A scholarship student at Julliard, the Alberta-born Haack was first drawn to electronic music simply because he could control it more fully than he could unruly live musicians. Soon he was constructing instruments, and, partnered with kids’ dance/music educator Miss (Esther) Nelson, used them to create numerous memorably loopy ’60s-’70s participation records featuring songs like “Unicycle Show” and “Jellydancing.” He’s seen here demonstrating his musical gadgets on TV shows “Mr. Rogers” and “I’ve Got a Secret.” Later, depression, drugs and alcohol fueled an all-synth fantasia on Columbia Records, “Electric Lucifer,” before leading to his death at age 57. Entertaining docu is enlivened by apt animated graphics.

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In life, there are stories that need to be told. Stories so compelling that when a member of the fourth estate comes across them, those stories practically write themselves. "Born Rich" is not united of those stories.

I´m fairly changeless that, while uncountable of us may resent those with mine and power, we infrequently maintain wondered what drives the daily lives of their youngster. A person of the aforementioned youngster, a hamper who will-power never accept to know the pains of moonlighting to pay the rental or struggling to make a car payment, has sure to explore the world of those who are, as the title would suggest, born rich.

Before-time filmmaker Jamie Johnson, of the Johnson & Johnson fortune, takes the time to sit down with his contemporaries, peers, and friends to explore what correspond to experiences they have shared in life and to attempt to distill the essence of a life of privilege. Johnson´s subjects switch wildly in their training and level of wealth, from adequately-known figures want the lovely Ivanka Trump to people like Luke Weill who have the same access to cash without the serious profile.

Johnson´s questions do beyond the shadow of a doubt to expose more than the cosmetic prince-or-princess image that´s portrayed in the drugged society pages of the media and bring us to an understanding of the reasons through despite these on Easy Street folk´s actions. Many viewers would be surprised by the wary and articulate portrayal of Ivanka Trump while she talks about the essence of wealth. Other interviewees, like the aforementioned Luke Weill, are very honest close by their station in life and how their wealth influences them. Still others, like S.I. Newhouse talk encircling being brought up without the access to the money they were introduced to later and how it influences them.

I came into the documentary expecting to see a generic, or over-compensatingly sympathetic, fancy of what it is in the mood for to be born without an understanding of the struggles of the reality of the masses. What is presented is a fair and even-tempered look at the nature of wealth and the good and the bad it can bring to its bearer. Johnson glosses over some of the worse excesses that we´ve heard about, the medicate problems and excessive partying (idle hands and all that), for all that does touch on them briefly. The documentary prefers to talk more in all directions the people behind the long green in an endeavour to dispel stereotypes held by the majority of the public on the sumptuous.

In my review of "American Pimp" I said that while I never had an interest in the subject it was still worth recording to achieve an accurate picture of all elements of society. The same is true here. For every ten documentaries like "American Jobs" that play to the viewers sympathies of the downtrodden, it´s important to see works like "Born Rich" to comprehend how another element of our society exists to understand the complex interplay of the country´s social strata.

"Born Rich" is a good technical documentary. A wide variety of subjects are talked to about a host of subjects and Johnson comes, by the end of the film, to a better understanding of his peers. His narration is clunky and forced yet appropriate because of his inherent ethos. He is able to extricate some great thoughts from his interviewees and the twist at the end of the story is almost as telling as some of their words. The film is well-edited and none of the interviews seem to drag, though some amble without an immediately-available point, and everyone´s personality is allowed to shine. At the end of the day, unfortunately, the material is forgettable. Had I never seen "Born Rich" I don´t know that my opinions on the "Haves" in society would be any different. The elite few would still have more money than I and I would still be as apathetic about their comings and goings as they are about mine.

Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz

This is a fine example of a classy race film, a film starring only
black performers that’s made for black audiences. Such films existed from
the 1920s until the 1940s. David Starkman, a white man, owned a number
of theaters in Philadelphia and noticed his audience was changing and to
reach them he decided to produce his own films. In 1926, after raising
a $100,000 investment, Starkman with the Colored Players Film Corporation
of Philadelphia, produced films that would catch the interest of a black
audience. The company made only three films before being absorbed into
a bigger company. The other two films, A Prince of His Race (1926) and
Ten Nights in a Bar Room (1921), remain lost. This weepie melodrama, of
high historic value for black cinema, shows the struggle to rise and make
something of one’s self among those in the black community and not be pulled
down by the street; it also shows that there is a division existing between
blacks who are born into good families and others who have to face adversity.
Here it’s called a separation by caste. It’s the only film Frank Peregini,
a white man, ever directed. 

The film, written by David Starkman and most likely collaborated
with blacks, voices its opinion that environment, education and ambition
are the determining factors in a person’s life. Somehow it never fully
proves its point. It more clearly shows there’s a bigotry in the black
community that suggests those of a lighter skin complexion are treated
more favorably than those who are dark-complexioned. The films good guys
are all light-skinned, while the bad guys are all dark-skinned.

It’s set in Philadelphia. Mrs. Lucretia Green runs a respectable
boardinghouse for blacks. One of the guests is the refined light-skinned
Alvin Hillyard (Harry Henderson), a struggling young composer. His quiet
life radically changes when he rescues Louise Howard (Lucia Lynn Moses,
a dancer in the famed Cotton Club of Harlem, who had to commute between
jobs to Philly while working on this pic) from being beaten by her wicked
drunken stepfather Spike Howard (William Pettus) in the courtyard near
the boardinghouse. He takes the shaken Louise into the boardinghouse and
the kindly Lucretia puts her to work and gives her shelter. The untrustworthy
cad named Eddie Blake (Norman Johnstone), the saloon owner where Spike
hangs out and current boardinghouse resident, spots Spike’s daughter and
schemes to get her to work in his joint. When she rejects his offer, he
tries to kidnap her but is repelled by Alvin. After another attack on her
by her drunken stepfather, Alvin feels sorry for the attractive young girl
and marries her out of pity. He soon receives a fake telegram from Eddie,
that draws him out to the suburbs to call on his mother. Louise is crushed
that he won’t take her to meet mom, saying he never told mom about the
marriage because she couldn’t accept her because she’s from the wrong side
of the tracks. When he leaves, in anger she tears up their marriage license.
While he’s out of town, Eddie comes by and makes a deal with Louise for
them to go partners in a gambling club. She agrees to a fifty-fifty split
and that it should be a strictly business arrangement. Alvin returns miffed
that he was taken for a sucker and pulls a gun on Eddie, when he’s distracted
Eddie also pulls a gun. In the crossfire Louise gets wounded in the neck,
and will have a permanent scar of shame. Alvin gets convicted of assault
based on Louise’s testimony; unable to cope with jail he escapes. He changes
his name and becomes the refined piano tutor of a rich lawyer’s light-skinned
daughter, Alice Hathaway. They fall in love and her dad (Lawrence Chenault)
approves of their marriage. Mr. Hathaway is the financial backer of the
Club Lido, which is run by Eddie and Louise. When Alvin is asked by his
fiancee to deliver a message to her dad at the club, he runs into Louise
and the fireworks begin.

It’s really no better or worse than most of the mainstream “white”
melodrama silents of that period. But as history, the film is an invaluable
record of the African-American experience as they see themselves. It explores
questions of black identity and ambition within the black middle class
like no other mainstream films would do at the time. Before judging it
too harshly for its conservative views, one must remember its time period
and that it was the only show around that gave the blacks the opportunity
to play characters who weren’t insulting stereotypes.

The fantasy kids risk coming September 24
Thursday, Trek 4, 2010 1:09 PM
Coming to theaters on June 18
Thursday, March 4, 2010 12:31 PM
Spend-undertaking, animated and doc shorts
Thursday, Step 4, 2010 12:24 PM
Garry Marshall's planned Capra remake
Thursday, March 4, 2010 11:33 AM
Recent casting rumor is false
Thursday, March 4, 2010 10:54 AM
Start in theaters on May 28
Thursday, Slog 4, 2010 10:01 AM
A 10-part micro-series is in development as well
Thursday, Hike 4, 2010 9:50 AM
Tim Burton, Anne Hathaway, Helena Bonham Carter and Mia Wasikowska
Thursday, March 4, 2010 2:00 AM
Hopes to start shooting the Public Rights large screen in May
Thursday, March 4, 2010 1:50 AM
Studio is eyeing David Slade to direct
Thursday, March 4, 2010 1:43 AM
Zack Snyder's upcoming impassioned fantasy-venture
Thursday, Walk 4, 2010 1:41 AM
Joining Bradley Cooper in the thriller
Wednesday, Demonstration 3, 2010 11:41 PM
From a send by Adam Cooper and Nib Collage
Wednesday, March 3, 2010 11:27 PM
He Knows Where You Sleep
Wednesday, Slog 3, 2010 8:48 PM
With Owen Wilson and Marion Cotillard
Wednesday, Trek 3, 2010 8:30 PM
Kidman may part of a supporting role
Wednesday, Procession 3, 2010 7:47 PM
After the Oscars this Sunday
Wednesday, March 3, 2010 3:22 PM
Playing the lead animate-performance character
Wednesday, Parade 3, 2010 2:27 PM

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Written and directed by neophyte Gary Hardwick, “The Brothers” seems to be
ripped from the pages of titles such as “Men Cry in the Dark” and “Cheaters”
and stitched together into an episodic tribute to paperback soap operas.

A quartet of yuppies (Morris Chestnut, Bill Bellamy, D.L. Hughley, Shemar
Moore) embarks on variations of the same sexual crisis — commitment. It’s a
fear older than old-school, and Hardwick has no particular insight into the
problem, just a lot of delightfully filthy exchanges that seem as though they
have fallen out of Terry McMillan’s Gucci bag.

Each bit of unsolicited advice smacks of that ticked-off, self-aggrandized
talk-show audience member making a grab for Montel Williams’ microphone. And
so time with “The Brothers” is less like watching a movie than it is like
being accosted by one. Still, if anyone is going to preach in the church of
commitment, by Oprah, let it be Jenifer Lewis!

She plays Chestnut’s achy-breaky sex kitten of a mother, and she may as
well be ordained in matters of the loins. Lewis, who played William H. Macy’s
exasperated spouse in “Mystery Men,” doesn’t simply ignite this movie, she
funks it up, shoplifting it as if by force of habit. The curious thing about
“The Brothers” is how for-the-sisters it is. Aside from Chestnut, the women do
all the best work — from Lewis and Marla Gibbs to “Bring It On’s” Gabrielle
Union, Tamala Jones (”The Wood”) and Tatyana Ali, who spearheads the most
uproariously vulgar confab. They’re hip to all the sermons — almost until the
movie seems to be preaching to its own choir.

.

This film contains sexual situations and raw language.

– Wesley Morris

‘TOO MUCH SLEEP’

Comedy. Starring Marc Palmieri. Written and directed by David Maquiling.
(Not rated. 80 minutes. At the Lumiere.)

.

David Maquiling’s first feature, “Too Much Sleep,” has the low-budget look
of “My First Indie,” but the film also draws the fine line between art-house
quirk and artistic idiosyncrasy.

The title hints at the drowsy surrealism in Maquiling’s filmmaking: all
sleep, little dream. His protagonist is Jack (Marc Palmieri), a slacking man-
boy who appears to be sleeping his life away — crammed in the twin bed of his
youth. His introduction comes during a neighborhood stroll so lethargic he may
as well be sleepwalking.

On a bus one afternoon, the paper bag with his lunch and his dead father’s
unlicensed revolver is swiped in a scam pulled by a mother-daughter team. He
spends the movie chasing workaday suspects trying to get it back, following
leads that take him from step aerobics to a gay strip club. The low-key search
becomes a proving ground for Jack’s drowsily arrested development, spurred on
by a visit to Eddie (Pasquale Gaeta), the former crook who’s some retirement-
age Sancho Panza.

As the gun’s status graduates from the concrete, felonious “stolen” to the
more metaphysical “missing,” the film moves from mere dreamlessness to its own
weird magic. Maquiling fuses the loner-driven, vagary-obsessed fiction of
Kafka and Schnitzler into an earthbound piece of suburban New Jersey diner-to-
lawn domestica. The movie is as modestly unpretentious as David O. Russell’s
“Spanking the Monkey.”

Martin Scorsese tried something not altogether different with “After Hours.
” But Scorsese was interested in (surprise) the violent glee of keeping
Griffin Dunne on a Freudian pulley for one night. Maquiling is a less bruising
showoff: He just wants to airbrush time.

– Wesley Morris

One of the biggest chances that the film takes is in its frequent use of the direct speech approach to the audience. This does not always come off in the picture as well as it used to do with Groucho in the old Marx Bros films. But the device served well enough in Bill Naughton’s play, and does here.

Story concerns a glib, cynical young Cockney whose passion in life is chasing dames of all shapes, sizes, and dispositions, providing they are accommodating. The film traces the promiscuous path of this energetic young amoralist as he flits from one to the other without finding much lasting pleasure. In fact, he finishes up as a somewhat jaded, cutprice Lothario, disillusioned but still on the chase.

Caine brings persuasiveness, and a sardonic, thoroughly shabby and humorous charm to the role. The two best performances among the women come from Julia Foster, becomingly wistful throughout, and Vivien Merchant as the married woman who suffers an abortion.

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1966: Nominations: Best Picture, Actor (Michael Caine), Supp. Actress (Vivien Merchant), Screenplay, Song ( Alfie )

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Reviewed by Dennis Schwartz

A gross-out sicko horror film with no redeeming value. It’s the sequel
to the Splat Pack bad boy Eli Roth’s (”Cabin Fever”) revolting “Hostel,”
that revisits the same torture chamber in Slovakia where rich American
men pay for the right to kill American captives. This time it features
the girls getting tortured instead of the boys. It’s the kind of exploitative
and sadistic pic that should appeal to the sensibilities of Al-Quaeda or
Quentin Tarantino or just plain fake snuff film voyeurs.

Three American college coeds, Lorna (Heather Matarazzo), Beth (Lauren
German) and Whitney (Bijou Phillips), are taking an art course in Rome.
Lorna’s the annoying geeky ugly duckling, Beth is the sensible regular
gal with the handy trust fund and Whitney is the drunken loose woman. They
journey next by train to Prague, but get steered to Slovakia by their shady
art class model (Vera Jordanova), who clues them in about the great spas
there. The unsuspecting girls check into a hostel and are snatched one
by one by a cutthroat group, who sport a dog’s hound tattoo on their arm.
They torture them and keep them in a locked cell, and the two obnoxious
wealthy American businessmen, the macho bachelor Todd (Richard Burgi) and
the sulking suburban family man Stuart (Roger Bart), who outbid others
in an electronically held eBay type of auction, now get a chance to kill
the girls they just bought. 

It’s a Eurotrash bloodbath flick that comes with the moral lesson
that if you got the bread, you can buy your way out of a jam. Of the three
girls, only one of them has the means to buy her way out of ringleader
Sasha’ (Milan Knazko) torture chamber. Which results in a half-baked ending
that was hardly believable or convincing. 

For all the supposed fright scenes, even while the vics are fighting
for their lives, the film is devoid of suspense. It seems to be more set
on being a torture porno film than a horror film, and to hold the American
vics and clients more in contempt than it does the Slovakian organizers
of this tortune scheme.