Why Side Effects (2013) is the Quintessential Soderbergh Movie

by Tony Dayoub

If Side Effects is the final theatrical film for Steven Soderbergh—even if only for a shorter period than the "forever" he originally implied—then what a movie to bow out with. There are all kinds of reasons even the most attentive moviegoer might have had cause to think otherwise. One could start with its generic title or its below-the-title ensemble cast or the fact that it's being released at a time of year studios usually reserve for dumping their most problematic films. But why not look at the way he's constructed the film itself. Side Effects is the kind of movie in which any review must be written carefully in order to preserve its effect on a first-time viewer, a promise I'll keep in my own brief assessment.

2012 So Far: Midterm Top 5

by Tony Dayoub

We're halfway through 2012, and I thought you might be interested about the handful of films at the top of my best list so far. If I had to find one thing in common in all of these, I would say that each one has some impediment (not a flaw) which might make it difficult for audiences to embrace.

Magic Mike (2012)

by Tony Dayoub

Is there any actor out there whose skills as a performer have improved faster than Channing Tatum? Not since Tom Cruise went from pudgy hanger-on in The Outsiders to superstar in Risky Business has there been a slab of beefcake as underestimated as Tatum. While I all but wrote him off as the lead in 2009's G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra, I saw a glimmer of burgeoning talent when he played a dense but likeable hitman in Haywire and a mopey, outcast cop in this year's 21 Jump Street (just out on Blu-ray and DVD). In Steven Soderbergh's stripper drama, Magic Mike, Tatum carries a thin, vaguely familiar story to another level by sheer force of charisma, obliterating any thoughts that he is just a pretty boy.

Blu-ray Review: The Moment of Truth (Il momento della verità) (1965) and Traffic (2000)

by Tony Dayoub

This month, whether by coincidence or by design, the Criterion Collection releases three Blu-rays which should hold some appeal for Latinos. One I didn't get a chance to review is Belle de Jour by Spanish surrealist Luis Buñuel. But here's a look at the two others.

MIA since Out of Sight: Jennifer Lopez, Actress

by Tony Dayoub

Where is the actress who worked with Francis Ford Coppola, Bob Rafelson, and Oliver Stone, and seemed on the verge of something greater as US Marshal Karen Sisco in Steven Soderbergh's Elmore Leonard adaptation? March's Blu-ray release of Out of Sight (1998) is occasion for me to lament the disappearance of bright, rising star Jennifer Lopez (replaced full-time by pop star, J.Lo) from any challenging dramas.

CONTINUE READING AT NOMAD EDITIONS: WIDE SCREEN

Movie Review: The Informant!

by Tony Dayoub



Steven Soderbergh gives us what may be one of the lightest, frothiest creampuffs of the year, The Informant! This description may not do the film justice, though. Peel through the layers of deception that the director has stacked up high, apropos of the inscrutable Mark Whitacre (Matt Damon)—the title character at the heart of the film—and you shall be rewarded with a satire of inescapable incisiveness.

DVD Review: The Girlfriend Experience

by Tony Dayoub



As is evident in the picture above where The Girlfriend Experience's two protagonists—Chelsea, nee Christine (Sasha Grey), and Chris (Chris Santos)—are out of focus, director Steven Soderbergh is preoccupied with the bejeweled adornments, glossy finishes, and burnished surfaces that make up the backdrop of this film. That is to the say, superficiality is at the crux of the story here, a tale that takes place during the 2008 Presidential elections. If the film seems like a historical document that is because Soderbergh is using this account of a few days in the life of an escort to focus on the extravagance that Americans had so much trouble leaving behind in the days after the financial meltdown of last year, a point all the more salient today since it is the anniversary of last year's stock market drop of nearly 778 points, the biggest single-day point loss ever.

UPDATED: A Random Email thread on the Current State of Cinema

From: Lissette Decos
To: Tony Dayoub
Sent: Friday, July 3, 2009 8:52:21 AM
Subject: isn't this interesting?

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/02/business/media/02moneyball.html?_r=1&ref=movies

Solitary Man: A Lineage of Loners from A Fistful of Dollars to The Limits of Control

The Lone Man (Isaach De Bankolé) in Jim Jarmusch's The Limits of Control is a representation of the way Europeans have characterized American cinematic heroes, like the cowboy or the gangster, for decades. And Jarmusch recognizes this, paying homage to some of his antecedents, iconic male leads in movies authored by notable European directors. But like Steven Soderbergh did in The Limey (1999), Jarmusch delivers the representation of such a figure in a way that emphasizes his otherness—an American archetype as played by a foreigner. This dissonance allows Jarmusch to comment on the artifice of cinema and its iconography in ways reflective of its history. *** Though Jarmusch has implied that Point Blank's Walker (Lee Marvin) is a progenitor of the Lone Man, let's begin further back, looking at Clint Eastwood's Joe from A Fistful of Dollars (1964). In Sergio Leone's western, he mythologizes the setting, dislocating the American cowboy, Joe, to a dreamscape that resembles the Old West in order to explore the iconography of the western. "Existentialism" is derived from the Latin word existere, which means "to stand out," and Eastwood's Joe certainly fulfills the existentialist archetype. The movie was shot on location in Almería, Spain, its yellow landscapes at odds with the ruddy panoramas of America's Old West. Eastwood is the lone American in the cast—an outsider in what is a uniquely American genre—surrounded by international actors playing the supporting parts. *** Jarmusch also chooses Spain as the backdrop for the Lone Man's mission, which starts in sleekly modern Madrid, transitions to old world Seville, and finally ends up, as well, in Almería. Globalism and free trade being the modus operandi of the moment, the American is no longer an outsider in the context of a foreign land. The only way for the Lone Man to stand out is to cast a person distinct in manner and color (De Bankolé is a native of the Ivory Coast), allowing Jarmusch to examine the cinematic American "type" by inverting our expectations. By simply dressing the character up in specific clothing—a sharkskin suit that convinces one group of kids in the film that the Lone Man must be an American gangster—Jarmusch is able to use the garments as signifiers of a specific film persona. *** There is something distinctly portentous about seeing a foreigner dressed as a gangster. In another nod to dream logic, the Lone Man only ever changes his outfit when he changes locales. Each of his three suits is designed for maximum aesthetic harmony, color-coded to enhance Christopher Doyle's cinematography at any given location. This recalls John Boorman's color design for Point Blank (1967), in which its central characters always dress in colors complementary to the surrounding setting. *** But outside of the transitions from one locale to the next, the Lone Man doesn't ever seem to change his outfit: He sleeps in it, practices his meditative tai-chi in it—all without so much as a wrinkle or drop of sweat. Dollars' Joe similarly inhabits his outfit. The ubiquitous nature of Joe's attire is playfully underlined when a bartender asks, "Tell me, is that the way you go to bed every night?" *** At each locale—as the Lone Man's temporary dwellings suggest, and with the exception of an empty handbag he carries with him—his suit is his only possession. This austerity calls to mind Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Samouraï (1967), where Alain Delon's Jef Costello, always wearing the same American gangster's fedora and raincoat, lives in an apartment vacant of any personal possessions but for a birdcage and some furniture. This superficial harmony between the blank character and stark setting—where the protagonist at once blends in by virtue of the void they both share, yet still stands in sharp relief to the barren location—further emphasizes the alien nature of the hero. As Jonathan Rosenbaum observes in a recent essay on Jarmusch's film:

"... American gangsterism is a style that seems designed for export. In Point Blank, directed by an Englishman, the terrain is supposedly Los Angeles, but Lee Marvin might as well be trekking across Mars; and in Le Samouraï, directed by a Frenchman—another obvious source for The Limits of Control—the terrain is supposedly Paris, but Alain Delon might as well be holing up somewhere in Tokyo."

*** As in each of the movies discussed here, the setting of The Limits of Control serves as a dreamscape in which the Lone Man operates. And like Walker in Point Blank who sleepwalks determinedly through the minefield of his past to get to the top man of the Organization that stole his money, the Lone Man seems to progress determinedly from one meeting to the next, the meetings becoming the substance of the film more than his objective. As Kent Jones writes in "Death by Poetry" (Film Comment, May/June 2009):

"The sojourns from Charles de Gaulle Airport to Madrid to Seville to Almería, the secretly appointed meetings with a series of shadowy but finally beguiling figures, the wonderfully dry peregrinations and contemplative interludes, are in all probability acts of imagination."

*** The repetitive nature of the Lone Man's encounters with some rather eccentric characters—in which each meeting begins with the question, "Usted no habla español, verdad?", followed by variations on the same conversation regarding life and its ineffable connections with art, science, etc.—is a comment on the repetitive nature of cinema where the viewer passively participates in a dream life, just as the Lone Man seems to passively acquire information from his own extended dream that will allow him to complete his mission. Indeed, it is the Blonde (Tilda Swinton) who confirms the Lone Man/filmgoer analogy most explicitly when she extols the pleasures of film appreciation. In this discussion, she foreshadows her own mysterious kidnapping by implying a comparison between her platinum-locked look to Rita Hayworth's in The Lady From Shanghai (1947) and making mention of that character's ultimate demise. *** In the DVD audio commentary for The Limey, Steven Soderbergh and Lem Dobbs deny any facile influence that Point Blank may have had on their film. But there is undoubtedly an affinity between the two movies. Both feature working-class, one-named protagonists, their stories viewed through the prism of the mind's eye. (In The Limey, it is Terence Stamp's Wilson, journeying to Los Angeles on a single-minded mission against a representative of capitalism.) The Limits of Control also reveals the Lone Man's enemy to be a capitalist, who the film credits list simply as American (Bill Murray). Soderbergh chooses to make Wilson an outsider the same way Jarmusch does…by making him a foreigner. So it is curious that while this hero type, the American loner, appeals to both Jarmusch and Soderbergh, two American artists, they cannot bring themselves to cast an American actor in the role. Instead, they reimagine the respective characters in each film to be non-natives and cast the villains as capitalist Americans—therefore, enemies of art. In this context, the Lone Man is a distillation of cinema's archetypal American existential protagonist. By reflecting other such characters that came before him, Jarmusch suggests the malleability of cinema as the times change, illustrating how our sensibilities, the characters we identify with, and the way we relate to them may shift despite the synonymity of cinema's established iconography. This post first appeared at The House Next Door on 6/14/09.

Director Steven Soderbergh on Che, Part 2

In Part 1 of this discussion, Steven Soderbergh spoke of the logistics of making and presenting his latest film, Che, starring Benicio Del Toro as revolutionary Ernesto "Che" Guevara. The full question and answer session covered a lot of ground. Here in Part 2, we conclude the discussion, as he gives us his take on the real-life Che and his ideology. On Soderbergh's impression of Che before he took on this project: "I think like most people in this country, I first heard Che’s name in history class at school, when you would get that sort of quick sketch of the history of Cuba. One of the great things about having this job is that, more often than not, I get paid to educate myself. A lot of the details of the Cuban Revolution, obviously, were not known to me. I thought that it was basically all Fidel. I didn’t know anything about these other groups that were trying to do the same thing. "My idea of Che was from those images of him, near the very end of the Cuban Revolution, with the beret and this cast on his arm. I had no idea about this transformation from being the medic to becoming a leader. I think the thing that I learned about him that was interesting to me was what a hard-ass he was. Talking to the people that fought alongside him, one of the doctors that he fought with also had a great quote. He said, 'You had to love him for free.' He just described how uncompromising he was. Most people wanted to be in Camilo [Cienfuegos]’s column, because he was fun. Che was just a very, very strict disciplinarian, and there was no moment where he sort of dropped the ideology, even in a certain personal one-on-one situation. A lot of people found him sort of cold and distant. So Benicio and I talked about that, a lot. That he really only reserved the warmer side of his personality for when he was in the doctor mode. When he was in the sort of leader-comandante mode, he was really, really harsh. I can understand why. The stakes are pretty high." On research regarding Che: "If you’ve read about Che at all, if you go to the bookstore, there’s an entire wall of Che material. There’s a lot to go through. We tried to get through all of it. We spoke to everyone who’s still around, and willing to talk, that fought with him, and knew him. And research can be… I think J.G. Ballard once said, 'Research is the refuge of the unimaginative.' There were times when I thought he was absolutely right. We were just overwhelmed with information. "As Jon Lee Anderson [author of Che Guevara: A Revolutionary Life], who was one of our consultants, said at the press conference in Cannes, 'Look, there’s a billion Ches. He means something different to everyone.' And at a certain point, we, the core creative team, just had to decide what to use and what not to use. Frankly, a lot of it was by exclusion. I went in with more of an idea of what I didn’t want to do than what I wanted to do. At least that’s a start. I mean, you can begin to shape it a little bit. "I was trying as much as I could to avoid scenes that I thought were too typical. I didn’t want to have the scene where somebody says, 'Hey, why do they call you Che?' Or, you know, him in battle and his hat blows off, and he runs over and picks up a beret. I didn’t want to do that, so that helped, too. "We’d find these crazy little stories. One of our favorites we found very late in one of the memoirs written by the Acevedo brother, who we see at the end of the film driving the car to Havana. Che stops him and says, 'Turn around.' We found that story very late in the process. It’s such a perfect Che scene, a perfect expression of who he was, so I was always on the lookout for scenes like that." On Che as a political film: "I believe that any movie that accurately presents anyone’s life, or any situation; any movie that’s not a fantasy; that isn’t just a pure entertainment; any movie that makes an attempt to show things the way they are, is to me, by definition, a political film. Whether you’ve made a cop movie or whether it’s Erin Brockovich, any movie that attempts to look at things in a straightforward fashion, and not polish it up, I think you could argue, is a political film. Obviously, these are political films, in the sense that there’s an ideology that’s being expressed. But that isn’t what drew me to it, ultimately. "I’m obviously not a communist. As I said to someone a couple of weeks ago, there isn’t even a place for me in the society that Che was trying to build, literally. In Man and Socialism in Cuba [sic], he says, 'There is no great artist who is also a true revolutionary.' He didn’t have a lot of use for the kind of stuff that I do, and I think personally, he probably would have hated me. But again, I can still look at him, and find him one of the most compelling political figures of the last century. I do think the ideas are fascinating to debate, and to look at in the context of the world we live in now. "One of the things that was interesting to me about the Cuban Revolution is that is the last time you’re ever going to see a revolution like that, fought. That’s what I call the last 'analog' revolution. Today, that would have been over in two weeks. Technology just makes it impossible to fight a revolution the way they did, as we see even seven or eight years later. That doesn’t mean revolutions don’t happen. I’m just saying I don’t think they’re ever going to happen that way again. That was kind of interesting, to make a period film about a type of war that can’t really be fought anymore." On Cuba today: "As far as what’s going on in Cuba now, I think that the relations between [our] two countries… I don’t think we’ve been very smart in how we’ve played this. I think there are other moves that could have been made, on our part, to make a dialogue more inevitable. I’m still stunned that this embargo is still going on. It’s just shocking. It doesn’t seem to make much sense. It’s my personal belief that if you wanted the embargo to end, and you wanted to see some change there, you should flood them… There’s nothing like exposure to new ideas to get people thinking about new ideas. So in fact, our policy is the opposite of what I would be doing." On Che's ideology: "I don’t think the economic policy that flows from Marxist-Leninist doctrine works. I don’t think it works. That’s a core principle of his belief system... I don’t think you can build an economy that’s going to function when you base it on this ideology. It’s an ideology that worked in a very specific place, in a very specific time, in an industrialized situation. Mostly it works on paper because as soon as you start adding human beings to it, it falls apart. Do I support his ideas when a system is in place in which profit is only possible through the exploitation of the weak and the poor? I’d say, yeah, I want to see that eradicated. But his methodology, and his economic belief system, I don’t think work." Click here for Part 1 of Soderbergh's discussion. Still provided courtesy of Getty Images.

Director Steven Soderbergh on Che, Part 1

After the recent press screening for Che, starring Benicio Del Toro as revolutionary Ernesto "Che" Guevara, director Steven Soderbergh gave a captivating discussion of the film. This was no easy feat given that we had started seeing the film at 10 a.m. and hadn't finished it until about 3 p.m. with only one 20-minute break for lunch. His discussion was so interesting, I've left most of it intact. Today, I present Part 1 in which he discusses the logistics of making and presenting the film. On what interested Soderbergh about the story of Che: "The making of this film was so extended. We started talking about it when we were working on Traffic… Producer Laura Bickford, Benicio and I started talking about it. That’s eight years ago. And what I found… why you said yes... That reason changes… during the course of the film. "It really wasn’t until the films were finished… around the time of Cannes, that I realized what they were really about to me, or what they really meant to me, was this issue of engagement versus disengagement. That every day in our lives, on a personal level, on a community level, on a local level, we are making a decision about how engaged we want to be, or how disengaged we want to be. Do we want to participate, or do we want to observe? I realized that what was compelling about Che to me was once he made the decision to engage, that he engaged fully... You have to remember he also was an atheist. A lot of times when you have figures that can sustain this sort of level of engagement, they attribute it to a higher power, or there’s some other element that they can call upon. He didn’t have that, or at least he expressed it in terms of only being concerned with what people are doing to each other here." On financing Che: "All I can say is I’m glad I’m not looking for money right now. It was complicated, but we knew it would be. I mean look at it. It took a couple of people sticking it out for a long time, and just believing in the ultimate commercial viability of the brand of Che. That’s the weird paradox about this guy. "Here is the icon of Marxist-Leninist economic ideology, and you stick his face on anything and it sells. It’s a very weird situation. And I believed if we could just get this thing made, that ultimately it would find enough of an audience to get its money back. The amount of money we had dictated a pretty strict shooting schedule. "We had 39 days for each part. To put that into context of something else that I’ve made, that’s fewer days than it took me to shoot the first Ocean’s film. So we had to move very, very quickly. There are aspects of that I really think are great. And there are aspects of it that are difficult to accept. But we didn’t have any choice. "Wild Bunch, which is a French sales and production company, and Telecinco, which is a very large Spanish television and film production company, both came in. Wild Bunch has been there since the beginning, and Telecinco came in a couple of years ago." On the logistics of shooting Che: "We had a ten day gap between the two shoots. We shot part two first, and we shot it backwards, so it was confusing. As far as casting goes, look, I was trying to stack that thing with as many well known people as I could. I put a lot of calls out. I think a lot of people see the movie, and don’t even know it’s Matt [Damon, as the American missionary]. I wasn’t really worried that it would pull them out of the film, because they were supporting characters. They didn’t carry the film on their shoulders. I was absolutely looking to cast it up. I had to. "Unfortunately, as an American, I’m not allowed to shoot in Cuba. We made many trips there that were licensed through the state department. So at least we got a look at where events actually took place. Bolivia, we were able to shoot in. Part one was shot in Mexico, Puerto Rico, and New York, obviously. Part two was Bolivia and Spain. We shot all over Spain in some very remote areas. As it turned out we had somebody working on the film who grew up in La Higuera [the Bolivian town where Che was executed]. We built that La Higuera set in the top of this mountain in the middle of nowhere. When he came to the set he was stunned. He said, 'It’s exactly where I remember growing up.' Our production designer, Antxón Gómez, did a really great job." On the aesthetic differences between the first part, The Argentine, and the second part, Guerilla: "I was trying to find a very simple way to create a different sensation for each part. The wider frame, what I consider to be a more 'Hollywood' format, I felt was more appropriate for the Cuban Revolution because it really had the trajectory of the classic Hollywood war film. 82 guys start out. Then they’re down to 12. It looks like they’re not going to make it, but they do. Everything that needs to go right goes right. They get all the breaks, and I obviously wanted it to have more of a traditional Hollywood aesthetic, including the music and the cutting. "In the second film, I want it to feel less settled where you felt that the outcome was not clear, even from the beginning. So I use the 1:85 frame which is a little less wide, and went all handheld. Gradually through the second part, the camera finally starts to get closer to him, until he’s in the schoolroom, and we end with the biggest shot of him in the film, which is the last time we see him. It seemed to me a very simple way of sending a different message to the audience about what each part was going to feel like." On the English dialogue voice-over used over Del Toro's Spanish dialogue in the New York sequence: "It seemed organic to me, because we used the actor who was his interpreter following him around in New York. It seemed appropriate to use that idea to continue hearing this guy translate Che. More importantly, there are sequences in which he is speaking, in which I do not want an English speaking audience to be reading. I want them to be able to watch the images, and hear the words, without having to read, especially during, for instance, the Battle of El Uvero, where he does the Tolstoy quote. I’ve seen the film with English subtitles. You cannot watch both things at the same time. You just can’t. That’s the reason I did it. I felt by bringing in his New York interpreter at least it was in line with this conceit of the interview, or the idea of this series of interviews that Che is doing throughout his New York trip." On Che's time in Africa, which is not covered in the film: "If this film makes a $100 million, I’ll make the third one [tongue-in-cheek]. We talked about it. The story of Che in the Congo is absolutely fascinating. We actually sort of sketched an idea for a very small film that would take place in the Congo, and in Prague, where he went after fighting in the Congo, to lick his wounds, and write a very self-critical book on what happened in the Congo. The answer is that we didn’t have enough money to do that. Also, it’s a fascinating chapter, but it didn’t really fall into the kind of bookend idea that we ended up with. "When the film was first being developed, it was only about Bolivia. And it was a little more than halfway through the process of working on that, that we decided Bolivia doesn’t really make a lot of sense unless you’ve seen Cuba. Because you keep wondering, why doesn’t he quit? It’s going so badly. You have to see what happened in Cuba to understand why he still thought they were going to pull this off. "So it grew from one manageable film into one giant film. Overseas it’s going to be split in half. So we just couldn’t fit that in. We read all that material, and in fact, there was a quote from one of the African rebels that fought with Che, Victor Dreke, which was fantastic. He said, 'Che would rather face a bullet than reality.' And that’s a perfect description of him I think." On the 268-minute roadshow version vs. two films: 'Here’s our plan, currently. Whenever the movie enters a specific market, New York, L.A., San Francisco, Chicago, Dallas, that for one week, on one screen, you can see it like you just saw it. There will be a specially printed program with the credits for both films. We’re referring to that as the roadshow version, the way they used to do in the fifties and sixties. "Yeah, sure, I think that’s the ideal way to see it. It’s a lot to ask of someone to throw away an entire day. I guess my only argument is, cinematically, we’re making a demand on the audience that’s very similar to the demands that Che made on the people around him [tongue-in-cheek]. It’s a big commitment, and it requires a certain kind of personality to want to experience it like that. It was certainly designed that way, so that you could get the full effect of the kind of call and response between the two parts." [Update]: Part 2 of Soderbergh's discussion has been posted. Still provided courtesy of Brooklyn Bridge.

Movie Review: Che - Soderbergh's Take on Guevara Is Surprisingly Even-Handed

by Tony Dayoub



In the 8 days since I saw Che, my already high estimation at the sheer audacity of its director, Steven Soderbergh, has only grown. To take such a polarizing leftist figure, and dedicate over 4 hours of Spanish language film to him, despite its audience being primarily made up of a populace that is slightly right of center, is courageous enough. But to do it in such a way that experiments with traditional narrative structure, as he does in Che is bold and not just a little quixotic given the state of cinema today. The version premiering at the New York Film Festival tonight is the “roadshow” version. That is to say, it’s a 268-minute version with a 30 minute intermission between the two parts that make up the film, The Argentine, and Guerilla.


The first part, The Argentine, follows Ernesto “Che” Guevara (Benicio Del Toro), the famous Argentinean Marxist, as he rises up the ranks of Fidel Castro’s revolutionary army in Cuba to eventually lead his own column of troops. The film climaxes with the decisive Battle of Santa Clara, which Che’s troops won, and led to the flight of Cuba’s president, Fulgencio Batista, in January 1959. This portion of the film is told in color, with black-and-white flash-forwards to Che’s December 1964 visit to the United Nations framing the central story.

The Argentine is presented in anamorphic widescreen, with smooth Steadicam tracking shots. If you pair that with the heroic depiction of Guevara and the Cuban revolutionary cause, the film comes off as a very traditional Hollywood war epic. As a viewer, you are placed in the position of rooting for Che, and if you were to only see this part of the film, an objective viewer could find it to be biased on the side of Guevara’s legendary status as a countercultural hero.

Soderbergh paints a quite admirable picture of Che as a political leader and warrior. Guevara, a doctor by profession, is at the fore when it comes to bringing basic healthcare to the poor guajiros living in Cuba’s rural areas. He is dedicated in his pursuit of deserting soldiers who steal and rape in the name of Fidel’s revolution.

The second part, Guerilla, is a very different experience from the first. It follows Guevara in his abortive attempt to foment revolution in Bolivia in 1967. Where the first part has a mainstream flavor, a la Bridge on the River Kwai (1957), Guerilla has a more circumspect and abstract view towards Che and his cause. Guerilla is shot mostly with handheld, grainy Super 16mm. Alberto Iglesias’s melodic inspirational music of the first part gives way to a darker minimalist tonal score for the second part. Tonally, it has more in common with the subjective nightmare depicted in Apocalypse Now (1979), where the greater objective of the mission is sacrificed to the basic directive of simply surviving.

Guevara is rarely shown to speak, and in fact, the viewer spends less time with him than looking at him through the eyes of his comrades. Hoping to duplicate his success in Cuba, he tries following the same rulebook in his warfare. But infighting and disloyalty within his ranks, and from the local leader of Bolivia’s Communist Party, Mario Monje (Lou Diamond Phillips), contribute to the breakdown of his organization. Where in The Argentine, Che’s well-reported asthmatic condition is treated as an interesting oddity in the leader, in Guerilla its continued resurgence throughout his campaign is a metaphor for the wheezing implosion of his cause.

Midway through Che, I, a first-generation Cuban American, was disappointed that so much of Guevara’s darker aspects had been ignored. While I believe the Cuban Right is too quick to ascribe villainous qualities to what I think was simply a misguided idealist, I am constantly disappointed to see Che Guevara idolized by the entire world despite some of the atrocities he committed in the name of the Cuban revolution. I was fearful that Soderbergh would present the same heroic perspective on Guevara that previous stories have. The film even looked to be living up to my expectations at the intermission, when only the first half of the film had been screened. But after seeing the second part of the film, I find that my fears regarding this were unfounded. Soderbergh portrays a complex Che in line with what I feel the individual to honestly be, and Del Toro is terrific in the part.

Seeing the film’s two parts presented together helps the film attain what Soderbergh refers to, in the succeeding press conference, as a "call and response" quality. Che's persistence in the lost cause of the Bolivian revolution is rationalized by his near-impossible success in the Cuban revolution. Filmically, to show the "darker" Che and his executions of dissidents, homosexuals, etc. would have been to tip one's hand storywise as to the downward stubborn, and isolated, spiral Che travels on in Guerilla. Besides, like in Lawrence of Arabia (1962), there are enough references to the darker side of this "hero" to present what I thought was a balanced picture. Indeed, there are multiple references to the executions at La Cabaña after the Castro’s victory, primarily in scenes depicting protesters during his UN visit. And his famous homophobia is also referred to, when he calls a deserter no better than a maricón, (the English equivalent would be the expletive, faggot).

But I have to disagree with Soderbergh on this format for presenting the film. I think the film plays better, as two films not one. The films are so stylistically distinct from each other, one classic, the other more formal, and have very few characters that carry over from each other for more than a few minutes. Maybe with their recent rerelease it's all The Godfather (1972) films on my mind of late, but The Argentine reminds me of Coppola's first part, building up Che the "hero", with Guerilla reminding me of Coppola's second part, tearing Che down to some extent, while also serving to deepen the experience and story of the previous part.

Soderbergh hopes to release the film in each major market in its entirety for at least a week, before breaking it up into the two separate films, The Argentine and Guerilla, to be released in January and March, respectively. I don't have enough confidence in the average moviegoer to expect them to commit to a 4-hour presentation. Like in the two parts of The Godfather, what I saw was a very commercial first half, and a very "arthouse" second half. As edited, I feel there is a structural problem with making it one film. The first half has a "call and response" of its own with the UN framing sequence. That is one editorial decision that is not stylistically duplicated in the second half. Are there any other long-form films out there with a similar conundrum that I'm forgetting?

I like the long-form, don't get me wrong, and wish Che could be shown that way. But the reality is that I think it will reach a greater audience the other way. And besides both films being bold and exemplary of Soderbergh's abilities, I think The Argentine could have a real shot at success if marketed correctly, which might lead to interest in the more difficult Guerilla.

Che is playing at the 46th New York Film Festival, at 6:00 p.m. tonight only, at the Ziegfeld Theatre, 141 West 54th Street, New York, NY 10019, (212) 307-1862

This screening will include a 30-minute intermission.

Photo Credit: IFC Films / Wild Bunch / Film Society of Lincoln Center

NYFF Days 2 thru 4 - Notes on Che and a Panel

by Tony Dayoub

Just a short post today since I'm on my way to the Film Forum downtown to catch the restored print of The Godfather Part II. I saw The Godfather there last night and it looked fantastic. Though the Forum does have an appropriately grungy vibe in most cases, I can't say it suits the Godfather films so well, as I was discussing with two fellow film aficionados today, Ron Henriques of Latino Review, and Glenn Kenny from Some Came Running. I'm sorry the venue isn't as vast and palatial as the Ziegfeld, in midtown Manhattan, is. There, we saw an exciting film today, that will no doubt prove to be controversial. It was the full 268-minute version of Steven Soderbergh's Che.


I went with my knife sharpened, I must admit, to the screening. As a first generation Cuban American, I am constantly disappointed to see Ernesto Guevara idolized by the entire world despite some of the atrocities he committed in the name of the Cuban Revolution. I also think the Cuban Right is too quick to ascribe villainous qualities to what I think was simply a misguided idealist. After reading Kenny's review when he first saw the film at Cannes, where despite liking it he stated:

[The film's] structure very conveniently elides the period wherein Che, as effective co-head of Castro's Cuban government, presided over mass executions, the persecution of homosexuals, the ruination of the island's economy, the ill-fated alliance with the Soviet Union, and so on.

I was fearful that Soderbergh would present the same heroic perspective on Guevara that previous stories have. The director was to appear at a press conference after the film, and I was prepared to hit him with some questions. The movie even looked to be living up to my expectations at the intermission, when only the first half of the film had been screened.

But after seeing the second half, I find that my fears regarding this were unfounded. Soderbergh portrays a complex Che in line with what I feel the individual to honestly be, and Benicio Del Toro is terrific in the part. I want to give some honest thought to this significant movie before I write my review, so I'm going to post it on the day of its screening, October 7th.

Other than that, I attended an interesting panel discussion on the current state of film criticism, this past Saturday, which I'll talk about more fully in the upcoming days, once I can squeeze some time in my schedule. And I will be posting a three-part Godfather series under the Seventies Cinema Revival placard (which seems to be experiencing some success) in the next few weeks, after I get through the new Blu-ray set released last week.

Below is a schedule of tonight's festival events. More information can be found at the festival's web site.

EVENT TITLES
NYFF – Festival main slate film
OSH – NYFF Sidebar: In the Realm of Oshima

SCREENING LOCATIONS
ZT – Ziegfeld Theatre, 54th St. between 6th and 7th Avenues
WRT – Walter Reade Theater, 65th St. between Amsterdam and Broadway, upper level

Monday, Sept. 29
4:30 A Town of Love and Hope, with Diary of a Yunbogi Boy (OSH/WRT)
6:00 I’m Gonna Explode, with This is Her (NYFF/ZT)
6:15 Cruel Story of Youth (OSH/WRT)
8:15 A Town of Love and Hope, with Diary of a Yunbogi Boy (OSH/WRT)
9:15 Tony Manero, with Love You More (NYFF/ZT)

Photo Credit: Wild Bunch / Film Society of Lincoln Center

NYFF Update

by Tony Dayoub



I apologize for being absent from these pages these past few days, but I've been coordinating my trip to New York for the film festival, which starts tomorrow. As some of you know, Denise and I have a 2-year-old son, and we're expecting another one in early November. So leaving her alone was not really an option. My mom graciously agreed to fly in and help (who am I kidding.... she'd give anything to spend time with her grandson). So in addition to coordinating all my activities in NYC, I was busy leaving everything ready for the rest of my family.


Unfortunately, this also means I won't be able to catch every movie at the festival, since I had to limit my time up there to 8 days. As you saw in the post last week, what a wonderful line-up they have this year. So I'm endeavoring to concentrate on films that my site would normally focus on, and hope to include some surprises.

Here's a list of some films I'll hopefully get into:

Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler
Clint Eastwood's Changeling
Mike Leigh's Happy-Go-Lucky
Steven Soderbergh's Che
Wong Kar Wai's Ashes of Time Redux

Of course, these are the notable ones from mainstream directors, I also hope to bring you some other lesser known but no less important film coverage in the days ahead. There's a panel entitled Film Criticism in Crisis? that I will be covering, and a sidebar on Japanese director Nagisa Oshima that should also prove interesting.

The coverage should include some atypical weekend posts, as well as multiple daily posts. Otherwise, you might see the odd non-festival review pop up should there be any down-time for me. There should be plenty of coverage to see here in the next two weeks, so keep coming to the site often.

Gotta get to the airport. See you soon.

The 46th New York Film Festival: Schedule for September 26th - October 12th

by Tony Dayoub



The 46th New York Film Festival opens Friday, September 26th. It has an interesting slate of films, and I'll be in the Big Apple next week to cover it. For more information, click on the links I provided. Feel free to ask me about anything more specific in the comments section below.


Otherwise, here's a schedule and a press release:

46TH NEW YORK FILM FESTIVAL, SEPT. 26 - OCT. 12Complete public schedule announced

NEW YORK, Sept. 5, 2008––The Film Society of Lincoln Center announced the complete public schedule for the 46th New York Film Festival today. The Film Society’s annual showcase of the current state of contemporary filmmaking will run Sept. 26 to Oct. 12, while the official sidebar, In the Realm of Oshima, continues to Oct. 13. The majority of festival screenings will be at the Ziegfeld Theatre, 54th St. between 6th and 7th Avenues. Opening and Closing Night screenings will take place at Lincoln Center’s Avery Fisher Hall, while several special events, panels and the popular HBO Films Dialogues will be at the Film Society’s Walter Reade Theater and in the adjacent Samuel B. & David Rose Building at the Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse.

As previously announced, the festival with open with Laurent Cantet’s The Class and close with Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler. Clint Eastwood’s Changeling is honored as the festival’s Centerpiece. The HBO Films Dialogues will recognize the remarkable careers and skills of festival favorites Aronofsky, Jia Zhangke, Wong Kar-wai and Arnaud Desplechin. Special events include filmmaking Martin Scorsese presenting a Technicolor screening of Pandora and the Flying Dutchman; Alloy Orchestra on stage with the New York premiere of their newest score, accompanying The Last Command; a variety of special panels that will examine current film criticism and discuss issues raised by the films It’s Hard Being Loved by Jerks and Guy Debord’s In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni; and other events.

Presented by the Film Society, the annual New York Film Festival showcases new works by both emerging talents and internationally recognized artists, including numerous New York, U.S., and world premieres.

The 46th New York Film Festival is sponsored by Chopard, The New York Times and Sardinia Region Tourism. Additional support from illy caffè; HBO Films; 42 Below Vodka, Maxell; and Wines from Spain. Participating sponsors include Stella Artois, Technicolor, agnes b., the Film Foundation and American Express Preservation Screening Program, and Kodak. Special thanks to Cineric; Dolby; CTS; Josephina; O'Neals; The Park Lane Hotel. Trailer courtesy of Bunker New York and Nuncle. The 46th New York Film Festival is made possible with public funds from the New York State Council on the Arts, a state agency.

The Film Society of Lincoln Center was founded in 1969 to celebrate American and international cinema, to recognize and support new directors, and to enhance the awareness, accessibility and understanding of film. Advancing this mandate today, the Film Society hosts two distinguished festivals. The New York Film Festival annually premieres films from around the world and has introduced the likes of François Truffaut, R.W. Fassbinder, Jean-Luc Godard, Pedro Almodóvar, Martin Scorsese, and Wong Kar-Wai to the United States. New Directors/New Films, co-presented by the Museum of Modern Art, focuses on emerging film talents. Since 1972, when the Film Society honored Charles Chaplin, the annual Gala Tribute celebrates an actor or filmmaker who has helped distinguish cinema as an art form. Additionally, the Film Society presents a year-round calendar of programming at its Walter Reade Theater and offers insightful film writing to a worldwide audience through Film Comment magazine.

46th New York Film Festival, Sept. 26 – Oct. 12Complete public screening schedule

EVENT TITLES
NYFF – Festival main slate film
OSH – NYFF Sidebar: In the Realm of Oshima
VAG – Views from the Avant-Garde
SE – Festival special event

SCREENING LOCATIONS
ZT – Ziegfeld Theatre, 54th St. between 6th and 7th Avenues
AFH – Avery Fisher Hall, Broadway and 65th Street
WRT – Walter Reade Theater, 65th St. between Amsterdam and Broadway, upper level
KP – Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse, 65th St. between Amsterdam and Broadway, 10th Floor

Friday, Sept. 268:00 OPENING NIGHT: The Class, 128m (NYFF/AFH)
9:00 OPENING NIGHT: The Class (NYFF/ZT)

Saturday, Sept. 2711:00am Cruel Story of Youth, 96m (OSH/WRT)
12:00 Hunger, 96m (NYFF/ZT)
1:00 PANEL: Film Criticism in Crisis? (SE/WRT)
3:00 24 City, 112m (NYFF/ZT)
3:00 A Town of Love and Hope, 62m, with Diary of a Yunbogi Boy, 24m (OSH/WRT)
4:45 Night and Fog in Japan, 107m (OSH/WRT)
6:15 Happy-Go-Lucky, 118m (NYFF/ZT)
7:00 Diary of a Shinjuku Thief, 94m (OSH/WRT)
9:00 Pleasures of the Flesh, 90m (OSH/WRT)
9:30 Wendy and Lucy, 80m, with Cry Me a River, 19m (NYFF/ZT)
midnight In the Realm of the Senses, 110m (OSH/WRT)

Sunday, Sept. 2812:00 Happy-Go-Lucky (NYFF/ZT)
12:30 The Man Who Left His Will on Film, 94m (OSH/WRT)
2:30 The Sun’s Burial, 87m (OSH/WRT)
3:15 Wendy and Lucy, with Cry Me a River (NYFF/ZT)
4:00 HBO FILMS DIALOGUES: Jia Zhangke (SE/KP)
4:30 Empire of Passion, 106m (OSH/WRT)
6:15 Hunger (NYFF/ZT)
6:45 Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence, 122m (OSH/WRT)
9:00 I’m Gonna Explode, 106m, with This is Her, 12m (NYFF/ZT)
9:15 Taboo, 100m (OSH/WRT)

Monday, Sept. 294:30 A Town of Love and Hope, with Diary of a Yunbogi Boy (OSH/WRT)
6:00 I’m Gonna Explode, with This is Her (NYFF/ZT)
6:15 Cruel Story of Youth (OSH/WRT)
8:15 A Town of Love and Hope, with Diary of a Yunbogi Boy (OSH/WRT)
9:15 Tony Manero, 98m, with Love You More, 15m (NYFF/ZT)

Tuesday, Sept. 304:30 The Sun’s Burial (OSH/WRT)
6:00 Tony Manero, with Love You More (NYFF/ZT)
6:20 The Catch, 105m (OSH/WRT)
8:30 Night and Fog in Japan (OSH/WRT)
9:15 The Northern Land, 122m, with Surprise!, 18m (NYFF/ZT)

Wednesday, Oct. 16:00 A Summer Hours, 103m, with Ralph, 14m (NYFF/ZT)
6:30 FREE PANEL: The Place of Oshima (OSH/WRT)
9:00 Shiro of Amakusa, The Christian Rebel, 100m (OSH/WRT)
9:15 Waltz with Bashir, 90m, with I Don’t Feel Like Dancing, 7m (NYFF/ZT)

Thursday, Oct. 24:30 Shiro of Amakusa, The Christian Rebel (OSH/WRT)
6:00 Waltz with Bashir, with I Don’t Feel Like Dancing (NYFF/ZT)
6:30 Pleasures of the Flesh (OSH/WRT)
8:40 Band of Ninja, 100m (OSH/WRT)
9:00 Summer Hours, with Ralph (NYFF/ZT)

Friday, Oct. 34:30 Japanese Summer: Double Suicide, 98m (OSH/WRT)
6:00 Gomorrah, 137m (NYFF/ZT)
6:30 In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni, 100m (VAG/WRT)
9:30 Four Nights with Anna, 87m, with Pal Secam, 14m (NYFF/ZT)
10:00 In the Realm of the Senses (OSH/WRT)

Saturday, Oct 411:15am Lola Montès, 115m (NYFF/ZT)
12:00 The Warmth of the Sun, 100m (VAG/WRT)
2:30 Night and Day, 144m (NYFF/ZT)
3:30 Andrew Noren, 101m (VAG/WRT)
6:15 Ashes of Time Redux, 93m, with Dust, 7m (NYFF/ZT)
6:30 Nathaniel Dorsky, 70m (VAG/WRT)
8:45 Bruce Conner tribute, 89.5m (VAG/WRT)
9:15 CENTERPIECE: Changeling, 140m, with Wait For Me, 3m (NYFF/ZT)
midnight Ashes of Time Redux, with Dust (NYFF/WRT)

Sunday, Oct. 511:15am CENTERPIECE: Changeling, with Wait For Me (NYFF/ZT)
12:00 Time of the Signs, 84m (VAG/WRT)
3:00 Four Nights with Anna, with Pal Secam (NYFF/ZT)
3:00 Craig Baldwin, 123m (VAG/WRT)
4:00 HBO FILMS DIALOGUES: Wong Kar-wai (SE/KP)
6:00 The Windmill Movie, 80m, with Quarry, 12m (NYFF/ZT)
6:00 still wave, 102.5m (VAG/WRT)
9:00 Gomorrah (NYFF/ZT)
9:00 James Benning, 112m (VAG/WRT)

Monday, Oct. 66:00 Afterschool, 106m (NYFF/ZT)
6:00 The Last Command, 88m (SE/WRT)
8:30 The Last Command (SE/WRT)
9:15 The Headless Woman, 87m, with I Hear Your Scream, 11m (NYFF/ZT)

Tuesday, Oct. 74:30 Sing a Song of Sex, 103m (OSH/WRT)
6:00 Che, 268m (NYFF/ZT)
6:40 Violence at Noon, 99m (OSH/WRT)
8:45 Japanese Summer: Double Suicide (OSH/WRT)

Wednesday, Oct. 84:30 Death by Hanging, 117m (OSH/WRT)
6:00 The Headless Woman, with I Hear Your Scream (NYFF/ZT)
7:00 Diary of a Shinjuku Thief (OSH/WRT)
9:00 Afterschool (NYFF/ZT)
9:00 Sing a Song of Sex (OSH/WRT)

Thursday, Oct. 94:30 Dear Summer Sister, 96m (OSH/WRT)
6:00 Tokyo Sonata, 119m, with Love is Dead, 17m (NYFF/ZT)
6:30 Boy, 97m (OSH/WRT)
8:30 Three Resurrected Drunkards, 80m (OSH/WRT)
9:00 Tulpan, 100m, with Deweneti, 15m (NYFF/ZT)

Friday, Oct. 102:00 Three Resurrected Drunkards (OSH/WRT)
3:45 Kyoto, My Mothers Place, 50m, with 100 Years of Japanese Cinema, 52m (OSH/WRT)
6:00 A Christmas Tale, 150m (NYFF/ZT)
6:15 Pandora and the Flying Dutchman, 122m (SE/WRT)
9:00 Max mon amour, 98m (OSH/WRT)
9:45 Let It Rain, 110m, with Unpredictable Behaviour, 5m (NYFF/ZT)

Saturday, Oct. 1111:15am A Christmas Tale (NYFF/ZT)
1:30 HBO FILMS DIALOGUES: Darren Aronofsky (SE/KP)
3:00 Chouga, 91m, with Gauge, 9m (NYFF/ZT)
4:00 Death by Hanging (OSH/WRT)
4:30 HBO FILMS DIALOGUES: Arnaud Desplechin (SE/KP)
6:00 Tulpan, with Deweneti (NYFF/ZT)
6:30 The Day Shall Dawn, 87m (SE/WRT)
9:00 Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence (OSH/WRT)
9:15 Tokyo Sonata, with Love is Dead (NYFF/ZT)

Sunday, Oct. 1211:15am Let It Rain, with Unpredictable Behaviour (NYFF/ZT)
1:00 It’s Hard Being Loved by Jerks, 119m (SE/WRT)
2:30 Bullet in the Head, 85m (NYFF/ZT)
4:30 The Man Who Left His Will on Film (OSH/WRT)
5:15 Serbis, 90m, with Maybe Tomorrow, 12m (NYFF/ZT)
6:30 The Ceremony, 122m (OSH/WRT)
8:30 CLOSING NIGHT: The Wrestler, 109m, with Security, 13m (NYFF/AFH)
9:00 Dear Summer Sister (OSH/WRT)

Monday, Oct. 132:00 Taboo (OSH/WRT)
4:00 Kyoto, My Mothers Place, with 100 Years of Japanese Cinema (OSH/WRT)
6:30 Empire of Passion (OSH/WRT)
8:45 Taboo (OSH/WRT)

All times p.m. except where noted