Je te mangerais [2009)

To feel unwanted.

Oversharing.

Too much information.

A strangely engrossing film.

Judith Davis is excellent and beautiful.

Isild Le Besco has the Kim Novak creepiness from Vertigo.

And this is a similar kind of “love” story.

Toxic.

Similar to Alicia Vikander in Pure.

But creepier.

Obsession.

Kind of like Blue is the Warmest Color meets Fatal Attraction.

I guess.

There are some compelling moments.

Judith Davis is a convincing piano student.

She plays the role exceedingly-well.

Which is the main reason this film is even watchable.

Even the music hints at Vertigo here and there.

But mostly it is a smattering of classics.

Ravel’s Pavane.

Schumann’s Carnaval.

Chopin.

This film should be easier to figure out, but for some reason it isn’t.

Which is why I kept watching it.

Kind of like the coronavirus.

I would normally have a theory of highest likelihood by this point, but I’m not sure I do.

Did the New World Order release the coronavirus as a smokescreen for imminent Deep State arrests in the U.S.?

Certainly a possibility.

Cui bono?

Who can ride this thing out?

Bill Gates?

Those of his ilk?

Why has Seattle been hit hardest of all places in the U.S.?

And why in God’s name have the seemingly irrelevant locales of Iran (and especially) Italy been dragged into this to such magnitude?

Is this current coronavirus a naturally-occurring catastrophe or a bioweapon release?

Or is it somewhere in between on that continuum?

China would stand to gain from the surveillance crackdown after all of the previous year’s trouble with the peons in Hong Kong.

No mass gatherings allowed for health reasons, no protests.

But I think it must be more than that.

Or different.

Some have theorized that the U.S. released the virus in Wuhan during the recent World Military Games which was held in that city.

It’s possible.

But to what end?

At the present time, this plague appears to be crippling all countries about equally (in terms of fear, especially).

China’s economic base is surely being affected negatively.

And that is, in the short term, very bad for most of the world (including the U.S.).

In the long term, however, that might be a very good thing for the U.S.

Is this the impetus needed to actually “move” factories “back” from China to the U.S.?

Perhaps.

Are we dealing with war here?

Is it China vs. the U.S.?

Russia has had very few cases (suspiciously).

But as false flags go (Pentagon), we know that these kind of stratagems necessitate casualties on the side of the terror’s author.

Wuhan has a very high-level virus research laboratory.

This has been pointed out to give credence to a U.S.-authored attack.

But I come back to Derrida.

Deconstruction.

What doesn’t fit?

Where does the text fall apart?

Upon which part of this grand story does the meaning hinge?

For me, that hinge is Italy.

Which might bring us to state terror in another age.

Operation Gladio.

Let us ask this question:

does the American (globalist) Deep State still have enough supporters (particularly within the CIA) to facilitate an attack which usurps all news coverage for years to come?

I would guess that the answer is yes.

So are we looking at another 9/11 here?

Is this, once again, rogue elements within the CIA which have unleashed geopolitical chaos?

Certainly a strong possibility.

And there is another level.

We are seeing it in Italy as we are seeing it in China.

Forty percent of the Italian economy is dependent upon the production of Lombardy (Milan) and Venice (including the other regions in that area of Northern Italy now under a “lockdown” quarantine).  Those cities and towns and their 16 million inhabitants (a quarter of the Italian population) will be hard-pressed to produce such value as they normally do because of this present hardship.

Italy has (ironically) also been the one area of Europe which has been up for grabs between the capitalist West and the communist East.

That was what Operation Gladio was all about.

Carry out terror and blame the communists.

Get scared voters to elect capitalists.

That is the simplified version.

In the past it was by way of bombings and kidnappings and assassinations.

Is Italy still that important of a piece on the grand chessboard?

I would think not, but I could be wrong.

Which brings us to a religious component.

Italy is The Vatican.

Though they are separate countries, they are inextricably intertwined.

And we have seen the trouble the Vatican has had with Cardinal Pell and other sex-abusing priests.

It has risen to a fever pitch in recent years.

Which gives rise to wholly different theory.

That the current outbreak is indeed authored by the U.S., but not by the Deep State.

Is the coronavirus bioweapon release truly a power move to “drain the swamp” globally?

It may very well be.

Which brings us back to Iran.

Hit China (who bears every indication of being an enemy of the U.S.).  Hit Iran (which is quite vocally a self-avowed enemy of the U.S.).  Hit The Vatican (which may be part and parcel of a larger, global child-abusing regime).

In the end, you will have to find the information for yourself.

Pieczenik is strangely silent.

And I will offer just this.

You Will Be Mine is not a great movie.

But it is not a horrible movie.

It is possibly worth watching.

It is also, possibly, worth not watching.

In the end, the crazy collapse.

And we are left with a smile.

Did she love her and just remember a happy memory (getting drunk on vodka at the kitchen table)?

Or is she just glad to be rid of her?

 

-PD

Homeless to Harvard: The Liz Murray Story [2003)

Happy Birthday to Thora Birch, my favorite actress of all time!

Yes, I know…I know.

A film critic whose favorite actress is a young 35-year-old whipper snapper???

Yes.

That’s alright.

Laugh at me.

If the question was, “Who was your favorite classic Hollywood actress?,” then I would answer, “Lauren Bacall”.

But I said favorite actress of all time.

You can search my “Thora” category here on my site for why exactly this actress is my favorite.

Because otherwise, we’re going to be here all day.

And I have a movie to review!

One of my favorites:  Homeless to Harvard.

It is, indeed …The Liz Murray Story, but I will be using the shortened title hereafter for brevity’s sake.

It is my contention (and I have made the point elsewhere…probably on this very site of mine) that Thora Birch produced a trilogy of acting performances which are more-or-less analogous to Bob Dylan’s classic trilogy.

Let’s start with Dylan.

The three (at unity from a similarity of intense expression):

Bringing It All Back Home

Highway 61 Revisited 

and

Blonde on Blonde

And now the Thora films which correspond in my mind:

American Beauty

Ghost World

and

Homeless to Harvard

Sure…Birch didn’t direct these films.

But her acting is so strong, she might as well have.

By this point she was no longer a prodigy.

She was a mature actress.  A master of her craft.

And the story here is one to really sink teeth in.

[In which.]

We recently touched on homelessness here in the review of Alicia Vikander’s stellar turn as Katarina from Till det som är vackert.

Pure.

But the esthetics of Homeless to Harvard are different.

This isn’t European arthouse.  It’s a Lifetime made-for-TV film.

But don’t go running anywhere!!!

This is as gritty as any Lou Reed tale.

And it’s all real.

Too pure.

Heroin addict parents.

Mother schizophrenic.

Blindness.

Genetic.

Mother with HIV.

Father with AIDS.

Vice versa ice Ursa.

Father in homeless shelter.

Mother wielding knife.  Vomiting.

Alcoholism.

Really appealing, eh?

But you gotta stick with it.

This isn’t Darren Aronofsky mise-en-scène.

It’t not, “Let’s win an award at Sundance.”  Or, “Let’s sweep at Cannes.”

It’s more like one of Aesop’s fables.

It’s the message, man!

And so first, let’s honor the director.

Peter Levin.

Who knew a television film could be so artful?

Well, when you combine the history of Histoire(s) du cinéma with the precedent of Twin Peaks, you should know by now that television can produce good stuff.

Hell…

Your TV can even WATCH YOU! (as per WikiLeaks Vault7).

But I digress…

The weeper (no masonry) sob story…had me crying in my Junior Mints…we must attribute to the excellent writing of Ronni Kern.

Who the hell is Ronni Kern?!?

Male?  Female?

I’ve had less trouble finding the gender of completely unknown foreign movie people.

But Kern is pretty invisible on the Internet.

And maybe there’s a point here.

  1.  It doesn’t fucking matter.
  2. You should judge someone on their work, not their gender.

Hopefully Ms. Birch will appreciate this flash of liberalism should she read this review.

[I’m not holding my breath]

But we have just celebrated International Women’s Day.

And the fact that Birch’s character here is a “feminist” is a running pseudo-joke.

Which brings us to the performances.

Michael Riley is stellar, stellar (I know…) as Liz’s father Peter.

Kudos to the styling department.

That beard.  And that hair!

Crazy, man, crazy!!

But Riley’s performance is really special.

It touched my heart.

Long ago.

When I first saw this film.

And dare I say, this movie made me appreciate my own family.

It made me miss my folks.

And so I salute Peter Riley and Lifetime and all involved for that effect on my heart.

Jennifer Pisana is really fabulous as the young Liz Murray here.

It’s an unenviable task.

To precede Thora Birch’s entrance.

But Pisana is indispensable to this little masterpiece.

Those sweaters.

And the full pronunciations…”Mommy”…”Daddy”…

Ms. Pisana affects the necessary naïveté to be juxtaposed against the sad schizophrenia of Kelly Lynch (who plays Liz’s mom).

And Lynch is great.

Think Cries and Whispers.

[cris et chuchotements…(( (( ((…et chuchotements]

Robert Bockstael does a fine job as Liz’s teacher David.

Very convincing.  Excellent craftsmanship.

Makyla Smith is piquant in her depiction of Liz’s best friend Chris.

[God…the Magic Marker…and the pine box…fuuuuuuck]

Yes, friends…this is Lifetime Television.

So the brisure (bonjour, monsieur Derrida) is “crap”.

“Crap happens.”

Whoa…watch thy mouth, Kelly Lynch!

So again…Peter Levin does a fantastic job shoehorning a true X-file into PG territory.

We see a syringe here and there.  A tourniquet.

Riley cleaning a spoon.

But the real heartbreak is Wheat Chex with tap water.

Yeah…

Hello Gummo.

Ellen Page has a small role here.

And she’s good.

Fine actress.

But we’ve been waiting to roll out the big gun.

Thora Birch.

On this, her birthday, I am only just now getting towards a handful of reviews honoring her unique thespian gift.

What to say?

That every look is magic?

That every glance is gold?

That she has crafted her microexpressions in solitude…and wielded them like an Arthurian sword for the duration of this flick?

Yes, yes, and yes.

[and an Oxford comma]

Because kids take it for granted.

Rich kids.

Harvard.

Penn.

Princeton.

Maybe…

But even more so the lesser ivied walls.

I won’t name names.

But the spoiled kids.

Not turning in homework.

Bragging about shortcuts.

Those, ultimately, will be life’s losers.

But Liz Murray worked her butt off to get into Harvard.

From sleeping on the B Train.

Four years of high school in two.

And Thora Birch has worked her butt off too.

She hasn’t gotten the roles her talent deserves.

But the roles she has gotten, she has largely smashed out of the park.

Like the Babe Ruth of leading ladies.

And so there are other actresses I admire.

But Thora Birch was the first.

The first to give me that magical feeling which only Neil Young has adequately described:

“I fell in love with the actress/She was playin’ a part that I could understand”.

Happy Birthday, Thora Birch!

And may all your days and films be filled with the joy which you have put into the world through your cinematic brilliance.

-PD

Till det som är vackert [2009)

This is a perfect, imperfect film.

Like Russell’s paradox.

And I hope director Lisa Langseth won’t go all Frege on me and jump out a window.

Ah!

You know…

I have spoiled nothing.

And my words are almost completely inconsequential.

But similar things have been said about La Règle du jeu.

And I disagree with that.

In 1939, Jean Renoir made an unqualified (perfect) masterpiece with that film.

I qualified it only to distinguish from my initial example.

And so Pure (the title of this Swedish film which is currently on Netflix in the U.S.) is much like Asia Argento’s almost-masterpiece Incompresa.

I will be quite blunt.

Lisa Langseth stretches in almost the exact same dimension that Argento did with her fine film.

But the real similarity is acting perfection.

For a young child, Giulia Salerno was magnificent (really!) in Argento’s film.

And so Ms. Argento had the secret weapon.

A (very young) actress capable of cine-magic.

Ms. Langseth was blessed with more-or-less the same thing.

But even better.

[perhaps because the actress was a little older and more experienced]

Alicia Vikander makes Till det som är vackert go.

I mean, really…this is an acting performance unlike any other.

And so my only gripe with Ms. Langseth, the director, is that she stretched the story TOO FAR.

But that’s ok.

Because, you know what?  Maybe I’m wrong.

Langseth and Argento both seem to be trying to tell every story they’ve ever lived…IN ONE FILM.

Argento is the guiltier party.

For most of Pure, Langseth sticks to a taut plot.

Buttressed by Vikander’s exquisite acting, the sum total is ecstasy.

And so, I find myself reacting against the Hitchcock tendency in two films.

Some directors NEED a good dose of Hitchcock.

Wes Anderson, for example.

That guy is so saccharine…that when the fingers come off in Grand Budapest, we finally have a filmmaker.

But Langseth and Argento are telling GRUELING stories throughout (in Pure and Misunderstood, respectively).

And so the heavy bass note…the one which when slammed births the 9th harmonic…it doesn’t work here.

Because the tritone.

To progress through the harmonic series.

And resolve on a tritone.

It takes a special auteur to do such.

And these two ladies are not the dodecaphonists to do so.

They have not worked out a coherent system to justify their heart-ripping atonality.

But fear not.

Pure is so, so, so worth watching!

This is as close as a film can get to masterpiece while still being flawed.

And it’s so very close, I’m wondering whether the flawed one is me.

[no doubt]

Let me correct the record (ouch…David “Scumbag” Brock)…

We get noodles with ketchup.

I mean, this film is Gummo real.

So I want to give some BIG compliments.

Till det som är vackert is the best Swedish film ever made by anyone not named Ingmar Bergman.

In fact, it’s BETTER than several of Bergman’s films.

Shall I name names?

Pure is worlds (WORLDS) better than Fanny and Alexander.

Bergman was in poseur mode.

That flick is so overrated.

And Lisa Langseth totally smokes (eats the lunch of) Bergman.

Further, Till det som är vackert is (in my humble, masculine opinion) the greatest feminist film since 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days…and in some ways EVEN BETTER than that timeless masterpiece.

And so, in general, I bow down in worship to Pure.

We have homelessness.

We have mental illness.

We have resilience.

Naturalism.  Grit.  The bird-soul of music…

The only thing we needed was an editor.

To say.

Cut.

About 20 minutes before the end.

Because Ms. Langseth wants to give us redemption.

She just seems to have her Raskolnikov in the wrong pocket.

It’s ok.

I’m the daftest son of a bitch on the planet.

One last thing…

This movie moved me so much.

The bulk of this film.

Did something to me.

Therapeutic.

And sublimely enlightening.

And so I thank God for Lisa Langseth and Alicia Vikander.

God bless you.

Thank you for making this kind of art.

As Nick Cave sang,

“It’s beauty that’s gonna save the world now”.

-PD