Georges Méliès’s A TRIP TO THE MOON is part of unusual double feature at FIAF
THE VIRGIN SUICIDES (Sofia Coppola, 1999) and A TRIP TO THE MOON (Georges Méliès, 1902)
French Institute Alliance Française, Florence Gould Hall
55 East 59th St. between Madison & Park Aves.
Tuesday, April 12, $14, 4:00 & 7:30
Series continues Tuesdays through April 26
212-355-6100
www.fiaf.org
FIAF’s CinéSalon series includes an unusual double feature that doesn’t seem to make sense as part of “EDM Anthems: French Touch on Film,” which began with Daft Punk Unchained and previously screened Mia Hansen-Løve’s Eden, a fictionalized journey into the start of the electronic dance movement scene. But as it turns out, the 2010 restoration of Georges Méliès’s 1902 classic, A Trip to the Moon (“Le Voyage dans la Lune”), one of the most influential films ever made, and Sofia Coppola’s 1999 adaptation of Jeffrey Eugenides’s debut novel, The Virgin Suicides, have something key in common: Both feature soundtracks by French electronica duo Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoît Dunckel, better known as Air. A Trip to the Moon is an early example of narrative storytelling and, specifically, science fiction, a fifteen-minute adventure that goes from an Astronomic Club meeting of scientists to the moon, pushing the boundaries of cinema. Méliès himself plays Professor Barbenfouillis, who leads a contingent of five men (entertainers Victor André, Delpierre, Farjaux, Kelm, and Brunnet) into space, guiding their self-built capsule directly, and famously, into the eye of the man in the moon. Once there, the men, sans space suits or oxygen tanks, do battle with the Selenites before attempting to return home. Inspired by the works of Jules Verne and H. G. Wells, Méliès creates a world that is a kind of mash-up of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz, with fanciful characters, hallucinogenic scenes, and a robust color scheme; of course, those films came later, but the books were in print by 1900. Air’s score, which includes vocalizations, lends the proceedings a, dare we say, trippy atmosphere.
A family is torn apart by tragedy in Sofia Coppola’s THE VIRGIN SUICIDES
The Virgin Suicides, which traces the downfall of a suburban Michigan family in the 1970s, is chock-full of period songs, with well-known tunes by Heart, the Hollies, Carole King, Styx, Todd Rundgren, 10CC, the Bee Gees, and ELO all over the film. But it’s Air’s score that gives it added emotional depth, from tender piano lines that evoke Pink Floyd and late-era Beatles to rowdier, synth-and-drum-heavy moments to mournful dirges and hypnotic, spacey sojourns. In the film, nerdy math teacher Ronald Lisbon (James Woods) and his wife (Kathleen Turner) are raising five teenage girls, Therese (Leslie Hayman), Mary (A. J. Cook), Bonnie (Chelse Swain), Lux (Kirsten Dunst), and Cecilia (Hanna R. Hall). As the tale begins, Cecilia is rushed to the hospital after attempting suicide. “What are you doing here, honey? You’re not even old enough to know how bad life gets,” her doctor says, to which she responds, looking directly into the camera, “Obviously, Doctor, you’ve never been a thirteen-year-old girl.” On her next try, Cecilia succeeds in killing herself, leading Mrs. Lisbon to become stiflingly overprotective and domineering. But she starts losing control of her daughters when high school hunk Trip Fontaine (Josh Hartnett) falls hard for Lux. Coppola (Lost in Translation, The Bling Ring) shows a sure hand in her directorial debut, marvelously capturing small-town teen angst, even if things go a bit haywire in the latter stages. The film is narrated by Giovanni Ribisi and also stars Jonathan Tucker, Noah Shebib, Anthony DeSimone, Lee Kagan, and Robert Schwartzman as a group of boys who are rather obsessed with the sisters in different ways. There are also cameos by Scott Glenn as a priest, Danny DeVito as a psychiatrist, and Michael Paré as the adult Trip, and look for a pre-Star Wars Hayden Christensen as Jake Hill Conley. In an interview with Dazed in conjunction with the fifteen-year anniversary of The Virgin Suicides, Godin noted, “I really hated being a teenager. It was a pretty horrible time, and although I had good friends, I am so happy to be out of that time. . . . I definitely brought that to the film score, this idea of not being loved enough.” You can show your love for A Trip to the Moon and The Virgin Suicides at FIAF on April 12 at 4:00 & 7:30; the later screening will be introduced by DJ SuperJaimie.
“Am I ever going to be able to understand, forgive, and cherish my mother, before time runs out?” filmmaker Gayle Kirschenbaum asks at the beginning of her debut feature documentary, Look at Us Now, Mother! In the film, Kirschenbaum, who previously made the cable hit A Dog’s Life: A Dogamentary and the film festival short My Nose, about her mother’s extreme dislike of her daughter’s nose — and which Kirschenbaum is currently attempting to turn into a full feature, The Bigger Version — spends eighty-four minutes detailing her relationship with her mother, Mildred Abramowitz Kirschenbaum, which was more than rocky from the day Gayle was born, when Mildred, who clearly expected and wanted another boy to join her two older sons, got a baby girl instead. Gayle brings together old home movies, travel footage, visits to a pair of therapists and a plastic surgeon, and interviews with her two brothers and her mother’s friends and first cousins to paint a not-too-pretty picture of Mildred, who lives in Boca Raton and has been putting Gayle down and blaming her since the very beginning. In the film, Mildred claims that she has no idea why her daughter is complaining now, although on one therapist visit, she does admit to at least one Mommie Dearest moment. It’s often painful to watch as Gayle, who wrote, directed, and produced the film in addition to editing it with Alex Keipper and shooting it with Steven Gladstone, relives much of the psychological and emotional torture she experienced at the hands of her parents, primarily her mother, who continues to be nasty, rude, uncaring, and disapproving, even if Mildred doesn’t admit it and even if, deep down, she truly loves her daughter. “We are now off to go to see a therapist,” Mildred says at one point. “We’re going to find out what’s wrong with Gayle’s relationship with me.” 
BAMcinématek continues its month-long tribute to the late Chantal Akerman, which began April 1 with a two-week run of the Belgian auteur’s latest, and last, film, 
Chantal Akerman’s No Home Movie was meant to be a kind of public eulogy for her beloved mother, Natalia (Nelly) Akerman, who died in 2014 at the age of eighty-six, shortly after Chantal had completed shooting forty hours of material with her. But it also ended up becoming, in its own way, a public eulogy for the highly influential Belgian auteur herself, as she died on October 5, 2015, at the age of sixty-five, only a few months after the film screened to widespread acclaim at several festivals (except at Locarno, where it was actually booed). Her death was reportedly a suicide, following a deep depression brought on by the loss of her mother. No Home Movie primarily consists of static shots inside Nelly’s Brussels apartment as she goes about her usual business, reading, eating, preparing to go for a walk, and taking naps. Akerman sets down either a handheld camera or a smartphone and lets her mother walk in and out of the frame; Akerman very rarely moves the camera or follows her mother around, instead keeping it near doorways and windows. She’s simply capturing the natural rhythms and pace of an old woman’s life. Occasionally the two sit down together in the kitchen and eat while discussing family history and gossip, Judaism, WWII, and the Nazis. (The elder Akerman was a Holocaust survivor who spent time in Auschwitz.) They also Skype each other as Chantal travels to film festivals and other places. “I want to show there is no distance in the world,” she tells her mother, who Skypes back, “You always have such ideas! Don’t you, sweetheart.” In another exchange, the daughter says, “You think I’m good for nothing!” to which the mother replies, “Not at all! You know all sorts of things others don’t know.”