Steady Diet of Film

Review: Earth

Disney counterprograms Earth Day this year with Earth, an expansive documentatation of our dear planet and the life that exists from the North Pole to Antarctica. As soon as it begins, narrator James Earl Jones informs us that planet earth is uniquely positioned in the galaxy to host life but, in a deeply ironic twist, (spoiler alert) is also constantly trying to kill us all.
Directed by Alastair Fothergill and Mark Linfield (both producers on the phenomenal "Blue Planet" series), Earth is a feature-length spin-off from the BBC TV series "Planet Earth". The film chronicles the wobbling first steps of two polar bear cubs, a herd of migrating elephants, many different kinds of exotic birds and a humpback whale traveling south to find food as she slowly starves from feeding her calf 150 gallons of milk per day.

Unfortunately, there are two opposing elements at work in the execution of earth. The viewer is made immediately aware (and not just by all the Disney-branded pre-roll that advertises the Earth Day 2010 release of their aquatic life documentary Oceans) of the luxurious expense of this project. High-speed cameras, strikingly exotic destinations and an intensely moody score performed by the Berlin Philharmonic give the production an immediate elegance. But the muddy cinematography (all three Directors of Photography credited to this project are making their lensing debut here), tediously episodic pacing, obsessive anthropomorphizing and a near pornographic fixation on brutal killings makes earth smack of a made-for-cable production rushed to the theaters.

As with most of Disney's narrative productions, the moments depicting broad vistas are suitably awe-inspiring. Think of the first time you saw the animation of the chandelier in their 1991 production of Beauty and the Beast, here a piece time-lapsed footage of colorful fungus growing across an inhospitable boulder. Additionally, the cheap levity of exotic tropical birds mating and a family of ducks learning to fly works very well. But the more intimate moments of the film lack narrative cohesion becomes at best dull and at worst unsettling. It's not that the morbid approach can't work in the nature documentary form (recall the greater moments of Werner Herzog's narration from Grizzly Man). Yet it's a discomfiting move given this film's intended audience.

It's a rare experience for me to sit in a theater and feel like a schoolmarm. However, this film's G-rating is utterly inappropriate. Especially so when you consider that the ultra-violent Crank High Voltage skidded by with an R-rating the same week the producers of Bruno announced they had to eliminate gay content from their comedy to be downgraded from an NC-17. Further evidence that the dysfunction of the MPAA depicted in Kirby Dick's 2006 documentary This Film is Not Yet Rated is still alive and well.

Earth opens this week in theaters nationwide.

San Francisco International Film Festival 52, pt. 1

 

Kimjongilia / N.C. Heikin / USA, S. Korea, France

In the wake of yet another empty exercise of aggression from North Korea, it's difficult not to look at Kimjongilia, the directorial debut from N.C. Heikin, through unfairly expectant eyes. This mentally ill dictator has murdered hundreds of thousands of people, wrecked havoc on Asia's stability and could do untold further damage to the world before he passes on to the next life. But because he is short, has a funny hairstyle and orchestrates propaganda efforts that are patently absurd to outsiders, Kim Jong-il is depicted more like a cartoon character than the very real menace that he is.

Which is what makes a film like Kimjongilia a bit frustrating. Made over the course of 10 years, the first half of the film focuses on cataloging horrific personal stories and then shifts gears, focusing on prison camps where people are held indeterminately for vague or undefined crimes. The two sections are hinged together with a very smart, animated timeline providing an overview of Korean history.

Interesting geopolitical implications abound. North Korea is a country where the majority of people live below the poverty line. Yet its citizens produce countless luxury items, which are then exported to countries who condemn North Korea at G8 conferences while happily buying their leather shoes and paper flower arrangements at bargain prices.

Despite a demonstrated level of research and care, the film struggles to balance seriousness, emotional engagement and a self-conscious need to be artistic. Traditional Korean dance, intercut with personal and historical accounts shared through voiceover, feels like a clumsy attempt at cultural tie-in. B-roll footage of exuberant mourning after the death of Kim il-Song (Jong-il's father), juxtaposed with survivors’ descriptions of state-sponsored lies is also problematic. It suggests that the people of North Korea who have avoided imprisonment or been unable to leave are just foolish believers of a lunatic messiah. 

Heikin employs a smarter, gentler touch than the "gonzo documentary film-makers" who will endure the risks of going to regions of extreme repression but produce narratives that flop around like dead fish. She has clearly put great care into finding her interview subjects and earning enough trust for them to go on-camera with their dangerous and heartbreaking stories. The stories in Kimjongilia makes the film worth seeking out, even if the inexperienced film-making makes it difficult to recommend.

Kimjongilia plays at the San Francisco International Film Festival which runs April 23 - May 7.

Review: Hannah Montana: the Movie

As godmother to a very smart, tween girl I've always had a tenuous appreciation of the Hannah Montana franchise. It gives girls an outlet for their inevitable fame- and glamour-lust while emphasizing the value of having the kind of life where hanging out with friends, studying for math tests and annoying little brothers represent the greatest delights and grievances.

I've questioned some of the storyline's logic and motivations though. Such as why is Miley so physically awkward when Hannah has such a charismatic, graceful stage presence? Is there some kind of post-modern statement being made about the commercialization of identity that people who have known Miley for years don't recognize her as Hannah when all she does to physically change her appearance is don a wig? Alas, as I've been sternly informed by a 7 year old, it's just good fun.

The film gets off to a fast start, assuming the viewer is already familiar with the mechanics of Miley Stewart's (played by Miley Cyrus) situation. After Miley, a simple girl from Crowley Corners, Tennessee, loses her mother she channels her grief into singing. But her father (played by real life father Billy Ray Cyrus) wanted his daughter to retain some sense of normalcy. An elaborate plot was hatched to invent another persona for her, propped up by a team of press agents (who must rival the 2008 Obama presidential campaign for on-point message delivery and leak prevention), her family and a close circle of friends.

When the movie starts, the Miley/Hannah equilibrium is getting out of whack. After a particularly bad day that  involves ruining her best friend's Sweet Sixteen, getting into a very public shoe fight with Tyra Banks (which is infinitely more comedic than the dour version in last month's Confessions of a Shopaholic) and letting her gregarious press agent (played by Ugly Betty's Vanessa L. Williams) override her father's veto on blowing off her grandmother's birthday for a trip to New York City, Miley is shipped back to Crowley Corners. Almost immediately she settles back into her comfortable country roots, rekindles a (thoroughly chaste) grade school romance, rides horses and participates in clumsy farm hijinks. Then, lo and behold, the town becomes infested with greedy land developers who want to turn the rolling hills of bucolic countryside into shopping malls and condominiums. The day can only be saved by a special appearance of superstar Hannah Montana. Miscommunications are hashed out, hearts are broken and mended, a room of people spontaneously burst into synchronized dance and many people fall onto or into precarious structures.

It's difficult to say where the film suffers the most. Is it the fact that director Peter Chelsom (Shall We Dance?, Serendipity) clearly doesn't understand the inner lives of young girls? Or that Disney jammed it through the Hannah Montana franchise machine at such a breakneck rate that it prevented any kind of script development? In any case, the film isn't terrible. But kids deserve better, especially for an established character and story in which they are already feel so invested.

While my mind drifted off during the increasingly laborious five full-length songs performed, three montages and two animal reaction shots, I remembered how badly the film Satisfaction has aged since I first became enamored with it as a tween. If you'd told me at the time that "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" was not written and solely performed by Justine Bateman and (a then unknown) Julia Roberts, I would've called you a damned liar. And really, my capacity for musical appreciation wasn't permanently warped.

Miley Cyrus is an extremely engaging presence on screen. Her songs are fun. The relationships (romantic, familial and friendship) all emphasize trust and respect. And other than the very bizarre choice to have the poor man's David Alan Grier playing the mayor of Crowley Corners (sorry, Tennessee, but in a post-Harold Ford, Jr. world you no longer get the benefit of the doubt) the film is not particularly stupid or hateful in the ways Disney has practically had a trademark on in the past. All told, why begrudge young girls the simple pleasure of good fun?

Review: Yes Man

Loosely based on the true story of British humorist Danny Wallace's attempt to inject more positivity into this life, Yes Man stars Jim Carrey as Carl Allen, a mid-level loan officer whose strategy for promotion is to take no risks with his bank's money and suck up to the boss. His lackadaisical approach to work has bled into his personal life, Yes Man opens on a scene that is both funny and melancholic as Carl makes up a series of elaborate excuses to a friend for why it is imperative he stay in and rent videos that night.

After a huge blowout with his best friend, pushed to the limit with Carl's obstinance (coupled with a dream depicting dying alone and having his face eaten by bugs) Carl decides to choose life and attends a self-help seminar led by Terrence Bundley (played by Terence Stamp). Bundley, an oddly effective combination of Tony Robbins, Mr. Miyagi and Robert McKee uses a delicate blend of emotional blackmail and mild hypnotism to convince Carl to, you guessed it, answer in the affirmative when his initial response would've been the negative.

Read the rest of this review at Greencine.