this week in film and television

JAPAN CUTS 2016: LOVE & PEACE

The hapless and pathetic Ryohei Suzuki (Hiroki Hasegawa) becomes obsessed with an unusual turtle in Sion Sono’s LOVE & PEACE

FESTIVAL OF NEW JAPANESE FILM: LOVE & PEACE (RABU & PISU) (ラブ＆ピース) (Sion Sono, 2015)
Japan Society
333 East 47th St. at First Ave.
Saturday, July 16, 7:30
Series runs July 14-24
212-715-1258
www.japansociety.org
love-peace.asmik-ace.co.jp

Unpredictable Japanese writer-director Sion Sono defies expectations once again with Love & Peace, a wacky tokusatsu tale that has been gestating for more than two decades but has finally hit the big screen, with all its crazy madness. One of six films Sono (Himizu, Why Don’t You Play in Hell?) Sono made in 2015, Love & Peace is a deranged romp about Ryohei Suzuki (Hiroki Hasegawa), a thirty-three-year-old onetime pop star who quit making music because no one came to his three concerts. So instead he became a clerk and Japan’s poster child for failure, a laughingstock made fun of everywhere he goes. He is a hapless, pathetic fool who walks around with a perpetual stomachache, his coworkers put stickers on him that say “Hazardous Waste,” and is castigated on television. “His name repulses me,” one television announcer says. “Why does he exist?” demands another. But Ryo’s life takes a turn when he becomes obsessed with a tiny turtle he names Pikadon, a Japanese phrase that references the Hiroshima and Nagasaki nuclear bombs; “pika” means “brilliant light,” and “don” means “boom.” Through some magic initiated from a very strange man (Toshiyuki Nishida) who operates a kind of haven for misfit toys, Pikadon starts growing, morphing into an animated character, and as he gets bigger, so does Ryo’s career, as he goes back to making music. Through it all, he is supported by mousey coworker Yuko (Kumiko Aso), although he has no idea how to pursue romance. By the way, if any of that plot description made sense, we apologize, because Love & Peace makes very little sense, but that doesn’t prevent it from being a lot of fun in a completely berserk, bonkers way.

Love & Peace is being promoted as a family film, but it’s not exactly typical fare for kids. In true Takashi Miike style, Sono stirs a huge pot that incorporates elements from Godzilla and Pokemon, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and the Quay Brothers, Babe and Ted, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Toy Story, with a soundtrack that relies heavily on Walter Carlos’s march from A Clockwork Orange. It also features a collection of talking dolls and animals that would be outcasts in Pee-Wee’s Playhouse, including the downtrodden Maria, the toy robot PC-300, and the worried Sulkie the Cat. In the meantime, Japan is getting excited about the 2020 Summer Olympics, which will be held in Tokyo, believing it will bring prosperity to all, but that pie-in-the-sky Pollyanna attitude is a pipe dream that glosses over the country’s various economic and social dilemmas. Well, maybe. We’re not really sure quite what happens, but we couldn’t look away for a second. Love & Peace is screening on July 16 at 7:30 at Japan’s tenth annual Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film and will be introduced by Sono via video. For an added treat, the North American premiere of Arata Oshima’s documentary The Sion Sono is being shown on July 16 at 2:30, followed by the New York premiere of Sono’s sci-fi drama The Whispering Star. Japan Cuts runs July 14-24, consisting of more than two dozen films, Q&As, a panel discussion, and more.

DON’T BLINK — ROBERT FRANK

Robert Frank takes a unique look at his life and career in documentary made by his longtime editor

DON’T BLINK — ROBERT FRANK (Laura Israel, 2015)
Film Forum
209 West Houston St.
Opens Wednesday, July 13
212-727-8110
www.dontblinkrobertfrank.com
filmforum.org

“I hate these fucking interviews,” innovative, influential, ornery, and iconoclastic photographer and filmmaker Robert Frank says while preparing to be interviewed in 1984; the scene is shown in Laura Israel’s new documentary, Don’t Blink — Robert Frank. “I’d like to walk out of the fucking frame,” he adds, then does just that. But in Don’t Blink, Frank finds himself walking once more into the frame as Israel, his longtime film editor, attempts to get him to open up about his life and career. Born in Zurich in 1924, Frank immigrated to the United States in 1947, became a fashion photographer, and had his artistic breakthrough in 1958 with the publication of the controversial photo book The Americans, which captured people unawares from all over the country, using no captions, just image, to get his point across. (In 2009, “The Americans”) was installed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in addition to a gallery show of related photographs at Pace/McGill.) In the film, Frank does talk about his past and present, discussing his time with such Beats as Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, William S. Burroughs, and Peter Orlovsky, which he displayed in the 1959 film Pull My Daisy, narrated by an improvising Kerouac and codirected by Alfred Leslie; touching on the tragic early deaths of his son and daughter; sharing details about his parents, including his father, whose hobby was photography; hanging out with his wife, fellow artist June Leaf; and delving into such influences as Walker Evans and his creative process, which is not exactly complex. “Usually the first picture is the best one. Make sure they’re smiling, say cheese,” Frank says with a laugh, then adds, “The main thing is get it over, quick.” Israel takes that advice to heart, trying to get what she can out of Frank before he changes his mind; at first he didn’t want to participate in the film at all, but once he went with it, he also made sure to playfully battle with Israel over who was really in control.

Robert Frank has fun with some of his old films in DON’T BLINK

Israel (Windfall) does not tell Frank’s story chronologically but instead relies on a kind of thematic wandering through his life, intercutting old lectures, interviews, home movies, and photographs with clips from such Frank films as Conversations in Vermont, About Me: A Musical, Energy and How to Get It, Candy Mountain, One Hour, and Paper Route. Israel spends the most time on Cocksucker Blues, an unreleased work about the Rolling Stones on tour in 1972 (and about which Mick Jagger told Frank, “It’s a fucking good film, Robert, but if it shows in America we’ll never be allowed in the country again”), and Me and My Brother, which focuses on Julius Orlovsky, Peter Orlovsky’s brother, who suddenly awakened from a catatonic state and had some fascinating things to say. Just as Frank’s films went back and forth between color and black-and-white and avoided conventional storytelling methods, Israel does the same with Don’t Blink, using offbeat angles, also switching between color and black-and-white, and incorporating other deft touches that lend insight to Frank, who is now ninety-one and still has disheveled hair, and his work, especially when he’s taking Polaroids and scratching and painting on the back of the pictures. (Alex Bingham served as both editor and art director, while the cinematography is by Lisa Rinzler.) The film’s fierce soundtrack meshes well with Frank’s independent streak, with songs by the Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, the Mekons, New Order, the Kills, Yo La Tengo, Patti Smith, Johnny Thunders, the White Stripes, and Tom Waits, many of whom Israel has made music videos for. Perhaps at the heart of Frank’s methodology is what he calls “spontaneous intuition,” something that works for both life and art and helps propel Israel’s warmhearted but never worshipful documentary; their camaraderie is evident in nearly every frame. Don’t Blink — Robert Frank opens July 13 at Film Forum, with Israel participating in Q&As following the 8:00 screening on July 13 with author Nicholas Dawidoff, after the 8:00 screening on July 15 with Bingham, Rinzler, and producer Melinda Shopsin, and at the 4:15 show on July 17 with Ed Lachman, the award-winning DP who has shot several Todd Haynes films and is credited with additional camera on Don’t Blink. And as a bonus, Film Forum will be showing the rarely screened Cocksucker Blues at 9:50 on July 20 and 21. (Don’t Blink also serves as excellent preparation for the upcoming BAMcinématek survey “The Films of Robert Frank,” which consists of twenty-five works by Frank screened on Thursday nights August 4 through September 22.)

FOUR MORE YEARS — AN ELECTION SPECIAL: THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE

Bennett Marco (Frank Sinatra) and Raymond Shaw (Laurence Harvey) need to clear their heads in THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE

THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE (John Frankenheimer, 1962)
BAMcinématek, BAM Rose Cinemas
30 Lafayette Ave. between Ashland Pl. & St. Felix St.
Friday, July 15, and Saturday, July 16
Series runs July 15 – August 3
718-636-4100
www.bam.org

BAMcinématek is celebrating the craziness about to take place at this month’s Republican and Democratic National Conventions with the three-week series “Four More Years: An Election Special,” consisting of twenty fiction and nonfiction films (although it’s sometimes hard to tell the difference) set in the lunatic world that is American politics. The festival kicks off July 15-16 with one of the greatest political thrillers ever made, John Frankenheimer’s unconventional Cold War conspiracy noir, The Manchurian Candidate. Ten years after fighting in Korea, Maj. Bennett Marco (Frank Sinatra) remains in the military, working in intelligence. He is haunted by terrifying nightmares in which his unit, led by Sgt. Raymond Shaw (Laurence Harvey), is at a woman’s gardening club lecture that turns into a Communist brainwashing session orchestrated by the menacing Dr. Yen Lo (Khigh Dheigh) of the Pavlov Institute. Meanwhile, the decorated but clearly tortured Shaw has to deal with his power-hungry mother, Mrs. Iselin (Angela Lansbury), who is manipulating everyone she can to ensure that her second husband, the McCarthy-like Sen. John Yerkes Iselin (James Gregory), becomes the Republican vice presidential nominee. As Marco gets to the bottom of the mystery, the clock keeps ticking toward an inevitable crisis with lives on the line and the very future of democracy at stake.

Maj. Bennett Marco (Frank Sinatra) and Eugenie Rose Cheyney (Janet Leigh) have a rough go of it in John Frankenheimer’s Cold War cult classic

Written by George Axelrod based on the book by Richard Condon (Winter Kills, Prizzi’s Honor), The Manchurian Candidate is a tense, gripping work that feels oddly prescient when seen today. Frankenheimer (Birdman of Alcatraz, Seven Days in May, Seconds) keeps the suspense at Hitchockian levels, particularly as the finale nears, while throwing in doses of dark satire and complex romance. Shaw tries to reconnect with his lost love, Jocelyn Jordan (Leslie Parrish), daughter of erudite Democratic Sen. Thomas Jordan (John McGiver), while Marco is intrigued by Eugenie Rose Cheyney (Janet Leigh); their meeting scene in between cars on a train is an offbeat joy, thought to be impacted by Leigh’s real-life breakup with Tony Curtis that very day. Sinatra, whose previous films included From Here to Eternity and Suddenly — he played a presidential assassin in the latter — once again gets to show off his strong acting chops, especially in a long, uncut scene with Harvey (Room at the Top, Darling) and a fierce fight with Harvey’s servant, Chunjin (Ocean Eleven’s Henry Silva). Oscar nominee Lansbury relishes her role as Shaw’s villainous mother (in reality, she was only three years older than he was), manipulating her blowhard husband like a puppet. The dramatic music is by composer David Amram (Pull My Daisy), the moody cinematography by Lionel Lindon (All Fall Down, I Want to Live!), with narration by Paul Frees, who went on to voice such cartoon characters as Burgermeister Meisterburger in Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town and Santa Claus in Frosty the Snowman, in addition to many others. Among the New York City landmarks featured in the film are Central Park and the old Madison Square Garden. And you’ll never look at the Queen of Diamonds or play solitaire quite the same way again. The film’s cultlike status was enhanced because it was out of circulation for a quarter of a century until Sinatra, claiming he hadn’t known that he had owned the the rights since 1972, rereleased it in 1988. “Four More Years: An Election Special” continues through August 3 with such other gems as Franklin J. Schaffner’s The Best Man, Hal Ashby’s Shampoo, Haskell Wexler’s Medium Cool, and Frank Capra’s State of the Union.

OUTDOOR CINEMA: L’ATALANTE

Michel Simon has loads of fun as a somewhat decrepit first mate in Jean Vigo’s classic L’ATALANTE

L’ATALANTE (Jean Vigo, 1934)
Socrates Sculpture Park
32-01 Vernon Blvd.
Wednesday, July 13, free, live music at 7:00, screening at sunset
718-956-1819
www.socratessculpturepark.org

Swiss actor Michel Simon is spectacularly hilarious as an aging, somewhat decrepit first mate with a peculiar lust for life and cats in French auteur Jean Vigo’s fourth and final film, L’Atalante. After barge captain Jean (Jean Dasté) and Juliette (Dita Parlo) get married in her small, tight-knit country town, they head for the big city of Paris on the long boat, L’Atalante, that he captains as his job. First mate Père Jules (Simon) and his young cabin boy (Louis Lefebvre) come along for the would-be honeymoon, attempting to make sure it’s a smooth ride, which of course it’s not. Juliette wants to enjoy the Parisian nightlife, Jean is a jealous, overprotective stick-in-the-mud, and Père Jules — well, Père Jules is downright unpredictable, pretty much all id, living life footloose and fancy free even if he doesn’t have much money or many true friends. When a love-struck bicycle-riding peddler (Gilles Margaritis) tries to woo Juliette, Jean grows angry, and an emotional and psychological battle ensues. But through it all, Père Jules just keeps on keepin’ on, never getting too concerned, confident that everything will work out in the end, because that’s what happens in life.

Jean (Jean Dasté) is jealous of a hotshot peddler (Gilles Margaritis) trying to steal his wife (Dita Parlo) in L’ATALANTE

The son of anarchist Miguel Almereyda, who chose his last name because it is an anagram of the French phrase for “there is shit,” Vigo had been labeled a subversive for his first film, À propos de Nice, and his third film, Zéro de conduite, had been banned. So he went a little more conventional, at least for him, with L’Atalante, rewriting with Albert Riéra an original script by Jean Guinée. The film is an insightful tale of love and romance, of wealth and poverty, of hard social conditions, focusing on a wacky man who has experienced a lot in his life, even though he looks like a bum, reminiscent of Simon’s brilliant portrayal of Priape in Jean Renoir’s Boudu Saved from Drowning. Whether putting on a puppet show, displaying his tattoos, getting his fortune read, or walking around with cats on his shoulders, Père Jules is one of the most endearing and memorable characters in the history of cinema, a unique figure who surprises over and over again, and Simon’s portrayal is just amazing; it’s hard to believe that he was only thirty-nine when he made the picture. The highly poetic film, featuring a lovely score by Maurice Jaubert, also echoes F. W. Murnau’s Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, only from a comic, often slapstick angle. After shooting was completed, Vigo’s already failing health took a turn for the worse, and a battle ensued over final cut involving the producers and editor Louis Chavance and cinematographer Boris Kaufman (Dziga Vertov’s brother, who went on to shoot such American classics as On the Waterfront and 12 Angry Men). Vigo died in October 1934 at the age of twenty-nine, only a few weeks after L’Atalante was released. L’Atalante is screening July 13 in Long Island City as part of Socrates Sculpture Park’s free summer Outdoor Cinema series, programmed by Film Forum, and will be preceded by a live performance by Le Petit Pepinot, with French food available for purchase from Le Fond and La Maison du Soufflé. The seventeenth annual series continues through August 24 with such other international films as Rokhsareh Ghaem Maghami’s Sonita, Lou Ye’s Suzhou River, and Werner Herzog’s Aguirre, the Wrath of God.

BURNING BRIGHT — NEW FRENCH FILMMAKERS: PARIS, LOVE, CUT

Gabrielle (Louise Coldefy) and Arnaud Viard (Arnaud Viard) explore acting and more in PARIS, LOVE, CUT

CINÉSALON: PARIS, LOVE, CUT (ARNAUD FAIT SON 2ÈME) (Arnaud Viard, 2015)
French Institute Alliance Française, Florence Gould Hall
55 East 59th St. between Madison & Park Aves.
Tuesday, July 12, $14, 4:00 & 7:30 (later screening introduced by Alan Brown)
Series continues Tuesdays through July 26
212-355-6100
fiaf.org

“I like mixing fiction and reality,” writer, director, and star Arnaud Viard says in his second film, Paris, Love, Cut, the French title of which is Arnaud fait son 2ème film, or “Arnaud Makes His Second Film.” As the movie opens, Viard, sitting on the toilet, says directly into the camera, “Sometimes, in life, nothing works. You struggle . . . Nothing. Then, one day, it all flows. Just like that. Fluid. Magnificent. As if you were constipated, then suddenly . . . not at all. Last time things flowed was when I made my first film.” A longtime television actor who made his biggest impact as Jean-François in the French series Que du bonheur, Viard released his debut feature, Clara et moi, in 2004, then experienced difficulties raising money for his follow-up. In Paris, Love, Cut, Viard plays a version of himself, a longtime television actor who made his biggest impact as Jean-François in the French series Happy Times and who released his debut feature in 2004, then experienced difficulties raising money for his follow-up. Viard is trying to have a baby with his girlfriend, Chloé (Irène Jacob), but she is having trouble getting pregnant, echoing his inability to give birth to his second film, which he decides will be about a man unable to get an erection. He takes a job teaching an acting class, where he falls for twenty-one-year-old student Gabrielle (Louise Coldefy), whose goal is to become a famous actress. As he meets with his producer (Christophe Rossignon), other directors, his ailing mother (Nadine Alari), a sex coach (Chris Esquerre), a psychoanalyst (Pierre Aussedat), a tax agent (Marie-Christine Laurent), his sisters, and various dates, he has a generally positive take on life; he is soft-spoken and gentle, with a fun sense of humor whether being audited or going to a party thrown by his students, one of whom (Hamza Meziani) gets to the heart of the matter when he delivers a monologue from Alfred de Musset’s Don’t Fool with Love: “All men are liars, false, fickle, hypocritical, cowardly, contemptible, sensual. All women are faithless, deceitful, vain, curious, and depraved. The world is a bottomless sewer where shapeless beasts writhe on mountains of filth. But one thing is holy and sublime, the union of two beings, so imperfect and horrible.”

Much of Paris, Love, Cut serves as personal and professional wish fulfillment for both the real and the fictional Viard — if there is a difference. Evoking a mix of Woody Allen’s Annie Hall and Manhattan, Nanni Moretti’s Caro Diario, and Caveh Zahedi’s I Am a Sex Addict, Viard lays his neuroses out there for all to see, primarily keeping it as lighthearted as the soundtrack, while also getting naked with some beautiful women. He pays homage to François Truffaut and The Last Metro while exploring a midlife crisis that isn’t really much of a crisis, which is not to say he isn’t facing some difficult situations and has to make some hard choices. But like the title of his real and fictional series, these are still some pretty happy times for him, in a pretty happy movie. FIAF is presenting the U.S. premiere of Paris, Love, Cut at 4:00 and 7:30 on July 12 in its CinéSalon series “Burning Bright: New French Filmmakers”; the later screening will be introduced by writer-director Alan Brown (Book of Love, Superheroes). The series continues Tuesday nights in July with Thomas Salvador’s Vincent and Jean-Charles Hue’s Eat Your Bones.

INDIAN POINT

The future of Indian Point and nuclear energy is debated in new documentary

INDIAN POINT (Ivy Meeropol, 2015)
Film Society of Lincoln Center, Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center, Howard Gilman Theater
144 West 65th St. between Eighth Ave. & Broadway
Opens Friday, July 8
212-875-5050
www.indianpointfilm.com
www.filmlinc.org

The Indian Point Energy Center has been fraught with controversy since it first opened in 1962 in Buchanan, New York, a mere forty-five miles from Midtown Manhattan. Documentarian Ivy Meeropol takes a close look at the past, present, and future of the embattled nuclear power plant in Indian Point, an important film that examines the complex situation from all angles. In the wake of Fukushima, eyes were once again cast at Indian Point, particularly as it approached its twenty-year recertification. Meeropol takes us inside the plant for a fascinating look at its operations, focusing on safety measures and literal and figurative cracks in the system. “This plant, in this proximity to New York City, was never a good risk,” Gov. Cuomo says in a press conference at the beginning of the film. Men and women on multiple sides of the issue speak with Meeropol, offering their take on what is happening. “Everyone has their fingers crossed under the table and they’re, like, let’s just hope nobody fucks up and they don’t have an accident,” says lawyer Phillip Musegaas of the watchdog organization Riverkeeper, which defends and protects the Hudson River. “We try to minimize that risk as much as we can. That’s our job,” explains Brian Vangor, a senior control room operator who has been working at Indian Point for more than thirty-five years. Somewhere in the middle is environmental journalist Roger Witherspoon, who notes, “For those who work in the nuclear industry, this is a ‘safe’ plant. For those who don’t work in the nuclear industry, there are risks you don’t want to live with.” Witherspoon is married to Marilyn Elie, a fierce activist who is part of IPSEC, the Indian Point Safe Energy Coalition. But the most interesting individual in the film is Gregory Jaczko, who at the time of filming was the chairman of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission and faces stiff opposition from within when he starts questioning Indian Point’s recertification.

Meeropol allows everyone to have their say as they discuss Indian Point’s outdated design, the flushing of more than 2.5 billion gallons of water into the Hudson every day, Indian Point’s safety record, clean energy options, and the frightening lessons learned from Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, and Fukushima. It also delves into the politics involved, as Jaczko tries to get at the truth, even visiting Fukushima, while he hits an unfriendly brick wall at home. Meeropol keeps everything civil despite the contentiousness of the topic. “This is not a film about whether nuclear power is good or bad,” she writes in her director’s statement. “What is this grand bargain we’ve made with ourselves to power the world and how can we make sure it doesn’t destroy us?” After the film was completed and being shown at festivals, it was reported this past February that the level of radioactivity in groundwater by Indian Point had spiked, leading to yet more inspections and investigations. A film that raises all the right questions, Indian Point opens at the Howard Gilman Theater at the Film Society of Lincoln Center on July 8, with Meeropol taking part in Q&As following the 7:00 screenings on July 8 and 9 and the 5:00 show on July 10.

OUR LITTLE SISTER

Four sisters come together after their father’s death in latest masterpiece from Hirokazu Kore-eda

OUR LITTLE SISTER (Hirokazu Kore-eda, 2015)
Angelika Film Center, 18 West Houston St. at Mercer St., 212-995-2570
Lincoln Plaza Cinema, 1886 Broadway between 62nd & 63rd Sts., 212-757-2280
Opens Friday, July 8
sonyclassics.com

In such films as Still Walking, Nobody Knows, and Like Father, Like Son, Japanese writer-director-editor Hirokazu Kore-eda has crafted beautifully told tales of parents and children, of estrangement and divorce, of death and ritual and the unbreakable bonds between siblings. In his latest minimalist masterpiece, Our Little Sister, he focuses on the women of the happily dysfunctional Kōda family in the scenic city of Kamakura. Sachi (Haruka Ayase), Yoshino (Masami Nagasawa), and Chika (Kaho) live together in a large house, where they go about their days with the normal trials and tribulations of twentysomething women. Sachi, the oldest, is a nurse who acts as a surrogate mother to her younger sisters, since their real mother plays almost no role in their lives. Yoshino, the middle sister, works in a bank and likes to stay out late drinking and partying. And Chika, the baby of the trio, is sweet and goofy, but not as goofy as her mountain-climbing boyfriend. When their long-estranged father dies, they decide to attend the funeral, where they meet their dad’s thirteen-year-old daughter from his second of three marriages, Suzu Asano (Suzu Hirose), a solid, smart girl who seems a bit lost now that both of her parents are dead. So the three older sisters invite her to move in with them in Kamakura and extend their family. The four immediately grow close as they live their daily lives, going to work or school, eating together, interacting with the opposite sex, and honoring their deceased ancestors. Suzu also regales them with tales of their father, some of which surprise them. Not a whole lot happens except a series of heartfelt, realistic scenes that audiences of all kinds can relate to.

Freely adapted from Akimi Yoshida’s josei manga Umimachi Diary, Our Little Sister simmers with the beauty and energy of real life, as Kore-eda offers viewers a fly-on-the-wall look at four exquisite women living day by day. Kore-eda once again blends documentary techniques with the intimate style of Yasujirō Ozu to fully develop his delightful characters, from the four sisters to their great-aunt to a student smitten with Suzu to local diner owner Sachiko Ninomiya (Jun Fubuki), who serves as a kind of tenderhearted matriarchal figure to the community. Yoko Kanno’s sweet music and Mikiya Takimoto’s lovely cinematography make it all a visual and aural pleasure, along with a fabulous cast that acts with an infectious naturalism. No one makes family dramas like Kore-eda, who skillfully avoids treacly plot twists in favor of simplicity, making it all seem easy. If you’ve never seen a Kore-eda film, Our Little Sister is a great place to start, and if you have experienced any of his previous work, this one is another gentle, graceful, and immensely engaging tour de force from one of the world’s most talented and original filmmakers.