by Takis Garis (@takisgaris)
Episode 3 - The Sessions Continue
> GOD LOVES CAVIAR (5/10)
In times of economic turmoil for my country, Greece, Yiannis Smaragdis (Kavafis, El Greco) continues ostensibly to think big, in terms of production values. I guess the russian funding should have played a decisive role to that daring project. Honestly, the epic story of the born greek pirate Varvakis, albeit little known to his compatriots, apart from being acclaimed as one of new greek state (1830) great benefactors, was a life lived to the fullest, passion- driven, danger-defying and personal tragedies overridden. It’s a common pattern for Smaragdis to preserve traditional, nearly fairy tale-like storytelling, entertaining a history lesson for grade students, rather than aimimng for a more individual, less folklore approach. There are always the pros and the cons that come with this combo: idyllic cinematography, uplifting score to pinpoint the present importance of its message, almost linear character development. Easy come-easy go. Add the indispensable in such multinational projects funny man John Cleese and grand dame Catherine Deneuve, a plethora of greek stars in cosmetic roles (Lakis Lazopoulos, Giannis Vouros, Pavlos Kontogiannidis, Akis Sakellariou) and a strong masculine lead, a cross between George Corraphace and Pasxalis Charouhas (Sebastian Koch, back from obscurity after The Lives of Others). The film opened here in a small screening room to a couple dozens of journalists. I hope it fare significantly better after its greek release, come early October. This is not the freaky new wave of greek art house film as signalled lately by George Lanthimos and co, but it will appeal to infrequent moviegoers, who use to overflow greek movie theaters a decade ago with Politiki Kouzina.
In times of economic turmoil for my country, Greece, Yiannis Smaragdis (Kavafis, El Greco) continues ostensibly to think big, in terms of production values. I guess the russian funding should have played a decisive role to that daring project. Honestly, the epic story of the born greek pirate Varvakis, albeit little known to his compatriots, apart from being acclaimed as one of new greek state (1830) great benefactors, was a life lived to the fullest, passion- driven, danger-defying and personal tragedies overridden. It’s a common pattern for Smaragdis to preserve traditional, nearly fairy tale-like storytelling, entertaining a history lesson for grade students, rather than aimimng for a more individual, less folklore approach. There are always the pros and the cons that come with this combo: idyllic cinematography, uplifting score to pinpoint the present importance of its message, almost linear character development. Easy come-easy go. Add the indispensable in such multinational projects funny man John Cleese and grand dame Catherine Deneuve, a plethora of greek stars in cosmetic roles (Lakis Lazopoulos, Giannis Vouros, Pavlos Kontogiannidis, Akis Sakellariou) and a strong masculine lead, a cross between George Corraphace and Pasxalis Charouhas (Sebastian Koch, back from obscurity after The Lives of Others). The film opened here in a small screening room to a couple dozens of journalists. I hope it fare significantly better after its greek release, come early October. This is not the freaky new wave of greek art house film as signalled lately by George Lanthimos and co, but it will appeal to infrequent moviegoers, who use to overflow greek movie theaters a decade ago with Politiki Kouzina.
> THE WE AND THE I (4/10)
Who isn’t really a big aficionado for Michel Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? Even fascinated by the big ideas nesting on The Science of Sleep, several years before Looper’s recent time travel novelties. An inspired, world renowned music video director and a visual artist in the literal sense of the notion, the Frenchman didn’t exactly struck gold with his hallow, Seth Rogen scripted adaptation of The Green Hornet for the Hollywood blockbuster scene. Viewed under this prism, The We and The I comes initially as a welcome surprise, a pilgrim to the Bronx community centre(s) scene, flooded by black and Hispanic students, kids that usually don’t have the lion’s share in life, strained by dysfunctional families and empty pockets. But, you know, they’re kids, not horny meanies in the sense of Ken Clark’s ambiguous peeping tom show- it -all epic, or dazed and confused like the little serial killers in Gus Van Sant’s superior Elephant. Gondry doesn’t strive for excellence; this is more than apparent here. He’s keen interest focuses on chit chat, pranks, borderline violent exchange, bullying and acceptance at the age of sexual awakenings. All that jazz which is shapes our characters through this morpheme which we signify as adolescence. As a short, (around 45 min.) The We would mean much more than The I, this bus trip on the last day of school, feels running much more than the 90 min. of its actual duration. At very end, the appropriate preaching and happy ending knocks heavily on our door, giving away too much of Gondry’s best intentions. What’s left is the remnants of a day spent in our junior citizen’s private moments, an odour that can be simultaneously fresh and stale, depending on the side we are propelled to choose.
Who isn’t really a big aficionado for Michel Gondry’s Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? Even fascinated by the big ideas nesting on The Science of Sleep, several years before Looper’s recent time travel novelties. An inspired, world renowned music video director and a visual artist in the literal sense of the notion, the Frenchman didn’t exactly struck gold with his hallow, Seth Rogen scripted adaptation of The Green Hornet for the Hollywood blockbuster scene. Viewed under this prism, The We and The I comes initially as a welcome surprise, a pilgrim to the Bronx community centre(s) scene, flooded by black and Hispanic students, kids that usually don’t have the lion’s share in life, strained by dysfunctional families and empty pockets. But, you know, they’re kids, not horny meanies in the sense of Ken Clark’s ambiguous peeping tom show- it -all epic, or dazed and confused like the little serial killers in Gus Van Sant’s superior Elephant. Gondry doesn’t strive for excellence; this is more than apparent here. He’s keen interest focuses on chit chat, pranks, borderline violent exchange, bullying and acceptance at the age of sexual awakenings. All that jazz which is shapes our characters through this morpheme which we signify as adolescence. As a short, (around 45 min.) The We would mean much more than The I, this bus trip on the last day of school, feels running much more than the 90 min. of its actual duration. At very end, the appropriate preaching and happy ending knocks heavily on our door, giving away too much of Gondry’s best intentions. What’s left is the remnants of a day spent in our junior citizen’s private moments, an odour that can be simultaneously fresh and stale, depending on the side we are propelled to choose.
> THE SESSIONS (7/10)
The perfect Sundance2012 hit, purchased by Fox Searchlight for $6M, for one thing, had a fame preceding today’s press screening. A packed theater, every pundit came to check this oddly optimistic, autobiographic take on the 38 year old Mark O’Brien (John Hawkes) polio story and his basic human right to…finally enjoy sexual intercourse. The (sex) Surrogate (the movie’s less appealing former title) in his case is the troubled urbanite -mother & wife, Cheryl Cohen-Greene (Helen Hunt), who (guess what) falls for the wit and perseverance of her client-patient. Helmer Lewin hasn’t stricken a chord with his hit-n-miss Paperback Romance, some 18 years ago, an obvious abstinence that costs him her a sure hand direction and bolder visual choices. Still, he should feel the luckiest guy around, for Hawkes, no resemblance with his iconic perfs in Winter’s Bone and Martha Macy May Marlene whatsoever, is finally no virgin to leading man roles and he is simply, disarmingly phenomenal. Hunt is back in the game like no day has passed since her Oscar turn in As Good As it Gets, albeit it’s hard to resist lamenting on her immovable forehead (a pity, she has exquisitely expressive facial features). William H. Macy’s priest persona, totally understanding & supportive to Mark’s physical needs, provides the film’s spiritual center and message’s epitome; we all are human beings, entitled to live a life that gives us joy and affection. There’s nothing more sacred than that. No guilt or sin involved between the sun and our eyes. Laughter and tears, followed by wide applause, are enough exhibits to guarantee The Sessions’ artistic success as adult comedy of the year, all the way up to the Oscars.
The perfect Sundance2012 hit, purchased by Fox Searchlight for $6M, for one thing, had a fame preceding today’s press screening. A packed theater, every pundit came to check this oddly optimistic, autobiographic take on the 38 year old Mark O’Brien (John Hawkes) polio story and his basic human right to…finally enjoy sexual intercourse. The (sex) Surrogate (the movie’s less appealing former title) in his case is the troubled urbanite -mother & wife, Cheryl Cohen-Greene (Helen Hunt), who (guess what) falls for the wit and perseverance of her client-patient. Helmer Lewin hasn’t stricken a chord with his hit-n-miss Paperback Romance, some 18 years ago, an obvious abstinence that costs him her a sure hand direction and bolder visual choices. Still, he should feel the luckiest guy around, for Hawkes, no resemblance with his iconic perfs in Winter’s Bone and Martha Macy May Marlene whatsoever, is finally no virgin to leading man roles and he is simply, disarmingly phenomenal. Hunt is back in the game like no day has passed since her Oscar turn in As Good As it Gets, albeit it’s hard to resist lamenting on her immovable forehead (a pity, she has exquisitely expressive facial features). William H. Macy’s priest persona, totally understanding & supportive to Mark’s physical needs, provides the film’s spiritual center and message’s epitome; we all are human beings, entitled to live a life that gives us joy and affection. There’s nothing more sacred than that. No guilt or sin involved between the sun and our eyes. Laughter and tears, followed by wide applause, are enough exhibits to guarantee The Sessions’ artistic success as adult comedy of the year, all the way up to the Oscars.
gaRis
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