Comedy. Directed and written by Aki Kaurismaki. (PG-13. 97 minutes. In Finnish
with English subtitles. At the Lumiere, Rafael Film Center in San Rafael and
Camera in San Jose.)
A master of minimalism, Finland’s Aki Kaurismaki makes films that are so
dry, so delicately ironic that they seem on the verge of crumbling in front of
us — but they never do. In “The Man Without a Past,” an Oscar nominee for
best foreign-language film, Kaurismaki introduces a nameless hero, beaten by
thugs and left for dead, who survives but is left without memory.
The laws in Helsinki aren’t kind to amnesiacs — they don’t qualify for
social assistance, they’re arrested as “insubordinates” — but the man gets by
with charity and luck.
An abandoned freight container becomes his home, a family of waterfront
hoboes offer community, and a prim, lonely Salvation Army worker (Kati
Outinen) becomes his unexpected sweetheart.
Poker-faced Markku Peltola is ideal as the hulking amnesiac, setting a tone
of loopy disorientation. He’s a doleful blank, a cast-off mattress seeking a
home, and his situation is treated with sad/sweet, Chaplinesque pathos.
But with Kaurismaki, even pathos has an edge of irony. He undercuts the
narrative with goofy dialogue (”If you see me face down in the gutter, turn me
on my back”) and slips in American pop songs that gently mock the hero’s
shabby circumstances.
Blessed by gods that seem to smile from above, the hero connects with a
Salvation Army band, turns it on to rhythm and blues, and becomes a small-time
rock promoter. Another director might milk this reversal of fortune for tears
and sentiment, but Kaurismaki is meticulous in his spareness.
He trusts us to find the humor and the humanity that coexist in his world
and in the process retains a purity of style and intent.
– Edward Guthmann
‘LILYA 4-EVER’
Drama. Starring Oksana Akinshina, Artiom Bogucharskij. Directed and written
by Lukas Moodysson. (R. 109 minutes. In Russian and Swedish, with English
subtitles. At the Opera Plaza and Shattuck in Berkeley.)
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Swedish filmmaker Lukas Moodysson made the wonderfully buoyant films “Show
Me Love,” about teenage lesbians, and “Together,” a look at 1970s idealists.
But every Scandinavian director has to have a bleak side, and Moodysson shows
his in “Lilya 4-Ever,” the riveting, unflinching story of a 16-year-old
prostitute in an unnamed former Soviet republic. Lars von Trier’s work is
upbeat by comparison.
Lilya (Oksana Akinshina) doesn’t start out as a prostitute but rather as a
spirited teenager bragging of an imminent move to America with her mother and
her mother’s boyfriend. But when Mom instead abandons Lilya, we gather that
it’s only the latest callous act the girl has weathered.
Moodysson paints a grim picture of life in this depressed “republic.”
Cruelty invades every aspect of a place hardened first by the Soviet regime
and then by the economic ruin of its collapse. Lilya’s aunt and ostensible
guardian is a burned-out zombie, and the girl’s landlady practically spits at
her.
But Moodysson is too skilled a storyteller to make any character pure good
or evil. Our damsel in distress, for instance, is a smack-talking, glue-
sniffing hellion who balks at authority figures.
Akinshina, a gorgeous and extraordinarily poised young actress, can switch
in a flash from wounded kid to jaded know-it-all. Even when adults try to
comfort Lilya, her insolence makes them recoil.
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This hardened atmosphere leaves little room for the usual teenage betrayals,
so when Lilya’s best friend tells people Lilya’s a whore, she quickly becomes
one. In a place where life is cheap, it’s the easiest way for a pretty girl to
support herself.
“Lilya” contains what might be the least sexy sex scenes ever, as Moodysson
frames panting, heaving middle-aged men from Lilya’s disgusted perspective
below. Yet the men are rendered as more pathetic than nefarious, their
weakness infecting Lilya’s existence less than, say, her own mother’s.
“Lilya 4-Ever’s” lone ray of light comes from an unlikely source: a scruffy
13-year-old boy (Artiom Bogucharskij) who becomes the girl’s best friend.
Akinshina brings a maternal warmth to her scenes with Bogucharskij, who
projects innocence damaged but not yet lost.
The decaying buildings and dated decor tempt us to attribute Lilya’s plight
to a bygone era, but Moodysson jerks us into the present by having Lilya
mention her love for Britney Spears. Having this tragic girl invoke a symbol
of exuberant American health and capitalism is unexpectedly, inescapably
heartbreaking.
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This film contains violence, sexual situations.
– Carla Meyer
‘WARRIOR OF LIGHT’
Documentary. Directed and written by Monika Treut. (Not rated. 91 minutes. In
English and in Portuguese with English subtitles. At the Roxie Cinema.)
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In Brazil, where 53 million people live in poverty, Yvonne Bezerra de Mello
is a living saint. Despite a tony pedigree — Sorbonne education, marriage to
a wealthy hotelier — de Mello devotes her life to the poor, especially the
abandoned children of Rio de Janeiro.
In “Warrior of Light,” an absorbing documentary by German filmmaker Monika
Treut, we see de Mello straddling the opposing worlds of privilege and
disenfranchisement. A secular Mother Teresa with a direct, shoot-from-the-hip
manner, Bezerra de Mello offers love and comfort to glue-sniffing street kids,
opens a school under a freeway in one of Rio’s favelas (slums) and builds
furniture for the poor out of cast-off plastic bottles.
Raised in a middle-class home by a divorced mother, Bezerra de Mello was
married to a Swedish diplomat, raised three children in Europe and returned to
Rio after her divorce. Galvanized by the 1993 Candelaria police massacre of
homeless kids, she became a fierce crusader for the poor — winning both
international honors and the scorn of some Brazilians who argue that thieving
children don’t deserve protection.
Treut’s film captures Bezerra de Mello in both worlds: in her weekend villa
and at posh dinner parties, and in slums patrolled by gun-toting drug lords.
Pragmatic, tough and free of self-dramatizing postures, Bezerra de Mello
offers hugs and affection to urchins who’ve never felt a parent’s love.
Tiago, a young teen with AIDS, earns the heroine’s special attention; so
does Vanessa, a bright 13-year-old so poor that she sleeps and eats on the
floor of her filthy apartment.
“Warrior of Light” gets a bit sloppy at times, and runs off course when
Treut gets distracted by tangential material — a capoeira school, for example,
or a Macumba ritual. When it sticks to Bezerra de Mello, who’s a genuine
heroine despite her joking disavowals of her importance, it’s riveting.
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This film contains harsh language and documentary footage of violence.
– Edward Guthmann
‘HUSH!’
Drama. Directed and written by Hashiguchi Ryosuke. (Not rated. 135 minutes. In
Japanese with English subtitles. At the Castro.)
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Naoya and Katsuhiro are boyfriends, new in their relationship. Things are a
bit bumpy at first — Naoya (Takahashi Kazuya) is open and free, Katsuhiro
(Tanabe Seiichi) is cautious and closeted — but nothing compares to the chaos
that arrives when Asako, an unstable stranger, asks Katsuhiro to conceive a
child with her.
“Hush!,” a Japanese import by Hashiguchi Ryosuke (”Like Grains of Sand”),
starts promisingly but disintegrates into a dreary, humorless soap opera.
Scenes drag on for eternities, the camera doesn’t move and one feels trapped
by the movie’s sluggish rhythms.
What’s more, the issues are dated by American standards. In terms of gay
awareness, it’s like taking a visit to 1982. The most vivid character is Asako
(Kataoka Reiko), an emotional black hole starved for connection, who’s drawn
to Katsuhiro because of his warm eyes.
“I wouldn’t be a burden or anything,” she pleads. Famous last words. Things
go sour when Katsuhiro’s brother and sister-in-law step into the picture and
voice their disapproval of Asako based on her history of abortions, sleeping
around and a suicide attempt.
“We don’t want your type of blood,” hisses the nasty sister-in-law. Bitter
curses, slaps and slammed doors follow. There’s not a trace of alleviating
humor in this turgid melodrama, which at two hours and 15 minutes is at least
a half hour too long.
.
This film contains harsh language and sexual references.
– Edward Guthmann
‘THE YOUNG UNKNOWNS’
Drama. Directed and written by Catherine Jelski. (Not rated. 87 minutes. At
the Galaxy.)
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Cocky and talentless, Charlie Fox (Devon Gummersall) lives in a once-
glamorous Los Angeles pied-a-terre owned by his successful absentee dad.
Fueled by transparent self-importance, he abuses his alcoholic girlfriend
(Arly Jover) and boasts about the commercial-directing career that hasn’t
quite started for him.
News arrives of his mother’s drug overdose, and Charlie spends a night in
hell. In “The Young Unknowns,” first-time director Catherine Jelski dredges up
every cliche about druggy, obnoxious dreamers on the fringes of Hollywood and
assumes that said cliches have the power to shock and surprise.
It’s the same territory explored by David Rabe in the 1984 play
“Hurlyburly” and more recently by Lisa Cholodenko in the terrific comedy
“Laurel Canyon.” Sadly, Jelski’s film, inspired by “Magic Afternoon,” a
scathing 1969 stage piece by Austrian playwright Wolfgang Bauer, doesn’t have
a shred of the wit or authority of those other films.
The cast offers random moments of energy and invention. Devon Gummersall
captures Charlie’s false, insecure bravado, and Eion Bailey quivers with
scattered frenzy as Charlie’s loose-cannon buddy Joe.
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This film contains nudity, sexual situations, raw language and violence.
– Edward Guthmann
‘IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY’
Drama. Starring Kirk Douglas, Michael Douglas, Evelyn Douglas, Cameron
Douglas and Bernadette Peters. Directed by Fred Schepisi. (PG-13. 109 minutes.
At Bay Area theaters.)
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In the are-they-kidding-or-what category comes “It Runs in the Family,” a
vanity piece that marks the first onscreen pairing of Kirk Douglas and his son,
Michael Douglas. Achingly long and pointless, “Runs” is a movie about family
that’s dishonest in its presentation of every relationship.
Michael plays Alex, a lawyer who has had trouble with his father all his
life. Dad (Kirk) is one of those old guys who were miserable so-and-sos in
their prime and now think it’s somehow endearing to be miserable so-and-sos in
their dotage. His wife, who has always had to smooth things over for him, is
played by Diana Douglas, mother of Michael and former wife of Kirk. There’s
yet another Douglas in the mix: Cameron Douglas, son of Michael, who plays
Alex’s tattooed, drug-dealing son.
A stroke some years back impaired Kirk’s speech, and although today he can
make himself intelligible, his words come out so haltingly in “Runs” that it’s
difficult to assess his performance as a performance. It’s more like a
physical feat that he manages to accomplish. Kirk and Michael have a set-piece
heart-to-heart talk in the middle of the film that’s the big chance to see the
two act together, but the scene is hampered by Kirk’s troublesome speech and
also by ridiculous writing. Alex (Michael) mentions that his wife (Bernadette
Peters) falsely believes him to be having an affair, but the two men don’t
talk about that. They drop the subject and start tearing up, swapping I love
yous.
Other scenes also ring false. When his wife accuses him of having an affair,
does Alex do what any guy would do — swear his innocence up and down? No. He
halfheartedly protests his innocence and then takes his pillow out to sleep on
the couch.
Director Fred Schepisi is reduced to repeatedly panning to photographs of
Kirk as a young man, as if to say, “Ain’t it a shame.” Well, maybe, but the
man is 86; he’s had a triumphant life, and he has all his marbles. Enough
weeping; things could be worse. “It Runs in the Family,” on the other hand,
couldn’t be.
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– This film contains sexual situations.
– Mick LaSalle
