By Mark Kermode
FILM: Ain’t Them Bodies Saints
CAST: Ben Foster, Casey Affleck, Keith Carradine, Rooney Mara
DIRECTION: David Lowery
Comparing the work of fledgling film-makers to the sacred cows of the past rarely does them any favours, but writer-director David Lowery’s second feature is so firmly grounded in the soil of Terrence Malick’s Badlands, Robert Altman’s McCabe & Mrs Miller and Arthur Penn’sBonnie and Clyde that it seems impolite not to acknowledge their influence from the outset.
Set in the ethereal terrain of 1970s Texas Hill Country, and shot in the nostalgic natural light of a seemingly eternal magic hour, this beautiful, if somewhat self-aware, cinematic ballad sings of a doomed romance between two young outlaws, separated in the opening act by capture which leaves him behind bars and her holding the baby.
Facing 25-to-life after taking the rap for shooting a lawman, Bob Muldoon (Casey Affleck) dreams of being reunited with his partner in love and crime, his pencil-scrawled prison letters becoming the source of much sonorous narration.
But as the responsibilities of motherhood start to bite, will former wild child Ruth (Rooney Mara) continue to wait for the object of her adolescent obsession, or will she be wooed by the more down-to-earth affections of decent lawman Patrick (Ben Foster), whom she has already inadvertently winged?
Describing his paean to the waning mythology of the west as being “about archetypes who get worn down by time and turn into real people”, Lowery conjures a moody, melancholic and unapologetically mumblesome portrait of arcane antiheroes caught in the dying breaths of an old world which is evaporating around them, vanishing into the twilight mist.
Crucially, Lowery isn’t interested in the mechanics of botched heists or prison breaks, which are depicted fleetingly and elliptically — his focus is on the aftermath of such traditionally centre-stage events.
Having started life as an “action” script from which Lowery became “distracted”, the entire film seems to be taking place in the wake of something which has already gone, sifting through fragmentary memories which linger like dust in the air, caught in the handsome half-light by award-winning cinematographer Bradford Young.
When there is dialogue, it’s presented in long, languorous takes, the three principals cast not only for their naturalistic acting chops, but also their fittingly anachronistic features. Affleck in particular is perfect as the charismatic Bob, a young gun intoxicated by the romance of banditry who seems to be starring in his very own movie.
Mara is terrific, too, blending fragility with a fierce and growing sense of self-reliance, her emotions deliberately unreadable, her hollow eyes always withholding rather than emoting.
The real magic, however, lies in the music, which slips seamlessly from Ben Foster strumming a child’s acoustic guitar in his bedroom to the strains of a banjo being picked in a barroom, with linking themes blurring the boundaries between incidental accompaniment and on-set sound.
The astute use of folk and bluegrass defines the palette of this film as much as the acting or the cinematography.
On the downside, there’s no doubt that the noodling pace of this Sundance-supported yarn will alienate as many viewers as it entices. Although a mid-point jailbreak sets in motion a trail of violent revenge, this narrative element remains oddly incidental, existing more to introduce the spectre of an old-fashioned posse blowing into town, and to allow Keith Carradine to indulge in some talismanic storytelling about the history of an old pistol whose barrel now points to a bygone age. Even when laying the groundwork for future events, Lowery’s eyes and ears are tuned to the past.
On the evidence of Ain’t Them Bodies Saints, while the western may not be alive and kicking, its ghosts still haunt the landscape of modern cinema, drifting across the misty screens of the 21st century like a distant song — half forgotten, yet still remembered, and very much loved. — The Observer/Guardian News
Watch this one for athletic moves!
By Annlee Ellingson
FILM: Battle of The Year
CAST: Josh Holloway, Chris Brown
DIRECTION: Benson Lee
Battle of the Year isn’t so much inspired by director Benson Lee’s 2007 break-dancing documentary Planet B-Boy as it is an ad for it. Not only is the previous well-regarded film referred to by name — “You’ve seen Planet B-Boy, right?” — but footage from it is used intermittently throughout. Add in overt product placement from Sony, Puma and Braun — star Josh Holloway actually “shaves” his considerable stubble with an electric razor — and this 3-D spectacle is less the dance movie that’s going to make b-boying cool again than a shill for sponsors’ gear.
Holloway plays Jason “Wonder Bread” Blake, a one-time b-boy, we’re told (although that’s not remotely believable), and champion basketball coach recruited to assemble an American dream team to take to the titular tournament in Montpellier, France.
His biggest challenge is getting his ego-driven dancers like goofball Rooster (singer Chris Brown) and assiduous Do Knock (real-life b-boy Jonathan “Do Knock” Cruz) to perform as a team. Thus, Battle eschews the Romeo-and-Juliet romance of other dance movies for the structure of an inspiring sports flick.
Still, it’s no less formulaic, with cliché-ridden dialogue and a predictable plot offering the flimsiest framework on which to hang the dance scenes’ feats of incredible athleticism and artistry - a philosophic contrast worthy of much more discussion than the perfunctory Magic Johnson metaphor that Blake tenders. — Los Angeles Times/MCT
Take against bullies
By Nancy Churnin
FILM: Contest
CAST: Kenton Duty, Danny Flaherty, Katherin McNamara, Mary Beth Peil, Kyle Dean Massey
DIRECTION: Anthony Joseph Guinta
K |
enton Duty plays the bully in Contest, a two-hour original film. But Kenton, 18, actually has a lot more experience about what it’s like to be bullied — which is what happened to him through elementary and middle school.
“I was always getting picked on for being short and having food allergies,” he says on the phone from Michigan.
“I have an ID card from when I was 12, and you can see I was 4 foot 9 and 70 to 85 pounds. I was drawn to this script because I feel that this is a story that needed to be told and it’s done in a way where it’s not trying to force feed you anti-bully propaganda.”
Just for the record, Kenton shot up to 6’3 in high school.
In Contest Duty plays a high school star swimmer and bully who pretends to befriend one of his victims in order to hold on to his scholarship.
Kenton, who continues to be passionate about his music career, sings his own song in the movie called Breaking the Surface, which also performed at Arthur Ashe Kids Day at the US Open.
The song, available on iTunes, plays off his character being a swimmer who breaks the surface of the water and how he wants to break through the surface as a person as well.
Although Lost fans will always remember him best as young Jacob in the hit series. Kenton himself had no idea he was anything more than a “young boy” when he played the part and was as surprised as everyone else when he sat with his grandmother, a fellow “Lostie” fan, and they saw the story unfold on his episode.
His family still has a home in Plano and his sisters go to school here, with his parent taking turns, one staying with Kenton in Los Angeles and the other in Plano with his sisters.
One of the things he’s loved best about doing the movie is the insight and compassion it’s given him about the kids who bullied him way back when.“The lightbulb came off when I realised there is always a reason for everything. There’s a backstory for every bully. There’s a reason why they feel they need to have that power, that control over other people.
Often it’s because like my character in the movie, Matt, he needs control over other kids because he doesn’t have control over his own life. I still have my close-knit group. I think that’s what everyone needs.” — The Dallas Morning News/MCT
DVDs courtesy:
Saqr Entertainment Stores, Doha