Hipster Lollobrigida (via HardyAndNelson)
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A mini-fest of movies about soccer rivalries before the Portland Timbers play one of the biggest rivalry matches of the year.
from "Gringos at the Gate"It only follows that the world’s most popular sport should have a lot of movies made about it. But perhaps because soccer is still something of a novelty game in the United States, Hollywood isn’t making them.
Fortunately, it’s not that hard to find soccer movies, and even more fortunately there are the good folks behind the traveling film festival “Kicking + Screening” making it possible to see them.
“K+S” is a three-year old endeavor marrying the love of cinema with the love of the beautiful game. It’s been held in New York and Liverpool and Amsterdam and India, and it arrives here this week with a program built around Saturday’s epochal match between the Portland Timbers and their eternal antagonists the Seattle Sounders.
The theme of the program is, naturally, soccer rivalries, and the program consists of two nights of two films each. On Thursday, there are two films about the passionate teams and fans of South America, the feature film “Argentine Football Club” about the great enemy teams from Buenos Aires, Boca Juniors and River Plate, and the short “Loucos de Futebol” about a lesser-known rivalry in Brazil. On Friday, the focus is North America, with the feature film “Gringos at the Gate,” about the rivalry between the national teams of the United States and Mexico, and the short “A Most Improbable Life,” about a Mexican immigrant finding his love for the game in the USA.
On each night, there will be post-screening discussions with one of the filmmakers or another expert, including, on Thursday, Portland Timbers (and former Seattle Sounders) forward Mike Fucito.
Screenings will be held at Urban Studios (935 NW Davis) tickets for each night’s screenings are $13.
The festival launches on Wednesday night with “K + S Word,” a literary event featuring readings and presentation by a variety of local and national writers (including yours truly) discoursing on the subject of soccer rivalry and passion. The event is free, but donations are encouraged, with all proceeds -- including those from a raffle of soccer collectibles and other goodies -- going to Operation Pitch Invasion, a Portland not-for-profit charity dedicated to building, restoring and maintaining soccer fields in the parks and schools. (Yet more full disclosure: I serve on the board of OPI.)
Triomphe: Jean-Pierre Léaud and François Truffaut at the 1959 Cannes Film Festival (via MabelLonghetti)
The curator of a Northwest Film Center crime film series talks about the hardboiled Hollywood movies he loves.
“All you need to make a movie is a girl and a gun,” quipped Jean-Luc Godard famously, and while there are girls and guns in westerns and war films, you can’t help but think that Godard had in mind the sort of movie that French critics called film noir.
Movies about cynical private eyes, crooked cops, scheming dames, and fallen angels, about double-crosses, botched capers, framed innocents and psychopathic kill sprees, movies shot in dark shadows and sweaty close-ups, with titles like “D. O. A.,” “Gun Crazy,” “Kiss of Death,” and “The Devil Thumbs a Ride,” and stars like Robert Mitchum, Humphrey Bogart, Robert Ryan, Gloria Grahame, Lizabeth Scott, Claire Trevor: that’s Noir.
Just before World War II, the traditional Hollywood gangster movie began to give way to a new strain of crime story, often inspired by the works of hardboiled novelists Raymond Chandler and Dashiell Hammett, often made, at least in part, by directors and screenwriters who had arrived in California from Europe as war-time refugees. By the end of the ’40s, Noir was the essential American crime style, resulting in key works by such directors as Orson Welles, Otto Preminger, Raoul Walsh, and Jules Dassin and giving starts to the careers of, among others, Samuel Fuller, Phil Karlson and even Stanley Kubrick.
The story of Noir has been celebrated in documentaries and film festivals for decades, but one of the most notable collections ever to grace Portland is being shown this month at the Northwest Film Center. “Dangerous Desires: Film Noir Classics” is an impeccably curated selection of a dozen titles, all but two of them fairly obscure, and some of them not available for home viewing in any format.
The series has been mounted for the NFC by the Film Noir Foundation, which is, in its own words, “an educational resource regarding the cultural, historical, and artistic significance of film noir as an original American cinematic movement.” For the opening weekend of the series, Film Noir Foundation founder and president Eddie Muller, author of several books about Noir, will be on hand to present two of the titles, both in 35mm prints: “The Prowler,” Joseph Losey’s 1951 tale of a crooked cop (Van Heflin) lusting after a housewife; and “The Hunted,” a 1948 drama about an ex-con (the English actress Belita) out to seek vengeance against the people who sent her to prison.
In advance of his visit, Muller answered some questions about Noir in general and “Dangerous Desires” in particular via e-mail.
Film Noir historian Eddie MullerIn a sense, Noir is like jazz in that it was an American form first recognized as great in Europe. But Noir also has deep American roots. So is it an American art form or a European art form or something in between?
I was just using the jazz analogy with my fellow jurors at a film festival in Montreal. Slightly different context. I was suggesting that genre films -- especially crime films -- are like jazz in that the stories typically feature a familiar plot, the way many jazz classics derive from familiar structures and melodies, and we appreciate how different artists interpret the standard piece. Generally speaking, the foundation of noir--the writing, the style of the language--comes from America, specifically that fresh American masculine voice that emerged post WW1, most famously in Hemingway. When his style was adapted to crime stories in the late 1920s and '30s, most successfully for writers such as Dashiell Hammett, James M. Cain, and Raymond Chandler, the seeds of noir were planted. The visual allure of noir, however, the classic chiaroscuro lighting and heightened theatricality, largely came with the influx of European directors trained in Berlin: Fritz Lang, Billy Wilder, Robert Siodmak, Otto Preminger -- even Alfred Hitchcock to some extent. Noir is the result of a tough American attitude mixing it up with a sophisticated European style.
So many Noir classics were made at small studios or by second- (or third-) tier units at the big studios, which makes me wonder if there was, during the classic era, a size beyond which Noir could not go. Could there have been (or are there any) A-movie Noirs?
Absolutely. Every studio produced "noir" on both A and B levels. Once “Double Indemnity” was a box office hit, and was nominated for five Oscars, films of that type became extremely popular. Alan Ladd was Paramount's biggest box office draw, and he made film noir almost exclusively for awhile -- “This Gun for Hire,” “The Glass Key,” “The Blue Dahlia,” etc. Bogart is almost synonymous with noir and he was Warner's biggest draw of the 1940s. Over at Fox, films like “Kiss of Death” and “Nightmare Alley” were absolutely A-list films utilizing the studios biggest stars. At MGM, Louis B. Mayer HATED these kinds of films, but that didn't stop the studio from making them -- and MGM rarely made ‘cheap’ movies. In this series, “High Wall” is a classic example: Robert Taylor was one of the MGM's biggest stars, and this film is almost definitive noir, and a definite "A" production. Poverty Row studios loved this type of film because it required so little in terms of locations, cast size, production. “Detour” is the obvious example. I always say: "All you need to have a good film noir is a man, a woman, and a locked hotel room."
The Noir era was over when the Hays Production Code (Hollywood’s self-imposed system of film censorship) finally collapsed. But Noir did so many great things in a kind of friction or dialectic against what the censors might've quashed. Could the classic Noir have flourished had there been complete freedom of content and themes?
Excellent question! I'm not sure of the answer, but I absolutely believe that the existence of the Production Code and the rise of film noir are organically entwined. And I also believe that the Code made filmmakers -- from writers and directors right through to editors and wardrobe designers -- more innovative and creative. The goal was to tell more daring and adult stories without being ‘obvious’ about things like sex, addiction, abortion, homosexuality, you name it. But all that stuff is in there, albeit often in codified fashion. But that's part of the reason the films remain timeless -- they are rarely as simple as we believed them to be. I've had the advantage of watching many of these films with people who worked on them or acted in them and they left me with little doubt about what was being suggested. The filmmakers were often playing a game with the censors, seeing how they could get things into the films. We're really just catching up.
Leaving out the US, France and Germany, which are its chief homes or the places of origin of so many of its innovators, what nations have Noir traditions worth exploring that might not leap readily to mind?
I'm investigating this right now. I plan to do a festival of International Noir. What's obvious to me, having traveled abroad with just this notion in mind, is how wrongly Hollywood-centric the study of film noir has been. As far back as the 1940s there was a trans-Continental give-and-take going on, and not just between the U.S. and Europe. There is an extensive ‘noir’ history in Japan, in Britain, in Spain, in Mexico, Italy, Greece, in Argentina. I've recently seen some wonderful noir films from Buenos Aires, made contemporaneous with the late 1940s noir classics from Hollywood. Many of them have never been seen outside Argentina! Hollywood undoubtedly had the greatest influence on filmmaking around the world, and it's thrilling to see how the noir style was adapted to, or reinterpreted in, different cultures.
What films in this series do you reckon most people haven't seen and should not miss?
All of them, frankly. I'm a true believer: If you haven't seen it on movie screen, projected in 35mm, then you haven't seen the actual film. Some of these -- like “The Hunted,” “Pitfall,” “Loophole,” and “Naked Alibi” -- you simply cannot see right now anywhere else than in a series like this. There literally are single prints of these films, and many of them are in the Film Noir Foundation Collection at the UCLA Film & Television Archive. We have funded the preservation of these titles, and the only way they get shown is with our say-so. So I'm glad the Northwest Film Center asked, because I like to spread the Noir gospels.
Where: The Whitsell Auditorium of the Portland Art Museum, 1219 SW Park Ave.
Tickets: $9 general; $8 PAM members, students, seniors; $6 NFC Silver Screen members, children
“The Prowler” Friday, September 14, 7 p.m.
“The Hunter” Saturday, September 15, 9 p.m.
“Nobody Lives Forever” Sunday, September 16, 7 p.m.
“Pitfall” Thursday, September 20, 7 p.m.
“The Glass Key” Saturday, September 22, 7 p.m.
“The Blue Dahlia” Saturday, September 22, 9 p.m.
“The Window” Sunday, September 23, 7 p.m.
“Caught” Friday, September 28, 7 p.m.
“High Wall” Saturday, September 29, 7 p.m.
“99 River Street” Saturday, September 29, 9 p.m.
“Loophole” Sunday, September 30, 5 p.m.
“The Naked Alibi” Sunday, September 30, 7 p.m.
Reviews of this week's new releases in Portland-area theaters.
from "Samsara"
This guy. I remember this guy.
The five films playing in Portland-area theaters that I'd soonest see again.
Rodriguez in "Searching for Sugar Man"1) "Beasts of the Southern Wild" A dreamy and joyous film about life, death, hope, dreams and wonder on an island in the Mississippi Delta. The miraculous young Quevezhané Wallis stars as Hushpuppy, a wee girl who experiences life in the feral community known as the Bathtub as a stream of wonder and delight, even though her dad (Dwight Henry) is gruff, her mom is absent and a killer storm is bearing down on her home. Writer-director Behn Zeitlin, in his feature debut, combines poetry and audacity in ways that recall Terrence Malick, but with a light and spry touch. Still, all his great work pales in comparison to the stupendous little Wallis, whom you'll never forget. Hollywood, Living Room
2) "Moonrise Kingdom" Wes Anderson films are such a specific taste that I'm a bit hesitant to suggest that this might be his most approachable (but surely not crowd-pleasing) work. In the wake of the delightful "The Fantastic Mr. Fox," Anderson returns to live-action and his familiar tics and habits in a tale of young (as in 'pre-teen') lovers on the run. Newcomers Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward fill the lead roles delightfully, and Anderson's muses Bill Murray and Jason Schwartzman are joined ably by Edward Norton, Bruce Willis and Frances McDormand, among others. It's a light and breezy film with a very sweet heart and old-fashioned sturdiness. Even if you were left puzzled by the likes of "Rushmore" or "The Royal Tenenbaums" (still his best non-animated films, for me), this is likely to win you over. Cine Magic, Fox Tower, St Johns
3) "The Bourne Legacy" A dense, slick and thrilling spy movie that's got as much brain power as brawn. Writer-director Tony Gilroy ("Michael Clayton") turns the trilogy of films about Jason Bourne into the story of Aaron Cross (Jeremy Renner), another souped-up intelligence operative on the run from the secretive organizations which built him. The film cleverly integrates the story of the previous three, but stands alone as a gripping story about a man trying to extend the only life that he has come to know and depending on a geneticist (Rachel Weisz) and his own abilities to stay alive. From the complex narrative to the thrilling final half-hour, it's top shelf stuff. multiple locations
4) "Searching for Sugar Man" A truly remarkable documentary that demonstrates how big and how small this world of ours can be. Rodriguez was a Detroit singer-songwriter whose poetic and soulful music deserved a much bigger career than the little blip it experienced in the early '70s. But, in fact, that bigger career did exist: in South Africa, where Rodriguez was a huge star and didn't know it. So obscure was Rodriguez in his homeland, in fact, that his overseas fans long believed he had killed himself in an baroque onstage apocalypse. The Swedish filmmaker Malik Bendjelloul tracks this amazing history and then witnesses a third act that you simply have to see to believe. Mind-blowing, heartwarming and true. Fox Tower
5) "Robot & Frank" Frank Langella is a delight in a film about a curmudgeonly retiree whose children foist a robot on him to monitor his diet, activities and housework. The grumpy old fella hates the little electronic buddy (whose voice is provided by Peter Sarsgaard), then he realizes he has a use for it: he devises a means to use it to get back into his life's work, which happens to be burglary. Debuting director Jake Schreier and screenwriter Christopher D. Ford nicely balance the mild sci-fi with human comedy, and a sharp supporting cast, which includes Susan Sarandon, James Marsden and Liv Tyler, give the great Langella all the room he needs to be wonderful. Fox Tower
Two documentaries of diverse style and aims show what can happen when first-world filmmakers take a look at other cultures.
from "Samsara"Two films new to town open some fascinating questions about the nature of non-fiction filmmaking and the ways in which First World artists and journalists confront the Third World.
“Samsara” is a sumptuous film by Ron Fricke, who directed “Baraka” and was cinematographer of “Koyaanisqatsi.” Like those films, “Samsara” is a non-narrative vision of the panoply of the world -- people, animals, geological and meteorological phenomena, buildings, wastelands, metropolises -- edited together to a musical accompaniment.
The word ‘samsara’ means ‘continuous flow of life’ in Tibetan, and Fricke and company surely experienced that sensation in making the film, which took them to 25 countries in a span of five years. They have put together a thoughtful and profoundly gorgeous film in which the works of humanity are celebrated and questioned, the colossal scale of nature is revealed, the cruelties and grotesqueries of life are laid bare. It was shot in 70mm, and it’s one of the most immersive things the screen has shown us in years.
There’s a lot of immersion in “The Ambassador,” a documentary which ‘stars’ its director, Mads Brugger, a Danish journalist who, in an undercover expose of corruption in Africa, dives into the world of false diplomatic credentials, crooked governments and blood diamonds. Buying, outright, the title of consul from the Liberian government, Brugger sets himself up in the Central African Republic as a businessman-slash-diplomat, pretending to be interesting in building a match factory but actually forming liaisons with diamond miners and using his diplomatic passport to remove the gems from the country illegally.
Mads Brugger in "The Ambassador"Brugger isn’t like Michael Moore or Morgan Spurlock, puckishly tweaking a perceived ill in the world at the service of an agenda. He’s more like a Graham Greene character or a sober (-ish) Hunter S. Thompson, diving into the darkness and taking an active role in it so as to shed light on it. (With his cigarette holder, riding boots and combat glasses, he strongly evokes Thompson’s Raoul Duke persona.) There’s a touch of whimsy to his misadventures, but the malfeasance he uncovers -- often using hidden cameras and microphones -- is anything but a joke.
The superficial differences between the films are stark. Fricke and company set out to create a work of art and have an emblem for their efforts in a gorgeous mandala created by Himalayan monks. Billions of grains of colored sand are used to ‘paint’ an extraordinarily complex image which, eventually, is wiped away into nothingness, a perfect metaphor for human life. Brugger, on the other hand, provokes (albeit without much effort) specific acts of criminality and his subjects tumble into holes they themselves have dug. In his wake, there’s something of a mess: a lot of money changes hands, some illegal diamonds are in circulation, and no one is arrested or put out of business; the ugly little world he has detailed carries on.
It would be easy to point a finger at Brugger as a provocateur and hold up Fricke as a pure chronicler, but it’s not as simple as that. Fricke has a point, too, and the way “Samsara” juxtaposes, say, overfed folks shopping at Costco with people picking the stuff of life out of a garbage dump in South America makes a case as damning as anything in “The Ambassador.” Every edit in cinema has the potential to carry a moral argument, establishing equivalences or disparities between the subjects of two shots, and “Samsara,” for all its holism, isn’t free from the sort of specific contingencies and perspectives that “The Ambassador” explicitly embraces.
In a sense, too, both films present us with portraits of the world as seen from a vantage of privilege. Brugger, as a white man in sub-Saharan Africa with bags of money and a diplomatic passport, is able to get people to say and do things as shockingly and disturbingly raw as anything Sacha Baron Cohen has ever managed. He isn’t exactly preying on innocents, but he’s certainly engaging in subterfuge to make bad folks behave badly: a fairly obvious point. And you strongly suspect that he’d have a far less easy time pulling off his elaborate hoax in a culture more familiar with his brand of journalistic stunts.
Fricke’s intent is, for the most part, nobler -- a vision of the world as unified by the works and forces of humanity and nature -- but he, too, puts people in a frame of his own devising. The visions of “Samsara” can be breathtaking -- a field of temples in ancient Myanmar, the sand-sculpted canyon walls of Utah, the neurological web of nighttime traffic in Los Angeles, the stupefying power of Iguazu Falls. But when he focuses on people, the mask of aesthetic indifference drops and you sense yourself being pushed toward a point of view about sex, food, guns, labor, what have you. Maybe you agree with him, maybe you don’t, but an argument is being made under the guise of objective revelation. The extraordinary beauty of the work doesn’t change the fact that there’s some preaching going on behind the screen.
“The Ambassador” (93 min., unrated, probably PG-13, Hollywood Theatre) Grade: B
“Samsara” (102 min., PG-13, Fox Tower) Grade: B-plus
A story about a novel about a novel should have been erased from the word processor, not made into a film.
Jeremy Irons in "The Words"Several words are suggested by “The Words,” and none of them are, you reckon, the ones its makers had in mind.
Let’s start with ‘nitwit.’
“The Words” is a nitwit story about a nitwit author who has written a nitwit novel about a nitwit author who has published a nitwit novel which, in fact, he has stolen wholecloth from another writer whose personal behavior, as fictionalized in the novel-within-the-novel-within-the-film, can charitably be described as...nitwit.
There’s also ‘phony.’ Everything about “The Words” feels phony: the depiction of the writing life; the story of the ‘real’ novelist (that is, the one in the outermost circle) being preyed upon by a journalist; the working and private lives of the novelist in the ‘real’ fellow’s novel; the tale of love and loss in wartime at the innermost core of this utterly unengaging not-really-a-puzzle.
For the record, Dennis Quaid is epically miscast as the ‘real’ novelist, a miscue you almost don’t notice because Bradley Cooper, whom it is hard to imagine reading anything more challenging than a Ziggy cartoon, is playing the purloining novelist in his creation. Jeremy Irons appears, crusty and lovelorn, as the wronged author at the core of it all, and he’s the only one of the three who seems remotely capable of having composed a sentence, which I suppose adds to the theme of how cruel fate and publishing are, but not in a way the writer-directors of the film intended, surely.
Oh, and one more word comes to mind: ‘kidding,’ as in, ‘you’ve got to be....’ The writer-directors of “The Words” are, you see, Brian Klugman and Lee Sternthal, whose sole previous behind-the-camera screen credit came as the co-writers of...“TRON: Legacy.”
You know, I take it back: There are no words.
(96 min., PG-13, multiple locations) Grade: D
A film meant to evoke "Do the Right Thing" is more muddled than powerful.
Clarke Peters in "Red Hook Summer"In the 23 (!) years since the fiery summer's day of "Do the Right Thing," Spike Lee has had some moments of glory ("Malcolm X," "Inside Man," "4 Little Girls") and inspiration ("Crooklyn," "Clockers," "25th Hour"), but he's never been able to capture the same power, pop energy, passion and polemic force as in that epochal film.
To see his newest work, "Red Hook Summer," is too see how far Lee is from his impressive best. A companion, of sorts, to "Right Thing," the film takes place in another Brooklyn summer, with young Flik (Jules Brown) dropped by his Georgia-based mom to live for a few months with her dad, Enoch (Clarke Peters), a storefront preacher and boiler repairman in the local housing projects.
It's something of a coming-of-age story, with Flik learning the harsh ropes of big city life alongside an almost-sweetheart (Toni Lysaith) and avoiding the neighborhood tough guys (led by Nate Parker). Mookie the pizza man (Lee himself) makes an appearance (illogically still delivering pies on foot from Sal's Famous, which is nowhere near Red Hook), and there are other diversions, both filmic and narrative which sometimes engage but more often eat up time frustratingly.
The highlights, without question, are Bishop Enoch's fiery, musical, galvanizing sermons, which dot the story and are implicated with a sensationalist turn in its final portion. Peters ("The Wire") is superb in these scenes, without which "Red Hook Summer" would be a vague and somewhat desperate attempt to rekindle past promises. Lee is, as ever, a gifted image-maker, but his storytelling has gotten so lax over time as to barely register. This isn't the "Right Thing" in any sense.
(121 min., R, Hollywood Theatre) Grade: C-plus
Lads: JFK and FAS at the DNC, 1960 (via HumphreysBogart)
The comedian/filmmaker will barnstorm Portland on Saturday.
Mike Birbiglia in "Sleepwalk with Me"The indie comedy "Sleepwalk with Me," about the struggles of a lovelorn comedian/monologist looks more than a bit autobiographical: it was co-written and co-directed by its star, Mike Birbiglia, who is, you guessed it, a comedian/monologist who has made some comic/philosophical hay of his star-crossed professional and romantic ups-and-downs.
You'll get a chance to compare the on-screen fellow to the real one this Saturday when Birbiglia comes to Portland's Cinema 21 to introduce the film and participate in q-and-a sessions after some screenings. Specifically, Birbiglia will chat with the audience after the 4:30 and 9:00 shows and introduce the 7:00 shows. Inbetween, he'll be participating in the live taping of an episode of the Live Wire radio variety show.
Busy lad: hope he has time to visit Powell's or take in a food cart....
“If she asks, tell her you served two terms….”
New releases in Portland-area theaters not reviewed in this week's A&E.
from "Iron Sky"“Batman” Tim Burton’s 1989 revival of the DC Comics hero, with Michael Keaton and Jack Nicolson; presented by Cort and Fatboy. (Bagdad Theater, Friday only)
“Beloved" Real-life mother and daughter Catherine Deneuve and Chiara Mastroianni in a tale of women finding confusion in romance. (Living Room Theaters)
“The Best of the Northwest Animation Festival” A selection of highlights from the recent event. (Hollywood Theatre, Saturday only)
“Chinatown” Roman Polanski’s fabulous 1974 noir, with Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway and John Huston and a near-perfect Robert Towne script. (Cedar Hills, Clackamas Town Center, Eastport; Thursday, September 13 only)
“The Cold Light of Day” Thriller about kidnapping and CIA hijinks. With Bruce Willis and Henry Cavill. (multiple locations)
“The Inbetweeners” English coming-of-age comedy based on cult hit TV series. (Fox Tower)
“Iron Sky” Nazis have been hiding out on the moon, apparently (thanks for the warning, Neil Armstrong!), and now they’re coming back. (Living Room Theaters)
“Kicking and Screening” A collection of four films about soccer rivalries around the world. (Urban Studios, 925 NW Davis, Thursday September 13 and Friday September 14 only)
“Moving Mountains” Made-in-Portland documentary from 1991 about Southeast Asians settling in the Pacific Northwest. (Northwest Film Center, Thursday only)
“Rumbon Tropical” Documentary about Cuban dance masters. (Clinton Street Theater, Friday only)
“This Is Now” Drama about a man traveling from Portland to Seattle as part of a quest for meaning in his life. (Clinton Street Theater, Saturday through Wednesday only)
“Turn Me on, Dammit!” Norwegian coming-of-age comedy. (Clinton Street Theater, Saturday through Wednesday only)
“Uncle Buck” The late John Candy stars in the late John Hughes’ comedy about an inept but big-hearted surrogate dad. (Laurelhurst Theater)
“Will the Real Terrorist Please Stand Up?” Documentary about the long history of hostilities between Cuba and the United States. (Clinton Street Theater, Thursday only)
New releases in Portland-area theaters not reviewed in this week's A&E.
from "Iron Sky"“Batman” Tim Burton’s 1989 revival of the DC Comics hero, with Michael Keaton and Jack Nicolson; presented by Cort and Fatboy. (Bagdad Theater, Friday only)
“Beloved" Real-life mother and daughter Catherine Deneuve and Chiara Mastroianni in a tale of women finding confusion in romance. (Living Room Theaters)
“The Best of the Northwest Animation Festival” A selection of highlights from the recent event. (Hollywood Theatre, Saturday only)
“Chinatown” Roman Polanski’s fabulous 1974 noir, with Jack Nicholson, Faye Dunaway and John Huston and a near-perfect Robert Towne script. (Cedar Hills, Clackamas Town Center, Eastport; Thursday, September 13 only)
“The Cold Light of Day” Thriller about kidnapping and CIA hijinks. With Bruce Willis and Henry Cavill. (multiple locations)
“The Inbetweeners” English coming-of-age comedy based on cult hit TV series. (Fox Tower)
“Iron Sky” Nazis have been hiding out on the moon, apparently (thanks for the warning, Neil Armstrong!), and now they’re coming back. (Living Room Theaters)
“Kicking and Screening” A collection of four films about soccer rivalries around the world. (Urban Studios, 925 NW Davis, Thursday September 13 and Friday September 14 only)
“Moving Mountains” Made-in-Portland documentary from 1991 about Southeast Asians settling in the Pacific Northwest. (Northwest Film Center, Thursday only)
“Rumbon Tropical” Documentary about Cuban dance masters. (Clinton Street Theater, Friday only)
“This Is Now” Drama about a man traveling from Portland to Seattle as part of a quest for meaning in his life. (Clinton Street Theater, Saturday through Wednesday only)
“Turn Me on, Dammit!” Norwegian coming-of-age comedy. (Clinton Street Theater, Saturday through Wednesday only)
“Uncle Buck” The late John Candy stars in the late John Hughes’ comedy about an inept but big-hearted surrogate dad. (Laurelhurst Theater)
“Will the Real Terrorist Please Stand Up?” Documentary about the long history of hostilities between Cuba and the United States. (Clinton Street Theater, Thursday only)
Catch 'em while you can!
Ai WeiWei in "Ai WeiWei: Never Sorry"
Everything old is new again!
"Chinatown" Whenever I'm asked what my favorite film is, I always say this one, even if, at that moment, it's really something else. A perfect film which I happened to see at just the right moment of my cinema education. (Cedar Hills, Clackamas Town Center, Eastport; Thursday, September 13 only)
"The Devil, Probably" A despairing vision of teen ennui from Robert Bresson from 1977, marking one of the last films of his career. (Northwest Film Center, Sunday and Monday only)
"Pickpocket" Another Bresson, this one from 1959, echoing "Crime and Punishment" in its depiction of a thief whose heart turns toward the light. A classic. (Northwest Film Center, Saturday only)
"Uncle Buck" The late lamented John Candy under the aegis of the late lamented John Hughes. Bittersweet, in that light, for a comedy.... (Laurelhurst)
Shawn Levy's books include the best-sellers The Castle on Sunset, Rat Pack Confidential, Paul Newman: A Life, King of Comedy: The Life and Art of Jerry Lewis, and Dolce Vita Confidential.
He also wrote and narrated the podcast Glitter & Might. The former film critic of The Oregonian and KGW-TV, he has written for Sight and Sound, Film Comment, American Film, Interview, The New York Times, The Los Angeles Times, The Guardian, The Hollywood Reporter, and The Black Rock Beacon. He jumps and claps and sings for victory in Portland, Oregon.
