Drama. Starring Stephen Lang, Jeff Daniels and Robert Duvall. Directed by
Ronald F. Maxwell. (PG-13. 229 minutes, including intermission. At Bay Area
theaters.)
If “Gods and Generals” does nothing else, it makes one thing clear: It was
a long, long war. The Civil War epic takes nearly four hours to cover roughly
two years in the war’s eastern corridor, a length that only might seem
reasonable if we remember that the superb 1993 film “Gettysburg” — for which
this film serves as a prequel — was even longer.
The earlier film’s length was justified by the pivotal nature of the event,
the evenhandedness of its storytelling and the intricacy with which it
presented all aspects of the battle. “Gettysburg” felt compressed, while “Gods
and Generals” feels deliberately languorous. It’s a plodding, episodic film,
reverent and sanctimonious, and its pro-Southern viewpoint — a time-honored
Hollywood tendency — makes “Gone With the Wind” look like a Northern polemic.
Perhaps in order for the country to heal, it was necessary seven score
years ago that everyone should adopt the pretense that the war was just a big
misunderstanding, in which everyone was equally right and wrong. If the South
could forgive the destruction of its cities, it stood to reason that at least
Northerners could refrain from harping on the obvious, that the South fought
against something sacred (the Constitution) for the sake of something profane
(slavery). But “Gods and Generals” tests traditional northern etiquette to the
breaking point.
If one were to watch the movie with no knowledge of history, one could be
left with the impression that in 1861, a maniac named Lincoln decided to arm
federal troops and attack neighboring states because he felt like it. Robert E.
Lee (Robert Duvall) turns down command of the Union army and leads the
Confederacy in a decision the movie presents as the height of principle. And
Thomas Jackson (Stephen Lang), the future Stonewall Jackson, watches with blue-
eyed equanimity as a mob of his cadets tears down the American flag.
Jackson is the hero of “Gods and Generals,” and despite some halfhearted
digressions to the Northern lines to visit Col. Chamberlain (Jeff Daniels),
this is essentially a Jackson hagiography. Much is made of the Confederate
general’s religious devotion, though the spectacle of a man fighting for a
misguided cause with absolute faith that God is on his side may have limited
appeal.
The movie improves in its last hour, as it concentrates on the battle of
Chancellorsville, but by then three long hours have gone by. It’s one thing to
make a movie that lasts four hours. It’s another thing to actively strive for
epic length, and that’s the case here.
.
This film contains battle violence.
– Mick LaSalle
‘A FAMILY AFFAIR’
Lesbian romantic comedy. Starring Helen Lesnick, Michele Greene, and Erica
Shaffer. Directed and written by Helen Lesnick. (101 minutes. At the Galaxy.)
Until now, it may not have occurred to you that what we needed was a witty
lesbian romance. Once you see “A Family Affair,” you realize what we’ve been
missing.
The best part of this niche film is the jokey start, when
writer/director/lead actress Helen Lesnick looks dead at the camera with those
Bette Davis eyes and cracks wise. The scene both sets up the premise —
looking for Ms. Right — and reassures us that we are attending a comedy, not
a lecture.
Lesnick, as Rachel Rosen, warns us right off the bat that this is “what is
known as a lesbian-themed movie” and suggests that she will give anyone
uncomfortable with that idea a moment to pack up and leave the theater.
After dutifully waiting a good 60 seconds, she gives us a conspirator’s
wink and says, “I’m glad they left. They were creeping me out.” Lesnick plays
a lesbian Woody Allen (right down to appropriating one of his best lines from
“Play It Again, Sam”). Rachel is a transplanted New Yorker who can do nothing
but grouse when she settles in the strange world of California. Her Annie Hall
is Christine Peterson (Erica Shaffer), a wholesome, guileless California
blonde. The two meet cute, explore romance and attempt to weather a comeback
attempt by Rachel’s old flame Reggie (Michele Greene).
One of the nice touches is that the usual source of central conflict for
this sort of movie — coming out as gay and the ramifications to others — is
dealt with in the first few minutes and then is of only passing interest the
rest of the film. We are shown a flashback of Rachel’s mother, Leah (Arlene
Golonka), experiencing a meltdown when she learns Rachel is gay, but she
quickly becomes such a convert that she tells Rachel’s heterosexual brother
that she intends to refer to him only as “non-gay.”
That’s all good. The only quibble is that once the setup has been
established — Rachel is clearly in love with Christine, but what about the
seductive, evil ex-girlfriend? — it takes a long time to get to the payoff.
We know Reggie is going to make one last pitch for Rachel, but it seems to
take forever for her to arrive and start pitching.
All’s well in a sweet finish that saves this as a good old-fashioned love
story. The scene in which the bride tosses her bouquet and Rachel’s gay male
friends outbattle the bridesmaids for it is a reminder that this is a film
that never loses its sense of humor.
- Some nudity and matter-of-fact gay relationships.
– C.W. Nevius
‘ETOILES: DANCERS OF THE PARIS OPERA BALLET’
Documentary. Directed by Nils Tavernier. (Not rated. 100 minutes. At the Opera
Plaza.)
.
There are touching moments in ” Etoiles,” but for the most part this is a
dull, dour documentary on what ought to be a joyful or at least fascinating
subject.
Directed by Nils Tavernier, the son of the respected director Bertrand
Tavernier, the film offers glimpses at some very great dancers and dancemakers,
barely identifies them and seldom delves into what makes them do what they do:
Maurice Bejart nearly loses his temper at the vapidity of Tavernier’s
questions and simply walks away; Jiri Kylian surprises by revealing he still
hasn’t learned to speak French; principal dancers are shown applying makeup or
tending to their sore feet more than they are filmed actually dancing. The
Paris Opera’s byzantine rankings and competitive yearly examinations get a lot
of screen time, but the sublime quality of what these details imply escapes
this director.
The mood is melancholy, the clips of ballets are frustrating in their
brevity, major events like Elisabeth Platel’s retirement are shown almost in
passing, and the whole picture has a distinct agenda of deglamorizing the
world’s oldest and possibly finest ballet company. Balletomanes will likely be
irritated, even if they will nevertheless treasure the few shots of Bejart’s
monumental “Ninth Symphony” or some of the rehearsal footage from “La
Sylphide” and “Swan Lake.” Everyone else may end up just bored.
– Octavio Roca