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The Year in Lists, Part II: Filmbrain's Top Ten of 2005

Despite what many others are claiming, 2005 was not a stellar year for film (for me at least). Compared to last year, where several films had me over the moon, there wasn't that one film that stood out far above all others, screaming to be #1. Ranking the ten films below was a game of endless shuffling. This year's batch of top ten lists seems even more uniform than usual, which leads me to conclude that the pickins' was mighty slim. The endless praise being heaped on Brokeback Mountain has steered me away from it, at least until the hype dies down. As for History of Violence, yes, I enjoyed it, but it seemed slight after seeing Caché just a few days after. Once again, troubled, damaged, and/or otherwise doomed relationships are at the heart of half the films on my list. Come to think of it the most upbeat film is about a political assassination. Three cheers for despair. . . In reverse order: 10. The New World. Terrence Malick, USA I thank my lucky stars I caught this before Malick snipped twenty minutes out of it, and you have just a few days left to do the same. One thing I forgot to mention in my review is the soul-stirring use of Wagner's overture to Das Rheingold -- a piece of music that could easily come off as pretentious in the wrong hands. Here it sends shivers down the spine. 9. Head-On. Fatih Akin, Germany There's an incredible re-birth taking place in German cinema, with an ever-increasing number of new directors (many from Berlin) who are turning out intelligent, challenging, offbeat fare that harkens back to the days of a young Herzog, Wenders or Fassbinder. Though many have not yet found their way to the States, we were lucky enough to get Fatih Akin's Head-On, a gritty, unlikely love story that contains more than its fair share of sternum kickers. (Got that, Dobbs?) 8. Kings and Queen. Arnaud Desplechin, France Though I still prefer My Sex Life..., Desplechin's latest finds the auteur at his peak. 150 minutes of solid character-driven dialog without a single unnecessary line. Plus, it unironically appropriates Moon River -- now that's quite a feat. 7. 5x2. Francois Ozon, France There's an extra feature on the 5x2 DVD that has Valeria Bruni Tedeschi and Stéphane Freiss auditioning for Ozon by reenacting a scene from Bergman's Scenes From a Marriage. How apropos, for 5x2 can be viewed as a postmodern rendering of that film. Ozon uses the fashionable reverse structure to tell the story of Marion and Gilles, from their divorce to their first date. Yet what elevates the film beyond a mere gimmick is in what Ozon chooses not to show us, rather than what he does. Though we know all too well how this couple will end up, the five sequences wind up clouding the details rather than making them evident. This  beautifully tragic film shows how it's never merely one thing that breaks up a marriage. Ozon's use of music reaches new heights here, and there's a dance sequence (set to a Paolo Conte song) that is almost Godardian in its perfection. 6. Innocence. Lucile Hadzihalilovic, Belgium/France Written off by many as fodder for the raincoat crowd (thereby avoiding the need to actually discuss it), Innocence was truly one of the most challenging and haunting films of the year. Hadzihalilovic skillfully captures the metamorphosis of young girls into young women -- those final days of innocence -- and does so within a surreal, creepy framework that continually leaves you imagining the worst. This film, more than any other this year, remained burned in my brain for weeks after seeing it. Full review here. 5. Caché. Michael Haneke, France/Austria Did you spot him? Be honest. Full review here. 4. L'Esquive. Abdel Kechiche, France A film all about the power of language, L'Esquive was one of the most original films I saw in 2005. Sure, it's little more than teenagers screaming at each other for two hours, but Kechiche manages to turn it into pure poetry. This should have been the foreign film on everybody's lips this year, but it came and went without a trace. Sara Forestier's performance, as the blond object of desire for the boys in the Banlieue, was nothing short of breathtaking. Full review here. 3. The President's Last Bang. Im Sang-soo, Korea Another film that (sadly) never managed to find an audience. Im's darkly comic take on the assassination of President Park Chung Hee is a perfect film in every respect. Im is a master craftsman, and it shows in every frame of this film. Full review here. 2. L'Intrus (The Intruder). Claire Denis, France Who else but Claire Denis could turn a philosopher's forty-page rumination on his heart transplant into a globetrotting cinematic masterpiece? At the Berlinale market screening, more than half the audience walked out. At the Walter Reade screening, Ms. Denis was barraged with angry questions from an irate audience. Why such reactions? See it for yourself and find out. But one thing -- play this movie LOUD. 1. The Squid and The Whale. Noah Baumbach, USA The fillet of the year. Seems that I'm not the only who experienced self-identification with both the situation and characters in this oh-so-New York tale of divorce and its aftermath. But watching Walt was like watching myself in the early 80s, right down to the strumming of Hey You on a beat-up acoustic. Superb acting, a powerful screenplay, and a whole lot less expensive than a visit to my analyst. Could/Should be on the list: The Dying Gaul, Yes, Me and You and Everyone We Know, Broken Flowers, Dear Wendy, Nobody Knows.

The Year in Lists, Part I: 2005's Top Ten Unreleased Films

After several complaints and cries of foul over my 2004 list, I have decided to create two lists this year -- one for films that had a US theatrical release, and one for those that didn't (and probably never will). And though Manderlay, Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story, Bubble, The Death of Mr. Lazarescu, and Sympathy for Lady Vengeance were five of the best films I saw this year, I've held off on including them as they are all slated for a 2006 US release. Over half of the titles in the following list were seen at the 2005 Berlinale, where I watched a frightening number of films in just under two weeks. The remainder were seen either at local festivals (NYFF, NY Asian Film Festival) or, in two cases, on DVD only. In reverse order: 10. The Love Crimes of Gillian Guess. Bruce McDonald, Canada I've always found Bruce McDonald's tiny road pictures somewhat interesting (Highway 61, Hard Core Logo, Roadkill), but this hyperkinetic, loud, somewhat mess of a film really stuck with me for months on end. Based on the true story of Gillian Guess, a Canadian juror who was sent to prison for having an affair with the defendant, McDonald's candy colored fever dream is an often witty quasi-musical parody of tabloid media. Imagine a cross between Oliver Stone's Natural Born Killers and Jim Sharman's Shock Treatment, and you've got a rough idea of what to expect. Plus, the lead actress, Joely Collins, is Su-su-sudio Phil's daughter. What more can you ask for? 9. The Sun. Aleksandr Sokurov, Russia It's doubtful that this, arguably Sokurov's best film, will ever find its way to the multiplex. However, if by some chance it did, here's how the US trailer would go: [Cue funereal music.] "In a world ravaged by war. In a land brought to its knees. Two men -- one, a five star general, the other, a descendent of the Sun Goddess -- will meet and forever change the course of history." [Cue seizure-inducing montage that includes explosions and other scenes not found in the film.] "Alexander Sokurov's, The Sun." Full review here. 8. Der Irrationale Rest (The Irrational Rest). Thorsten Trimpop, Germany Small, but heartfelt documentary about three friends who had planned to escape from East Germany together. One backed out at the last minute, while the other two were captured and sent to prison. Though not the greatest of tragedies in the grand scheme of things, Trimpop's simple, straightforward approach results in a moving story of betrayal that also offers a non-sensationalized portrait of what life was like on the other side of the wall. The sequence that has one of the three reading through her Stasi file is at once both haunting and absurd. 7. Jestem (I Am). Dorota Kedzierzawska, Poland I Am was one of the least popular films at this year's NYFF. Many found it sappy, dull, or simply a festival film about a boy left on his own. Yet as the director herself stated, it's a film about what it means to be a sensitive, feeling person in a cold, uncaring world. A film that is visually beautiful, yet emotionally heartbreaking. A scene between the boy and his mother, which begins tenderly but ends vulgar and ugly, is my single favorite cinematic moment of 2005. If I'm a softie for liking this film so much, then so be it. 6. Survive Style 5+. Gen Sekiguchi, Japan / Yaji & Kita: The Midnight Pilgrims. Kankuro Kudo, Japan Two debut films from Japanese directors worth watching. Both are highly stylized genre mashups that offer so much more than visual thrills. Full reviews here and here. 5. Peacock (Gu Changwei, China) That the winner of the Silver Bear at the 2005 Berlinale has all but disappeared is quite surprising. This beautifully scripted drama about a poor family is the kind of film that would appeal to both the avid Asian film fan as well as the occasional foreign-film viewer. Gu, who is best known as the cinematographer on films like Ju Dou, Farewell My Concubine, and even Altman's The Gingerbread Man, turns in an impressive debut directorial effort that has clearly been influenced by the masters he shot for. Full review here. 4. Green Chair. Park Cheol-su, Korea / This Charming Girl. Lee Yoon-ki, Korea Two smaller Korean films from 2005 that got lost amidst the ever-increasing number of Hollywood-influenced action films, RomComs, and weepies. The simplicity of the story in This Charming Girl is given great depth by the wonderful, almost wordless performance by its lead actress, Kim Ji-su (making her feature film debut). Green Chair is a darkly comical and somewhat surreal look at a May-December romance that is also one of the sexiest films of 2005. Full review here. 3. Tale of Cinema. Hong Sang-soo, Korea Many people have written wondering why I haven't yet reviewed Hong's latest film. Honestly, it took multiple viewings for me to fully grasp what Hong was saying, though I'm still conflicted about the ending. On the surface, there's something about it that doesn't feel like a Hong film, but closer study reveals that it actually is a re-working of themes and ideas he's addressed in past films (including some direct references to his earlier works.) Perhaps I'll cobble something meaningful together in the near future. In the meantime, Michael Sicinski (with whom I battled over Sympathy for Lady Vengeance earlier this year) has written an excellent review of the film in the latest issue of Cinema Scope. 2. Princess Raccoon. Seijun Suzuki, Japan Forget Memoirs of a Geisha. This is the film that truly brings Ziyi Zhang to Japan, where she plays not a courtesan, but a raccoon that sings, dances, and falls in love. Manohla Dargis captured it best -- the film is two hours of pure joy. It's Seijun Suzuki by way of an MGM musical. Full review here. 1. The Wayward Cloud. Tsai Ming-liang, Taiwan Drought. Watermelon. Porn. Genius.

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 6, Week 12

In 1985 the cost of a NYC subway token was ninety cents, yet on one particularly unlucky night for Griffin Dunne it went up to a whopping $1.50, which left our .97¢ hero trapped in the abyss of SoHo, when all he wanted was to go home. This of course is the basic premise behind After Hours, Martin Scorsese's comical essay on uptown's incompatibility with downtown -- a portrait that is as accurate today as it was twenty years ago. Emails were flying back and forth about the subway in question. Was it the West- or East-side Spring St. station, and how could Filmbrain know for sure? A close inspection of the film reveals that Dunne hails a taxi on E64th St., which means he would be hopping the 6 home. (Yes, yes...this is easily the most geeked-out moment in this blog's history.) Well....here we are at week 12, the final week of Round 6. Between the holidays and catching up on films missed in 2005, Filmbrain didn't even realize it was coming to an end. A reminder that the first, second and third place winners can select any title used in this round as a prize (assuming the title is still in print). Check back next week for the winners. What better way to close out the round than with a beautiful closing shot. Name the film, and for yet another bonus point, name the actor who appears in two different roles in the film. Submit your answers to this address. Good luck!

Vengeance for Dummies

It comes as little surprise that the early reviews for Steven Spielberg's Munich have been, for the most part, glowing. His films that tackle controversial subjects (slavery, the Holocaust, WWII) have always been critical darlings, and this one is no exception, thanks to its air of self-importance, and its arrival in the midst of a holiday season filled with mostly escapist fare. Still, what is surprising is that, as of this writing, the only truly negative reviews have come from the neocons, who are outraged that Spielberg humanizes the terrorists, and puts them on the same ethical plane as Mossad. It's a shame that the polarization is strictly political, for the film's faults have little to do with Spielberg's so-called liberal viewpoint. Munich is a dumbed-down, condescending, wishy-washy take on a serious subject that is more about Spielberg's moral egotism than anything else. Violence begets more violence, which begets even more violence. This is what the film teaches us, repeatedly, for two and a half hours. Munich tells of the Israeli response to the massacre of eleven athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics. A super-secret hit squad is formed, ensuring that there are no official ties to Mossad or the Israeli government. The group, led by Avner (Eric Bana), is sent to Europe to assassinate all who were responsible for the attack. The team ranges ideologically from the bloodthirsty "kill every Palestinian" Steve (Daniel Craig), to Matthieu Kassovitz's reluctant bomber with a conscience, while Ciarán Hinds and Hanns Zischler function as the older, wiser counterparts to those two. Screenwriter Eric (Forrest Gump) Roth uses this ready-made conflict to create a series of inane moral diatribes between the team members that serve as little more than a device to ensure the audience fully understands what they are meant to think about the violent scene that preceded it. (It's possible that Tony Kushner, co-screenwriter of the film, wrote these scenes, but his contributions appear to be limited to several lengthy monologues that are decidedly different than these overly simplistic, insulting sequences.) Must we be spoon-fed our morality lessons? Is it that we are incapable of drawing our own conclusions, or is Spielberg worried that those conclusions might not match his own? This type of condescension, so typical of Spielberg films, is cranked up to eleven here -- there's no room for even a hint of interpretation. Case in point [mild spoilers] -- three team members travel to Amsterdam to assassinate a young woman who killed one of the other members. This is not part of their charge, but a premeditated act of vengeance. It's a powerful, unsettling scene made even more disturbing by the fact that the woman winds up sprawled out nude with three holes in her chest. Avner covers her with her robe, but one of the others stops him, and insists on leaving her exposed. That brief moment tells us plenty about the two men, and of the moral ambiguity of the scene. Yet not five minutes later (in the mandatory post-mortem discussion scene) the same character says, "I wish I had let you close her robe." What function does this serve? To show that even a hired assassin can feel regret? Or is it rather a reminder that Avner is the righteous one of the group? (As if a token of decency somehow justifies a revenge killing anyway.) Of course, Munich wouldn't be complete without the director incorporating his signature device -- the child-in-peril sequence. Though shot in slow-motion to increase the suspense, there's never a doubt about the outcome -- this is a Steven Spielberg film after all. Spielberg must think that audiences are cold, unfeeling, desensitized beings, and that only by threatening us with the death of an innocent child can we muster up an iota of emotional response. Why else would he have to resort to this tactic? If, as Armond White claims, it is to hold us in a "moral, negotiating vice" [sic] why fabricate a scene to do so? If Avner is meant to be our moral surrogate, why not recreate their assassination of an innocent Moroccan man in Norway -- an event that actually occurred? Of course that might make it difficult for some of us to side with Avner, and Spielberg will have none of that. This is the real problem with the film. Spielberg wants us to identify with Avner, but never judge him. He may question his own actions and suffer from doubt, but never for a moment are we to feel he's anything but the hero of the story. He never makes mistakes -- poor judgment, perhaps, but never wrong. Every action is laid forth in front of us, and explained, rationalized, etc. To show Avner killing an innocent man would have added a level of depth to our relationship with the character, and Spielberg goes out of his way to avoid that. Neither complex nor ambiguous, Avner is the typical one-dimensional Spielbergian hero, daddy issues and all. (Filmbrain joked about this a few weeks ago -- never really imagined it would be in this film as well.) Spielberg does do a decent job of portraying the Palestinian terrorists as human, though they don't have a lot to do in the film other than smile, offer a cigarette or two, and blow up. In one extremely contrived sequence, Avner and his team find themselves sharing a house in Greece with a group of PLO members. While the scene does include a somewhat interesting (albeit simplistic) ideological conversation, it's ruined by a radio showdown that ends with the two groups learning about the healing power of Al Green. As the body count increases, so does Avner's doubt and paranoia. Fleeing to Brooklyn (where his wife and baby daughter live) he exorcises his Munich demons by imagining the execution of the athletes while he has aggressive sex with his wife. With buckets of sweat flying off his body (in slow motion, naturally), his orgasmic thrusts are perfectly synchronized with the murders. To call the scene ham-fisted would be an understatement, though Spielberg saves his most offensive, most manipulative shot for the very end, where he clobbers you over the head just in case you didn't get it for the last two and half hours. Invoking 9/11 to make a point is an even cheaper tactic than threatening to blow up a little Arab girl. Munich is neither fish nor flesh. It has the makings of an interesting political thriller, but instead of giving us a Z or Day of the Jackal, Spielberg felt he could both entertain and bring peace to the Middle East. As a meditation on vengeance, the problems of terrorism/counter-terrorism, and the Israel-Palestine situation, it is substantially lacking in original ideas, and its moral/ethical discussions never rise above the painfully obvious. Its attempt at even-handedness, to not reduce matters to black and white issues, is ultimately its downfall, for what we are left with is a dull grey. Had Spielberg been brave enough to actually take a position, we might have wound up with something a bit meatier than this obvious bit of Oscar-bait. Art will never solve the world's political problems, and neither will Steven Spielberg's ego., ,

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 6, Week 11 (Special Transit Strike Edition!)

Though George Romero's Land of the Dead received some stellar reviews earlier this year, it never quite took off at the box office, and Filmbrain missed his chance to catch it during it's short run. But before settling down with the DVD, Filmbrain thought he would revisit the first three films in the zombie saga, and he was glad he did. 1978's Dawn of the Dead (the source of last week's quiz) isn't just a great zombie film, but a truly great 70s film that is as much a work of social criticism as it is a fest of flesh eating freaks. The 2004 remake was good, but it can't hold a candle to the original. As you've no doubt heard, New York City is in the midst of a full-blown transit strike -- our first since 1980! The first day was bothersome for many, but most people managed to cope one way or another. (Filmbrain is more than happy to remain in Brooklyn.) However, with Xmas approaching, and the bitter winds that have been blowing, tempers will most likely flare as the days go by. So, as a reminder of what we've lost, this week's quiz is set in the subterranean jungle that we all once knew. Seems like only yesterday. . . Name the film, and for a bonus point, name the train our hero would be catching here. Submit your answers to this address. Good luck!

Mr. & Mrs. Smith

There's a moment towards the end of The New World where Captain Christopher Newport (Christopher Plummer), the English commander who led the establishment of the Jamestown settlement, declares that "conscience is nuisance". Frightening words that served as one of the rationales for a genocidal slaughter that would continue for the next two hundred years. Yet what is most surprising about Terrence Malick's latest film (his fourth in thirty-two years), is that though it depicts one of the most lethal cases of culture clash, it is ultimately more a tragic love story steeped in the consequences of misunderstanding than it is an indictment of the crimes of our forefathers. Based on the oft-told tale of Captain John Smith and Pocahontas, The New World is far from the Disneyfied treatment of the story, but still more romanticized than, say, William T. Vollmann's historical novel Argall, which reminded us that Pocahontas was around eleven when she met Smith, and that her capture by the English was not the simple exchange for a copper pot that has become part of the popular myth. However, it isn't the historical accuracy (or lack thereof) that matters, for Malick has given us one of the most ambitious and beautiful films of the year. Much like his World War II meditation The Thin Red Line, The New World shares a similar elegiac mood, and also makes heavy use of internal monologue, though at the same time has a conventional enough narrative for those that found his last film too daunting. Colin 'fookin' Farrell is surprisingly good as Capt. Smith, but it is the performance of fifteen year-old Q'orianka Kilcher as Pocahontas that is behind much of the film's power. It's a challenging, demanding role that requires her to go from barefoot free spirit to corset-bound Christian, and it's a remarkable feat considering that this her debut as a lead. The extended sequence that finds Smith living amongst the Powhatan tribe for several months (thanks to a life saving intervention by Pocahontas) manages to show how their relationship moves from innocent flirtation to undying love with only the barest minimum of dialog. It's an ethereal, dreamlike sequence that abruptly comes to an end as Smith returns to Jamestown -- a settlement full of greed, anger, and violence -- the polar opposite of the harmonious conditions Smith experiences with the Powhatan. Malick does a wonderful job at drawing sharp distinctions between the two cultures, thanks in part to Emmanuel Lubezki's cinematography. Shot almost entirely without the aid of electric lights, Lubezki recreates a 17th century Virginia full of lush, warm colors that captures the vastness of the landscape, with seemingly endless rivers, fields, and forests. This is in sharp contrast to the London we see in the final act -- all grey, cramped, and orderly. (Seeing Pocahontas and a member of her tribe standing next to a sculpted hedge maze is positively creepy.) Though Lubezki relies a bit too heavily on a few shots -- particularly the low angle, and the John Fordian outside-as-seen-through-the-doorway-of-a-darkened-room -- it's every bit as gorgeous as the Texas of Days of Heaven. Filmbrain saw The New World right on the heels of King Kong, and he couldn't help but notice some odd parallels between the two. Smith, like Kong, arrives in a strange new world in chains, held prisoner in the hull of a ship. Instead of the natives kidnapping a member of the unwelcome visitors, it is the English who offer up one of their own to the tribe, and their purchase of Pocahontas (and her subsequent journey to England) can be seen as a reversal of the Kong story -- for in the end it is wasn't the illness, but rather the beast that killed beauty. Though hardly Malick-lite, The New World, with its doomed-from-the-start love affair, might find greater acceptance among mainstream audiences. Less political than Syriana or Munich, and far richer than the vacuous postcard that is Memoirs of a Geisha, The New World is the true masterpiece this holiday season, and a late entry into Filmbrain's top ten of 2005.

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 6, Week 10

Before moving on to the quiz, just a brief reminder that those in need of a Filmbrain fix can find his take on King Kong over at Cinemarati. Christopher Walken may have been The King of New York, but Charlie Chaplin was A King in New York, the source of last week's quiz. Filmbrain doesn't know many who share his love of this 1957 comedy, which was Chaplin's response to the McCarthy-led Red Scare. A flawed masterpiece, it's a biting, vicious little satire that contains some wonderful digs at American culture, media, politics, and of course our attitudes towards communism. Easily one of Chaplin's darkest films, it's an absolute must-see. (Makes for a perfect double feature with A Face in the Crowd.) Some of you emailed with claims that the film was in fact not banned, but that Chaplin himself prevented the film from being released in America. An old Chaplin bio (Chaplin: His Life and Art) states that it was banned, yet a web search found support of both claims, so the jury is out on that one. Either way, the film did not see official release in the US until the early 70s. After two difficult quizzes, Filmbrain decided to throw out an easier one -- in what film will you find this incredibly cool JCPenney Solid State television, and what's this guy on channel 10 going on about? Submit your answers to this address. Good luck!

Two Characters In Search of a Reality

Rare is the film that is either so imaginative, so surreal, or simply so bizarre that it defies easy description. Kankuro Kudo's twisted road flick, Yaji & Kita: The Midnight Pilgrims (真夜中の弥次さん喜多さん) is most definitely one of them. A drug-infused psychedelic fever-dream of a film that transcends genres, styles, and space-time itself, it is two solid hours of jaw-dropping fun. Though an adaptation of a popular manga, the source material is the classic Japanese road novel of 1802, Tokkaidochu Hizakurige. In the novel, Yaji and Kita, two roguish womanizers, flee their debts in Edo and travel to the Ise Shrine via the famed Tokkaido road. Kudo's film, which is set in the same era as the novel, begins with a similar premise, though this time Kita is a junkie, and Yaji his gay lover. Their departure from Edo is predicated by a murder and a belief that the Ise shrine will help Kita kick his drug habit. What follows is a cross between Easy Rider, Alice in Wonderland, and a deliciously subverted Wizard of Oz. Beginning with an impressive song-and-dance number (the very Steppenwolf-sounding Born to be Gay), the two then take to the road on Captain America's chopper, only to be told that Edo men must travel the Tokkaido road on foot. The road to Ise holds many adventures for our star crossed lovers, including a meeting with a lord (tough-guy staple Riki Takeuchi) who only grants passage to samurai that can make him laugh, and a teahouse at the base of Mt. Fuji run by a singing transvestite and his tone-deaf daughter. Adding to the fun are Kita's many withdrawal fantasies, which take the form of drug-themed quiz shows, or imaginary armies of football players, samba dancers and office ladies. There's a comedian named Hot Sandwich, a hirsute geisha pop star, a yam-juice serving King Arthur, a macho slimeball of a detective, and the greatest testicle pulling sequence ever committed to celluloid.

What's remarkable about Kudo's film is that it manages to sustain this level of irreverence and sheer nuttiness for over two hours while at the same time remaining interesting and original. Though somewhat episodic (each stop along the road is identified by the particular inn they are staying at), it never feels fragmented thanks to the underlying love story between Kita and Yaji, who must even challenge death to remain together. The moments of self-reflexivity, such as when a character steps out of the film to watch the director's cut of an earlier scene, are actually incorporated into the story, and don't come off as simply a gimmick. Even the film's refusal to remain true to the era works as more than mere anachronism, thanks to Kudo's brilliantly clever screenplay. Kudo cut his teeth in the industry as screenwriter on several other successful comedies (Iden & Tity, Zebraman, 69), and though this is his directorial debut, he's already shown himself to be a director with a rather unique vision. Unfortunately, a fair amount of the dialog consists of very clever wordplay that might get lost in translation. (The translator of the DVD subtitles made a noble effort to find English equivalents, but in some cases it is impossible.) Still, there's more than enough to enjoy here, with scenes that will literally leave you howling with laughter right up to the third act, which, while still funny, has a genuine pathos that's rare in absurdist comedy. A late entry into Filmbrain's "Best Undistributed Films of 2005" list, Yaji & Kita: The Midnight Pilgrims has been picked up for distribution in the US and will be released in Summer 2006. Be sure to stay through the end credits so as not to miss the very Iggy Pop-ish I Wanna Be Your Fuck.

Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 6, Week 9

Wow! The whole spiritual thing really got the gears turning. Guesses were flying in left and right all week -- with over fifty different titles submitted -- everything from Ben Hur, Life of Brian, Osama, Spartacus, Kandahar, The Sheltering Sky to Excalibur. Though some might aggressively disagree (and they have -- remember the protests that shut down the entire block in front of the Ziegfeld?), Martin Scorsese's The Last Temptation of Christ is spiritual to some, certainly to the director at least. For those who asked, the figures shown are mourners in front of Lazarus' cave. Congrats to the relatively few who were able to spot it. This film for this week's quiz is probably the first to ever poke fun at the inanity of trailers, as evinced by the screen cap below. On top of that, it was banned in this country for years. (That should make it a dead giveaway.) Submit your answers to this address. Good luck!

The Fur Will Indeed Fly

There's an event taking place this Sunday (11 December) that has the potential to turn into a real critical dust-up -- a panel at Makor that finds Glenn Kenny (Premiere), Stephen Holden (NY Times), Thelma "Michael Bay knows how to deliver a big summer movie!" Adams (US Magazine), and Armond White (NY Press) discussing the best and worst of 2005. Filmbrain wouldn't miss this for the world. The discussion of The Squid and The Whale alone (Glenn Kenny, four stars, Armond White, four cups of bile) is worth the admittance fee (which apparently includes free wine as well. Nice.)

What better way to spend a chilly Sunday afternoon? Filmbrain will be there, along with Cinephiliac, to watch the sparks and fur fly. Hope to see you there.

Sunday, 11 December, 3:30 - 5:30. Makor is located at 35 W67th St. Complete details HERE.