Drive

"Drive" is a bearable but nonetheless disappointing effort from one of the most overrated filmmakers out there: Nicolas Winding Refn, who's made downright lamentable works in the past, including "Bronson" and "Valhalla Rising." Faith in this guy is ridiculously assured. He again and again takes potentially interesting ideas and runs them into the ground, and yet he continues to get validation, now even in the form of a Best Director prize from Cannes for his latest.

Due to all the magic-sounding hype, I was expecting something that would make my jaw drop. I wanted to see something distinct. I wanted to be awed. And I thought that finally, finally, with the right actors and the right story, Refn could pull something like that off. But when the supposedly esteemed first scene rolled by looking and sounding like something straight out of Need For Speed, I knew that things weren't going to run smoothly. In fact, this letdown cast a shadow over the rest of the film for me, and so I was never able to really appreciate anything other than the solid production design and the supporting work of Carey Mulligan and Kaden Leos as a mother and son.

Ryan Gosling alternates between smiling diffidently and growling aggressive warnings as the Driver (a.k.a. the Kid), whose life basically revolves around cars. He's a mechanic, a stuntman, and a getaway man, and even when he's not working, he's driving through LA. Though he affects a bravado, complete with toothpick and scorpion jacket, we see him as a barren soul, sleep-deprived, anonymous, using the drive as an out-of-body experience. We as the audience pick this up, but Refn could've done better by playing up these elements a little more (which is not entirely achieved by showing Gosling driving in close-ups over and over again, which he does).

The Driver runs into Irene (Mulligan) in his apartment building, and, as they find themselves meeting often, the two grow drawn to each other, even though she has a kid (Leos) and a husband, known as Standard (Oscar Isaac), who is on his way out of prison. This section is more human than anything I've seen by Refn up to this point. But it is not to last, as the Driver gets himself inextricably involved in jobs and deals set up by Bernie Rose (Albert Brooks) and his pizzeria-owner partner Nino (Ron Perlman).

And, at a certain point, with the brief use of a character, Blanche (Christina Hendricks), the film crosses a line. On the other side, it breaks with respectability and descends into increasingly cartoonish violence. By the time Brooks stabs a guy in the eye with a fork and then jams a knife into his throat, the initial shock of the savagery has worn off, and what we're left with is sad excess. This is ultimately what has been undermining Refn's works, and it will continue to do so unless the man can get a hold of himself. With "Drive," he's out of touch, though a bit less so than before. C

Telluride 2011, Day 4: Footnote

Telluride 38 is over, and although it was somewhat exhausting, I am sad to see it go. On the final day at the festival, I tried to get into Asghar Farhadi’s much-loved and Berlin-winning “A Separation,” but, for the first time, I was shut out due to a massive turnout at a small venue. Thus, wanting to see at least one more film while I was in Colorado, I made my way over to see Joseph Cedar’s “Footnote.” I had wanted to watch it, due to a recommendation or two and its Best Screenplay prize at Cannes, but I didn’t have the highest expectations. I had read some negative coverage earlier in the year and figured that it might be below average.

Instead, powered by Cedar’s rightfully awarded script (in Hebrew), “Footnote” is sharp and haunting, a propulsive film that ruminates on the cost of a great legacy. It centers on the awarding of the Israel Prize, given for excellence in research of the Talmud, as the thorough Eliezer Scholnik (Shlomo Bar-Aba) realizes his career dream by winning it. The problem is, his much more well-known son Uriel (Lior Ashkenazi) was actually supposed to have been given the honors. The announcement has already been made in the paper, though, so Uriel feels as if Eliezer would be devastated if he found out that he had lost and that Uriel (whom he resents) was the real recipient. But the judges, especially the chief (Micah Lewensohn), who has ties to Eliezer’s past, feel as if the prize would be trivialized if given to someone who wasn’t voted the winner. Thus, a shattering choice is created that will birth horrible consequences no matter the way taken.

It doesn’t help that Eliezer is an insufferable narcissist who has a reputation for covering all the bases but no major works to show it. His winning the award seems as times to make no sense even to him, but it would boost opinions of his career and thus he really wants it. Uriel consciously made sure never to nominate himself for the prize any of the many years that Eliezer has been trying to win it, but he receives a nod by one of the judges and finds himself in a decidedly unenviable position: both wanting prestige and happiness for his father. Meanwhile, his own son isn’t satisfying Uriel’s grand plans for his future and another strain comes as a result.

The film is exceptionally written, full of strong scenes, the most prominent one coming when Uriel is informed of the situation by the judges in an extremely small room. The characters always sound like real people and what they say is all the more piercing for it. Ashkenazi’s terrific performance as Uriel definitely helps the film as well, as he nails the part’s mix of conviction and uncertainty. The film’s use of close-ups also adds a layer of anxiety to the already tense mood.

I think “Footnote” is a couple steps below a masterpiece due to its suitably traditional but enervating and too forceful score (Cedar lacks the confidence in other places that he displays in his writing) and at times not living up to the clarity and thematic prowess of its centerpiece discussion. I also can see some (possible) echoes of the work of Zadie Smith in the film’s structure and the characters’ traits. But these flaws can be forgotten once you get pondering Cedar’s perceptiveness. B+

That's it for me. It was a great festival, and I hope to return next year.

Telluride 2011, Day 3: Target; Shame; We Need to Talk About Kevin

Telluride '11 was still vibrant today, but the atmosphere could be felt slowly diminishing. I was hoping for the festival to continue to deliver indispensable cinema, and, in one case, it did. But my expectations for two of the three films I saw today weren't met, and I can now reflect that, while it has been quite a strong festival (as everyone has been saying), the programming hasn't been unimpeachable. (It is better than last year's NYFF, though, it must be said.)

I was surprised (but very happy) to see Alexander Zeldovich's "Target" among the official selection of Telluride this year. It seemed like a pretty gutsy move, a welcome push of the usual limits of the lineup, and, as a result, a lot of intrigue was created. I don't think that many people have liked the film that much, however, and it's easy to see why. The film takes a potentially gripping idea into pretty disturbing territory, leading to scenes that are embarrassing, disgusting, and deeply unnerving.

Since the film is about people who go to a radiated place to seek a solution to their problems (more specifically, to stop themselves from physically getting older), I was expecting something near Andrei Tarkovsky's provocative, humanist "Stalker." Zeldovich's movie plays as if Tarkovsky's work were transported into the future and remade by David Cronenberg and Richard Kelly. Instead of a more sensitive examination of this concept, Zeldovich has his characters go overboard with sexuality and violence. I know, as a fellow moviegoer informed me, this is a possible and not often used way of illustrating what could go wrong. My interest got detached somewhere along the way, as affairs take place and the plot devolves into moments of insanity. Though the film has some interesting flourishes in portraying a slightly dystopian future (immigrants are hunted as game and the freeways are full of trailers and nothing else) and a fun character who is talented at talking really fast, I often found what I was watching ridiculous. I know I've misunderstood this movie (a post-film discussion showed me how I went wrong). But to me it was tiresome and troubling in ways I couldn't quite get over. I'm not too keen on having a second viewing, though I doubt I'll ever get one, seeing as though distributors wouldn't have a fun time trying to get people to give it a go. C

Speaking of distributors, I saw representatives from various companies at the day's next film, which, judging from the packed house, seemed to be the most anticipated film of many people (it was mine). It'll be an easier sell than "Target," for sure. But there may still be some logistical issues getting it into a theater without passing on an MPAA rating. This was Steve McQueen's emotionally frank, graphically sexual "Shame." Though I don't think it quite tops his previous movie "Hunger," and though towards the beginning it's a little oblique, it's good enough to establish McQueen as one of the best directors of his generation.

This is especially because he is able to get such good work out of two actors that don't get used to their full potential in other hands. Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan are unquestionably better here than they've ever been before. It's also because he always finds art in the places in which he sets his films (using his extraordinary DP Sean Bobbit). Whereas "Hunger" was all filthy prison cells and urine-stained halls, "Shame" is full of the sleek windows and mirrors of offices and apartments. Brandon (Fassbender) sees himself divided as if by panes from the rest of humanity. He copulates and masturbates often, but always connects only on a physical level, unable to have a serious relationship and doomed forever to a shady private existence.

One day, coming home, he finds his sister Sissy (Mulligan, who alternates effectively between piercing and irritating) unexpectedly bathing in his apartment, although she insists she's called many times. Though she's a captivating singer (as one scene rather uncomfortably shows us), she has nowhere to stay. He reluctantly allows her to crash, though conflict is always around the corner. She comes to discover his erotic tendencies, and it only piles on the shame that Brandon has already been feeling. Also overwhelming him is his attempt at a serious relationship with a woman from work named Marianne (Nicole Beharie), the only time that we can see that he's ever been nervous around a sexual partner. The chemistry between Fassbender and Beharie is remarkable, especially considering the fact that McQueen often chooses to not cut away from their interactions and thus forces them to carry on their bantering with feeling for minutes at a time. The brilliant screenplay by McQueen and Abi Morgan fuels these conversations as well as the confrontations between Brandon and Sissy, giving the actors excellent material, making Brandon not the only character struggling with morality (take a look at his boss), and bringing the film to a perfectly chosen close.

I wish the film, McQueen, and Fassbender (best performance of the year, possibly) the best of luck at Venice when it comes to awards. "Shame" marshals great insight and discomfort, portraying a man who is unable to satisfy himself in any way, continuing to try certain methods, though, even as he pushes farther away from society and digs himself deeper and deeper into a hole, not seeing that guilt won't solve everything. A-

I caught a tribute to Tilda Swinton today, as well, my second of the fest (after the George Clooney one yesterday). Affixed to the end of it was Lynne Ramsay's "We Need to Talk About Kevin." Honestly, I don't understand exactly why this film was made. Adapted by Ramsay and Rory Kinnear from a book by Lionel Shriver, it shows a despicable character doing and saying horrible things, and provides really no explanation for this. It left me feeling very, very sad, especially since it has tapioca pacing and since it never for more than about 30 seconds alleviates its grueling tone. It eventually becomes just a string of bad events, so exasperatingly predictable you have to wonder why Ramsay didn't take a different path.

Swinton supplies a good acting job that goes sadly underutilized as Eva, the mother of the titular character (Ezra Miller), who takes a bow and arrow to school and attacks many students. We don't find this out until towards the end, as the film is scrambled (an approach taken in a similar way by its predecessor, Gus Van Sant's "Elephant"; Ramsay uses a visceral variation that ends up as one of the film's minor high points, even if she stumbles with it later on), dipping back from Eva's depressed present to moments that ended up defining her life. Kevin's motives are supposedly examined, though it just seems that he's pissed off that he exists and takes every opportunity to get back at his mother for bringing him into the world. I say this because he cried profusely as a baby and seemed to have been already resistant to Eva's child-rearing techniques. He does take a liking to his father, Franklin (John C. Reilly), but ultimately it appears to have been only to find another way to emotionally abuse his mother. It's painful to sit through this film, even if it has a couple of merits. I think Ramsay needed to have a talk herself about whether this movie was necessary to make. D+

Telluride 2011, Day 2: The Kid With a Bike; Into the Abyss; The Artist

Saturday, the first full day of the 38th edition, was packed with a number of highlights, as well as the first disappointing film of the festival (though I did actually like certain aspects of it). I started the day off with one of the most important and most anticipated features of the year, "The Kid With a Bike" by Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, which tied for second place at Cannes. I'm a fan of the brothers' previous works, especially "The Son." Yet, though some had called it glorious, I was worried by the critiques (such as this one) that the duo had made a bland picture.

Having now seen it, I can say that the film is very interesting and involving, with a plot that's exquisitely put together. It starts in medius res, as we see young Cyril (Thomas Doret) calling his father's apartment for what appears to be the umpteenth time. Left in a foster home, he clings to the hope that his father will pick him back up; yet, as it becomes clear, this appears to be an unlikely possibility. Cyril, though, with his mix of naivete and street smarts, tries again and again to get his father back, breaking out of whatever confinement he finds himself currently in, going back to every place he ever visited with his dad and trying to work out where he's gone to.

Once, being pursued by counselors of the foster home, he attaches himself to a random woman, who turns out to be Samantha (Cecile de France). Though she's propelled into Cyril's life in odd circumstances, she begins to take an interest in his happiness and well-being, letting him live with her on the weekends, getting back the bike he believes was stolen from his father (who actually sold it), and helping him in his search.

Who he ultimately finds his father to be is a man who is having a hard time keeping himself afloat and who wants nothing to do with him. Jeremie Renier, who played the criminally neglectful father who sold his baby in "The Child," is perfectly cast, as you can see a sort of shared history between this character and the other one. This connection makes Cyril's revelation all the more heartbreaking, and, in turn, his search for another father figure (a position he tries putting a disturbingly friendly gang leader) ever the more compelling. Doret, debuting in the lead role, makes the film even more emotionally encompassing, with his constantly shifting and palpable feelings of anger and optimism. Though at times it admittedly does feel a little like it seems to be heading nowhere, and though it doesn't get to the heights that the Dardennes have at some points, "The Kid With a Bike" nonetheless balances watchability and reflection possibly better than anything else so far at Telluride. B+

Coming off of somewhat underwhelming documentaries and features, Werner Herzog's "Into the Abyss: A Tale of Death, a Tale of Life" is the best film he's made in some time. Examining a case that sent one of the defendants to his death and another to live out most of the rest of his life in prison (hence the title), Herzog develops a study of both the motives for crime and revenge (via capital punishment, which he vehemently opposes).

The film makes it clear early on that the two men, Michael Perry and Jason Burkett, are guilty for the killings with which they've been charged. A couple of people in the film, including the attackers themselves, seem to think they are innocent in some way or another, but the evidence is overwhelming. So instead, Herzog, after showing us (with police footage and interviews with members of the force) exactly what transpired, probes into the environment of the perpetrators and victims.

We come to see Conroe, Texas as a town that passes criminal activity from father to son and from brother to brother. Almost every man interviewed in the film has gone to jail at least once. We come to see how a crime with baffling motives (the three people were murdered over a car) has horrific, staggering effects. And we come to see how one could feel that capital punishment would provide strong catharsis as well as a hypocritical continuation of violence. The film at 106 minutes feels uncomfortably long, but it's very valuable how Herzog takes his time and allows us to see all sides. I was humbled and jarred. A-

The initial run of strong cinema ended, though, when I caught Michel Hazanavicius' appealing but annoyingly derivative "The Artist," done up in black and white and with almost no spoken dialogue. Despite two terrific performances by Cannes Best Actor Jean Dujardin and Berenice Bejo and some strong montages and ideas, the film wore thin far before it supposed to by having the plot go on autopilot in the final half. Dujardin plays George Valentin, a top performer in silent films, famous for performing with his dog, who can better the mood of a group of people just by flashing his exceptionally charming smile. At the peak of his fame, he bumps into Peppy Miller (Bejo), who gets a small slice of attention by giving him a kiss caught on the cover of Variety. She goes on to audition as a dancer at Kinograph Films, where George works, and would have been fired by the Kinograph's money-hungry studio head Zimmer (John Goodman) were it not for George's intervention.

But soon enough, George loses his power when Zimmer decides to make the switch from silent films to talkies, and Peppy quickly reaches the renown with which George once was blessed. He tries to save silent films by making one of his own on his own money (earning the nickname "The Artist" as a result) but no one is really interested anymore and thus his total decline seems unable to be prevented. Hazanavicius' banal depiction of George's self-destruction through booze made me check out about 3/4 of the way into the film, and thus the end, which is clearly intended to be the most "delightful" thing you ever saw (or so everyone says it is), was at least partially lost on me. With the acting ability available here, and the handful of good scenes, it's a pity that the script lets everyone down. C+

Telluride 2011, Day 1: The Turin Horse; Pina

Though many (including myself) arrived a day early to the 38th Telluride Film Festival, it didn't really get started until today. The first films were projected, the middle of the town was converted into an enclosed dining area, and the jovial atmosphere of the day before was infused with a shot of festival adrenaline. Today is the only day where breathing room is alloted; Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, it'll be full speed ahead.

It appeared when I was first looking over the details of the festival that programming would begin after the celebrated Opening Night Feed, which would mean further possible scheduling conflicts when it came to planning what I would see. Luckily, this was not the case, and I was able to catch Bela Tarr's "The Turin Horse", one of the films to which I was most looking forward, before events really got under way. I'd never seen one of Tarr's films all the way through, but what I caught from "Satantango" and "Werckmeister Harmonies," plus Tarr's great reputation, plus the fact that Tarr is supposedly never going to make another film, was more than enough to convince me that this was going to be something.

Seeing any black and white picture on the big screen is a captivating experience, but especially when the film is one that takes an emotional toll on the viewer. I remember vividly viewing Michael Haneke's punishing "The White Ribbon" and feeling as though all color had been drained from the world. Yet, however exhausting and affecting that movie was, its overall impact ultimately doesn't hold a flickering lantern to Tarr's suffocatingly evocative work.

Over the course of 146 minutes, Tarr brings us palpably into the world of Ohlsdorfer (Janos Derzsi, a Tarr regular) and his daughter (Erika Bok). They own the titular horse, who, as the subject of abuse at one point, deeply affected Fredrich Nietzsche (enough to spur him to never speak again). We watch as the two struggle with sustenance during an extremely harsh gale. Life for them has no pleasures anymore; it's now just a series of chores, each one shown by Tarr many times. Even eating potatoes and drinking alcohol are things done simply to keep going.

The film, from one of the earliest shots (of which there are apparently 30), establishes a parallel between the humans and their animal counterpart, from their windblown appearances to their fruitless labors. It also pits many different philosophies against each other about the storm at the center of the story, from the literalism preached by the narrator and Ohlsdorfer, to the Christianity evident in the daughter's reading of a bible, to the atheistic, eternal-cycle belief of a third character named Bernhard (Mihaly Kormos). Tarr gives his views the most screen time, and I'm pretty sure I know from outside knowledge that this is the philosophy with which Tarr seems to sympathize most. However, Ohlsdorfer's waving off of this talk makes me think that Tarr might be trying to voice his contempt of theorizing about and trying to find a point in what's happening in his film. Still, I think the film does purvey a stark message (although many will think otherwise), and I feel like this is the movie that I wanted out of Bresson's "Au Hasard Balthazar." Also, unlike "Balthazar," the film displays a very admirable dedication to its tone, and I find that an attribute essential to its success.

Also big is Tarr's use of nuance in sound design. According to the producers, much of the short script was devoted to how the wind in the background would sound. One can see why. It plays on the soundtrack throughout the film, alongside a orchestral snippet that Tarr employs in a way that reminds me of William Basinski's "Disintegration Loops." Since these sounds are such a given, they act as a sort of canvas, giving the noises of the characters and their actions a far more striking impact than usual. We learn a lot about the characters from how they manifest themselves in these moments.

One always knows the cinematography in a Tarr film will be special. The opening shots are quite attractive (especially the first one, where Fred Kelemen's camera pulls back and makes the scene look as if it is animated), but later on Tarr has us empathize with the characters by almost totally de-romanticizing and dulling the photography. This makes the film borderline unendurable (some people left early, some checked out audibly from their seats, and everyone exited as soon as the film ended), and I almost wanted to turn away from the screen as it drew towards its close. However, there is so, so much here. "The Turin Horse" is probably going to be one of the most thoughtful and empathetic movies to be shown in the next couple of years. I felt my patience tested, but it was worth it. If you couldn't deal with "The Tree of Life," though, this one's definitely not for you. A-

I came out of "The Turin Horse" spilling my theories out to all who would listen, assuming (as one of the festival directors said might happen) that the next film I would see would be meaningless in comparison. Not so. I found Wim Wenders' "Pina" as riveting as he said he found Pina Bausch's performances. It uses 3D in lovely ways, fully absorbing you in the startling set pieces that Bausch put together (before she died). It's hard to believe that someone could come up with dances so outlandish yet so resonant and enjoyable.

The film draws from four main performances and sprinkles in asides of individual or duo dances. Some of them are viewed as if you are watching over the heads of an audience; others are set in places where only a camera could take you. The aforementioned artifice of the play-within-movie often creates a few annoying anachronisms: for example, how can actors just change into other actors? This, along with including pointless interviews with dancers talking about what it was like to being around Pina, is the film's biggest mistake. I wish Wenders had elected to just show the dancing and allowed us (through them) to draw our own conclusions about the person behind them. Alas, the film is prevented from the heights it's perfectly capable of reaching, though it's definitely worth seeing for the mind-blowing and satisfying acts on display (don't let them get spoiled for you). B+

I will be seeing more in the next couple days. Stay tuned.

R

"R" is competent, absorbing in the way of prison films, often beautifully shot, and filled with some solid (if sometimes bland) characters. But it sits in the shadow of a film it often mirrors, Jacques Audiard's expansive "A Prophet," which, as time goes by, stands as one of the fullest depictions of a sentence behind bars in all of cinema. The comparison between these two films has been made before; Film Comment called "R" "the antithesis" of its predecessor. That it may be, but it doesn't hold a candle to that film's careful examination of its characters and far reach.

It definitely tries to manage with its own versions of these things. The film follows Rune (Pilou Asbaek, who looks disturbingly similar to both Michael Shannon and Jude Law) as closely as the Dardennes follow any of their leads, establishing his limited territory and picking up on the few character traits that he has: he enjoys cleaning a lot, was imprisoned for stabbing someone, and has a grandmother that cares deeply for him awaiting his release. As the "new guy" at the prison, he's picked on and assigned to beat up a man known as The Albanian. He does this, and gradually starts to work his way into the system, getting protection (as well as some disrespect, from a dude called the Mason; the actor who plays him does pretty well, though I can't find his name at the moment).

Eventually, he gets into the transporting of drugs, initially working with Rashid (Dulfi Al-Jabouri), using easter eggs as means of transport and having Rashid act as the mule. Of course, this supplies definite possibilities for things to go wrong, and if you ever do end up seeing this film, you can observe what happens. I will say that the narrative embraces Rashid in an interesting way (which fits, considering the title), though I don't think co-writer/directors Tobias Lindholm and Michael Noer ultimately have the right kind of sensitivity to deal with what he comes to do.

The film ends with a resonant bang, unlike the mellow, "Mack the Knife"-soundtracked conclusion to "A Prophet." When I first saw the ending to the earlier movie, I was disappointed. But a second viewing confirms that Audiard throughout his movie had a much clearer idea of what he was trying to say. That's much more valuable than treading water for 93 minutes and then trying to make up for it in the final shots. B-

The Guard

Bland and salvaged from dreariness only by the moderate strength of its two lead actors, John Michael McDonagh's "The Guard" is a lackluster answer to brother Martin's "In Bruges," much in the same way Carlos Cuaron's "Rudo y Cursi" was to any of brother Alfonso's films. A good time at the picture show? Yeah, I liked watching it, but it's nowhere near as strong in any department as its predecessor, and you have wonder eventually what the point is.

It's a good idea to star Brendan Gleeson instead of giving him a supporting role, but if you're going to do that, you have to give him better material. Watching this film, I was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something funnier or more interesting to come. Don Cheadle, playing the straight man, supplies some laughs and holds the screen, but it's really not enough. I admittedly didn't pick up some of what was said early on, due to the thickness of the characters' accents (this movie is set in Ireland and proud of it), but really there seemed to be something lacking.

The film follows abrasive Sgt. Gerry Boyle (Gleeson), who, though not really a horrible person, is not above taking (and doing) drugs from the pockets of deceased lawbreakers, as he investigates a case involving $500 million worth of cocaine. That's where FBI Agt. Wendell Everett (Cheadle) comes in, who comes to appreciate Boyle's company, despite some initial racial and nationalist issues (which, truth be told, are actually pretty humorous).

Since the POV is objective, we also get to meet the criminals (played by "Hunger"'s Liam Cunningham, "Kick-Ass"'s Mark Strong, and David Wilmot), who, though they talk about philosophers and insult colorfully, aren't the most interesting guys to watch (though one moment when Cunningham and Strong burst into laughter is pretty golden). There are also scenes with Gerry's dying mother Eileen (Fionnula Flanagan), probably the only well-defined female character in the whole film. (Of course, when you watch a film like this, you're not likely to find a lot of depth there. But the other three we get, two prostitutes and an ever weeping "Romanian" widow, are paltry stereotypes.) Around her, we get to see Gleeson show off his sweeter side, which is nice, though it doesn't really solve the film's problems (although I think McDonagh hopes it might).

I enjoyed this film perhaps a bit more than I'm letting on. But when I think back on an experience, I want it to be worth something in some way, and "The Guard" doesn't meet those standards. It's very uneven and ultimately doesn't really work. I really hope the next film by a McDonagh is Martin's. C

The Future

At the center of Miranda July's appeal is a contradiction. In my opinion, she's a far stronger actress than writer or director. However, I feel it would be strange, almost not right, to see her performing in anything except for works that she herself has created. If only the two sides of the equation could fit together. "The Future" at certain points gets close to equilibrium, but doesn't succeed in the end due to a problematic lack of cohesion and a dreadful opening half. For me, "Me and You and Everyone We Know," her essentially unwatchable but bizarrely beloved first film, is the beginning of this movie blown up to feature length. Luckily, as the film progresses, July touches on issues and concepts that illuminate the film as a whole and prevent it from being as awful as its predecessor, but when she does, it's too late (ironically enough, when you consider the subject of the film).

The film is framed around the adoption of an injured cat named Paw-Paw (to whom July gives a scratchy voice) by two unhappily employed people, Sophie (July as well) and Jason (Hamish Linklater). They want to do more with their lives, but they feel they should do their part and bring this cat to live with them. That means having their freedom drastically cut (to roughly a month, when they are scheduled to pick the cat up), as the cat could live for a long time and, when it dies, could leave them stranded past the halfway mark in their own lives.

This constraint seems to be a liberation of sorts, as both quit their jobs and strive to do something: Sophie undertaking a project known as "30 Days 30 Dances," Jason trying to sell trees and save the earth as part of a small environmental operation. But ultimately, the constraint sort of disappears, as Sophie grows frustrated and bored with her web series (it doesn't really go anywhere) and goes off on a different tangent and Jason tries to hang on to their semblance of a life while maintaining the idea that everything's gone anyways.

The film includes a few elements of the surreal, such as the moon talking (pessimistically) and Jason's ability to stop time, which seems like a folly (everyone's pretending at first) until it actually takes effect. This mood of spontaneity both helps and hurts the film, as it leads the action into interesting territory but also ends up undermining the emotional impact, as it feels like there's no center holding things together.

But it must be said that the film's strong second half is devastating, quite probably because one cannot see it coming from the beginning. It shows that people settle into different roles as time passes and ultimately inhabit them for good, eventually feeling like they've always held them, even if at one point the idea of doing so would seem incredibly crazy or sad. That's something. If July 1) had made the opening feel like more than just a tedious setup and 2) had more fully realized her theses, a piercing film could have resulted. Instead, she juggles a bunch of plots (as she's done before), only getting little bits of gold out of each. C

Note: Despite the objections I find with her work, I still think July is superb at naming her films. However, though "The Future" is a great, intriguing title, when all is said and done, "Satisfaction," her working title, fits much better.

Terri

Azazel Jacobs' "Terri" is at its best towards the beginning. Here, the lulling, moderate pace jells with the sharp, shrewd, and enjoyably subtle examination of the characters provided by Jacobs and fellow screenwriter Patrick Dewitt. As the film proceeds into its later portions, the brushstrokes with which the filmmakers paint their subjects become a bit more erratic, and the incisive part of the equation comes to disagree somehow with the movie's speed. The climactic scenes are sensitive and unearth character traits, but since something's slightly off they are a little less entertaining.

That being said, John C. Reilly holds down each and every scene he's in, only faltering when the script lets him down. He plays Mr. Fitzgerald, the principal (or maybe assistant principal) who takes the disillusioned Terri (Jacob Wysocki) under his wing. Reilly plays glib but sincere, spinning off of his usual persona (most drawn out as Dr. Steve Brule on "Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!") into more complex areas, places I haven't seen him go in a long time--if ever. It's the best performance of his career by far, giving Jacobs exactly what he needs, transcending the minor problems written into his role.

Terri is considered a "good-hearted kid," that is, he has an extremely strong moral center. Stuff gets in the way of that sometimes, but ultimately, he knows what's right and wrong. The problem is, he's been having a hard time keeping up with the bare minimum requirements of school, always showing up late to every class. This is not helped by the fact that he needs to take care of his unstable Uncle James (Creed Bratton, most famously known for "The Office," though he's not exceptional here), not to mention his obesity (which gets him picked on and gets in the way of his getting with his romantic interest, namely Heather, played by Olivia Croicchia). A number of things happen, though, that point to leading him from glumness. His counseling with Mr. Fitzgerald is the most prominent catalyst, even though that involves some tremors. He also gets closer to Heather once he lifts some of the burden off of her that resulted from a pariah-making PDA. But catharsis doesn't come so simply in the end, emotionally and otherwise, especially because of two other characters: Mr. Fitzgerald's dying secretary Ms. Hamish (Mary Anne McGarry, who gives more than what seemed possible in the confines of her role's original one-joke routine) and consistently problematic Chad (Bridger Zadina), who seems to be the product of some sort of emotional neglect.

I appreciated the film's comedic aspects (Wysocki and Reilly are strong in this field), as well as the awareness it has of its characters. However, I found certain bits of the story nebulous, especially towards the end. It's nice how Jacobs and Dewitt don't feel the need to spell every little thing out, but I would have been happier if the resolution had felt slightly more assured. "Terri" has definite plusses, but lacks in depth where it could have been well-shaded, and thus probably will not age terribly well. B

World on a Wire (Re-Release)

Works as ideologically captivating as Rainer Werner Fassbinder's "World on a Wire" often cannot hold themselves together. This TV miniseries (212 minutes long), drawn from Daniel F. Galouye's novel "Simulacron-3," goes on a tangent in the second of its two parts that sends it into territory that lets it down. It's not enough to truly distract from the film's mind-blowing concepts and beautifully crafted art direction and sound design. However, I wish the film hadn't taken a path that falls below its standard of ingenuity.

What precedes the conclusion is often astonishing, extremely perceptive for a movie made in the '70s, and possibly sweepingly influential (though I'm not sure how much circulation this got). A corporation called IKZ has created a computer, known as Simulacron, which is loaded with a replica world, with people programmed to have realistic traits. Citizens of the outside world can get "linked in" to someone in the machine, which is like playing a 1st-person video game. Mostly, though, the technology has been manipulated to play out possible outcomes of the future, for financial gain for a steel company that the head of IKZ, Siskins (Karl Heinz Vosgerau), has ties to.

The computer has gotten a lot of attention in the media, though no one's quite sure what the deal is. That's not the only thing that's hazy at the company: IKZ's technical director Vollmer (Adrian Hoven) apparently has gone insane with some fact and committed suicide via electrocution. And the only person to have any idea about what's happened is Gunther Lause (Ivan Desny), who at a party suddenly disappears for what seems like no reason.

This happens right in front of the man who comes to be our protagonist, Fred Stiller (Klaus Löwitsch), the new technical director, who is extremely unnerved. He wants to find what happened to Vollmer, especially since he's having a relationship with Vollmer's daughter (and Lause's niece) Eva (Mascha Rabben), who also seems prone to disappearances. But the closer he gets to conclusions, the more crazy and ill he comes off to the people in his office. You can tell, though, that something's off here, and the rare case of one person being aligned with the truth and everyone else straying could be possible.

It's not hard to see where "World on a Wire" could go, and, to my dissatisfaction, it went that way. This movie, though, does not suffer as drastically from that as most would. That's because "World on a Wire" is brilliant and thought-provoking, and follows many of the possibilities generated by its premise to their ends. Fearlessness is a great quality for a film to have, but it's especially important in sci-fi, where implications stack up more than in conventional narratives. Another feature of this genre that can make or break is how the world of the film is depicted visually. On that level, "World on a Wire" is extraordinary. Every set is exquisite, and Fassbinder doesn't waste an inch, utilizing each one completely.

I strongly recommend "World on a Wire" for anyone who loves to be puzzled by science fiction. It definitely comes through in many ways. The only other Fassbinder I've seen is "Ali: Fear Eats the Soul" (which, along with this film, features Elhedi Ben Salem, and seems very different, yet shares some of the same themes, like alienation), but I'm excited to check out more of his work, like "Berlin Alexanderplatz." For now, I'm glad I saw this film and I hope it'll delight those sci-fi fans who get the chance to see it (now that it's screening in various reparatory theaters). A-