and most other civil societies to imprison people in a nursing home when they are of sound mind and no danger to themselves or other people. There’s some cockamamie explanation in the movie that Jack (who is of sound mind and body) and the other Hogan Hills residents signed over their rights to leave the nursing of their own free will—in other words, they agreed to be held as prisoners there—but that in and of itself is a problematic legal issue that no legitimate nursing home would be allowed to get away with for long.

Even if it were actually legal for Australian nursing homes to imprison residents, why would a former prisoner of war agree to that in the first place? It just makes Jack look incredibly dumb. And we won’t even get into the legalities of how a legitimate nursing home probably wouldn’t allow an employee’s underage child who doesn’t work there to come over and wander around wherever and whenever he wanted.

And then there’s the most logical thing that the movie completely ignores: If Jack was so desperate to see Norma, he could have just visited her. He didn’t have to go to the trouble of checking into the same nursing home where she lives and pretend to have a stroke. And after Norma was transferred to the Bay Lodge nursing facility, she was still lucid enough to have visited Jack at Hogan Hills. (It’s shown in the movie that Bay Lodge isn’t as restrictive as Hogan Hills.)

But if all this logic had been in the screenplay, there wouldn’t be a plot for this insipid movie, which doesn’t just stretch the limit of common sense. It obliterates common sense in order to make almost every character look as moronic as possible. There’s no sense of camp, irony or satire about all the silliness in this horrible film that wants to think it’s a classic comedy, just because a bunch of well-known actors (two who are past Oscar nominees) are saying the lines.

“Never Too Late” looks like a cheesy made-for-TV movie, even down to the sitcom-ish musical score. And because this movie is directed like a forgettable sitcom, the actors all look like they’re just going through the motions and not having any fun. Viewers of this dreck won’t have any fun watching it either.

Blue Fox Entertainment released “Never Too Late” in select U.S. virtual cinemas on July 10, 2020. The movie’s VOD/digital release date is on August 14, 2020.

Review: ‘Guest of Honour,’ starring David Thewlis, Laysla De Oliveira, Rossif Sutherland, Arsinée Khanjian and Luke Wilson

July 21, 2020

by Carla Hay

David Thewlis in “Guest of Honour” (Photo courtesy of Kino Lorber)

“Guest of Honour”

Directed by Atom Egoyan

Culture Representation: Taking place in Canada, the dramatic film “Guest of Honour” has an all-white cast of characters representing the middle-class.

Culture Clash: A woman who spent time in prison for a crime she didn’t commit attempts to reconcile with her past and her family secrets when she meets with a priest about her father’s funeral.

Culture Audience: “Guest of Honour” will appeal primarily to people who like arthouse psychological dramas that are slow-moving and where people act illogically.

Luke Wilson and Laysla De Oliveira in “Guest of Honour” (Photo courtesy of Kino Lorber)

The movie “Guest of Honour” (written and directed by Atom Egoyan) presents itself as a psychologically driven drama that’s supposed to unravel a family mystery, but the only mystery that viewers will be faced with is whether or not it’s worth their time to slog through this convoluted and often-dull film. Although the movie is anchored by an interesting and somewhat complex performance by David Thewlis, ultimately it falls short in how the characters are developed and how sluggish and illogical the story ends up being in many ways.

“Guest of Honour” begins with a woman in her late 20s who is meeting with a priest at a church, in order to make arrangements for her widower father’s funeral. She has never met this priest before, but she’s there because it was her father’s dying wish to have his funeral service conducted by the priest at this church. The woman’s name is Veronica Davis (played by Laysla De Oliveria), and the priest’s name is Father Greg (played by Luke Wilson). Veronica starts to tell Father Greg not only her life story but also what her father Jim Davis (played by Thewlis) was like when Veronica knew him.

And apparently, Father Greg has enough time on his hands to listen, because as the story unfolds to viewers in this 103-minute movie, it’s a rather long-winded, non-linear, rambling tale that will test the patience of people having to hear it. The movie flashes back and forth between showing Veronica’s life as a child, Veronica’s life as an adult, David’s life before his wife died of cancer, and David’s life as a widower.

There’s a lot to unpack about David’s and Veronica’s lives, but one thing is clear: Veronica has had a lot of people close to her die while she’s still in her 20s. She also spent time in prison for a crime she didn’t commit, but she confessed to the crime and asked for the maximum sentence. Why? Because she feels guilty about something she did in her past.

Most of the movie has spoiler information, so the only spoiler-free details that can really be revealed are from some of the flashback scenes. Viewers find out that David’s wife/Veronica’s mother Roseangela (played by Tennille Read) was a Brazilian immigrant in Canada. Veronica is David and Roseangela’s only child.

This family of three had a happy life until Roseangela got cancer when Veronica was about 9 years old. David, who never remarried, used to own a restaurant. But at some point in his life, he switched careers to become a health inspector of restaurants.

Flashbacks show that David was a very stern inspector who took his job very seriously. He liked to randomly show up and surprise people with his inspections. And he wouldn’t hesitate to shut down a restaurant for health-code violations.

There’s a scene where he finds a strand of hair in his food while dining at a food court, and he gives a scathing lecture to the young woman behind the counter for not wearing a hair net while working. There are no scenes of David as a restaurateur, but there are scenes of him visiting Veronica in prison and being frustrated when she refuses his offer to help her get released early.

When Veronica was a child (played by Isabella Franca), she took piano lessons from a family friend named Alicia (played by Sochi Fried), who had a son named Walter (played by Alexander Marsh), who was approximately the same age as Veronica. Walter and Veronica became close friends, and that relationship had developed into a romance by the time that they became young-adult teenagers. (Gage Munroe plays the adult Walter.)

As for the crime that landed Veronica in prison, even though she didn’t commit the crime, it was for sexual misconduct with an underage student. A flashback shows that Veronica used to be a music teacher at a high school, where she was the conductor of the school’s orchestra. Being a young, attractive and popular teacher got her a lot of attention from the male students, as well as other people who were in her orbit.

While on a tour with the school orchestra, one of the students named Clive (played by Alexandre Bourgeois) has an obvious crush on Veronica, so he boldly asks her out to dinner after one of the orchestra’s performances. Veronica politely declines and says that she has a dinner date with the tour bus driver, whose name is Mike (played by Rossif Sutherland). Mike is a scruffy creep who’s about 10 to 15 years older than Veronica. She’s not interested in Mike, but Veronica is temporarily using Mike as a “shield” to ward off Clive’s advances.

When Veronica has dinner with Mike, it’s obvious that Mike is attracted to her too. He’s been noticing that Veronica and Clive have a little bit of a mutual flirtation, but as far as anyone can see, there’s nothing inappropriate going on between the student and the teacher. When Veronica tells Mike that she’s only having dinner with him so that Clive will lose interest in her, Mike is offended. However, Veronica tells Mike that he shouldn’t be insulted because she’s being honest with him in telling him that she’s not interested in dating Mike either.

The movie reveals exactly how Veronica got into trouble and why she was accused of sexual misconduct. There’s also quite a bit of screen time showing David on the job as an inspector. Although he can be a tough evaluator, he also shows moments of compassion. One of the restaurants that David inspects is a place called the Vienna Tavern, where he has a fateful meeting with a restaurant manager named Anna (Arsinée Khanjian).

And a white rabbit named Benjamin, which David gave to Veronica as a gift when she was 9 years old, is a quasi-metaphor in the movie for David’s relationship with Veronica. The rabbit lives a lot longer than most rabbits, and that longevity is mentioned in the movie, to make it obvious to viewers that this is supposed to be a special rabbit.

David takes care of Benjamin when Veronica is in prison. He clings to the rabbit in moments when it’s obvious that he’s thinking of Veronica. David and Veronica also think a rabbit’s foot is a good-luck charm, which leads to a gruesome request that David makes toward the end of the film.

One of the striking things about this family drama is how isolated David and Veronica seem to be in their lives after Roseangela died. If Veronica and David have any other relatives or any other friends besides Walter and Alicia, they are not seen or mentioned at all in this movie, which is why this story feels like a lot is missing. There’s also a cringeworthy part of the movie where Father Greg commits a major breach of ethics by revealing to Veronica something confidential that David told Father Greg.

The weakest part of “Guest of Honour” is when David tries to play private detective, in order to find out exactly how and why Veronica got in trouble and imprisoned for a crime that he knows that she didn’t commit. It leads to some hokey moments, such as when David does some melodramatic shouting in a restaurant about Veronica’s reputation and how she’s not the type of person to commit the crime.

This investigation takes an emotional toll on David, but the scenes just aren’t very well-written. David goes from being a nebbish health inspector to having an almost vigilante-like obsession to get justice for his daughter. He’s not acting like Liam Neeson in a “Taken” movie, but David starts making threats as if he’s some kind of mob boss for the health department.

As a mystery, “Guest of Honour” (whose title is explained in the film) loses steam by the last third of the film because Veronica’s secret has already been revealed at this point. It’s not a surprise that David has a secret too, which is revealed toward the end of film, but his secret is very anti-climactic.

Although the acting and most of the production elements (such as cinematography and production design) in “Guest of Honour” are good (but not great), ultimately the movie could have benefited from a better screenplay and tighter editing. The father and daughter at the center of this story are written as a series of unfortunate events instead of people with emotionally rich and full lives.

Kino Lorber released “Guest of Honour” in select U.S. and Canadian virtual cinemas on July 10, 2020. The movie’s DVD and Blu-ray release date is August 18, 2020.

Review: ‘We Are the Radical Monarchs,’ starring Anayvette Martinez and Marilyn Hollinquest

July 20, 2020

by Carla Hay

A scene from “We Are the Radical Monarchs” (Photo courtesy of PBS)

“We Are the Radical Monarchs”

Directed by Linda Goldstein Knowlton

Culture Representation: Taking place in California, the documentary film “We Are the Radical Monarchs” features a racially diverse group (African American, Asian and Latino) of parents, women and girls who are involved in the Radical Monarchs, a social-justice group for girls of color that was formed in Oakland as an alternative to the Girl Scouts.

Culture Clash: The Radical Monarchs are taught politically progressive ideals, but the group gets criticism from conservatives who think the group is inappropriate for children or exclusionary of white people.

Culture Audience: “We Are the Radical Monarchs” will appeal primarily to politically liberal people or people who believe in social-justice groups.

A scene from “We Are the Radical Monarchs” (Photo courtesy of PBS)

How young is too young for kids to learn about social-justice activism? That’s up to children’s parents or legal guardians, but the documentary “We Are the Radical Monarchs” shows how two unapologetically liberal-minded women in the San Francisco Bay Area decided to form a social-activist group for girls called the Radical Monarchs, as an alternative to the non-political Girl Scouts.

Directed in cinéma vérité style by Linda Goldstein Knowlton, “We Are the Radical Monarchs” (which was filmed from 2015 to 2017) obviously won’t appeal to everyone politically, but at the very least it shows how the members of the Radical Monarchs are being taught to express their rights to free speech in their quest to make the world a more open-minded and tolerant place. The girls in the documentary are bright, inquisitive and respectful of each other and of adults.

The Radical Monarchs launched in December 2014, in Oakland, California, when co-founder Anayvette Martinez, a single mother, saw that her then-10-year-old daughter Lupita was part of a Girl Scout troop that treated issues related to people of color as secondary or not as important as other issues. As Martinez says in the documentary, “I wanted her to have a troop that centered her as a girl of color.”

Martinez (who was a community organizer at the time) joined forces with like-minded Marilyn Hollinquest to co-found the Radical Monarchs specifically for girls of color and as a way to teach them to be involved in social-justice issues. They decided to affiliate the Radical Monarchs with Black Lives Matter, after being inspired by the August 2014 protests in Ferguson, Missouri, over the fatal shooting of Michael Brown (an 18-year-old unarmed African American) by white police officer Darren Wilson.

The documentary shows Martinez and Hollinquest leading the Radical Monarchs’ first troop (with girls ranging in ages from 8 to 11) in discussions about race, gender identity, LGBTQ issues, police brutality, Black Lives Matter, peaceful protests, immigration, affordable housing, civil rights and fighting against discrimination. The Radical Monarchs often have guest speakers (who are usually activists) at their meetings. Transgender women and people with disabilities are among those shown in the documentary as guest speakers.

And just like the Girl Scouts, the Radical Monarchs get badges. But the Radical Monarchs badges are for achievements in political activism and social justice, rather than specific careers or non-political hobbies. (Black Lives Matter co-founder Alicia Garza is shown attending a few Radical Monarchs events as a show of support, such as when she hands out merit badges.) And even though the Radical Monarchs are not old enough to vote, the girls are very politically involved, since the documentary shows them doing things such as attending protests and marches (including the 2017 Women’s March in San Francisco); speaking at city council meetings; and visiting with politicians in California’s state capital of Sacramento.

Hollinquest (who has a background as a development director dealing with laborer rights) explains the need for the Radical Monarchs to exist: “Youth get underestimated a lot [for] how much they see, hear and know. And because of the adults around them being uncomfortable talking about topics, then things don’t get talked about. So, for us, the Radical Monarchs is the safe place where they can come. We are trained, and we can talk about these issues in a comfortable way.”

Martinez and Hollinquest met while they were in graduate school at San Francisco State University. Both women say in the documentary that they identify as “queer” (Martinez and Hollinquest are just friends, not a couple) and outspoken feminists. In addition, Hollinquest and Martinez say that they are teaching their Radical Monarch members to have progressive views, but they also encourage the girls to always ask questions about what they are taught and what they see around them.

The documentary shows that self-acceptance, inclusion and standing up for others who are being discriminated against are values that are constantly being taught to the girls. There are question-and-answer sessions where the girls are allowed to ask anything they want. And they are encouraged to support each other like sisters. For example, when one of the girls breaks down and cries when remembering how she was bullied in school because of her skin color, the other Radical Monarchs rally around to hug her and comfort her.

And the girls are taught to look carefully at the media to understand that who controls a media outlet has a lot to do with how that media outlet shapes stories and puts out certain images. For example, in a session called Radical Fashion, members of the Radical Monarchs are shown two different female-oriented magazines—InStyle and Ms.—and asked to point out the differences in how women and girls are portrayed in each magazine. Not surprisingly, the girls say that they think Ms. portrays the female gender more realistically and has smarter articles. The girls are then told that Ms. magazine was founded and is owned by women, while InStyle is not.

“We Are the Radical Monarchs” thankfully doesn’t get distracted with bogging down the documentary with “expert” political commentary from people who have nothing to do with the organization. Instead, the filmmakers let the interview commentary come directly from people who are involved with the Radical Monarchs, as members, leaders or parents. For example, when the Radical Monarchs visit the California State Capitol Building in Sacramento, the film shows highlights of the visit as the girls interact with the politicians there (such as state senator Holly Mitchell), rather than pivot to overstuffing the documentary with separate interviews with the politicians.

One of the Radical Monarch girls named De’yani, who’s interviewed in the documentary, comments on being the only African American girl in her Girl Scouts troop. By contrast, in the Radical Monarchs, she says, “You get to learn cool stuff about social justice and race, compared to talking about selling cookies and money and stuff.”

Indeliso Carillo, a mother of one of the Radical Monarch girls, comments: “So many of our kids feel invisible. And this is a place for them to not feel invisible and to really develop into believing that they have a place here and a voice that needs to be heard.” Laticia Erving, another mother of a Radical Monarch, adds: “Radical Monarchs gives her a sisterhood of young girls who look like her. Their focus is making a change in the world.”

The documentary also addresses the criticism, ridicule and hate that the Radical Monarchs get from people who think the group is damaging to children. Archival clips from Fox News are included as expressing some of this criticism, which usually argues that the girls are being “brainwashed” and that the Radical Monarchs are a “racist” group.

Although the Radical Monarchs leaders do not say explicitly say that white girls are not allowed to join the group, the larger question that the documentary filmmakers should have asked is, “How many white girls have wanted to join the Radical Monarchs?” Because if the answer is “none,” then there’s no racist discrimination. But if white girls wanted to join but were turned away (and the documentary did not present any evidence that this has happened), then that would definitely be racial discrimination.

It also speaks to another big question: “How many white parents would feel comfortable letting their child join a group where a white person would be in the racial minority and the group discusses uncomfortable topics such as racism against people of color?” The Radical Monarchs leaders say that their members already know what it’s like to live every day in a country where they are a racial minority and treated like a second-class citizen just because of their race. And that’s why the group was created in the first place: so that their members can be in a group where being a non-white person isn’t a “minority” stigma.

Rene Quinonez, a father of one of the Radical Monarchs, comments on the current reality of living in the United States: “White folks set the standards of beauty … education … everything in our community. That’s a huge injustice. When we create a space for these young women, it’s not excluding everyone. It’s about recognizing the injustice of these women not having this space [in the overall U.S. population].”

One of the most emotionally moving scenes in the documentary is when the Radical Monarchs visit with former Black Panther Party member Cheryl Dawson, who tells them what it was like to fight for civil rights in the 1960s and 1970s. One of the girls asks Dawson if police brutality has gotten better or worse since the days when she was a Black Panther. Her chilling response: “It’s gotten worse.”

Several of the adults in the documentary (including Dawson and Radical Monarchs co-founders Martinez and Hollinquest) say that they wish that they had a group like the Radical Monarchs when they were kids. It’s mentioned many times in the film that one of the biggest issues facing the group leaders is how to expand their program, since they are constantly being asked if they will start Radical Monarchs chapters in cities outside of the San Francisco Bay Area.

As with many start-up nonprofits, fundraising and not having enough money are major issues. And the documentary shows how grass-roots the Radical Monarchs organization was in its first few years: The group didn’t have an official office and instead worked out of Martinez’s home. However, the Radical Monarchs did get a lot of media coverage almost from the beginning of their launch. That exposure was crucial in helping their name recognition and building on that success.

The documentary also gives a personal background on Martinez and Hollinquest, who say that even though they share the same political ideals (and coincidentally, the same birthday), they have very different upbringings and personalities.

Martinez, who says she’s the more extroverted co-founder, grew up in San Francisco as the daughter of Central American immigrants. Her mother was a feminist and her “biggest advocate” who encouraged Martinez to get a college education, while Martinez’s conservative father expected her to have a more old-fashioned lifestyle. Martinez says she was the first openly queer female editor-in-chief of the California-based college student newspaper La Gente, and she got a lot of death threats because of it.

Hollinquest, who says she’s more introverted than Martinez, grew up in a strict Pentecostal household in the rural city of Tulare, California. Her parents were so conservative that Hollinquest says that she wasn’t allowed to wear trousers when she was a child. And she was also taught that women had to be submissive to men. Needless to say, her coming out as queer must have been a shock to her family, although Hollinquest doesn’t go into details over what that experience was like for her. She’s obviously in a place of self-acceptance now, and is spreading that self-acceptance message to girls who might not get that support in their own homes or at school.

A great deal of the documentary shows how Martinez and Hollinquest launched Troop 2 for the Radical Monarchs while still leading Troop 1 and while still working in their day jobs. It’s as exhausting as it sounds. Fortunately, they had plenty of volunteers who eventually came on board to lead Troop 2. The documentary includes footage of Martinez and Hollinquest having meetings planning their goals for the Radical Monarchs’ growth and expansion.

Some of the girls (including Martinez’s daughter Lupita) helped evaluate potential leaders of Troop 2 and gave their feedback on which ones they thought were the best. Lupita is one of the most articulate and poised girls in the group, but there are no signs that she let her mother’s Radical Monarchs position of power go to her head. And when Lupita tells an emotional story about how she and her mother were evicted from their home after the landlord raised the rent to an amount they could no longer afford, it isn’t with a self-pitying attitude but with a take-charge positive attitude that the experience fuels their fire to fight for affordable housing for people who are less fortunate.

“We Are the Radical Monarchs” doesn’t try to hide that it’s heavily biased toward liberal causes and the Democratic Party. (The documentary includes the expected reactions to the 2016 U.S. presidential election.) But putting party politics aside, this documentary is a fascinating look at how girls are speaking out and taking action for human-rights issues that matter deeply to them. And it wouldn’t be surprising if some Radical Monarchs alumni get elected to political office someday.

PBS premiered “We Are the Radical Monarchs” as part of the “POV” series on July 20, 2020.

Review: ‘Easy Does It,’ starring Ben Matheny, Matthew Martinez, Cory Dumesnil, Susan Gordon, Bryan Batt, Dwight Henry and Linda Hamilton

July 18, 2020

by Carla Hay

Matthew Martinez, Cory Dumesnil and Ben Matheny in “Easy Does It” (Photo courtesy of Gravitas Ventures)

“Easy Does It”

Directed by Will Addison

Culture Representation: Taking place in the United States in July 1977, the comedy “Easy Does It” has a predominantly white cast of characters (with a few Latinos and African Americans) representing the middle-class, working-class and criminal underground.

Culture Clash: Two dimwitted con artists go on a road trip, kidnap a man, and go on an armed robbery spree while trying to outrun two female gangsters who are after them for unpaid debts.

Culture Audience: “Easy Does It” will appeal mostly to people who like high-octane but incoherent action comedies.

Linda Hamilton in “Easy Does It” (Photo courtesy of Gravitas Ventures)

The action-comedy film “Easy Does It” is as scatter-brained and messy as the two simple-minded con artists who are the story’s protagonists. Directed by Will Addison, who co-wrote the screenplay with “Easy Does It” co-star Ben Matheny, “Easy Does It” is the type of movie that could have been improved with more imaginative writing. But the movie ends up dragging because the silly action scenes become too repetitive and lead to a very predictable ending.

The first scene of “Easy Does It” is an indication of how bad this movie is when it shows a small group of homeless-looking people under a bridge watching a fist fight between two other dirty and disheveled men. It’s July 1977, in a run-down part of Aberdeen, Mississippi, and there’s a pile of betting money for this fight. The observers soon find out that this brawl has been rigged by the two “fighters,” who run off before the angry mob can get to them. The two con artists are so dumb that they forget to grab any of the cash that was in the betting pile.

Who are these losers? They are best friends  and trailer mates Jack Buckner (played by Matheny) and Scottie Aldo (played by Matthew Martinez), who work together as dishwashers at a grungy diner. But what Jack and Scottie really want is to get rich without having to work hard. Jack is the alpha male of the duo, since he’s the one who comes up with often-outlandish money-making schemes. Scottie is a slack-jawed follower who goes along with Jack’s ridiculous ideas.

One day, while they’re at work washing dishes in the back of the diner, Jack and Scottie pretty much get chased out of their job, when their boss Mack (played by Charlie Talbert) finds out that a business in which he invested on Jack’s recommendation turned out to be a money-losing dud. Mack storms into the back room where Jack and Scottie are working and unleashes his rage on them, by calling them “white trash” and throwing dishes at them.

Jack and Scottie’s boss isn’t the only person who’s furious with them. A local crime lord named “King George” Montgomery (played by Linda Hamilton, in cornrows and looking very butch in a men’s suit) is after them because of unpaid debts. King George has an equally ruthless daughter nicknamed “Blue Eyes” (played by Susan Gordon), who is sent to do a lot of King George’s dirty work.

While holed up in their trailer, Jack is looking through his mail when he sees a postcard which reads, “Dear Jack, if you’re reading this, I’m dead. Kiss, kiss. Mom. P.S.: Left you something under that pier.” Jack explains to Scottie that when Jack was a child, he and his mother visited San Clemente, California, where they went to a beach with a pier.

Jack is convinced that his mother buried something valuable underneath the pier and that whatever the treasure is, it can solve their money problems. Jack decides that they’re going to take a road trip to San Clemente to find that hoped-for treasure. Scottie willingly agrees, because they also want to get away from King George.

But not so fast. Before they can leave, Jack and Scottie are ambushed in the back of their car by King George and Blue Eyes, who threaten them with violence over their unpaid debts. A scuffle ensues, and Scottie and Jack manage to get King George and Blue Eyes out of the car before racing off. But do you think King George and Blue Eyes will let Jack and Scottie get away so easily? Of course not.

Jack and Scottie’s road trip begins during the Fourth of July holiday weekend, so there’s an abundance of patriotism while they drive through the Southwest. (And you can bet that fireworks will be part of the cartoonish violence in this movie.) The problem with the road trip is that Jack and Scottie have no money. The only way they want to get gas is by stealing it or by stealing money to pay for the gas. They decide to steal the gas.

At a gas station, Jack and Scottie show that their stupidity knows no bounds. They are shocked to find out that the gas pump doesn’t work unless the gas is paid for in advance. A nerdy customer points out this fact to them, so this bumbling duo decides to force the clerk who controls the gas pumps inside the gas station’s convenience store to let them have the gas for free.

What starts out as a simple robbery turns into a kidnapping when Jack and Scottie end up taking the nerdy customer as a hostage. The hostage’s name is Collin Hornsby (played by Cory Dumesnil), and he begs to be let go because he says he has a fiancée waiting for him at home. Jack and Scottie end up dumping Collin in a deserted area. But when Jack figures out that Collin’s harmless and geeky appearance can help them with more armed robberies, they go back and retrieve him as a reluctant accomplice to a crime spree.

The rest of “Easy Does It” basically consists of a series of armed robberies that Jack and Scottie commit, with Collin as their decoy/shield, at places like diners and convenience stores. Hot on their trail is Blue Eyes, as well as an arrogant Texas cop named Officer Owens (played by Bryan Batt) and a jaded sheriff named Chief Parker (played by Dwight Henry), who grow increasingly frustrated—just as viewers of this movie will be increasingly annoyed at how repetitive and unimaginative the chase scenes are.

Along the way, Jack and Scottie smoke a lot of marijuana and hide out in deserted areas. To disguise themselves during the robbery, they use a “patriotic” face bandana (for Jack) and face paint (for Scottie). When their robberies make the news, they get nicknamed by the media: Jack is called the Star-Spangled Bandit, while Scottie is called the Apache Warrior. Collin, who says he works in telephone customer service for a catalogue company, is in way over his head with this criminal activity, but somehow he starts to get the hang of it, and he develops a friendship of sorts with these two moronic outlaws.

The madcap tone of “Easy Does It” can best be described as influenced by the drug-induced incoherence of the 1998 Hunter S. Thompson road-trip movie “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” (starring Johnny Depp as Thompson) and the redneck culture of the TV series “The Dukes of Hazzard,” but without an interesting story to tie it all together. The dialogue in “Easy Does It” is absolutely terrible, and the acting from most of the cast isn’t much better. And there’s almost nothing to like about any of the characters in this movie.

As the chief gangster King George, Hamilton seems to be having the most fun in her campy role. Hamilton is an alum of several “The Terminator” action flicks (which aren’t known for being Oscar-worthy intellectual projects), but she still must have been cringing a little inside when she had to utter lines in “Easy Does It,” such as, “Promises don’t butter any bread, fellas” or “I want you, Jack … on a platter.”

“Easy Does It” doesn’t take itself too seriously. But between the sloppy editing, the mindless dialogue and the missed opportunities to create genuinely funny and memorable characters, “Easy Does It” is actually not that easy to watch because it’s like watching a headless chicken running around in circles until everything mercifully comes to an end.

Gravitas Ventures released “Easy Does It” in select U.S. cinemas, on digital and on VOD on July 17, 2020.

Review: ‘The Sunlit Night,’ starring Jenny Slate

July 18, 2020

by Carla Hay

Jenny Slate in “The Sunlit Night” (Photo by Eirik Evjen/Quiver Distribution)

“The Sunlit Night”

Directed by David Wnendt

Culture Representation: Taking place in Norway and New York, the comedy/drama “The Sunlit Night” has an all-white cast of characters representing the middle-class.

Culture Clash: A female struggling painter artist from New York City takes a job as an apprentice to a grouchy and famous male painter artist, who lives as a recluse in Norway.

Culture Audience: “The Sunlit Night” will appeal primarily to people who like independent films that have plenty of quirky characters but not much substance.

A scene from “The Sunlit Night,” with (in front row) Gillian Anderson (third from left), Alex Sharp (third from right), Zach Galifianakis (second from right) and Jenny Slate (far right). (Photo by Eirik Evjen/Quiver Distribution)

When it comes to live-action comedy/dramas or “dramedies” that Jenny Slate stars in, it’s time for her to move on from playing the type of “stuck in a rut” woman who’s still living with her parents or still trying to launch a career, long after most people have already figured out what they want to do with their lives. (See 2017’s “Landline” and 2014’s “Obvious Child,” which is still the best movie that Slate has starred in so far. )

The dreadfully bland comedy/drama “The Sunlit Night,” starring Slate (who is long past her 20s, even though she looks younger than her real age), is yet another independent comedic film where she plays someone who gets a rude awakening that she has to start living her life like a responsible adult. In “The Sunlit Night,” Slate (who is one of the film’s producers) plays the character of Frances “Fran” Cohen, a New York-based painter artist who’s struggling to make a living from her art. German director David Wnendt makes his English-language film debut with “The Sunlit Night.”

In the beginning of the movie, Frances has recently broken up with her boyfriend Robert (played by Dan Puck) whom she’s been comfortably living with in the Hamptons. It’s implied that Robert was taking care of all of Frances’ financial needs, because now that the relationship is over, she’s suddenly found herself broke and homeless.

Frances has to move back in with her parents—Levi (played by David Paymer) and Mirela (played by Jessica Hecht)—at their cramped New York City apartment. She doesn’t share the details with her family about what went wrong in the relationship with Robert (and it’s not mentioned in the movie at all), but Frances’ parents assume that Robert was the one who ended the relationship. That assumption annoys Frances, although she doesn’t correct them.

Frances isn’t just upset about her love life. Her career isn’t going so well either. The opening scene of the film shows three pretentious art critics evaluating one of Frances’ art pieces that’s hanging on a wall, and making it clear that they don’t think the piece is good enough. One of the critics describes Frances’ work as “pedestrian,” as she sits uncomfortably in the room, listening to them while they give their negative reviews.

Frances has also recently gotten rejected for an artist residency in Tokyo. “Maybe I’m not an artist,” Frances says in a voiceover. “Maybe I’m just the daughter of two other artists.”

Frances’ mother Mirela (who designs upholstery textiles for well-to-do clients) and father Levi (who’s a medical illustrator) both make their livings as artists, but they have opposite personalities. Mirela is nurturing and supportive, while Levi is quick-tempered and tactless. Frances’ younger sister Gabriella, nicknamed Gaby (played by Elise Kibler), also lives in the apartment.

One evening, while the family is having dinner together, Gabriella surprises them with the news that she’s gotten engaged. Frances is happy for her sister, but Levi and Mirela aren’t thrilled because they don’t like her fiancé Scott Glenny. (The movie doesn’t go into details over why the parents disapprove of this relationship.) Levi immediately ruins Gabrielle’s big news about her engagement by announcing that he and Mirela are separating and they’re selling the apartment.

Feeling like her life is falling apart (and also desperately needing a new place to live), Frances jumps at the chance to work for a famous but reclusive artist named Nils Auermann (played by Fridtjov Såheim) in the remote Arctic district of Lofoton in Nordland, Norway. It’s only a summer job, and Frances has been warned that Nils can be very demanding and difficult (he fired the previous person who had the job), but Frances takes the opportunity anyway to be Nils’ apprentice.

Nils is painting a yellow mural on a local Viking Museum’s abandoned barn. He’s entered the project into a national arts competition. And he needs someone to help him finish painting the barn. The apprentice who has the job is required to live on Nils’ property.

When Frances arrives at Nils’ place, she immediately sees why he has an unpleasant reputation. He’s a rude and very self-centered taskmaster. And he immediately tells Frances that they will have long work hours (from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m.), and that she will only be allowed to work on her own art in her own free time.

Frances’ living arrangements are also less-than-ideal: She has to live in a small, messy trailer. A previous tenant has written this message on the trailer cupboards: “Welcome to Hell,” as a warning of what’s to come. Frances not only has to deal with culture shock, but she also has to adjust to Arctic Norway’s environment of the sun never really setting, even at night.

Frances covers and paints over the trailer windows in order to get some sleep. And she has some unexpected company with a young goat that keeps showing up in her trailer. Despite Nils being such a cranky and gruff boss, Frances feels a little bit of kinship with him, because art critics have used the same words to describe Nils’ art and Frances’ art: “lazy, cold, not working.”

In the nearby Viking Village, Frances visits the Viking Museum and meets an eccentric named Haldor (played by Zach Galifianakis, in yet another weirdo role), who’s the museum’s manager and who insists that people call him Chief. Haldor/Chief isn’t from Norway. He’s actually an American from Cincinnati, but he considers himself to be an expert on Norwegian culture and history—so much so, that he’s always dressed in a Viking outfit, and he stars in the museum’s short history videos that are shown in the museum’s visitor screening room. Frances is slightly amused by Haldor/Chief, which is more amused than most people watching this movie will be by this insufferable Viking wannabe character.

Nils has color-coded how the barn should be painted, while Frances says in a voiceover she’s the type of artist who prefers finger paint. Because he is very particular on how he wants the barn to be painted, Nils and Frances inevitably clash. When Nils loses his temper with Frances over how she painted part of the barn (too sloppily, in his opinion), he grabs her arm and yells, “The barn is like a cathedral to me!” Frances immediately defends herself and shouts back, “Don’t touch me ever!”

Frances storms off to get some time away from her aggressive boss. But defending herself from his physical harassment is a turning point in her relationship with Nils, because he now knows that she’s no pushover. Later, he makes a semi-apology to Frances by telling her: “You and I are complete opposites, Frances. I am not used to people … But we complement each other.”

One day, while driving with Nils in his car on a deserted road, Frances sees a solemn-looking man, who’s around her age, wearing a black suit and walking with a suitcase on the road. Frances asks Nils if they can offer the man a ride, but Nils says no.

Frances sees the mysterious suit-clad man again at a local diner. She begins talking to him and tells him that she’s sure that she’s seen him before in New York. And by the way she looks at him, it’s obvious that she’s very attracted to him and interested in getting to know him better. This sad-looking man acts very aloof with her, and he rebuffs her attempts at a friendly conversation.

Frances sees him again later at the Viking Museum. And this time, she finds out who he is and why he’s in Norway. His name is Yasha (played Alex Sharp), and it turns out he really is from New York. Yasha is in Norway because his Russian immigrant father, whom he worked with at his father’s bakery in New York, has died, and Yasha is fulfilling his father’s wish to have a traditional Viking funeral in Norway.

And where is Yasha’s mother? Her name is Olyana, and she stayed in Russia, and never immigrated to the United States, as Yasha and his father had hoped. Yasha is very estranged from his mother, and he hasn’t invited her to the funeral. But that doesn’t stop Olyana (played by Gillian Anderson) from showing up anyway.

The biggest problem with “The Sunlit Night” is that it’s a lot duller than it should be. Galifianakis usually plays goofballs who are supposed to be annoying, but his Haldor/Chief character in this movie has no moments that are truly funny. It’s almost as if he’s there as filler. Anderson does a Russian accent that isn’t very convincing, while the Yasha character is just a grieving shell of a man, so he doesn’t have much of a personality.

The relationship between Frances and Nils, which is supposed to be the center of the story, seems devoid of anything memorable, except for the scene where they have a physical confrontation. There are a few pretentious moments when Frances namechecks some famous fine-art pieces in comparisons to her current life situation, but only art buffs will really appreciate some of these semi-humorous references. And even the “romance” scenes in the movie fall flat.

Rebecca Dinerstein Knight adapted “The Sunlit Night” from her 2015 novel of the same title. The book is based on her own “fish out of water” experiences as a New Yorker living in a remote part of Norway. But what works in a book doesn’t always work in a screenplay, since the pace of “The Sunlit Night” moves as slowly as a glacier moving through the Arctic.

An example of what’s wrong with this movie is how it mishandles a possible friendship between Frances and a bored Coop Prix supermarket worker (played by Luise Nes), whom Frances randomly meets at the supermarket in the frozen-food section. (This supermarket worker says her name is Kay, but she is identified in the film credits only as “Fridge Girl.”) Frances asks this young woman if she would like to pose for a painted portrait for Frances. Fridge Girl says yes, and immediately walks out of her job that day to go with Frances, without telling her boss or co-workers.

The next thing you know, Fridge Girl is posing nude for Frances in Frances’ dumpy trailer. Who does that? The movie never bothers to answer that question, because there’s no insight given into Fridge Girl’s character and why she’s the type of person to just impulsively walk out of a job to go with a stranger to pose for a nude portrait in a dingy trailer in the middle of nowhere.

Although the movie shows that Fridge Girl has posed for multiple nude portrait sessions for Frances, there’s no real inkling of what kind of conversations they might have had outside of those portrait sessions. Viewers don’t get to see the development of a possible friendship between the supermarket worker and Frances. Instead, viewers see more of Fridge Girl’s naked breasts than her personality.

Another thing about the movie that’s a missed opportunity is how little of Norwegian culture it shows, except for over-the-top Viking stereotypes that are played for laughs. Frances doesn’t seem very curious about getting to know other local artists who might live in the area, or even traveling in her free time outside of the stifling atmosphere of working with Nils. (Going to a local diner and a local grocery store doesn’t count.)

Maybe Frances’ lack of interest in exploring more of Norway is an example of how shallow she is or maybe how lazy the screenwriting is in not making the book more interesting for the movie. Conveniently, Frances’ “love interest” just happens to be a fellow New Yorker who’s in Norway. If you were to believe what’s presented in this movie, Norwegian men just aren’t interesting enough for Frances.

And did Frances really mature emotionally from this experience? What happens when her summer apprenticeship with Nils ends? Those questions are answered in the movie, but the conclusion isn’t particularly insightful.

Frances has the type of arrested-development lifestyle that might be somewhat cute when you’re in your 20s. But it’s not cute when you’re way past that age. If people want to see a comedy/drama film about a struggling female artist who recently broke up with her boyfriend, moves back in with her parents in their New York City apartment, and has a younger sister whose life is going more smoothly than hers, then writer/director/actress Lena Dunham already made that a much-better movie with “Tiny Furniture.”

Quiver Distribution released “The Sunlit Night” on digital and VOD on July 17, 2020.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-twMQ4SOuE

Review: ‘Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!,’ starring Kaye Ballard

July 18, 2020

by Carla Hay

Kaye Ballard in “Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!” (Photo courtesy of Abramorama)

“Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!”

Directed by Dan Wingate

Culture Representation: Taking place in the United States, the documentary “Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!” features an all-white group of senior citizens in the entertainment industry discussing the career of entertainer Kaye Ballard, including Ballard herself.

Culture Clash: Ballard experienced sexual harassment, hostile work environments and career slumps during her more than 75 years in showbiz.

Culture Audience: Besides the obvious target audience of Kaye Ballard fans fans, “Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!” will appeal primarily to people who are interested in stories about the Golden Age of Hollywood and mid-20th century Broadway.

Kaye Ballard and Ann-Margret in “Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!” (Photo courtesy of Abramorama)

The documentary film “Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!” (directed by Dan Wingate) is a pleasant and often-humorous ride down Kaye Ballard’s memory lane of her seven decades in the entertainment business. It’s not going to reveal anything particularly new, and it’s the type of documentary that’s really just a compilation of interviews and archival footage. But it’s the closest thing to a filmed memoir for Ballard, who died in 2019 at the age of 93.

Born in Cleveland in 1925, Ballard’s birth name was Catherine Gloria Balotta. She was one of four children of Italian immigrants Lena and Vincenzo (later called Vincent James) Balotta. Long before she changed her stage name to Kaye Ballard, she knew from an early age (5 years old) that she wanted to become an entertainer. By the age of 16, Ballard was touring with comedian Spike Jones. And she went on to become a prolific actress and singer on stage, in movies and on television—even back in the days when entertainers were pressured to stick to one category of where to perform.

Ballard was a headliner on Broadway and for her nightclub shows, but in movies and television, she almost always had supporting roles, and they were usually comedies. Therefore, although she was famous, she wasn’t a superstar who was a household name worldwide. She mentions in the documentary that a highlight of her career was being on the cover of Life magazine in 1954 (for her starring role in the Broadway musical “The Golden Apple”), in one of famed photographer Richard Avedon’s rare photo shoots for Life magazine.

Because she’s a known comedian, Ballard mugs for the camera and jokes around a lot during her interviews. For almost the entire documentary, Ballard just talks about her career. The documentary’s big gaping void is the lack of information about her love life. Although she never married and did not have children, she doesn’t even discuss things such as if she ever fell in love, who she dated, or even if she had crushes on anyone.

The only time in the documentary that Ballard opens up about her personal life in this film is toward the end when she says, “I had the most wonderful family in the world.” She then talks about how close she was to her beloved grandmother, but her relationship with her parents wasn’t always as close.

Ballard describes her mother Lena as emotionally distant, although they did reconcile their differences toward the end of Lena’s life. As for Ballard’s dad, she says: “My father could never say ‘I love you.’ He’d say, ‘Well, I wish you good luck, always.’ He was the most noble man I knew.”

Ballard had a 2004 autobiography called “How I Lost 10 Pounds in 53 Years: A Memoir,” so this documentary is just a more updated version of that book, with the added context of archival clips. It’s clear from watching this film that Ballard is one of those entertainers who didn’t seem to have any close friends outside of showbiz. Everyone who’s interviewed in this documentary is someone from the entertainment business—usually people who’ve worked with Ballard at one time or another.

And they have nothing but good things to say about Ballard. (Some of the people interviewed in for this documentary have since passed away, including Jerry Stiller, Liz Smith, Carol Channing and Harold Prince.) Other people interviewed in the documentary are Ann-Margret, Carol Burnett, Michael Feinstein, Elaine Paige, Sandy Stewart, attorney/producer Mark Sendroff, Peter Marshall, Rex Reed, Mimi Hines, Joy Behar, Donna McKechnie, Woody Allen, Sandy Stewart and “Perry Como Show” producer Gary Smith.

The movie has a mostly chronological look at Ballard’s career. And, for the most part, Ballard has the expected fond memories, while the talking heads in the documentary give Ballard effusive praise. Commenting on Ballard’s 1959 album “The Fanny Brice Story in song,” Reed gushes, “She was more Fanny Brice than Barbra Streisand.” Stiller says about Ballard, “She made more people famous than you can imagine.”

Ballard also mentions that Mama Rose in the musical “Gypsy” was the “the best role ever written” that she got to perform. She also says some of her best working experiences were on “The Perry Como Show.” And she also retells the well-known story of how she rejected the “My Coloring Book” song (written by famed Broadway songwriting duo John Kander and Fred Ebb) because she didn’t think she would be believable singing it, so she suggested that Stewart sing it instead.

In one way or another, all of the people interviewed say that Ballard was a consummate professional who enjoyed helping other entertainers be their best. Behar shares a story about how, early in her career, she had a guest cameo on “The Steve Allen Comedy Hour” in 1967. Behar says she was so nervous that she flubbed the first take of the scene.

But after getting a pep talk from Ballard, who was on the set and standing near the camera, Behar sailed through the second take. Behar says in the documentary, “And so, I’m forever indebted to Kaye Ballard for helping me in my first humble day of showbiz where I was really scared.”

Ballard is certainly ebullient and upbeat in the documentary, but she does talk about some of the down sides of her showbiz career, such as being targeted for sexual harassment by comedian Phil Silvers and being blackballed by Johnny Carson. She also went through periods of time, especially when she got older, when she couldn’t get as much work. And because she wasn’t conventionally beautiful, she wasn’t considered a “leading lady” type for film and TV.

According to Ballard, Silvers wanted Rose Marie to be his leading lady in the 1951-1952 Broadway musical “Top Banana,” but Ballard was cast instead. Ballard says that Silvers sexually harassed her, and when she rejected his advances, she claims that he tried to get her fired and “he made my life miserable for 10 months.” When “Top Banana” was made into a 1954 feature film, Ballard says, “He didn’t let me do the movie, and I’m glad, because it was a bomb.”

As for getting on Carson’s bad side, she says it was because she was misquoted in a magazine article about her experience being a guest on his talk show. Carson never asked her back on his show and he didn’t seem to care about getting her side of the story. However, since showbiz is full of egos that are huge and fragile, even the nicest person can end up making enemies.

Ballard shares her philosophy on dealing with haters: “When somebody tries to get me down, it makes me stronger. I stick with it.” She says it’s one of the reasons why she refused to quit “Top Banana,” because she didn’t want to give Silvers the satisfaction that his bullying was going to run her out of the show before her contract ended.

In the documentary, Ballard’s tales of positive experiences far outnumber any negative experiences. Even when her contract was not renewed for the game show “Hollywood Squares,” it gets a positive spin in the documentary. Former “Hollywood Squares” host Marshall and Ballard both say in the documentary that she ended up not being a good fit for “Hollywood Squares” because she wasn’t good at deceiving the contestants, which is part of the game.

And she has some surprisingly nice things to say about a few showbiz people who had reputations for being difficult off-stage. Ballard comments on Lenny Bruce: “Many people get the wrong impression of Lenny Bruce. They think he was a dirty old man, but he was anything but—he was a sexy young man.” And on Jerry Lewis, Ballard says: “I’m one of the few people in the world who loves Jerry Lewis.”

If there’s one tiny criticism of Ballard’s commentary it’s that she tends to name-drop a little too much when she talks about celebrities who came to see her perform on stage. However, it can be excused as someone who was awed and humbled that people she respected took the time to watch her live performances.

And she certainly was surrounded by plenty of talented people. Ballard says that when she moved to New York City and lived in Greenwich Village, she says her best friends were Maureen Stapleton, Eli Wallach, Ann Jackson and Marlon Brando. By the way, she describes Brando as “just brilliant, lovely to know.”

One of the best production aspects of this documentary is that it has a lot of great archival footage that’s very well-edited with the interviews. Clips from Ballard’s TV appearances over the years are especially wonderful, because most of the clips won’t be seen on TV again anytime soon. And as the subject of the documentary, Ballard is the movie’s best asset, since she has a very engaging way to her storytelling.

Because “Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!” isn’t the type of documentary that shows Ballard’s life off-stage, the film looks a lot like a feature-length “sizzle reel,” with commentary from Ballard and her colleagues about her career. Ballard seemed to be fiercely protective about her private life, so it’s no surprise that this documentary doesn’t offer any new insight about how she shared her life with anyone outside of her work.

Abramorama released “Kaye Ballard: The Show Goes On!” in select U.S. virtual cinemas on July 17, 2020.

Review: ‘Carmilla,’ starring Jessica Raine, Tobias Menzies, Greg Wise, Hannah Rae and Devrim Lingnau

July 17, 2020

by Carla Hay

Hannah Rae and Devrim Lingnau in “Carmilla” (Photo by Nick Wall/Film Movement)

“Carmilla” 

Directed by Emily Harris

Culture Representation: Taking place in 1780s rural England, the drama “Carmilla” has an nearly all-white cast (with one black person) representing the  wealthy and middle-class.

Culture Clash:  When a mysterious teenager recuperates from a carriage accident in an unfamiliar family’s home, her presence causes conflicts among the widower, his teenage daughter and governess who live there.

Culture Audience: “Carmilla” will appeal primarily to people who like coming-of-age dramas that have arthouse sensibilities.

Jessica Raine and Hannah Rae in “Carmilla” (Photo courtesy of Film Movement))

The haunting period drama “Carmilla” is a perfect example of a movie that does a lot with a little. The film’s cast consists of less than 10 people, and the movie was filmed in just 22 days, according to the “Carmilla” production notes. But “Carmilla” (beautifully written and directed Emily Harris) far surpasses many other movies with considerably larger budgets and casts.

Based on the 1872 Gothic novella “Carmilla” by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, this movie adaptation makes a few changes from the source material. The novella was set in 19th century Austria, while the movie takes place in 18th century England—the 1780s, to be exact. Many of the characters in the book are not in the movie. The story’s innocent teenager is named Laura in the book but is named Lara in the movie. And the biggest change in the movie is that it’s not a vampire story, although the erotic and intimate undertones of sharing blood are definitely part of the movie.

It was a bold and ultimately wise choice for writer/director Harris not to make this movie version of “Carmilla” a vampire story. First, it would put this movie in the horror genre, which would distract from the true essence of the story: It’s a meditation about how two teenage girls react to a repressive society when the girls start to have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship.

And secondly, any film about a teenage vampire is going to get inevitable comparisons to the blockbuster “Twilight” movie series, which was a hit with audiences but ridiculed by more artistically minded people, such as movie critics and filmmakers. And there have already been a horror-comedy Web series and a movie based on the “Carmilla” novella.

The “Carmilla” movie from writer/director Harris is imbued with a quiet, deliberate aura that manages to convey the oppressive but physically lush atmosphere where the story is set. It’s an insular world where disobedience and being different, especially if one is of the female gender, are met with cruel punishment. In a rural, isolated manor, 15-year-old Lara (played by Hanna Rae) has a very regimented and sheltered life, but she has the type of curiosity that makes it apparent that she’s feeling stifled.

Lara has an emotionally distant widower father named Mr. Bauer (played by Greg Wise), so the main adult figure in her life is Lara’s strict and very superstitious governess Miss Fontaine (played by Jessica Raine), who is in her 30s and who controls almost every aspect of Lara’s life. When Lara asks questions such as, “Where do spirits go?,” Miss Fontaine tells her about heaven.

There’s a dark side to Lara having Miss Fontaine as a teacher/authority figure. Miss Fontaine, just like many people of that era, believes that being left-handed is a sign of evil. And because Lara is left-handed, Miss Fontaine has inflicted some torturous methods to force Lara not to use her left hand when she’s writing, including hitting Lara’s left hand and making Lara wear her left arm in a tightly bound sling.

Miss Fontaine also physically abuses Lara by hitting her repeatedly as a way of punishing Lara for other reasons. One of these punishments happens when Lara is caught hiding one of her father’s books that has illustrations of people being tortured. Miss Fontaine severely disciplines Lara about the book because the teenager took the book from her father’s study without his permission.

“You and your left hand, playing with the devil,” Miss Fontaine scolds Lara while physically assaulting her. Miss Fontaine also orders Lara to pray to repent for her sins. There are two other servants shown in the Bauer household—a maid named Margaret (played by Lorna Gayle) and a stableman named Paul (played by Daniel Tuite)—but Miss Fontaine is at the top of the household’s employee hierarchy. Margaret and Paul are essentially supporting characters that passively follow orders.

Being an only child with no friends has made Lara a very lonely teenager. She has been anticipating the visit of another teenager named Charlotte, who is the daughter of a family friend. But Charlotte has become very ill, so her visit has been postponed. (Charlotte had planned to stay at the Bauer home for several months.) There’s a scene where Lara, with a melancholy expression on her face, burns a letter that she had written to Charlotte, since it doesn’t make sense to send the letter now that Charlotte is too ill to write back.

The movie also shows how the isolation and physical abuse that Lara is enduring has taken a toll on her mental health. In another scene, Lara is shown waving her left hand over a candle flame, until she deliberately lets the hand linger too long over the flame and she gets a minor burn.

The household gets a jolt from its usual monotony when a teenage girl (played by Devrim Lingnau), who’s around Lara’s age, is unexpectedly brought to the manor. She has been in a carriage accident, where she was the only passenger and the driver has died. The identity of this girl is a complete mystery.

A local physician named Doctor Renquist (played by Tobias Menzies) comes to the manor to examine this enigmatic girl and finds no visible injuries. However, she is mute. Is it because of the trauma of the accident or something else? The decision is made to keep this girl isolated in the house until she is well enough to speak and they can find out who her family is. Miss Tobias orders Lara to stay away from the girl.

Lara can’t understand why she can’t see or talk to this girl. In a private conversation with tells Miss Fontaine, Lara asks if the mystery girl is really Charlotte. Lara tells Miss Fontaine a theory that the girl might be Charlotte who could have miraculously recovered from her illness, and her carriage crashed in a rush to get to the manor.

Miss Fontaine firmly shuts down that theory because she says that if the girl were Charlotte, Lara’s father would have recognized her. This scene adeptly shows how Lara is so desperate for companionship that her imagination has gone wild about who this mystery girl might be. The expression on Miss Fontaine’s face is one of concern and dread.

Of course, the inevitable happens, and Lara visits the forbidden room where the mystery girl is. At first, the girl remains mute. But eventually, she shocks Lara by speaking to her. The girl still won’t say anything about who she is, including her name. Instead, she tells Lara that Lara can think of a name to call her. The mystery girl likes the name Carmilla, so they decide that will be her name.

Carmilla and Lara begin to meet in secret, and they become fast friends. Lara is entranced by Carmilla, who is a lot more worldly and sophisticated than Lara, even though Carmilla still withholds a lot of information about herself. And there’s a growing attraction between Lara and Carmilla that is more than platonic. They play games involving blood vows and breathing/air restriction that have not-so-subtle tones of eroticism, which is expressed when Lara and Carmilla begin kissing and and canoodling with each other.

Miss Fontaine senses that something has changed with Lara, because Lara is at an age when she will be curious about sex. The governess has also noticed how Lara is fascinated with the mystery girl in the home because Lara keeps wanting to talk to Miss Fontaine about the girl.

In a private conversation, Miss Fontaine decides to have a talk with Lara about sexuality without going into uncomfortable details. Miss Fontaine tells Lara that Lara will have certain feelings now that she’s becoming a young woman, but she must learn to control those feelings. The governess also opens up a little about her past (by hinting that she used to be promiscuous), by telling Lara that when she was younger, she got in trouble by acting on those feelings too much.

Miss Fontaine tells Lara that she wished that she knew when she was younger when she was acting on those feelings that all she really wanted was excitement. “Don’t confuse your feelings, Lara,” Miss Fontaine warns. “Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

One of the best aspects of “Carmilla” is that it doesn’t just take the easy route of focusing mainly on the budding relationship between Lara and Carmilla. The movie also masterfully shows how a control-freak like Miss Fontaine isn’t in control of her own life as much as she’d like to pretend that she is. It’s a subtle commentary on the rigid roles that were forced upon women in society back then.

In many ways, this stern governess (who does not seem to have any family or friends) is just as stifled and isolated as Lara—perhaps even more so, because Miss Fontaine’s services in the Bauer household will no longer be needed when Lara becomes an adult. (And in those days, it was common for girls to get married at the age of 15 or 16.) And because Miss Fontaine is a childless spinster, she’s somewhat of an outcast herself in that society. Miss Fontaine has less options than Lara, whose family wealth makes Lara’s future more secure than Miss Fontaine’s.

But, for now, Miss Fontaine sees a lot of her younger self in Lara—and she doesn’t like what she sees. And there’s an unspoken power struggle between Miss Fontaine and Carmilla over Lara’s attention, which motivates certain choices that are made by the end of the story. This movie version of “Camilla” also has more overt messaging than the novella about homophobia and how religion can play a role in mistreating others who are “different.”

“Carmilla” presents a mesmerizing Gothic atmosphere, due in large part to top-notch work from cinematographer Michael Wood, composer Philip Selway, production designer Alexandra Walker (a “Harry Potter” film alum) and Oscar-winning costume designer John Bright (“A Room With a View”). Selway, who’s the drummer for Radiohead, has his original, appropriately haunting song “Ghosts” playing during the end credits. All three actresses in the “Carmilla” power struggle—Raine as Miss Fontaine, Lingnau (who makes her feature-film debut in “Carmilla”) as Carmilla and Rae as Lara—do a superb job in their roles.

Writer/director Harris should be commended for making “Carmilla” a movie worth seeing for anyone who likes to immerse themselves in a world that can be gorgeous to look at but menacing at the same time. People who want to see an exact replication of the original “Carmilla” novella might be disappointed. However, today’s movie audiences have certain over-the-top bloody expectations for vampire films that would not have served this movie well. Thankfully, the filmmakers of this “Carmilla” movie did not take that predictable route, which would have cheapened the message of this movie.

Film Movement released “Carmilla” in select U.S. virtual cinemas on July 17, 2020.

Review: ‘Widow of Silence,’ starring Shilpi Marwaha, Ajay Courey, Noorjahan Mohammad Younus and Bilal Ahmed

July 17, 2020

by Carla Hay

Shilpi Marwaha in “Widow of Silence” (Photo courtesy of Barefoot Pictures/Oration Films)

“Widow of Silence” 

Urdu with subtitles

Directed by Praveen Morchhale

Culture Representation: Taking place in Kashmir, the dramatic film “Widow of Silence” has a predominately Kashmirian cast (with some Indians) representing the middle-class and working-class.

Culture Clash:  A woman whose husband has disappeared several years ago must fight against prejudice, financial pressures and sexual harassment for being in an ambiguous marital status known as “half-widow.”

Culture Audience: “Widow of Silence” will appeal primarily to people who are interested in independent arthouse films about South Asian cultures.

Ajay Chourey in “Widow of Silence” (Photo courtesy of Barefoot Pictures/Oration Films)

When a woman’s husband goes missing in Kashmir, her life can turn into a living hell of uncertainty and being targeted by predators. The harrowing drama “Widow of Silence” (written and directed by Praveen Morchhale) portrays with emotional urgency how having a vague marital status in this part of the world can ruin the lives of women and children whose household patriarchs have disappeared.

India’s and Pakistan’s decades-long brutal conflict over the republic of Kashmir has resulted in certain types of casualties that are rarely covered in mainstream media. These casualties are the marriages and identities of the countless wives whose husbands have disappeared, usually after the men were taken into custody by military or government officials. If these missing men are married, their wives who are left behind become “half-widows,” because it’s unknown if their husbands or alive or dead.

This uncertain marital status leaves the wives in precarious situations that make them vulnerable to con artists, corrupt government officials and members of society who will shun them. Even though “Widow of Silence” is a fictional drama, writer/director Morchhale based the story on what many real-life “half-widows” go through in Kashmir.

In “Widow of Silence,” Aasia Jilani (played by Shilpi Marwaha) is a law-abiding nursing attendant at a local hospital. She lives with her 11-year-old daughter named Inaya (played by Noorjahan Mohammad Younus) and mother-in-law (played by Zaba Banoo). But there’s a major void in their lives: Aasia’s devoted husband Mustaq Ahmad has been missing for seven years, after he was mysteriously taken into custody by Indian police, who claimed they needed to interrogate him.

Aasia refuses to believe that Mustaq is dead, but in Kashmirian society, having a missing husband means that Aasia is an outcast to many people. She can’t have legal claim to her husband’s property unless she files papers to officially declare him dead. That’s not an option for Aasia, since she believes that there’s a possibility that her husband is alive and will come back to her. She doesn’t want to divorce him because, in many Kashmirian communities, being a divorcée is an even bigger stigma than being a widow.

Because she is the only income earner in her household, Aasia is teetering on the brink of poverty and financial ruin. She and many other “half-widows” in the area are suffering through the same fate, as they deal with a government bureaucracy that is slow to respond to their needs. Appointments with government officials (who are almost always men) can take months to get. And when they do get an appointment with a government official, he could be corrupt and demand sexual favors.

That’s what happens to Aasia when she gets a long-awaited appointment with a smarmy government official (played by Ajay Chourey), who’s in charge of the local registrar that declares births and deaths. It should be noted that “Widow of Silence” writer/director made an interesting choice to give names to only two characters in this movie: Aasia and Inaya. It’s perhaps symbolic, because they are the only people who speak up and stand up for themselves when they are being harassed and bullied.

The government official starts his predatory sexual harassment by seeming to be concerned enough about Aasia’s situation that he wants to discuss options with her. He asks Aasia to tell him about her husband, and she says that Mustaq was an engineering graduate but unemployed at the time he disappeared. The government official’s questions become more probing: Was Aasia’s husband a military or political activist? Does she have plans to remarry?

Aasia says that Mustaq was not involved in any activism and that he was just a husband and father. Mustaq owns land totaling one-third of an acre, and Aasia wants ownership of the land transferred to her name. She says that she went through this same procedure four months ago and was already asked the same questions.

In this meeting, the government official recommends that Aasia take a half-widow’s pension. If she wants to get her husband’s property in her name, she would have to declare him dead. And if he’s declared dead, she would only be entitled to one-eighth of her husband’s savings. The rest of the money would go to his side of the family.

The government official tells her that government bureaucracy can be slow. But what he really means (and what he makes clear when he sexually harasses her later in a separate meeting) is that he can make things go quicker if she gives him the kind of attention that he wants. He suggests that she sell the property to someone he knows who’s willing to buy the land. And the government official wants a “commission” for this sale. Aasia balks at that idea.

And in a separate meeting that happens later in the movie, he tries to manipulate Aasia with money again, by telling her that government officials like him need extra funds to help take care of their own families. It’s an obvious request for a bribe, but Aasia doesn’t take the bait, and she tells him that she’s practically broke.

He then starts complimenting her effusively: “You are young and beautiful and should have some fun.” He reminds her again that bureaucracy can be slow, but he can find the time to help “young and beautiful ladies like you.” He places his hand on her shoulder and suggests that they meet at a hotel to further discuss how he can help Aasia get her husband’s death certificate.

Aasia knows exactly what’s going on, so she pushes his hand off of her, quickly gets up and leaves—making it clear that she’s not going to give in to this sexual harassment. She also doesn’t let him down easy, as she expresses her disgusted with the harassment and she’s not going to change her mind. And later, when he still persists, she slaps him in the face. But when someone this corrupt gets rejected in this manner, what does that mean for Aasia?

Meanwhile, Aasia is dealing with some big issues with the family members who live with her. Her ailing mother-in-law has become mute, ever since her son disappeared. Aasia’s daughter Inaya is being bullied at school by other students because Inaya is living with the stigma of having a missing father. Inaya has been getting in fights at school to defend herself, and she might get expelled for it if this fighting continues.

Although Inaya and the mother-in-law are not central characters in the story, “Widow of Silence” shows, in a heartbreaking manner, the emotional devastation that they also feel because of Mustaq’s disappearance. Inaya keeps asking her grandmother, “Grandma, was my father a bad person?”

Aasia chastises Inaya for asking this question when she knows that the grandmother has not spoken in seven years. Inaya’s response is chilling when she says that Aasia doesn’t really talk to Inaya either. It’s an example of how the disappearance has caused a rift between the mother and daughter.

Meanwhile, there are some other supporting characters whom Aasia is in regular contact with, and they give further context to the story. Aasia has a nurse co-worker (played by Tahmida Akter), who scolds Aasia (usually when they’re in the break room together) for not declaring her missing husband dead and moving on with her life.

Because Aasia doesn’t drive, she relies on shared rides and public transportation to get around town. One of the rideshare drivers who takes care of her transportation needs on a regular basis is a truck driver (played by Bilal Ahmed), whose friendly demeanor and sense of humor bring some light-hearted moments to this serious drama. (Ahmed is a real-life car driver in Kashmir. According the production notes for “Widow of Silence,” all of the movie’s cast members, except Marwaha and Chourey, are non-professional actors, because writer/director Morchalla wanted real-life Kashmir people in the movie.)

And just because Aasia’s marital status is in limbo doesn’t mean that she’s given up on love. She has a boyfriend (played by Ahsan Bismil), and they’ve been semi-secretly dating for three years. He wants to marry her, but she’s very reluctant to take the necessary steps to declare that her marriage to Mustaq is over. In Kashmir, a “half-widow” can get married to someone else if her missing husband remains missing after four years.

And then there’s Aasia’s father (played by Habibulla), who tells her that she should get married to her suitor. Aasia’s father offers to raise Inaya with Aasia’s mother, because he believes that most men don’t want to marry a widow with children. Aasia still clings to the idea that her husband could be found alive.

When Aasia tells her father that she’s gotten a tip from someone that Mustaq is likely being held in a prison, her father scolds her for being gullible. He reminds her that she’s already checked hospitals and prisons multiple times and is probably being put on a wild goose chase from someone trying to con money out of her: “Why do you trust these informants?” he asks Aasia. “They have made it a business.”

“Widow of Silence” portrays with emotionally wrenching detail how difficult it is for someone in Aasia’s situation to hold her life together while trying to search for a missing husband and dealing with the relentless problems that come from being a “half-widow” in a society that treats women and children as second-class citizens. Her emotional isolation is palpable when she says at one point: “Life is suffocating, but I’m alive.”

As the emotionally torn Aasia, Marwaha gives a powerfully understated performance as someone whose resolve and sanity are constantly questioned and tested as she goes through this ordeal. This isn’t a weepy or hysterical melodrama, because “Widow of Silence” accurately portrays how women in this culture, more so than in Western cultures, are often told to keep their misery to themselves.

As the title of the movie implies, half-widows are expected to suffer in silence. There are no counselors or therapists for women like Aasia. There are no attorneys rushing to help her. In telling this impactful story, writer/director Morchhale gives a brutally honest depiction of what countless half-widows endure when their husbands are taken away by the government, and what can happen when that pain is allowed to fester and is pushed to the brink.

Oration Films released “Widow of Silence” in select U.S. virtual cinemas on July 10, 2020.

Review: ‘We Are Freestyle Love Supreme,’ starring Lin-Manuel Miranda, Anthony Veneziale, Christopher Jackson, Thomas Kail, Utkarsh Ambudkar, Bill Sherman and Chris Sullivan

July 17, 2020

by Carla Hay

Lin-Manuel Miranda, Chris Sullivan, Anthony Veneziale, Utkarsh Ambudkar, Andrew Bancroft, Bill Sherman, Christopher Jackson and Arthur Lewis in “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” (Photo courtesy of Hulu)

“We Are Freestyle Love Supreme”

Directed by Andrew Fried

Culture Representation: Taking place primarily in New York City and partially in the United Kingdom, the documentary “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” tells the story of the multiracial musical improvisational group Freestyle Love Supreme, whose most famous member is Tony-winning star Lin-Manuel Miranda.

Culture Clash: The members of Freestyle Love Supreme struggled for years to make a living from their craft, and then the group’s loyalty and work schedules were tested after Miranda and musical director Thomas Kail went on to mega-success with the Tony-winning musicals “In the Heights” and “Hamilton.”

Culture Audience: “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” will appeal primarily to people who are fans of Lin-Manuel Miranda and musical theater that includes hip-hop.

Lin-Manuel Miranda, Christopher Jackson and Anthony Veneziale in the mid-2000s in “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” (Photo courtesy of Hulu)

The feel-good documentary “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” shows what can happen when several tight-knit friends in a musical improvisational group manage to keep the group going for several years, despite the members’ individual careers and personal lives going on divergent paths. Directed by Andrew Fried, who began filming footage for the documentary in 2005, “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” is a breezy ride through the group’s story, even if it it feels like a lot of inevitable behind-the-scenes turmoil was deliberately left out of the film. The documentary includes exclusive interviews (everyone in the group is interviewed separately), as well as archival on-stage and off-stage footage, spanning from the mid-2000s to the group’s stint on Broadway in 2019.

Freestyle Love Supreme’s most famous member is Lin-Manuel Miranda, the Tony-winning star/creator of the stage musicals “In the Heights” and “Hamilton.” Miranda (whose nickname in the group is Lin-Man) is an original member of Freestyle Love Supreme, which was formed in New York City in 2004. But the documentary shows that the origins of Freestyle Love Supreme really began in 1999, during a road trip taken by group co-founder Anthony Veneziale (also known as Two-Touch) and Thomas “Tommy” Kail, the group’s musical director who went on to direct the original Broadway productions of “In the Heights” and “Hamilton,” as well as most of Freestyle Love Supreme’s stage shows.

According to what Kail says in the documentary, he and Veneziale (who met when they were students at Wesleyan University) went on a road trip from New York City to Iowa, to help a friend make an independent film. During the trip, the only way they could stay awake was by listening to the B-side of the Daft Punk song “Around the World.”

“Anthony freestyled for four straight hours,” says Kail of that road trip. “That, in some way, was the seed for Freestyle Love Supreme.” Freestyle Love Supreme then became a collective of friends who would get together at the Drama Book Shop, which was their creative “lab,” according to Kail. Although Kail isn’t an on-stage performer for Freestyle Love Supreme, he is credited with being the behind-the-scenes architect of the group’s career.

Freestyle Love Supreme then honed their improvisational skills so that their on-stage act became randomly choosing words volunteered by the show’s audience, and then making up hip-hop-infused, often-comedic stories about those words right there on the spot. Veneziale (who also co-founded the improv FLS Academy) is the group’s emcee, who interviews audience members during the show and brings some audience members on stage. This highly interactive format makes every Freestyle Love Supreme show truly unique, which is in contrast to the traditional theater format of doing the same show for every performance.

The other original members of Freestyle Love Supreme are Christopher Jackson (also known as C-Jack); Bill Sherman (also known as King Sherman); Chris Sullivan (also known as Shockwave); and Arthur Lewis (also known as Arthur the Geniuses). Miranda and Kail went on to collaborate on “In the Heights” (which went to Broadway in 2008) and “Hamilton” (which made its Broadway debut in 2015), with both musicals including Jackson (who is Miranda’s best friend) as a co-star.

After the success of “In the Heights” and “Hamilton” made Miranda, Jackson and Kail too busy for Freestyle Love Supreme on a regular basis, Freestyle Love Supreme added new members to the group. The documentary does a very good job of putting a spotlight on each member, so that people can know what their unique contributions are to Freestyle Love Supreme. (Freestyle Love Supreme has also had numerous guest performers, including Daveed Diggs and Wayne Brady.)

Miranda, who is a self-described “theater geek,” is shown to be an energetic optimist but also a perfectionist who can be very hard on himself. Jackson, who is more laid-back than Miranda, is described as the “dad” of the group, since he’s the oldest member and the first member of Freestyle Love Supreme to get married and have children.

Sherman, who plays keyboards and has a goofy sense of humor, used to be Kail’s roommate and remains very close to Kail. Sullivan, who does most of Freestyle Love Supreme’s beatboxing, is the “actual musical heartbeat of the group,” says Kail. Lewis, who plays keyboards, is described as the group’s most intellectually gifted member and “the ethereal one” of Freestyle Love Supreme, according to Kail.

Freestyle Love Supreme’s newer members are also given a spotlight: Utkarsh Ambudkar (also known as UTK The INC) is described by Miranda as “the best nuts-to-bolts rapper in the group.” James Monroe Iglehart (also known as J-Soul) is praised by multiple people as being the best singer in the group. Andrew Bancroft (also known as Jelly Donut) seems to be in awe of his group mates and says he still can’t believe that he’s in Freestyle Love Supreme.

And by the time that Freestyle Love Supreme began headlining on Broadway, the group had added its first permanent female member: Aneesa Folds (also known as Young Nees), who expresses how star-struck and honored she is to be in Freestyle Love Supreme. Why did it take so long to add a woman to the group? Probably because after the #MeToo movement happened, Freestyle Love Supreme wanted deflect any criticism that this group deliberately excludes people who aren’t of the male gender.

It probably never crossed their minds to invite women into their group before, because it’s clear from the archival footage that Freestyle Love Supreme operated very much like a fraternity, but not in a mean-spirited way. However, because of heightened awareness of how gender discrimination against people who aren’t cisgender males has been an ongoing problem in the entertainment industry (and society in general), it no doubt prompted Freestyle Love Supreme to take a hard look at their own decision making in whom they were inviting to be a part of their exclusive club.

The documentary doesn’t call attention to why Freestyle Love Supreme was a male-only group for about 15 years, probably because the male members of the group don’t want to address this issue on camera. Instead, the movie puts an emphasis on all the camaraderie they have—perhaps a little too much emphasis, to the point where it looks sugarcoated. There’s a lot of screen time devoted to soundbites where the members of Freestyle Love Supreme praise themselves and each other.

Jackson comments on how Freestyle Love Supreme is a privilege of being able to work with his closest friends: “If more people had this experience, truly, the world would be a better place.” Ambudkar says that he felt an instant connection to the members of Freestyle Love Supreme: “Whatever Freestyle was doing, it fit me like a well-worn hoodie.”

Miranda says that in the group’s early days, there was a real struggle to build a fan base, but the audience grew when the show improved and because Freestyle Love Supreme didn’t give up: “We had to work hard [for an audience]. The show worked.”

Some of the documentary’s best archival footage is of a pivotal point in the early career of Freestyle Love Supreme, when the group was invited to perform at the 2005 Edinburgh Fringe Festival in Scotland. No one knew at the time that Miranda was three years away from finding Broadway fame and acclaim with “In the Heights.” But during this trip to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, the members of Freestyle Love Supreme considered it to be the highlight of their careers so far.

There’s a real infectious joy in this footage that shows their youthful optimism, as they roam the streets of Edinburgh and soak up Scottish culture. The documentary also includes footage of the group reading their first negative review together. And even that moment of the group getting some scathing criticism has a lot of humor and shows how closely bonded the group members are.

A present-day Miranda looks back on that time with a lot of fondness in the documentary. He says that even though all of the members of Freestyle Love Supreme were financially broke at the time, and their futures were uncertain, it was one of the happiest times of his life. “Everything was happening, but nothing was happening,” Miranda quips.

Some other great archival footage is of Miranda and Kail walking through New York City’s Times Square, not long before “In the Heights” was scheduled to begin previews on Broadway. Kail and Miranda look up in awe and excitement at the Richard Rodgers Theatre, which had the “In the Heights” billboard and marquee already prepared.

In this archival footage, Kail and Miranda joke about how people in Times Square might or might not recognize them. Kail, who resembles former “American Idol” finalist Justin Guarini, says that people probably think he’s “that guy from ‘American Idol.'” Kail also jokes that people will probably think that Miranda looks like a “Mexican Bud Bundy,” referring to Miranda’s slight resemblance to actor David Faustino, who had the role of bratty son Bud Bundy in the sitcom “Married With Children.” (Miranda’s heritage is actually Puerto Rican, not Mexican.)

All joking aside, a group of people working together this long can’t be immune to jealousies, rivalries and conflicts. Although the documentary acknowledges that Miranda is the most famous member of Freestyle Love Supreme (after his Broadway success, he became a star and a producer in movies and television), the other group members who talk about it for the documentary only express happiness for Miranda. If they have any envy that Miranda’s career has skyrocketed, compared to the careers of other group members, it’s not shown in this movie.

However, there is some acknowledgement that Freestyle Love Supreme did go through a less-than-smooth adjustment period when it became obvious that in order for the group to keep going, certain group members (namely Miranda, Jackson and Kail) would not be as available as they once were, due to their busy Broadway careers. Another big shift in the group’s dynamics occurred when Veneziale moved to San Francisco (because of his wife’s graduate studies) and started a family there.

As a result of that relocation to the other side of the United States, Veneziale and Kail, who used to be best friends, say they became estranged from each other, and their relationship hasn’t really been the same since. Veneziale describes Kail in the early days of Freestyle Love Supreme: “He was my co-conspirator in making things.” Kail says that Veneziale is the “guts and blood” and the “engine” of Freestyle Love Supreme. However, it’s obvious that there’s still tension between Kail and Veneziale, because they choose their words very carefully when talking about each other, while expressing regret that they aren’t close friends anymore.

The documentary doesn’t bring up personal problems in Freestyle Love Supreme until the last third of the movie. Ambudkar opens up about his alcoholism and how it affected him and his role in the group. Ambudkar says that the success of “Hamilton,” which made Miranda even less available to Freestyle Love Supreme than ever before, forced Ambudkar to take a hard look at where his life was headed, and it motivated Ambudkar to get clean and sober.

The clips of Freestyle Love Supreme performing on stage, especially on Broadway, are absolutely electric and elevate this documentary, which plays it very safe overall. “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” gives the impression that it doesn’t want to divulge a lot of the realistic behind-the-scenes ego clashes in the group, for fear that it would mess up the “lovefest” vibe that the documentary is trying to convey. It’s why viewers of this movie get a lot of effusively upbeat soundbites that are a lot like this one from Ambudkar when he describes Freestyle Love Supreme: “It’s truly about embracing and celebrating the human experience.”

Hulu premiered “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” on July 17, 2020.

Copyright 2017-2024 Culture Mix
CULTURE MIX