(Les Choses Secretes)
In French with English subtitles

Some things are better off left a secret.

Directed by Jean-Claude Brisseau, this film follows two beautiful young women who use sex to manipulate men and climb the corporate ladder. Adhering to a strict set of relationship do’s and don’ts (don’t fall in love, don’t wear underwear, do fake orgasm) and after a series of important erotic lessons with each other regarding masturbation, how to properly fake orgasm, and how to make men so wildly jealous and insane with love that they want to relinquish their entire estate to you, Natalie and Sandrine set out to seduce and destroy Christophe, a Ken-doll look alike and heir to a large French bank.

Sandrine assumes an entry-level position within the bank thanks to a particularly short skirt. While long lusty stares, lip-biting, and bending over to pick up pens in said skirt work to drive other men at the firm crazy with desire, Christophe is not impressed. Rumor has it that women have doused themselves in gasoline and lit themselves aflame after he has broken up with them. Clearly, a heart-breaker. Sandrine has her work cut out for her.

Though Natalie created the rules, she can’t seem to abide by them. She has gone ahead and broken rule number one: Don’t Fall in Love. The object of her affection? Mr. Heartbreaker himself. He is just so irresistible. Can Sandrine manage to seduce him and get what she wants without falling for him too?

I am tired of these androcentric themes.

This is a silly and cliché film, kept afloat only by some titillating sex scenes, which recall Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut. Much like a soap opera, highly unbelievable changes happen overnight. We are obediently supposed to accept these things. Why? Because the mellifluous French voice-over says so.

Comedy is what saves this film from being a complete failure. Everything is just so ridiculous, you might as well laugh.

Credits:
Director: Jean-Claude Brisseau
Producer: Jean-Claude Brisseau, Jean-Francois Geneix
Screenplay: Jean-Claude Brisseau
Director of photography: Wilfred Sempe

Cast:
Sabrina Seyvecon,
Coralie Revel,
Roger Mirmont,
Fabrice Deville,
Blandine Buryas

Miramax Films and BBC Films / Celador Films Production

A horrifically lovely film. DIRTY PRETTY THINGS examines the lives of two displaced immigrants as they struggle to maintain their integrity and survive within an often unjust and cruel world.

Set in London, the story follows a Nigerian immigrant named Okwe (Chiwetel Ejiofor, AMISTAD) as he runs from the British immigration authorities and tries to maneuver himself out of the horrific black market business being run in the hotel where he works. Once a doctor in Lagos, Okwe is now a taxi cab driver by day and hotel concierge clerk by night. He never sleeps. Senay (Audrey Tatou, AMELIE), a Turkish girl, works in the hotel with Okwe and is also running from the authorities. Their predicament is one where cold-blooded and lawless behavior is rewarded and their virtuosity will get them killed.

Despite the harsh reality of the subject matter, the film has a strangely enchanting and atmospheric quality to it. Making allusions to biblical themes and Greek mythology, characters and objects are more than what they seem. The doorman to the hotel becomes the gatekeeper to the underworld; Senay becomes the obvious symbol of the Virgin Mary when juxtaposed with a brash prostitute; a mortician puts coins under tongues of the dead; crosses and human hearts seem elevated to relic status. Sleep and death are aligned in the film, perhaps referencing the greek myth of sleep (hypnos) and death (thanatos), twin brothers who reside in the underworld. With this in mind, Okwe’s insomnia takes on mythic implications.

Chiwetel Ejiofor as Okwe gives a subtle and startling good performance. Charming, graceful and very handsome, Ejiofor plays the part with ease, conveying the character’s inner struggle mostly through his large, expressive eyes.

An incredibly original script, the only dampener was the ending, which seemed to me quite unoriginal. The finale aside however, the film is riveting to watch, snowballing into an overwhelming nightmare.

Appropriately, I cannot recall very many scenes, if any, occurring outdoors. The setting is virtually always indoors or subterreanean: inside the hotel, inside a sweatshop, inside a basement morgue. This is an effective metaphor, emphasizing the characters entrapment: they are literally confined to low-paying, behind the scenes jobs and dirty work and are without options. What is emphasized is that as illegals, they have nothing and are nothing. Senay, for instance, a maid in the hotel, must clean up after strangers, make things look pretty and disappear. She is part of an entire occupational group, illegal or not, with no visibility. When she loses her job in the hotel, she has to resort to sweat-shop work, resulting in some of the more disturbing scenes I have seen in a long time.The nightmarish quality of the film is deeply rooted in the fact that such a predicament is many people’s reality.

Bringing up important social issues and making a plethora of interdisciplinary references along the way, DIRTY PRETTY THINGS seems deserving of a much longer, more extensive and academic critique than this one.

Cast:
Audrey Tautou (Senay)
Chiwetel Ejiofor (Okwe)
Sergi Lopez (Sneaky)

Credits:
Directed by Stephen Frears
Produced by Tracey Seaward and Robert Jones
Written by Steven Knight

Written/Directed by Lisa Chodolenko (HIGH ART), LAUREL CANYON is a complex film about relationships. If you were just grossly disappointed by that first sentence (which I suspect is about half of you), relax and read on. This one is worth it.

As in Chodolenko’s HIGH ART, the film’s main conflict is centered about the seductive draw of “otherness,” be it lifestyles, people, places, or situations unlike anything the protagonists have ever experienced.

The premise: Sam and his fiancé Alex, both recent graduates of Harvard Medical School, have moved to Los Angeles with plans to stay in Jane’s (Sam’s mother) house on Laurel Canyon and complete their studies. They are the serious, studious, straight-edge sort. Antithetically, Jane is free-spirited, new age-y, likes sex, pot, skinny-dipping and activities of the like. Conflict: Jane’s hippie ways are, for some reason, mortifyingly embarrassing to her son, who has huge reservations about introducing his new fiancé to her. Much to Sam’s dismay, the house is not empty as anticipated since Jane, a record producer, has stayed to complete a hit single for a British Band whose lead singer also happens to be her much younger lover. The house is gorgeous and expansive, complete with swimming pool, recording studio and views of the valley. Reluctantly, Sam and Alex decide to stay, on the condition that she will look for other lodgings where Jane will not be partying and having loud sex (in the evidently very thin-walled house).

Sam begins his residency at a nearby hospital. Back at the house, Alex settles into her makeshift study with a laptop and research data on the sexual activity of fruit flies. At first she avoids Jane and the band like the plague, but eventually, just as we expect, she is lured out of hiding and into the recording studio. So much for fruit flies (not to mention her imminent marriage). They are no match for the intrigue and on goings in the studio or for Jane herself. Ruggedly beautiful, Francis McDormand is captivating in this role, radiating strength, charm and a universal sex appeal that is, at times, palpable. I was, like Alex and the rest of Jane’s entourage, smitten with her. Jane is everything Alex is not: hard-ass, impulsive and comfortable with her sexuality. Ian, Jane’s rampantly sexual lover, holds further appeal still. Alessandro Nivola is a perfect pick for the part. Not only does he sing all his own songs, when he grins mischievously, you don’t quite know if you want to kick him or kiss him, and you sense this is Alex’s dilemma as well.

At the hospital, Sam is tantalized by Sara, a Siren disguised as a medical resident. Sara, played by Natasha McElhorne, is underdeveloped. She serves only to tempt Sam into bed; other than that, we are given scant insight into her. McElhorne does little to help the character along aside from giving a wide-eyed seductive stare every now again and I’m not completely convinced of her pull on Sam, who genuinely seems to value what he and Alex share. As Alex, Kate Beckinsale’s metamorphosis is a believable one, a credit to Chodolenko’s writing. Succumbing to her whims, she becomes flawed and human, and instantly more likable.

The film, of course, has its problems. The “lifestyles” in question are, at times, a bit too categorical and stereotyped. However, McDormand quickly allays the urge to criticize the second she walks into every frame; you truly understand why Alex loves her, though perhaps fleetingly so.

In closing, LAUREL CANYON is an ambitious film in all that it attempts to examine: relationships in all their complexities, intimacy, fidelity, sexuality and varying notions of success. To investigate such basic human concerns and commonalities and to do so believably is no easy feat, but powered by a poignant and witty script and an incredibly strong group of actors, Chodolenko succeeds.

Credits:
Written & Directed By : Lisa Cholodenko
Producers : Susan A. Stover, Jeffrey Levy-Hinte
Executive Producer : Scott Ferguson
Co-Producers : David McGiffert, Dara Weintraub
Director of Photography : Wally Pfister
Music Supervisor : Karyn Rachtman
Original Score : Craig Evans

Cast:
Jane : Frances McDormand
Sam : Christian Bale
Alex : Kate Beckinsale
Sara : Natasha McElhone
Ian : Alessando Nivola

Looking for a wildly entertaining diversion? Try CHICAGO. A modern-day musical, it has all the spunk and charm of a classic, with the added benefit of enhanced camera effects. Enhanced is hardly the word for it: it is explosive.

As much as I may have tried to remain skeptical about this movie, I was won over early on by the Cell Block Tango, a captivating dance performed by six sultry women on death row, explaining their crimes of passions with excuses like “And then he fell on my knife. 14 times.”

Set in the roaring ‘20s, we first encounter saucy Velma Kelly (Catherine Zeta-Jones), who has shot and killed her husband and sister when she catches them in bed together. A pity, since this not only means the end of her marriage but the end of her vaudeville sister-act. On death row, Velma has lawyered-up with Billy Flynn (Richard Gere) who is famous for never losing a case thanks to the extravagant (and bogus) defenses he orchestrates for his clients for a mere $5,000. Velma is further aided by the busty Matron “Mama” Morton (Queen Latifah), the warden of the women’s cell block who, for a modest cash tip, can get you products from the outside world (anything from cigarettes to hair bleach) and can advise you on your future in vaudeville when and if you make it out of jail.

With her name all over the headlines, Velma commands public sympathy until Roxie Hart (Renee Zellweger) murders her lover Fred Casely. She tries to get her husband Amos (John C. Reilly) to take the blame for it, but to no avail. Little blonde Roxy takes on Billy Flynn for her defense, befriends Mama, and steals Velma’s media spotlight, leaving her steaming. Velma suggests they join forces and start an act and Roxy snottily declines. She does not have the brains to understand the nature of media and that eventually a new, more sensational murder will push her out of the limelight too.

A particularly clever plot device is the fact that all the song and dance numbers occur in Roxie’s mind and thus “reality” and imagination are woven seamlessly throughout. For instance, external factors such as the tapping of water in Roxie’s jail cell sink or the rhythmic steps of a guard walking become the opening percussion in The Cell Block Tango.

John C. Reilly’s endearing performance as Amos, Roxie’s pathetically naïve husband is worth noting, as is his rendition of “Mr. Cellophane.” Never did a clown look so sad.
Catherine Zeta-Jones is a pleasure to watch in all her numbers, recalling Cyd Charisse’s good looks and sex appeal. She and Renee Zellweger make an odd pair, however. Catherine ends up looking incredibly large next to Renee’s tiny frame, which seems to detract from their dance numbers together.

Save a few scenes wherein Renee Zellweger’s performance seems awkward and forced, all in all, CHICAGO is an impressive achievement and a wild ride. So enjoy. It might just make you want to dance. Or incorporate fishnet stockings into your wardrobe.

(editor’s note: CHICAGO’s director, Rob Marshall, received a special award from the NBR at their annual gala ceremony. It was presented to him by Renee Zellweger and Richard Gere, who gushed that making the film was the most fun he’s ever had on a shoot. He then acknowledged that there were other directors he’d worked with in the audience, including Francis Ford Coppola, but without qualifying his jublilance, stuck to his guns that this was the high point in terms of enjoyability.)

Credits:
Director: Rob Marshall
Screenplay: Bill Condon
Producer: Martin Richards

Cast:
Renee Zellweger,
Catherine Zeta-Jones,
Richard Gere,
Queen Latifah,
John C. Reilly,
Christine Baranski

United Artists
Run time: 116 minute

TOGETHER, directed by Chen Kaige, feels epic. What I mean to say is, it is extensive and involved, with several sub-plots within the overarching story of a young boy’s coming of age.

The highly abridged plot is this: Xiaochun (Tang Yun) is a 13-year-old violin prodigy who lives with his father in a small provincial Chinese city. Wanting only what is best for his son, his father (Liu Peiqi) decides to move to Beijing, where they can find an appropriate violin teacher for Xiaochun who will help catapult him into a life of fame and fortune. Xiaochun, at first, is not as intent on a career as a famous violinist as his father is. He is 13. He is distracted. He likes girls. He tapes magazine clippings of Western-looking Asian models into his music notebooks. He ogles at women with a dumb, hypnotized look on his face.

Finding a teacher in Beijing is hard. Xiaochun has “heart” but no professional connections. Xiaochun’s studies with his first teacher are short lived. Professor Jiang (Wang Zhiwen), while a talented classical music instructor, is also an idiosyncratic recluse. He lives with several cats in a traditional little wooden house filled with trinkets and mementos of his past. He doesn’t clean and he doesn’t shower. He shirks his duties as Xiaochun’s teacher. Ultimately, it is the student who instills some wisdom in the teacher. Only as Xiaochun is leaving to begin his studies with another, more acclaimed instructor does Professor Jiang realize the caliber of the pupil he is losing. Throughout the film, the people Xiaochun encounters become a sort of surrogate family to him. This is true of his teachers, Professor Jiang and Professor Yu (played by Chen Kaige himself) or Lili (Chan Hong, Kaige’s wife and a producer of this film), the pretty older woman he befriends, who takes him in as a sort of “house boy,” to run errands with and play the violin for her.

Director Chen Kaige does a good job of juxtaposing “old world” and “new world” China. The cinematography is dynamic and beautiful and you are given a sense of just how overtly modernized everything in Beijing is compared to the province where Xiaochun and his father have left. What’s more, the film is constantly examining socioeconomic distinctions between people and it seems all characters are a direct representation of a their larger class. However, the classes are highly stereotyped and those of wealth (Profesor Yu, Lili) are presented as manipulative, shallow and selfish while Xiaochun and his father are kind and generous to the point of inducing cavities. However, figuratively speaking, everything Xiaochun touches turn to gold and ultimately everyone in the film is positively influenced and somehow changed as a result of knowing him.

A surprising aspect of the movie is the character of Xiaochun’s father. As the story begins, he is presented as the clown. Dopey but lovable, he is constantly getting himself into little street brawls that play out in a slap-stick, 3 Stooges type manner. I found these little bits of comedy unfunny and incongruous with the rest of the movie. However, one thing that cannot be said of the film is that the characters do not evolve. As the story progresses and ends in an intriguing plot twist (which I will spare you), his father’s plight becomes clear. He is, at once, transformed into a complex, charming and admirable individual.

Music ties the film together, no pun intended. Thanks to the phenomena of surround-sound, no matter where in the theater you sit its like having front-row seats to a star performance. If the story doesn’t make you cry, the violin playing just might. When it comes down to it, this is a story about love and the importance of filial bonds. In the end, love and loyalty prevail over the temptations of fame and fortune and, despite the film’s often cheesy and cliché moments, surprisingly I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Credits:
Directed by Chen Kaige
Written by Chen Kiage and Xue Xiao Lu
Produced by Ton Gang and Chen Hong
Music by Zhou Ying