A movie about medical science, race, journalist - worth watching

The HBO film The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks (George C. Wolfe, dir.) is a drama in part about the amazing story of the eponymous black woman who died in Baltimore in the 1950s in her early 30s and whose genes were the first that medical scientists were able to keep alive after the woman's death - these genes have been used for decades in the development of many significant medical advances and cures. Throughout, Lacks had been anonymous (the genes were known as HeLa, but her name had never been revealed supposedly to protect patient privacy) and her family was not only never compensated for or given a share in any profits from the sale of her genes but in fact never even knew that she had been part of a scientific experiment. When her adult children learn of this ca 1999, they barely understand the concept - they think their mother has been "cloned" - and they are furious at the Johns Hopkins Hospital for its callous indifference to the family. This story all came to light thanks to the research of an intrepid journalist, Rebecca Skloot (played by the excellent Rose Byrne), who worked closely w/ the family to write the book about HeLa on which this movie is based; the work did not go smoothly by any means, as the surviving daughter, played very well by Oprah Winfrey, proved difficult and unstable and other family members were at times hostile and suspicious. Strangely, the movie is more about Skloot than about H Lacks, which some may see as yet another appropriate of her heritage - but Skloot's attempt to learn about the person behind the story does give the movie a narrative arc and the appropriate tension. The narrative is a little hard to follow at times, w/ so many characters introduced quickly, but there are several dramatic highlights and it's such an unusual story - about medical science, racism, journalist - it's worth a watch.

Excellent documentary about a young man with autism

Roger Ross Williams's documentary Life, Animated is a powerful, emotional, and honest account of the struggles of one young man, Owen Suskind, and his family to help him overcome severe autism that transformed him into near silence at age 3. Over the course of his life - at the time of the film he is 23 - he struggles, along w/ heroic efforts by his parents and older brother and by several teachers and case workers, to make contact with others and to live a happy and fulfilling life w/ some independence. A significant aspect of his personality is that he takes great solace from and finds meaning in Disney animated movies, about which he is somewhat of a savant. Evidently, the clear resolution of crises and dilemmas helps him (and others like him - he founds a Disney movie club at his school for children and young adults w/ special needs) make sense of his world and of social relationships. Touchingly, he in particular identifies with the "side kicks." Some of the scenes of Owen interacting with classmates, particularly with the "sweetheart" Emily, are sweet and painfully touching. One highlight is a brief speech Owen makes at an international conference on autism, in which he says that people think those with autism don't want contact w/ others - but that's not true, he says. We just don't know the clues to help us make this contact. So sad. There's no easy or obvious answer for Owen or others like him, but he's blessed with a great family that can support him emotionally and to an extent financially. The movie is based on the book by his father, Ronald Suskind; Williams does a great job letting the story tell itself, staying in the background, never intervening in the scenes he's recording, keeping interviews with experts to a bare minimum.

A film worth watching for the cinematography alone: Quai des Brumes

We were perhaps the only people in the history of Air France to watch from among the many movie suggestions Marcel (?) Carne's 1938 drama Quai de  Brumes (Port of Shadows), but so we did. Despite the ridiculous viewing conditions w/ a screen in the facing seatback, we could still see that in some ways this is a great movie. The story of a deserter from the Army who seeks refuge and a new identity in the port city of Le Havre is pretty much a straight-out melodrama, but what sets it apart from so many is the fantastic cinematography: Carne shoots much of the picture on location and out of doors, beginning with a foggy night when a truck driver picks up a hitchhiker on the highway shoulder, then many moody b/w scenes of the harbor, the boats at work w/ the crews loading freight, the isolated shacks along the quay - you could pretty much watch it in silence just of the look of the settings. The story is OK, if a little hard to follow at times, and Carne lightens things up a bit with the motif of a stray dog who has attached himself to the protagonist. The air of darkness smothers the plot itself never learn why the soldier (Jean Gabin) deserted, except that he says he's a "wanted man" - he seems to have developed scruples about killing, a problem in the Army, no doubt. On the downside, the romantic subplot is idiotic, but w/ Gain and his love interest, who is supposedly only 17 (!), way way too old for the parts, and fight scenes are without a doubt the worst "stage fights" I have ever seen - worth watching for the comic ineptitude alone. The film is a curiosity at best, but was a fore-runner of other alienated French (and American) anti-heroes; for ex., it's easy to draw the connection between the conclusion of this film and Belmondo dying in Jean Seborg's arms on a bloody Parist street some 20 or so years later.

What makes Season 3 work on Fargo

Season 3 of the FX series Fargo, in which each season is an entirely new plot, though w/ the same Minnesota setting, the same quirky behavior, the same juxtaposition of Midwestern innocence and horrendous crimes of violence, the same indefatigable police detective work (led by a woman officer), and the same bumbling idiocy on the part of at least one feckless criminal (Note: Haven't yet seen Season 2.) About half-way through Season 3 I'm impressed with all aspects - the quirky acting, the establishments of a sense of place (the series captures the wintry climate and the flat landscapes of the north), and especially the tight plot; most of the mystery series I've watched succeed in spite of the story line, which often feels spun out for length and largely out of control, as if the writers are figuring things out week by week and, when pressed, come up with an unlikely and unsatisfying conclusion (with generally an open strand to be picked up in the following season). Like the under-appreciated series American Crime, which also commits to an entirely new plot with each season, Fargo feels in control and logical, if not probable, given the improbable mix of comedy and high crime. All told, a very successful project; more on Season 3 as we near the conclusion.

Get Out is clearly one of the best - and most unusual - films of the year

Jordan Peele's fantastically inventive and surprising Get Out (2017) is definitely a must-see and I hope it's remembered during awards season - it will be hurt by it's early-2017 release date - and it's impossible to talk about without giving a lot of info away, so many spoilers to come so see the movie before reading any further. First, Peele takes on all the black male cliches and stereotypes directly in a way that no white writer-director could possibly have done. The movie starts out (after a puzzling opening sequence of a black guy getting abducted in a suburban neighborhood - the significance of this scene becomes clear by the end of the film) as a family "guess who's coming to dinner" drama: attractive, skinny, white girl takes her black boyfriend to her parents' suburban home for the weekend; she had never told them her boyfriend was black - seems improbable at first but later makes sense as the movie becomes clear - but she insists it will go well, her parents are not racist, Dad voted for Obama, etc. All true, sure enough - but several disturbing things happen: they crash into a deer on the road (lots of symbolism there - a hit and run, a broken mirror - these, too, will make sense later), at the home, the black servants seem weird and almost transfixed, the kid brother is strange and inappropriate, talking about the boyfriend's "genetic makeup." Parents hold a big annual get-together, and people are polite in a bizarre way toward the boyfriend; eventually the one other black guest throws a kind of fit and yells to the boyfriend: Get out! We gradually come to learn that the parents use hypnosis on black men (and women) and then keep them as sex slaves. I know it sounds completely absurd - but we have slipped unknowingly from one genre to another, domestic drama to horror - and w/ a touch of comedy as well. In probably the best scene in the film the boyfriend's bost buddy becomes suspicious and goes to the police and tells them he thinks this suburban family is holding black men as sex slaves. It seems so absurd and the police laugh it off, as we do, too - but we're also him, just as I'm telling you this plotline right now. It makes no sense, yet it does make sense within the terms of this film, original and provocative at every moment. Is there a deeper meaning, an allegory? If so, the film doesn't say so explicitly, but I think all of us in our anxiety about race can see elements of ourselves in this film, in these bizarre or beleaguered characters. Clearly one of the best films of the year.

The good and the bad about the conclusion of House of Cards Season 5

So we continue deliciously loathing the Underwoods right through to the end of House of Cards Season 5 (plenty of spoilers to come) when newly sworn in president Claire declares "My turn," but didn't the final episode(s) strain credulity even for this over-the-top series? Doug as the source of the leaks to the Washington Post about the death of Zoe Barnes (even at Frank Underwood's order?): nobody would leak to the press under any circumstances info that could link him to a series of murders. And FU explaining to Claire that he orchestrated his own downfall to advance her to power and bring him to an even more powerful position in the private sector? That's completely idiotic; he's damaged, maybe indictable now; if brnging CU to power was his goal he would have pushed her to run. Nobody, least of all FU, takes the fall like that. And Claire killing Tom Yates? Much as I hated their relationship - was it supposed to be passionate? or were we meant to see this "love affair" as ludicrous? - no vice-president is going to flat out murder someone in a Georgetown mansion and then call on an aide to get rid of the body - let alone killing a prominent writer and speechwriter for the VP. Speaking of which, the mansion own and political fixer Mark Usher is not a credible portrayal of a Washington insider and deal-maker to me; he's not suave, cool, or scary enough (though he had one good scene with the unctuous Rep. Romero). And now Leeanne (a great role of Neve Campbell) is dead apparently - wouldn't all these deaths of White House senior staffers draw a cascade of media coverage? All that said, the show held my interest throughout, as we wait for the Zoe Barnes hammer to drop - hard to see how CU can issue a pardon that will cover a murder committed before he was President. And you have to love the veiled or not-so-veiled contemporary references throughout, especially the speech about President Underwood: He has no moral compass, will just say or do whatever will keep him in power. Hm.

Another film I stopped watching half-way through

About one hour in to the 2016 Korean film Right Now, Wrong Then we had a power failure, but that's just as well - I was about to eject the dvd at that point anyway. What's all this about?: The first hour of the movie show us a famous art-film director arriving in a small city in Korea for a film festival that's screening his latest movie and at which he will speak to the audience. After some initial awkward flirtation with the young woman assigned to be his guide, he walks through the (strangely deserted) streets and eventually meets a young woman at a small temple. She tells him she's an artist; she's heard of the director, Ham, but never seen his work. Eventually they go to her studio, where he lavishes praise on her paintings. Then they go out for sushi and drinks; he becomes drunk (he's actually a good actor - handles the drunk scene really well, and he's good at the awkward flirtation), and then they go to a gathering of a few of her friends, where one friend puts him down mercilessly. Flash ahead to the film screening, at which he utters some inanities (later claiming he's still drunk) and spats w. the moderator. The end of part 1. Part 2 begins w/ exactly the same shot sequence, but where it was obviously heading was same people, different outcomes. Has this ever been done before? About a million times! And it can work, if the story is in the least interesting, if the character is in the least engaging, if it's not all based on navel-gazing and self-reference. I knew I'd seen another film by this director - Sang-soo Hong - and had to look it up but it was The Day He Arrives - same stupid premise, a film director arrives in Seoul to meet w/ his former (?) students and they go through a series of scenes, each w/ same setting but slightly different nuances and outcomes. For me: Same outcome; I didn't finish watching that one either (no power outage, though).