Films

Welcome to Elm Street (and Crystal Lake): Part Eight

Sue Vaughan
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Welcome to Elm Street (and Crystal Lake): Part Eight

In honor(?) of the new A Nightmare on Elm Street, we’re recapping all of the Elms so far. Find more on the Pixel Vision blog.

The stage was set for Freddy vs. Jason (2003) long before Freddy’s glove made a cameo at the end of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday (1993) — yet another in a long line of misleadingly-titled films promising the last stand of the boogeyman in question (lest ye forget, Jason X came out in 2001). Who didn’t want to see the wisecracking scourge of Springwood go glove-to-machete with Camp Crystal Lake’s burly maniac? Truly, it would be a grudge match for the ages, with two of the most franchise-able movie monsters (combined total in 2003: 17 films) poised to lure both long-standing loyalists and new blood into the theaters. (And even if the entire film was simply a canny marketing tactic, it worked — Freddy vs. Jason was a huge hit, earning $82 million in the United States alone.)

It goes without saying that all viewers must choose a side. And I don’t mean choosing the side of the generic teen actors (Monica Keena, Jason Ritter, Destiny’s Child-er Kelly Rowland)  — after all, it’s only fun when the bodies start dropping, so that ain’t even an option. I remember attending the Freddy vs. Jason press screening and being outraged that the promotional giveaway item was a paper Jason mask. Hold the (tongue-twisting) phone! No glove bedecked with cardboard razors? No disposable fedora? Clearly, favoritism was being displayed! UNFAIR TO FREDDY!

Um, anyway. Nearly 10 years later, I still have that paper hockey mask, but I hadn’t re-watched the movie since its release. Looking at it again last night, I remembered why: it’s just sort of blah. A huge amount of exposition — wherein we learn that the powers of Freddy (Robert Englund) have been nullified because Springwood grown-ups have taken drastic steps to make all the wee ones forget about him, and if nobody remembers him, they can’t fear him, and if they don’t fear him, he has no strength to sweeten anyone’s sleepytime, etc. etc. — leads to Freddy rousing his fellow hell-dweller, Jason (Ken Kirzinger), from whatever stasis the superhuman killing machine happens to be in this year. (For the record, I kinda liked Jason X. Jason in outer space was such an awesome idea, I didn’t really mind that the movie was so insanely formulaic otherwise.)

Anyway, Jason rises, again, lumbers over to Elm Street, and starts taking out the local under-18 population. Word gets out, thanks to some indiscreet cops and a couple of kids who’ve been institutionalized and medicated for the sole purpose of silencing the Ballad of Freddy Krueger. Oops. There are slicings, dicings, a rave in a corn field (wait — a rave? With glow sticks? In 2003? I hope this is a sign of the sense of humor that enabled director Ronny Yu to helm 1998’s Bride of Chucky), and all manner of bloodshed; at a certain point, Freddy gets pissed at Jason (“That hockey puck!”) for killing wide-awake kids he was hoping to slaughter in their dreams. Important lesson, everyone: it’s hard to reason with a voiceless, soulless, heavily armed killing machine.

SO. One thing leads to another, and Jason gets tranquilized. Freddy goes into his dream, and pretends to be Jason’s nagging-from-the-grave mother, kind of a Mrs. Bates in a turtleneck. Despite all efforts, Jason won’t die, of course. (Is it possible Freddy never saw a Friday movie? That’s Jason’s magic power! He is evil immortal! Like, duh!) The kids intervene by driving Jason’s snoozing body to Camp Crystal Lake. (All this time it was terrifyingly close to Springwood — who knew?)

Elm Street dweller Lori (Keena, whose character’s name may or may not be a reference to Laurie Strode from the Halloween movies) has the bright idea of bringing Freddy into the real world, which is exactly what happened in Freddy’s Dead (1991) and probably a few other Nightmares as well, but at this point, I’m having trouble keeping track. Pretty much, it’s breasty Lori’s only contribution to the film, even though she’s positioned as a Nancy Thompson-style last girl standing. Oh, how times have changed … and gotten worse.

Anyway, at last, Freddy and Jason have it out on the shores of Crystal Lake. There is fire, there are explosions, there’s a beheading, and if you really want to know, neither guy wins. There’s no winner! Haha, sucker! Argh. But, I suppose, the end result was convincing enough to pave the way for another clash of horror titans, Alien vs. Predator (2004), which in turn brought us Aliens vs. Predator: Requiem (2007), which in turn probably helped this summer’s Predators get made, and Predators looks awesome, so I’m not complaining. However, the success of Freddy vs. Jason also no doubt inspired last year’s Friday the 13th remake, which was utter shit (in 3-D), and the brand-new A Nightmare on Elm Street, which opens tomorrow, featuring Jackie Earle Haley instead of Robert Englund in the striped-sweater hot seat. How will Freddy fare? Stay tuned for Louis Peitzman’s review!

Welcome to Elm Street: Part Seven

Sue Vaughan
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Welcome to Elm Street: Part Seven

Before Wes Craven got meta with Scream (1996), he tried his self-referential hand at the Nightmare on Elm Street series. The result was New Nightmare (1994), which reunited Heather Langenkamp and Robert Englund as … Heather Langenkamp and Robert Englund. Also playing themselves: actor John Saxon, writer-director Wes Craven, producer Robert Shaye, and Freddy Krueger. Yep, that’s how he’s credited.

Where was there to go after the dreadful Freddy’s Dead (1991)? Not because of the title’s finality — see also: the so-called Final Chapter (1984) of Friday the 13th — but rather its inescapable shittyness. Part six offered more comedy than horror, with lazy deaths, bad acting, and weak puns — even by Freddy standards. But New Nightmare was a reinvention in the truest sense. It’s a film that, while far from perfect, was well ahead of its time. In fact, Craven pitched it as the plot for part three, but the studio decided against it.

That’s probably for the best. New Nightmare works well when it’s referencing its predecessors: that’s kind of the whole point. Part three would have been too soon — that film could have been clever, but it wouldn’t be full of the Easter eggs that make New Nightmare such a treat for longtime fans. And, yes, I’ve been rewatching these movies for the past week and am, in general, above-average geeky: this film works for me in a way it might not work for others. But I think that’s OK. Scream is broader (and better) because it appeals to fans of all ‘80s horror — New Nightmare is just for Freddy Krueger devotees.


Here are 20 references that I picked up on. Some were certainly intentional. Others are the product of my overactive imagination.

1.    The first few shots show the creation of Freddy’s new animatronic glove. A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) begins with Freddy fashioning his glove.
2.    At the talk show where Robert Englund surprises Heather in full Freddy regalia, he taunts the audience with, “You are all my children now,” a line from Freddy’s Revenge (1985).
3.    Heather’s son Dylan (Miko Hughes) repeats “Never sleep again” and other lines from the rhyme first heard in part one and chanted in all Nightmare films.
4.    Robert Shaye jokes, “I guess evil never dies, right?” One of the taglines to part four, The Dream Master (1988), was “Pure evil never really dies.”
5.    Heather’s husband Chase (David Newsom) crashes his car when he falls asleep and gets attacked by Freddy. Dan (Danny Hassel) died similarly in part five, The Dream Child (1989).
6.    Just as Freddy made Dan’s corpse speak to Alice (Lisa Wilcox), he has Chase talk to Heather when she falls into his coffin.
7.    Heather and Dylan’s conversation about God recalls Tina (Amanda Wyss) pleading for God in part one. Freddy’s response? “This is God.”
8.    Dylan invites Heather to join him in his dreams. Bringing people into dreams was the power Kristen (Patricia Arquette/Tuesday Knight) displayed in Dream Warriors and Dream Master.
9.    When Heather calls Robert, he’s painting freaky Freddy art. Kristen couldn’t stop drawing Nancy’s house (and Freddy) in part three.
10.    To replicate Freddy’s glove, Dylan tapes knives to his fingers. In the first Nightmare, the glove is referred to as his “fingerknives.”
11.    The phone receiver turns into Freddy’s mouth and tongue, as it did in part one.
12.    Freddy needs to cross over into our world by getting past Heather, the gatekeeper. There was plenty of talk about gates and gatekeepers in Dream Master, but to be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention to the plot by that point.
13.    Heather wakes from a nightmare with a grey streak in her hair, just like Nancy in part one.
14.    A nurse tells Heather she’ll need a pass to get into the hospital’s restricted area, to which Heather replies, “Screw your pass.” This is another line from part one.
15.    Heather reminds Dylan, “Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep.” She said the same thing to Glen (Johnny Depp) as Nancy in the first Nightmare.
16.    An invisible Freddy lifts Julie (Tracy Middendorf) into the air, then drags her up the wall and onto the ceiling. This is almost exactly how Tina died in part one.
17.    Dylan’s a sleepwalker, which is bad news in these movies. In Dream Warriors, Phillip (Bradley Gregg) suffered from the same problem.
18.    Heather tells John Saxon that Fred Krueger killed Chase. By part two, Krueger was known as “Freddy,” so this is likely an allusion to part one. Of course, that’s underscored by the TV playing a similar scene from the first movie.
19.    The references get even more overt when Heather and John take on their original roles as Nancy and Lt. Thompson, down to wearing the same clothes they had on at the end of the first Nightmare.
20.    While trying to rescue Dylan from Freddy, Heather gets caught climbing the stairs, which turn into goop. This also happened in part one.

Be still, my nerdy heart. I have to admit that New Nightmare isn’t quite as good as it could have been. Freddy’s new makeup, which is supposed to be scarier, pales in comparison to his earlier incarnations. In fact, all of the scenes involving Freddy are somewhat lacking: this is really Heather Langenkamp’s movie. Still, without this film, there would be no Scream. And without Scream — well, I don’t even want to think about that.

ENDORSEMENTS: San Francisco ballot measures

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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ENDORSEMENTS: San Francisco ballot measures

 PROPOSITION A

SCHOOL FACILITIES SPECIAL TAX

YES

This measure would extend a 1990 parcel tax that expires in 2010 by another 20 years, keeping it at its current rate ($32 a year for single family homes and commercial enterprises, $16 a year per dwelling unit for mixed use buildings). The tax brings in $7 million a year for San Francisco school facilities and would finance seismic upgrades, structural strengthening and related improvements of its facilities, and child care centers. Vote yes.

 

PROPOSITION B

EARTHQUAKE SAFETY AND EMERGENCY RESPONSE BONDS

YES

It’s hard to argue against a $430 million bond act to upgrade police, fire, and water facilities to prevent a catastrophic collapse of the city’s most basic public safety infrastructure in the event of an inevitable earthquake. Hard — but not impossible: Sup. Chris Daly, the lone vote against Prop. B, points out that the bond money would be used to upgrade police stations but that the old County Jail at 850 Bryant St. wouldn’t get any help. Prisoners, it seems (even those who are awaiting trial and have been convicted of nothing) aren’t worth protecting. And the Fire Department has been very hazy about where it’s going to spend the cash. So we’ve got some concerns here — but on balance, we’re endorsing Yes on B.

 

PROPOSITION C

FILM COMMISSION

YES

By some accounts, this measure was put together in retaliation for Mayor Gavin Newsom’s November 2009 demand that Film Commission executive director Stefanie Coyote resign — shortly after her husband, actor Peter Coyote, supported Attorney General Jerry Brown over Newsom for governor. But Bill Barnes, who works as a legislative aide for Newsom ally Sup. Michela Alioto-Pier, the author of Prop. C, says Alioto-Pier was working on this measure even before Coyote got ousted.

Either way, it’s a positive step. Prop. C would streamline a convoluted permitting process for shooting films in San Francisco — a process that can involve multiple departments — and would create a one-stop shop. It would also split the power to appoint the film commissioners between the mayor and the board (6-5, respectively), and require that all 11 commissioners have specific qualifications or experience. Vote yes.

 

PROPOSITION D

RETIREMENT BENEFITS

YES

Prop. D is a compromise. Sup. Sean Elsbernd wanted to reform the city’s pension system by mandating higher employee contributions and an end to what’s known as “spiking” — giving some employees a big raise just before they retire. Under current law, that worker would get a pension based on the inflated salary.

Elsbernd wanted to change the calculation and base pensions on an average of the final three years of salary an employee earned. Labor countered that some lower-paid workers only reach their top pay at the end of their careers. The final deal would base pensions on a two-year average. Prop. D would also require future employees to contribute and extra 2 percent to their pensions and require the city to set aside some money every year for the pension and retiree health care systems. In the end, progressive Sups. David Campos and Eric Mar signed on, and the city employee unions aren’t opposed. Vote yes.

 

PROPOSITION E

BUDGET LINE ITEM FOR POLICE SECURITY

YES

Prop. E would make one simple tweak to the reporting requirements for San Francisco’s annual city budget: a line-item on how much is spent on security for city officials and visiting dignitaries. As things stand, the amount the police department spends to protect people like, oh, say Mayor Gavin Newsom while he is crisscrossing the state campaigning for (lieutenant) governor is kept secret. That’s information the public has a right to know. Vote yes.

 

PROPOSITION F

RENTERS’ FINANCIAL HARDSHIP APPLICATIONS

YES

Prop. F would allow a tenant facing a rent increase to file a petition with the Rent Board claiming financial hardship. If the tenant was unemployed, or had his or her wages cut by 20 percent or more, or didn’t get a cost of living increase in government benefits and was paying at least 33 percent of his or her income as rent, the rent hike would be delayed for 60 days pending a hearing. If the renter can establish hardship, the landlord would have to hold off on the increase until the tenant’s employment or benefit situation improved. Few San Francisco landlords would be hurt by the delay in what are typically modest rent hikes — but a lot of tenants could avoid eviction. Vote yes.

 

PROPOSITION G

TRANSBAY TRANSIT CENTER

YES

Prop. G, a policy statement, became a moot point earlier this year, but it’s still good for San Franciscans to affirm the city’s support for bringing high-speed rail service downtown. The California High-Speed Rail Project is moving to create bullet train service from SF to downtown Los Angeles using bond money approved by voters in 2008. Even though that bond measure named the Transbay Terminal as the northern terminus of the first phase, some officials raised doubts about whether the downtown location was the best choice. That rail service was integral to plans for the transit center, which is currently being rebuilt, so the Board of Supervisors placed this measure on the ballot to support that choice. Earlier this month, the California High-Speed Rail Authority considered other alternatives and voted to stay with the Transbay Terminal. That’s the right way to go; vote yes.

Welcome to Elm Street: Part Four

Sue Vaughan
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Welcome to Elm Street: Part Four

In honor(?) of the new A Nightmare on Elm Street, we’re recapping all of the Elms so far. Find more on the Pixel Vision blog.

In the immortal words of the Fat Boys: are you ready for Freddy?

Well, duh. By 1988’s A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, everyone and their (human-faced) dog was ready for Freddy, whose status as a grinning, quotable pop culture icon would only be enhanced by his latest film. The Dream Master is the first of the Nightmare movies to basically do away with any semblance of a plot; instead, the film exists to provide variously surreal, outlandish, and repulsive nightmare sequences that inevitably end in the death of whatever character is chiefly involved.
And that ain’t such a bad thing. Though the behind the scenes credits are sorta impressive, actually — Renny Harlin, who’d go on to make Die Hard 2 (1990), Cliffhanger (1993), and Deep Blue Sea (1999), directed; Brian Helgeland, who shared a screenwriting Oscar with Curtis Hanson for 1997’s L.A. Confidential, and was later nominated for adapting 2003’s Mystic River, is among its co-writers — this movie is utterly ridiculous anytime Freddy’s not the center of attention.

Thankfully, that’s not often. As Louis described in his post on Nightmare 3, the remaining Elm Street kids/Dream Warriors — now more or less integrated into Springwood’s normal high school population —  are the first to go, and they go fast. But wait, you say! Didn’t Freddy get buried in consecrated ground, etc. etc., at the end of Dream Warriors? Yeah, but no matter: before Kincaid (Ken Sagoes) dies, he dreams his dog, Jason (zing!), turns demonic and pees a fiery stream into Freddy’s junkyard grave. Naturally, Freddy comes back to “life,” except he was already dead, or undead, or something, to begin with, wasn’t he? “You shouldn’t have buried me. I’m not dead!” Whatever, he’s back.

Before you can sing a slo-mo jump rope rhyme, Kincaid gets gloved, and ever-horny Joey (Rodney Eastman) drowns in his waterbed. Kristen (now played by Tuesday Knight, who’s no Patricia Arquette) meets a fiery end, but not before courteously extending Freddy’s nightmare-entering capabilities beyond the Elm Street circle: she pulls innocent, mousy Alice (Lisa Wilcox) into her fatal dream. (Freddy’s response: “How sweet! Fresh meat!”) Logically, of course, this means Freddy can now terrorize Alice and all of her friends, including her kung fu-fighting brother, Rick (Andras Jones); asthmatic nerd Sheila (Toy Newkirk); bug-phobic workout-aholic Debbie (Brooke Theiss); and letter-jacketed love interest Dan (Danny Hassel).

The death scenes benefit from what appears to be a bigger special-effects budget than previous films, with Debbie’s transformation into a giant cockroach remaining my personal favorite. There’s also a nice bit where Alice gets pulled into a movie screen, and an attempt at near-artsyness when a scene repeats multiple times to slow Alice and Dan from saving one of their imperiled, snoozing friends. I’m also a huge fan of the scene where Freddy visits Alice’s workplace, the Crave Inn (zing!) diner. Seems Freddy, in a particularly sassy mood, has ordered himself a pizza. A pizza covered in heads! Screaming heads! Freddy spears a head-meatball with one of his claws and excitedly smacks his lips: “My faaaaavorite!” The chewing sounds are amazing.

Later, Alice turns Perseus and “kills” Freddy by showing him his reflection in a piece of stained glass (but not before Freddy reminds us that “I. Am. Eternal!”) And since Freddy has now become not just a slaughterer-of-the-sleeping, but a taker-of-souls (when and how did that happen, exactly?), his captives sail to freedom past Alice in a wash of white light, as if Zelda Rubenstein was showing them the way. Yeah, that’s the end of him, for sure! Er … one more thing about Dream Master is its determined-to-be “hip” soundtrack, with Sinead O’ Conner, Dramarama, Blondie, and other artists contributing tunes. But you can’t go wrong with the Fat Boys.

Appetite: Anchovies three ways

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Appetite: Anchovies three ways

One (of many) of my great pleasures traveling in Italy is eating fresh sardines and anchovies along the coast, whether baked, brined or any other way. Thankfully, anchovies are plentiful — and often out of local waters — in the Bay Area. The anchovy, in particular, gets a bum rap as a too-salty pizza topping. That’s too bad, because it’s fantastically flavorful in the right preparation. Here are three places doing anchovies proud, with their own unique takes on one of the most healthy of fishes.

Moussy’s Basque Anchovies
Moussy’s (named after owner, Jean-luc Kayigire’s, father’s hometown in the Champagne region of France) is a welcoming basement bistro in Alliance Francaise, where you can drop in after French films or language classes (or just go straight there). With new chef, Nathan Ivry, the already charming space becomes a destination for comforting dinner bistro fare: burgers and frites, grilled prawns and salads (more details at The Perfect Spot). Ivry cooks a fine dish of Basque white anchovies ($8), flaky and bright, over avocado yogurt.
1345 Bush Street
(415) 441-1802
www.moussys.com

 

Lafitte’s Anchovy Onion Tart
Open less than a month, Lafitte, with its picturesque Embarcadero waterside perch, is already getting a lot of buzz (see my Perfect Spot early review). Dissident Chef Russell Jackson, whose underground dinners have amassed a loyal following over the years, helms the free-form kitchen that only loosely adheres to a menu, which changes daily based not merely on freshness but inspiration. If you go with an open mind and give Jackson free reign, all kinds of goodness can happen, like an anchovy onion tart that pairs the sweetness of caramelized onions with the anchovy’s salty assets.
Pier 5, The Embarcadero
(415) 839-2134
www.lafittesf.com

Ooh la la, Lafitte!

 

White Anchovies at La Salette in Sonoma
Next time you’re in Sonoma, consider La Salette, just off Sonoma’s idyllic town square, for a Portuguese feast (brunch, lunch or dinner). I’ve not found a restaurant quite like this elsewhere in the area. Paired with Spanish or Portuguese wines, order a platter laden with cheeses, Spanish hams, marinated octopus, blood sausage and the like (your choice of 3 items for $15, 5 for $24, 7 for $33). Don’t miss briny, impeccable white anchovies that taste as fresh as the sea. They also bake a mean plate of sardinhas assadas, flaky and drizzled with olive oil.
452 1st Street E, Suite H, Sonoma
(707) 938-1927
www.lasalette-restaurant.com

 

Visit Virginia’s culinary itinerary site, www.theperfectspotsf.com.

The Daily Blurgh: Terrorists get Triscuits, fascists get beans, gingers get MIA

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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The Daily Blurgh: Terrorists get Triscuits, fascists get beans, gingers get MIA

Curiosities, quirks, oddites, and items from around the Bay and beyond.

Today in refried beans: from ingredient of burrito indulgence, to bane of the greenhouse, to weapon of protest. Even Dennis Herrera is (rightfully) pissed. Arizona goddam!

*****

In “Calfornia lawmakers with no grip on reality” news: this again? When will you learn, Maude Flanders of Sacramento? Whatever kids won’t be able to glean from Left 4 Dead 2 because of your “good intentions,” they can easily pick up in any one of the Saw films (or the evening news). What you gonna do when the zombies come, anyway?

*****

Debate: If a street artist who has already sold out (but is hip to that fact, so “selling out” becomes a meta-commentary on selling out), goes shopping for pricey, “heritage” jeans spun from the souls of kodama on looms built from the remnants of the true cross, is he still a sell out?

*****

“It doesn’t matter what your favorite crackers or cookies are. They are not more important than the hegemonic wars the West is fighting against Islam.”

*****

“Walter Benjamin, or rather, the now-beloved figure of Benjamin — shuffling, myopic, mustachioed, fat, unhealthy, small round glasses glinting like flashlights — was largely unattractive in his own lifetime.” I smell an Oscar-in-waiting for Richard Dreyfuss.

*****

98 years ago: man in drunk-tank saved from fiery death by boozy ways, Providence.

*****

Yes, but what, exactly, is she getting political about? (Besides swiping that riff from Suicide — sampling kills!) NSFW, unless W is Xe.

Welcome to Elm Street: Part One

Sue Vaughan
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Welcome to Elm Street: Part One

In honor(?) of the new A Nightmare on Elm Street, we’re recapping all of the Elms so far. Find more on the Pixel Vision blog.

It’s with a certain sense of outrage, but not surprise, that horror fans greet the remake of 1984’s A Nightmare on Elm Street. Truly, nothing is sacred anymore. (I mean, Michael Bay’s do-over-ator already had its way with that holiest of holys, 1974’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, in 2003.) I can only guess that Freddy Krueger is frikkin’ pissed off right now. (Jackie Earle Haley may be an Oscar nominee, and, OK, a pretty cool actor — but Robert Englund’s the only rightful Krueger in my book.) Pretty much the only thing you can do right now is pull that A Nightmare on Elm Street box set off the shelf and start watching ‘em all. (There are seven, plus 2003’s Freddy vs. Jason, which of course you purchased separately.) Get to it!

Alternatively, you can simply follow Guardian movie geek Louis Peitzman and myself as we recap each film in the week leading up to the new A Nightmare on Elm Street’s release Fri/30. Since I have a little bit of a Freddy obsession (just part of my collection pictured here), I’ll be getting the ball rolling, with a post by Louis on A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985) to follow later today. Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep! (Or be surprised by spoilers, because these movies are like two decades old, people.)

The sporadically inaccurate but nonetheless helpful (and gloriously illustrated) volume The Nightmare Never Ends: The Official History of Freddy Krueger and the Nightmare on Elm Street Films, by William Schoell and James Spencer, is dedicated to “Jason and Michael — because they’ll always be second best.” And indeed, when Freddy Krueger was introduced to the world, audiences were already familiar with Misters Voorhees and Myers. (Hell, Friday the 13th was already up to part four, the hilariously misnomered The Final Chapter, by 1984.) But Freddy had something neither of those dudes had: a voice. He actually spoke to his victims! With a sense of humor to boot! (Though by mid-series he was communicating mostly in bad rhymes and even worse puns. But I digress.)

Legend states that Nightmare writer-director Wes Craven named his most famous character after a junior high rival (no word if the real Freddy ever realized his influence on movie-monster history). The last name came from Krug, the evil prison escapee from Craven’s first film, 1972’s Last House on the Left. Nightmare’s opening credits, which depict Krueger fashioning his trademark glove, feature the immortal words “introducing Johnny Depp;” they also present Englund as “Fred” Krueger. In later films, Englund would get above-title billing. But in 1984, nobody knew who Freddy was, or that they and everyone they knew would probably dress up as him for Halloween at least once. Certainly young Nancy Thompson (Heather Langenkamp), who lives in the white house with the red door on Elm Street in Springwood, Ohio, has never heard of him. But her bitterly divorced parents (Ronee Blakley, loopy star of 1975’s Nashville, plays her drunk mom; cult actor John Saxon plays her cop dad) know a little something about a child killer named Krueger. Seems they executed mob justice on his sweater-clad ass some years before. So why are Nancy and her friends (including Depp as her boyfriend, cut-off sweatshirt-clad Glen) meeting the allegedly dead Freddy in their dreams?

Freddy seeks revenge, of course, and little did those murderin’ parents know their quarry had supernatural powers: when the kids die in their dreams, they die in real life. Even though the parents know all about Krueger, they act like they don’t believe their bratty, rebellious teenagers. (With that rakish fedora, how could they even pretend to forget such a character?) This is a recurring theme in the Nightmare films: parents just don’t understand. Sometimes, they’ll even put bars on your bedroom window to “protect” you after they tuck you into bed, not realizing that growing up is hard, man. Especially when there’s a creepy creep chasing you with fingerknives through your dreams.

Nancy’s the wisest character here (evidenced in part by the gray streak that suddenly appears in her voluminous ‘80s coif after a harrowing Freddy encounter). Not only does she start mainlining caffeine to stay awake, she obtains a militia handbook (“I’m into survival!”) and begins plotting her naps with battlefield-worthy precision (with plenty of booby traps in place). Meanwhile, since Nancy actually doesn’t save anyone except herself, Craven’s behind-the-scenes team does wonders with special effects. Glen being sucked into, and bloodily vomited out of, his own bed is particularly memorable.

The film’s ending is the worst thing here. According to The Nightmare Never Ends, Craven and producer Robert Shaye disagreed on how to wrap up the story, with Craven believing it should end after Nancy defeats Freddy by taking back the power she’s unknowingly given him. Bam! End of Freddy. Shaye wanted more of a “Gotcha!”, which every other slasher movie in the history of the world has, and will always have. Guess who won? Eight — no, now nine movies later — we’re still expecting Freddy to come back.

Big kids appreciating little movies — “Celestial Navigations” explores the work of Al Jarnow

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Big kids appreciating little movies — “Celestial Navigations” explores the work of Al Jarnow

It was science disguised by fun, flashy animation, and people everywhere ate that stuff up like it was a bowl of chocolate-covered bran. Filmmaker Al Jarnow is a dude who managed to make learning fun on Sesame Street and far more intersting than the overbearing bird and crabby monster in a can. Most people had no idea who was creating the incredible shorts that appeared on that show, but if you were a kid or parented one in the past 50 years, you’re bound to recognize his work. And now with an escavation of over 45 films, Celestial Navigations — playing Thurs/22 at Red Vic Movie House — brings Jarnow’s magic back for some instant reminiscing.

Colors flashed, stop motion and time-lapse techniques mystified, and simple, beautiful cartoons turned every day objects and topics into a beautiful experiment gone right. Jarnow’s films played for years and expanded minds in the wee morning hours prior to the school bell’s ring and the punch of the time card. Jarnow educated through psychadelic hypnosis, the eyes of eager audiences glazed over while the fast-paced, brightly-colored animations whizzed across the television screen. I was an ’80s tyke who rolled out of bed excited to watch Sesame Street’s “cool” movies (and Kermit, of course) and when I found them years later on You Tube, the situation is nearly identical: bowl of cereal, blanket, couch and eyes glued to the flashing screen.

Celestial Navigations is the Numero Group‘s first foray into the world of cinema and they’ve collected, color corrected and remastered a flashy bunch of classic Jarnow. The film also includes a 30-minute documentary on Jarnow’s creative process, which I’m hoping boils down his steps in a 3-2-1 Contact Style.

 

Celestial Navigations: The Short Films of Al Jarnow

Thurs/22, 7:15pm, 9:30pm, $6-9

Red Vic Movie House

1727 Haight, SF

www.redvicmoviehouse.com

 

“The Loved Ones:” the complete interview!

Sue Vaughan
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“The Loved Ones:” the complete interview!

Pegged by some as “Misery meets Pretty in Pink,” Sean Byrne’s instant horror mini-classic is by turns poignant, funny, grotesque, alarming, and finally very, very satisfying. It’s sure to be a hit again in the San Francisco International Film Festival‘s Late Show section. Between festival travels, Byrne was back home in Melbourne when he answered my email queries.

San Francisco Bay Guardian: The movie really throws you for a loop by spending the first stretch on serious psychological drama, then springing something entirely different.

Sean Byrne: Well, I needed [to establish] a hero who was uniquely qualified to survive hell. Someone who is conditioned to pain, who feels like they deserve to suffer. He’s a cutter or self-mutilator, someone who tries to block out emotional pain with physical pain. He’s a kid with a death wish who’s forced to endure a literal hell and in the process realizes he’s got everything to live for.

SFBG: Your central female character is more interesting than the usual horror movie villainness in that she’s so spoiled she thinks she’s a victim, which then excuses her behaving monstrously. Where did that come from?

SB: I was thinking about what could make a signature, iconic, highly marketable villain and I noticed how my five-year-old niece, along with almost every little girl, is obsessed with wearing pink. It’s part of the magic and fantasy stage of childhood, where they actually believe the Disney line “someday [my] prince will come.” So then I started thinking, well, what if our villain is a teenager with raging hormones but still somehow stuck in this spoiled, childish, pre-operational stage of development. I imagined “Princess” as a teenage version of that irritating kid in the supermarket who demands lollies and won’t stop screaming until she gets them!

SFBG: I like that her favorite song is self-pity anthem “Not Pretty Enough.” Has Kasey Chambers had any reaction to the film?

SB: I tried to stay within the horror genre but at the same time subvert the conventions, and having our troubled hero listen to heavy metal (the “devil’s music”) and our villain listen to a top-of-the-pops ballad like “Not Pretty Enough” was a way of doing that. As far as I know Kasey hasn’t seen the film. I’m dying to know how she’ll react.

SFBG: Did any particular films inspire you, in general or in making this film in particular?

SB: My filmic influences were a real mash up. Structurally the film is closest to Misery (1990) but tonally there are shades of Carrie (1976), Dazed and Confused (1993), Footloose (1984), The Terminator (1984), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974 original), The Evil Dead (1981), Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986), [and the works of directors] David Lynch, Gaspar Noe, Michael Haneke, John Hughes, and even Walt Disney. The way Tarantino juxtaposes violence and comedy was a big influence. I’m also a huge David Fincher and P.T. Anderson fan. Audiences may recognize some of the influences but hopefully the film, as a whole, will be a fresh experience.

SFBG: A difference between this movie and those associated with “torture porn” is that here both victims and perps are pretty complicated characters.

SB: I hope so. I did my research and tried to get inside the heads of these characters before I started writing. Characters in horror movies are often one-dimensional cardboard cutouts. But really great ones like The Shining (1980), The Exorcist (1973), and Rosemary’s Baby (1968) delve into the psychology of the moment. They answer the question: how do ordinary people react to extraordinary situations honestly? They explore our base instincts with emotional authenticity.

I’ve made a horror movie, so I don’t want to sound hypocritical, but in my opinion movies that focus on the stalking bogeyman are actually kind of immoral because as an audience we’re almost forced to barrack for the killer. We know they won’t die (because there’s always a sequel) and we know nothing about the people being hunted and what makes them tick. So the main point of interest becomes, how much bare flesh am I going to see and how inventively gruesome is the next kill going to be? To me that’s not real horror. Real horror is having a relationship with the dark, extreme side of human nature and getting inside the cruelest of minds then genuinely caring about the people who are trapped in this terrifying web.

SFBG: The film really does dish out some horrifying abuse, though — did you ever pull back on how graphic it would be?

SB: No. Never. I’m not a fan of PG-13 horror. The middle ground is pretty boring — that’s why it’s called the middle ground. But we’re a balls-to-the wall pop-horror movie and as a fan growing up loving horror movies, I know what I like and I think I know what other true horror fans like, and we like to be pushed. Audiences go to horror movies to be scared. The brief is to freak them out so why hold back?

SFBG: Did anyone suggest you take out the whole comedy subplot involving the best friend’s dream date with the school’s goth chick? Although it works — both on its own and to provide some relief from the main action, which might be unbearable to watch without some interruption.

SB: The first draft of the screenplay was basically confined to the farmhouse, where most of the horror plays out, but it began to feel a bit suffocating. Like Misery, The Loved Ones is a kind of claustrophobic horror and also like Misery, which cuts to the sheriff and his wife for light relief, there are moments when the audience needs to take a breath, wipe their sweaty palms and maybe even have a nervous chuckle before preparing for the next white-knuckle onslaught.

SFBG: It’s a good thing your lead actress has already done some other, very different things, since otherwise she might be typecast forever as the horror-movie Girl from Hell.

SB: Yes, Robin McLeavy is an incredibly well-respected theater actress. She recently played Stella opposite Cate Blanchett’s Blanche in Liv Ullmann’s version of A Streetcar Named Desire, and won a Hayes Award for her performance, which is Washington’s answer to the Tonys.

SFBG: Upcoming projects? Have you gotten any overtures from major studios/producers?

SB: I’m writing a home invasion thriller with a unique twist, am attached to a medical thriller, which is a modern reworking of the Jekyll and Hyde story, and I’m in discussions with major studios and producers about a couple of other projects that I’d better keep quiet about for now.

The Loved Ones
San Francisco International Film Festival
May 2, 10:30 p.m., Castro, 429 Castro, SF
May 6, 3 p.m., Kabuki, 1881 Post, SF
www.sffs.org

Taking the Waters

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Taking the Waters

arts@sfbg.com

SFIFF Jessica Rabbit was just drawn that way, Foster Brooks just happened to stumble on his “lovable lush” act, and likewise, actor-writer-producer Derek Waters — he of Drunk History fame — just sounds like he started poking around in the liquor cabinet earlier in the day. In the same way, we all happened to just look up from our many open browser screens and realize our attention spans have drastically shrunk — one of the many reasons Waters believes the histories have been so popular, leading to offers from HBO to produce a Drunk History sketch show and spinning off a host of homemade copycat videos on YouTube.

“Attention spans are way too small to watch whole movies,” says the 30-year-old Waters, speaking from Los Angeles. “I think if these came out in the ’70s, I don’t know how popular they would be.” And who can blame the pretenders, justly inspired by the shorts — and the sight of soused comedians relating their favorite great moments in history (while occasionally losing their lunch or lying down to get more comfy) while actors like Michael Cera, Jack Black, and Will Ferrell reenact out all the blurry details, down to Ben Franklin’s improbable “Holy shit … there’s a fucking lightning storm happening right now outside!”

The fact that creator Waters could get actors like Crispin Glover and John C. Reilly to play, for instance, the battling Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla is yet another plus. “Edison was publicly electrocuting animals to prove his point,” Waters says. “And to see Crispin Glover doing that was a dream come true.”

No fear that Drunk History will swallow up cable — or traditional academic — programming, though Waters says his old teachers have e-mailed to tell him they’ve shown the films to their students. “I think Drunk History is funny for five minutes,” he says. “I don’t think you can ask too much of a drunk person.” The actor is doing a HBO series called Derek Waters Presents LOL instead (“I like to say it stands for ‘Lots of Losers.’ I guess you write what you know”), remaining committed to the short, funny form, as well as the dream of turning his 13th Grade short, set at a community college, into a full-fledged series.

All that makes Waters a primo candidate for a drunken evening at the theater with Wholphin DVD magazine editor Brent Hoff. He’ll be showing relevant shorts such as Bob Odenkirk’s gut-busting The Pity Card — part of Waters’ and The Big Bang Theory‘s Simon Helberg’s online short series Derek and Simon — and talking about that film, as well as, no doubt, the work he’ll contribute to Wholphin‘s next edition.

Incidentally, Wholphin‘s latest issue, its 11th, is a doozy: “It’s the most edible-looking yet,” quips Hoff in San Francisco. “All bubblegum-y colors.” It includes Ramin Bahrani’s Plastic Bag short with poignant hilarious voice-of-the-bag narration by Werner Herzog, in addition to an excerpt from Bitch Academy, a doc about Russian women taking a class on how to snag millionaires — a grim, scary variant of the cheese-cloaked Millionaire Matchmaker — which Hoff describes as “the most terrifying thing we’ve ever put out.”

More terrifying that listening to writer Eric Falconer lose his eight vodka cranberries and then get back up to talk American history? For some, it might be a draw. “There’s something fascinating,” Waters observes, “about someone so passionate about something but not moving forward at all.”

A DRUNKEN EVENING WITH DEREK WATERS AND WHOLPHIN

Mon/26, 9:30 p.m.

Sundance Kabuki

1881 Post, SF

www.sffs.org

 

Red, blonde, and blue

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Red, blonde, and blue

johnny@sfbg.com

SFIFF The evening breeze caresses the trees tenderly early on in João Pedro Rodrigues’s To Die Like a Man. This shift from the furious winds of Rodrigues’ Odete (a.k.a. Two Drifters, 2005) is a signal that the director, ever aware of the lexicon he’s blooming, is adopting a languid pace. Rodrigues’ third feature film isn’t immune to irony, a main one being that slow death allows his cinema to breathe most deeply.

At the onset, To Die Like a Man does not seem like the story of a drag queen perishing from poisonous silicone implants. Rodrigues begins in a nighttime jungle of young male longing, in a nod to Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Tropical Malady (2004), though his vision is much less chaste. Greasepaint is applied to a beautiful young soldier’s face, and upon wearing that militaristic form of drag, he’s soon fucked by the masculine makeup artist. Moments later, the two enlistees happen upon a lone mansion and peer through a window. The pair of ladies within are … not quite ladies. We are in a world where a lush garden is gradually revealed to be a terrarium, and that terrarium is soon visually rhymed with an aquarium. Nothing is what it seems, except that which flowers and dies.

It isn’t until after a gunshot and Rodrigues’ trademark blood-red letter credits that we are introduced to Tonia (Fernando Santos), a buxom blonde who bears a familial relation to one of the soldiers. Not quite weary enough to dispense with her wry wit, Tonia makes her living performing drag numbers at a club, where a beautiful and quite opposite heir apparent (Jenni La Rue) looks down at her from the other side of a mirror. At home, she cares for her drug-addled, dress designer boyfriend Rosario (Alexander David). Her chief confidante, her little white dog Augustina, appears to be slightly more obedient.

Santos’ presence at the heart of To Die Like a Man opens up Rodrigues’ distinctive world view, giving this musical without (much) music a true voice besides that of the director — quite literally in one bravura sequence, where Tonia half-whispers, half-sings a song long after Rosario angrily snuffs it from the car radio, as the world passing by is reflected in a car window adorned with raindrops. The hot-as-hell garbageman of Rodrigues’ O Fantasma (2000) and the leggy lunatic of his schematic Odete are as mute as they are ravishing, but Tonia has something to say, in tones that are smoky and relaxed and resigned to fate. Within English-language films, Divine’s siren song in Hairspray (1988) and Dorian Corey’s backstage aria of wit in Paris is Burning (1990) are the best touchstones for Tonia — ones that reveal the heft of Santos’ performance.

In life, Tonia has not fully crossed over to the other side. To illustrate her ladylike sensitivity, she complains to her transsexual friend and hairdresser, Irene (Cindy Scrash), about a doctor’s blunt, origami-like demonstration of how a penis is transformed into a vagina through surgery. But the man beneath Tonia isn’t immune to a cruise through the dark for a grope in the park.

A true auteur who hasn’t fallen prey to the excessive worship that has hindered influences such as Tsai Ming-liang, Rodrigues is cultivating his craft. He’s aware that he’s still developing, yet comfortable enough about his formidable command that he can casually deploy the motifs of great filmmakers as pivot points. If Odete‘s peculiar double-vision was constructed from the eyes of Hitchcock and Warhol, To Die Like a Man is his In a Year of 13 Moons (1978), or 1999’s All About My Mother changed to All About My Father. (A Marnie poster hints which wing of the Hitchcock library Rodrigues currently resides in, exploring patriarchal and matriarchal ties.) Fassbinder and the larger specter of "’60s and ’70s European art film is hilariously invoked through the character of Maria Bakker (the superb Gonçalo Ferreira De Almeida), a sweet beacon of death prone to epigrams and fits of vamping. In the film’s key moment of ominous reverie, she and Tonia and their sidekicks sit down in the woods and are softly serenaded by Baby Dee’s song "Cavalry."

Rodrigues has a way with sound and image, and the queeniness of the characters here allows him and longtime partner and art director João Rui Guerra da Marta to indulge their own flouncier yet symbolically rich impulses. Tonia wraps a car gift for Rosario in silver foil, and her cell phone holder is a porcelain leather pump — with a puff ball at the heel. Her backstage mirror is decorated with photo mementos of Brad Renfro and Cristiano Ronaldo, and one of her chief stage outfits is like Dorothy’s red slipper turned into an entire dress. In a single shot, a bath towel, bath mat, and dog offer variations of furry whiteness. Twice, the aesthetically heightened naturalism of Rui Poças’s cinematography gives way entirely to fluorescent pastel hues.

Tonia’s story is about uncovering what is buried before one’s body is laid to rest. Her journey crosses through some of the Lisbon landmarks of Rodrigues’ previous films — the fatal intersection and cemetery walls of Odete, for example — while finding rare blooms on the edges of urbanity. A farewell tour as long as Cher’s, To Die Like a Man never tests one’s patience. Forget-me-not is one of the ever-referential Rodrigues’ secret mottoes as a director. Even if life and drag — and the drag of life — persist beyond the end of Tonia, he’s created a film to remember.

TO DIE LIKE A MAN

May 1, 9 p.m., Clay

May 3, 12:15 p.m., Kabuki

May 4, 6:15 p.m., Kabuki

Love, guts, and glory

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Love, guts, and glory

arts@sfbg.com

SFIFF Though there were far starrier, more expensive films debuting in the Midnight Madness section of last year’s Toronto Film Festival, the category’s prize and foot-stomping audience favor was stolen by a low-budget Australian film that arrived with no fanfare, no name actors, and a writer-director who’d made no prior features.

Sean Byrne’s The Loved Ones focuses on small-town teenager Brent (Xavier Samuel), who’s severely depressed from a recent tragedy but rouses himself to attend the school prom — or would have, if he wasn’t hijacked instead for one of the most harrowing first dates in film history.

Pegged by some as "Misery meets Pretty in Pink," this instant horror mini-classic is by turns poignant, funny, grotesque, alarming, and finally very, very satisfying. It’s sure to be a hit again in the San Francisco International Film Festival’s Late Show section. Between festival travels, Byrne was back home in Melbourne when he answered my e-mail queries.

SFBG The movie really throws you for a loop by spending the first stretch on serious psychological drama, then springing something entirely different.

Sean Byrne Well, I needed [to establish] a hero who was uniquely qualified to survive hell. Someone who is conditioned to pain, who feels like they deserve to suffer. He’s a cutter or self-mutilator, someone who tries to block out emotional pain with physical pain. He’s a kid with a death wish who’s forced to endure a literal hell, and in the process realizes he’s got everything to live for.

SFBG Your central female character is more interesting than the usual horror movie villains in that she’s so spoiled she thinks she’s a victim, which then excuses her behaving monstrously. Where did that come from?

SB I was thinking about what could make a signature, iconic, highly marketable villain and I noticed how my five-year-old niece, along with almost every little girl, is obsessed with wearing pink. It’s part of the magic and fantasy stage of childhood, where they actually believe the Disney line "someday [my] prince will come." So then I started thinking, well, what if our villain is a teenager with raging hormones but still somehow stuck in this spoiled, childish, preoperational stage of development. I imagined "Princess" as a teenage version of that irritating kid in the supermarket who demands lollies and won’t stop screaming until she gets them.

SFBG I like that her favorite song is self-pity anthem "Not Pretty Enough." Has Kasey Chambers had any reaction to the film?

SB I tried to stay within the horror genre but at the same time subvert the conventions. And having our troubled hero listen to heavy metal (the "devil’s music") and our villain listen to a top-of-the-pops ballad like "Not Pretty Enough" was a way of doing that. As far as I know, Kasey hasn’t seen the film. I’m dying to know how she’ll react.

SFBG A difference between this movie and those associated with "torture porn" is that here both the victims and the perps are pretty complicated characters.

SB I hope so. I did my research and tried to get inside the heads of these characters before I started writing. Characters in horror movies are often one-dimensional cardboard cutouts. But really great ones like The Shining (1980), The Exorcist (1973), and Rosemary’s Baby (1968) delve into the psychology of the moment. They answer the question: how do ordinary people react to extraordinary situations honestly? They explore our base instincts with emotional authenticity.

SFBG The film really does dish out some horrifying abuse, though — did you ever pull back on how graphic it would be?

SB No. Never. I’m not a fan of PG-13 horror. The middle ground is pretty boring — that’s why it’s called the middle ground.

THE LOVED ONES

May 2, 10:30 p.m., Castro

May 6, 3 p.m., Sundance Kabuki


MORE ON SFBG.COM For an extended version of Dennis Harvey’s interview with Sean Byrne, visit www.sfbg.com/pixel_vision

Not fade away

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Not fade away

arts@sfbg.com

SFIFF Returns are dangerous. The story of Lot’s wife tells us that looking back is enough to be compromised. In cinema, the figure of return can stretch the basic spatiotemporal properties like so much silly putty. Take the two San Francisco International Film Festival speculative nonfictions that allow archival footage to overflow its conventional containers: 14-18: The Noise and the Fury, an epic reexamination of World War I narrated by a fictional French soldier, and Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Inferno, Serge Bromberg’s dogged excavation of the eponymous French director’s famously unrealized film. Then there’s Claire Denis’ return to Africa (White Material), a Chinese documentary portrait of a family’s fraught journey home (Last Train Home), and American filmmaker Tanya Hamilton’s Night Catches Us, a double return (the story of a Black Panther’s homecoming to his troubled neighborhood and a reconstruction of 1970s Philadelphia).

The cliché that “you can never go home again” is made freshly acute in Kamal Aljafari’s Port of Memory, a melancholic study of the Palestinian community of Jaffa where Aljafari is from. The film reminds me of The Exiles (1961) in its urban-fragmentary scenario, well-portioned running time, and lovingly quotidian portrait of a marginalized group. Port of Memory doesn’t announce that the fretful middle-aged woman who goes through the motions of housekeeping and caretaking is Aljafari’s mother and the man who wanders Jaffa’s crumbling streets his uncle — we’re left to piece together these intimate views on our own. As a narrator, Aljafari is discreet but hardly complacent: he intercuts establishing shots of his uncle’s promenades with footage from old Israeli and American films (for example, the 1986 Chuck Norris vehicle, Delta Force) that use the same streets for dubious spectacles of violence and nationalism. Doubling back on these inadvertent documents of occupation, Port of Memory‘s thin line of fiction has the now off-screen Israelis acting as a gentrifying force.

Like Aljafari’s film, Pedro González-Rubio’s gorgeous Alamar (“to the sea”) is set between landscapes (land and sea) and ways of telling (fiction and documentary). The bare frame of a plot places a young boy with his father and grandfather, Mayan fishermen working the Mexican Caribbean. The sweetness of this idyll is tempered by its provisional bounds: the boy will return to his mother in Rome at the end of his compressed experience of a father’s love. Every shot is earned: there are several in which the camera bucks with the boat, physically linked to the actors’ experience. The child is at an age of discovery, and González-Rubio channels this openness by fixing on the details of the fisher’s elegant way of life and the environmental contingencies of their home at sea.

The same well of patrimony and nature has been poisoned in Vimukthi Jayasundara’s surreal fable of destruction, Between Two Worlds. In this mythopoetic work, Sri Lanka’s 30-year civil war ravages on in screaming city streets and darkened forest visions. We first see the film’s central figure — a nameless wanderer resembling many other “chosen ones” — in a death pose, splayed on the beach with crabs crawling over him. Two fishermen trade variations of the story of a prince destined to survive great bloodshed to kill his powerful uncles, and several forest dwellers seem to think our protagonist is the man. The slipperiness of Between Two Worlds‘ reality, in which visions are liable to be doubled or outright contradicted, evokes both the shifting ground of trauma and different rules of oral storytelling. In its best moments, the film put me in the mood of Jeff Wall and Raúl Ruiz; in its least, a slow-motion Lost. But Between Two Worlds amply demonstrates that returning is not always a matter of volition: such is fate and endless war.

Top pic picks

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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0
Top pic picks

The White Meadows (Mohammad Rasoulof, Iran, 2009) This latest by the recently jailed Iranian director of Iron Island (2005) is a stark, visually striking allegory whose natural settings (the salt formations of Lake Urmia) could hardly be more surreal. Aging Rahmat (Hasan Pourshirazi) rows his little boat from one tiny island community to another, collecting tears from variably aggrieved locals so they can be absolved of their sins — just how, neither they or we know. During his latest travels he gains a teenaged stowaway, then a blind-struck painter as passengers; witnesses a couple of village rituals that prove fatal for their main participants; and experiences other curious events that scarcely prompt a raised eyebrow from him. As with so much modern Iranian cinema, Mohammad Rasoulof’s film carefully renders its political symbolism so abstract you can dig endlessly for hidden meanings, or simply lose yourself in the hypnotic black-and-white-in-color imagery of black-clad people on bleached landscapes. Fri/23, 6:30 p.m., Kabuki; Sat/24, 9:30 p.m., Kabuki; Sun/25, 8 p.m., PFA. (Dennis Harvey)

Nymph (Pen-ek Ratanaruang, Thailand, 2009) Boy meets girl. Boy and girl fall in love. Girl cheats on boy with boss. Boy falls in love with tree. So are the broad strokes of Thai director Pen-ek Ratanaruang’s jungle-horror, Nymph, a city-to-country romance that deftly weaves strands of urban anomie, sexual dysfunction, and rural mythos into a dreamy, arboreal fantasia. One might be tempted to reference Lars von Trier’s Antichrist (2009) and fellow Thai helmer Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s 2004 breakout, Tropical Malady, as obvious points of reference, but that would derogate the potency and intensity of Ratanaruang’s singular, artistic design. The director of Last Life in the Universe (2003) and Ploy (2007) creates a tropical mise-en-scène that is less cinematic than immersive, developed largely by his use of tight, suspenseful close-ups, fluid camera work (including a 10-minute opening sequence that is practically gymnastic), and a transfixing ambient score. But unlike Tropical Malady, which leveraged much of its second-half’s novelty from overwrought, homoerotic tropes and a condescending nativism, Nymph‘s descent into the jungle is only the beginning of this powerful love story. Fri/23, 9 p.m., Kabuki; Sat/24, 4:30 p.m., Kabuki; April 28, 4:45 p.m., Kabuki. (Erik Morse)

Around a Small Mountain (Jacques Rivette, France/Italy, 2009) Around a Small Mountain (or 36 vues du Pic Saint Loup) is New Wave doyen Jacques Rivette’s return to the whimsy of 1984’s Love on the Ground, another exploration of theater staring eternal demoiselle Jane Birkin. In Mountain, Birkin plays Kate, a prodigal daughter who has returned to her deceased father’s circus after an unspecified trauma forced her into a 15 year absence. En route she encounters Vittorio (Sergio Castellitto), a peripatetic who instantly discovers in Kate a fellow improviser for his acrobatic feats of conversation. In hopes of learning her secret past, Vittorio follows Kate and her shabby troupe from performance to performance through the tiny towns of the Cevennes. Along the way, Rivette treats his audience to a mish-mash of sideshow sketches, enchanting dialogues and haunting soliloquies, all beneath the magical totem of the big top. The film is spellbinding ode to the theatre of everyday life and the actors who prance in and out of its cirque. Fri/23, 9:30 p.m., Kabuki; Sat/24, 4:15 p.m., Kabuki; April 28, 6:30 p.m., PFA. (Morse)

Way of Nature (Nina Hedenius, Sweden, 2008) Save for when Werner Herzog is doing the talking, documentaries about the natural world often benefit from a lack of voiceover narration. Nature’s seasons, cycles, and rhythms provide their own narrative structure, and simply, silently observing what happens can make for fascinating viewing. Nina Hedenius understands this. Her engrossing year-in-the-life portrait of Lisselbäcka Farm in northern Sweden is cut around creatures great and small — horses, cows, goats, chickens, dogs — and their routines. Although humans are part of the bucolic scene Hedenius so meticulously orchestrates (the sound editing is such that the film would be no less immersive if you watched it blindfolded), they are merely supporting actors. After watching, for the fourth time, another gangly offspring leap to its feet, minutes after being born, you start to realize the ways in which our species is quite helpless. If their keepers suddenly passed away, the animals of Lisselbäcka — domesticated though they may be — would probably manage to carry on. The way of nature is instinct, not mastery. Sat/24, 2 p.m., PFA; Sun/25, 3:45 p.m., Kabuki; Mon/26, 1 p.m., Kabuki; April 28, 6:30 p.m., Kabuki. (Matt Sussman)

Between Two Worlds (Vimukthi Jayasundara, Sri Lanka, 2009) Part vision quest, part historical allegory, Vimukthi Jayasundara’s lush and beguiling head-scratcher unfolds like the mutable folktale told between two fishermen in one of the film’s asides. A synopsis would go something like this: an unnamed South Asian man falls from the sky into an unspecified South Asian country (although the Sinhala the actors speak places us in Sri Lanka) under siege by revolutionaries intent on destroying all means of communication and killing any remaining young men. Fleeing a riot-ravaged city he winds up in the countryside where he reconnects with his sister-in-law, and undergoes several mysterious and mystical experiences at a nearby lake. “It’s possible that one can see today what has happened in the past,” cautions an old man to our protagonist, and Jayasundara — with an eye for arresting mise-en-scene, gorgeously photographed by Channa Deshapriya — attempts to offer a way to re-see the traumas of the civil war that ravaged Sri Lanka for over three decades. Like a freshly remembered dream, Between Two Worlds is as stubbornly oblique as it is hard to shake. Sat/24, 6:15 p.m., Kabuki; Sun/25, 9 p.m., Kabuki; Mon/26, 9:15, Kabuki. (Sussman)

Transcending Lynch (Marcos Andrade, Brazil, 2010) Picture it: everyone’s favorite psycho-thriller filmmaker and coffee retailer waxing beatific about peace, love, and “infinite bliss,” his American Spirit–stained teeth frozen in a perma-grin as he extols the virtues of the “unified field” of consciousness. At certain moments in Transcending Lynch, an exploration of infamous auteur David Lynch and his 35-year devotion to transcendental meditation, the director comes across as flakier than the celebrated piecrust at Twin Peaks‘ Double R diner. (At one point he even utters the phrase “Holy jumping George!”) For the irony-soaked, all the TM talk may be a little TMI, but for Lynch the practice is nothing short of the very source of his creative wellspring. Marcos Andrade’s documentary, which follows Lynch on a 2008 Brazilian book tour, won’t offer the mad-genius Eagle Scout’s more rabid followers much new insight. While the movie strives to be meditative, it’s more of an amalgam of trippy travelogue and pitch meeting. Even more frustrating, we get only teasing glimpses of how TM has directly informed and impacted the artist’s work. Lynch may be on the path to universal enlightenment, but when it comes to the man himself, the rest of us ignoramuses are still mostly in the dark. Sat/24, 6:30pm, Kabuki; Mon/26, 9pm, Kabuki; Tues/27, 12:30pm, Kabuki. (Michelle Devereaux)

14-18: The Noise and the Fury (Jean-Françoise Delassus, France/Belgium, 2009) Made for French TV, Jean-Françoise Delassus’ unclassifiable film would be arresting simply for cobbling together seldom-seen archival footage reflecting all aspects of the First World War, from its leaders to its trenches. But he and co-scenarist Isabelle Rabineau have shaped that footage into a narrative driven by the writings of a (fictional) French everyman soldier who somehow manages to survive and serve in most of its major conflicts. The result melds exquisite color tinting, first-person narration, clips from commercial films about the war (by D.W. Griffith and Chaplin as well as European directors), and ambient sound to create a brilliant kind of living history lesson that makes the events of nearly a century ago seem as immediate as yesterday’s. Mon/26, 4:30 p.m., Kabuki; May 1, 2 p.m., Kabuki; May 3, 9 p.m., Kabuki. (Harvey)

The Peddler (Eduardo de la Serna, Lucas Marcheggiano, and Adriana Yurkovich, Argentina, 2009) Daniel Burmeister is a traveling filmmaker. He drives his infirm jalopy from one small Argentine town to the next, hoping to set up camp for a month and make a movie with the locals. He’ll need food, a place to stay, and a camera. Whatever camera they can find. Usually the mayors are easy to convince, because Burmeister is essentially a regional attraction, a one-man circus they know about from the neighboring towns. It’s this strange repurposing of the filmmaking experience that makes the documentary so distinctive and special. And just watching the old man hustle from shot to shot with his bashful actors, working efficiently from one of the handful of scripts he’s been cycling through for years, is an absolute pleasure. Directors Eduardo de la Serna, Lucas Marcheggiano, and Adriana Yurcovich capture the jury-rigged process with unobtrusive admiration and an absence of condescension. As I watched it I kept thinking it was like the soul that was missing from Michel Gondry’s 2008 warmed-over DIY manifesto Be Kind Rewind. Mon/26, 6:30 p.m., PFA; May 1, 12:30 p.m., Kabuki; May 4, 6:30 p.m., Kabuki. (Jason Shamai)

Russian Lessons (Olga Konskaya and Andrei Nekrasov, Russia/Norway/Georgia, 2010) I remember watching the news two summers ago and feeling confused by the details of the Russia-Georgia War, the culmination of a dispute over the territory of South Ossetia. There seemed to be a haziness about who started what. Russian Lessons offers Olga Konskaya and Andrei Nekrasov’s version of what happened that summer and indicts Russian and mainstream international news organizations for exactly that failure to present a satisfactory chronology. Konskaya, a theater director and documentary producer, filmed events as they unfolded on the Northern end of the conflict while Nekrasov, a veteran documentarian, filmed in the South. The result is a collection of interviews with residents of recently bombed Georgian towns, confrontations with Russian soldiers, and investigations of still-smoldering battle sites. The filmmakers spend an equal amount of time scrutinizing source footage from the war and its antecedents, exposing how it was used to mislead the international community. It’s a disturbing and persuasive rebuttal to the Putin administration’s official side of the story. April 28, 3:15 p.m., Kabuki; April 29, 12:30 p.m., Kabuki; May 1, 6:15 p.m., Kabuki. (Shamai)

Restrepo (Tim Hetherington and Sabastian Junger, USA, 2010) Starting mid-’07, journalists-filmmakers Tim Hetherington and Sebastian Junger spent some 15 months off and on embedded with a U.S. Army platoon in Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley, a Taliban stronghold with steep, mountainous terrain that could hardly be more advantageous for snipers. Particularly once a second, even more isolated outpost is built, the soldiers’ days are fraught with tension, whether they’re ordered out into the open on a mission or staying put under frequent fire. Strictly vérité, with no political commentary overt or otherwise, the documentary could be (and has been) faulted for not having enough of a “narrative arc” — as if life often does, particularly under such extreme circumstances. But it’s harrowingly immediate (the filmmakers themselves often have to dive for cover) and revelatory as a glimpse not just of active warfare, but of the near-impossible challenges particular to foreign armed forces trying to make any kind of “progress” in Afghanistan. April 30, 3:45 p.m., Kabuki; May 2, 4:15 p.m., PFA; May 4, 9:30 p.m., Kabuki. (Harvey)

Animal Heart (Séverine Cornamusaz, France/Switzerland, 2009) This first feature by Séverine Cornamusaz has a story that would have fit just as well into the cinema of 1920 — or the literature of Thomas Hardy or George Eliot 50 years earlier. Paul (Olivier Rabourdin) is the gruff owner of family lands in the Swiss Alps, raising livestock whom he treats better than wife Rosine (Camille Japy). When he’s forced to hire a seasonal hired hand in the form of Eusebio (Antonio Bull), the easygoing Spaniard’s concern for ailing Rosine incites not Paul’s compassion but his brute jealousy. This elemental triangle set amid the severe elements of its spectacularly shot setting has a suitably blunt (but not crude) power; it leads not where you might expect but to a hard-won fadeout of audacious intimacy. April 30, 4 p.m., Clay; May 2, 9:15 p.m., Clay; May 3, 6 p.m., Kabuki. (Harvey)

Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Inferno (Serge Bromberg and Ruxandra Medrea, France, 2009) A painstaking craftsman who left nothing to chance, French suspense master Clouzot (1955’s Diabolique, 1953’s The Wages of Fear) decided to push his own envelope a little in 1964. He cast Serge Reggiani as a resort innkeeper who becomes pathologically, paranoically possessive of his gorgeous wife (Romy Schneider). Convincing himself she’s having an affair, he gradually snaps tether — and the film itself would reflect that downward spiral by increasingly illustrating his mental stage in distortive image and sound. Unfortunately, the project also drove Clouzot mad in a way, as his grapplings at a new filmic language ran counter to the kind of creative discipline that normally storyboarded everything within an inch of its life. Shooting endless footage, spending endless money, he finally admitted defeat and abandoned ship. Never completed, the film’s surviving pieces were restored for this absorbing unmaking-of documentary — even if the original clips, daring then but now looking like psychedelic kitsch, suggest Inferno would likely have been no masterpiece but a fascinating, instantly-dated failure. May 2, 1:45 p.m., Kabuki; May 5, 6:15 p.m., Kabuki. (Harvey)

Presumed Guilty (Roberto Hernández and Geoffrey Smith, Mexico, 2009) A fan of true crime TV programming, I all but take for granted that little coda at the end of each episode reminding viewers that the suspects shown are innocent until proven guilty. I sometimes forget that such rights are not the case in all countries, such as in Mexico where the criminal justice system employs a reverse practice requiring the accused to prove themselves innocent. In Presumed Guilty, filmmakers, lawyers, and UC Berkeley students Roberto Hernández and Layda Negrete use rarely-seen, up-close footage of the Mexican trial process in their effort to exonerate a young Mexico City street vendor who is falsely accused of murder in 2005. The proceedings, which require the defendant to stand for hours on end and are performed sans jury, is riveting stuff for fans of those A&E true crime shows and is sure to ruffle the feathers of a few sympathetic humanitarians. May 2, 3:30 p.m., Kabuki; May 3, 6:30 p.m., PFA; May 6, 3:15 p.m., Kabuki. (Peter Galvin)

Lebanon (Samuel Maoz, Israel, 2009) “Das Boot in a tank” has been the thumbnail summary of writer-director Samuel Maoz’s film in its festival travels to date, during which it’s picked up various prizes including a Venice Golden Lion. On the first day of Israel’s 1982 invasion (which Maoz fought in), an Israeli army tank with a crew of three fairly green 20-somethings — soon joined by a fourth with even less battle experience — crosses the border, enters a city already halfway reduced to rubble, and promptly gets its inhabitants in the worst possible fix, stranded without backup. Highly visceral and, needless to say, claustrophobic (there are almost no exterior shots), Lebanon may for some echo The Hurt Locker (2009) in its intense focus on physical peril. It also echoes that film’s lack of equally gripping character development. But taken on its own willfully narrow terms, this is a potent exercise in squirmy combat you-are-thereness. May 2, 9 p.m., Kabuki; May 5, 9:30 p.m., Kabuki. (Harvey)

The Day God Walked Away (Philippe van Leeuw, France/Belgium, 2009) Director Philippe Van Leeuw states in the press materials that he made The Day God Walked Away in an attempt to understand how the assassins of the 1994 Rwandan genocide could do what they did and how others could stand by and watch. I walked away from Day with a better understanding of what might draw a person to choose defeatism over an unlikely survival. The film opens as a Tutsi housekeeper (Ruth Nirere) finds herself trapped in her Belgian employers’ house, fearing for her children and surrounded by gun-toting murderers. Light on scripted dialogue and featuring local actors, van Leeuw’s nonintrusive filming lends the film an authentic atmosphere that can be slow but is never boring. In lensing the film’s horrific scenes in a simple and matter-of-fact fashion, he eerily replicates the emotional separation that survivors of the massacre were forced to adopt in order to live. May 3, 6:45 p.m., Clay; May 4, 4 p.m., Kabuki; May 5, 4:15 p.m., Kabuki. (Galvin)

The Practice of the Wild (John J. Healey, USA, 2009) “The way I want to use ‘nature’ is to refer to the whole of the physical universe,” explains the poet Gary Snyder in John J. Healy’s succinct but penetrating documentary on the octogenarian poet, essayist, and environmental activist. Snyder’s expansive definition conjoins the two areas to which he has devoted his life and creative practice to better being at peace with: the terrestrial and the existential. Healey provides the back story — covering Snyder’s farmstead childhood, his discovery of his love for the outdoors, his association with the Beats and later immersion in Zen Buddhism, and his two marriages — told in part through the obligatory scan-and-pan photography and contextual talking heads. The film’s highpoints, however, are the many lively conversations Snyder engages in with his friend and fellow writer Jim Harrison, whose grizzled countenance and chirpy demeanor make him a character in his own right. May 3, 6:45 p.m., Kabuki; May 5, 1:30 p.m., Kabuki. (Sussman)

Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work (Ricki Stern and Annie Sundberg, USA, 2010) Whether you’re a fan of its subject or not, Ricki Stern and Annie Sundberg’s documentary is an absorbing look at the business of entertainment, a demanding treadmill that fame doesn’t really make any easier. At 75, comedian Rivers has four decades in the spotlight behind her. Yet despite a high Q rating she finds it difficult to get the top-ranked gigs, no matter that as a workaholic who’ll take anything she could scarcely be more available. Funny onstage (and a lot ruder than on TV), she’s very, very focused off-, dismissive of being called a “trailblazer” when she’s still actively competing with those whose women comics trail she blazed for today’s hot TV guest spot or whatever. Anyone seeking a thorough career overview will have to look elsewhere; this vérité year-in-the-life portrait is, like the lady herself, entertainingly and quite fiercely focused on the here-and-now. May 6, 7 p.m., Castro. (Harvey)

THE 53RD SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL runs April 22–May 6 at Sundance Kabuki Cinemas, 1881 Post, SF; Clay Theatre, 2261 Fillmore, SF; Castro Theatre, 429 Castro, SF; and the Pacific Film Archive, 2575 Bancroft, SF. Tickets (most shows $12.50) are available by calling (925) 866-9559 or by visiting www.sffs.org>.

 

Join the cult!

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Join the cult!

cheryl@sfbg.com

SFIFF If you know San Francisco’s cult movie culture, you know Midnight Mass, the Bridge Theatre’s long-running celebration of late-night movies. And if you know Midnight Mass, then you most certainly know Peaches Christ, the event’s fabulously dressed and tressed hostess.

Many local film fans are already hip to the reason Peaches — and her civilian alter ego, Joshua Grannell — declared that 2009 would be the last year for Midnight Mass’ popular summer-weekend series. Grannell just completed his first feature film, All About Evil, about a mousy librarian named Deb (a killer Natasha Lyonne) who blossoms, rather terrifyingly, into a horror filmmaker named “De-bor-ah” after she inherits the Victoria Theatre. Deborah’s frighteningly, er, realistic short films begin drawing crowds to the struggling, single-screen movie house, with teenage horror geek Steven (Thomas Dekker of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles) looking on first in admiration, then suspicion. Also along for the ride are some familiar faces from Midnight Mass, including John Waters superstar Mink Stole and Cassandra “Elvira” Peterson.

A perfect fit for San Francisco International Film Festival’s Late Show series, All About Evil makes its world premiere at the fest, though it’ll be screening at the Castro Theatre rather than the Victoria, its central filming location.

“The Castro is just like, how can you not want to be at the Castro?” Grannell said. We were sitting outside of Farley’s on Potrero Hill — not one of Grannell’s usual haunts, but multiple friends of his still happened by. Peaches Christ is well-loved in this town, people. “I definitely didn’t want [the premiere] to be at the Kabuki, mostly because of what the movie is about. I think they’ve done a nice job with the Kabuki, but I was writing the movie while living and breathing at the [single-screen] Bridge.”

And lest ye forget, the Castro has a glorious stage. The SFIFF screening will be “like Midnight Mass,” Grannell explained. “But because it’s gonna be the world premiere and I have access to some of the cast, we’re actually incorporating them into the show. Natasha will be there and will do the Q&A. Mink is doing a number with me, and Thomas is doing his own rock number with all the young cast. Which is kind of unique — when do you get to go to a movie, and the cast is doing a show before the screening?”

Of course, Peaches Christ, who has a pretty delightful cameo in the film, will also host. “It’s kind of a marrying of Midnight Mass with All About Evil,” Grannell said. “And it’s kind of a surreal moment for me. We’ve spent 13 years creating live entertainment to celebrate all my favorite movies and now we get to do it for our own movie.”

Fortunately, the celebration isn’t going to be limited to one night. After SFIFF, Peaches and company plan to hit the road, taking the film and a scaled-down version of their live show to different venues (Austin, Texas’ Alamo Drafthouse is tops on the list). Grannell said that All About Evil will also have a limited theatrical release (playing midnight circuits, of course). For faithful locals, he’s giving the Victoria its due later this year.

“I thought, what are we gonna do in San Francisco? The world premiere doesn’t seem like enough. So we’re going to do a run with a full stage show in October,” he said. “We’re calling it ‘environmental theater,’ where we transform the Victoria back to the character it plays in the movie. I kind of think of it as a haunted house, where the characters will be interacting with you as you walk through the doors.”

Grannell is a huge cult movie fan, and his movie clearly references that. But he’d rather you didn’t call his movie a cult film just yet.

“[If All About Evil became a cult movie], that would be a dream come true. But it’s not that yet. There’s a long, long way to go, and only a few movies become that, truly,” he said. “But it’s sort of frustrating: ‘New cult movie All About Evil to have its world premiere!’ It’s like, how can it be a cult movie? Nobody’s seen it yet! I’m hoping that maybe someday I can go see All About Evil at someone else’s Midnight Mass. Someone else’s midnight series. Because then it’s really pure. Cause then it’s like, wow.”

ALL ABOUT EVIL

May 1, 10:45 p.m.

Castro

429 Castro, SF

www.sffs.org

Rep Clock

David Talbot
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Schedules are for Wed/21–Tues/27 except where noted. Director and year are given when available. Double features are marked with a •. All times are p.m. unless otherwise specified.

ARTISTS’ TELEVISION ACCESS 992 Valencia, SF; www.atasite.org. $6-8. Crime Wave (Paisz, 1986), Fri, 8. Films by Kerry Laitala with music by Eats Tapes, Sat, 8:30.

CAFÉ OF THE DEAD 3208 Grand, Oakl; (510) 931-7945. Free. "Independent Filmmakers Screening Nite," Wed, 6:30.

CASTRO 429 Castro, SF; (415) 621-6120, www.castrotheatre.com. $7.50-10. The Lady from Shanghai (Welles, 1948), Wed, 7:30. Presented by Turner Classic Movies with Peter Bogdanovich and Jan Wahl introducing the film; sign up for free tickets at www.tcm.com/roadtohollywood. San Francisco International Film Festival, Thurs. See film listings. "Kubrick:" •Full Metal Jacket (1987), Fri, 7, and The Shining (1980), Fri, 9:15; •A Clockwork Orange (1971), Sat, 2:15, 8:30, and Barry Lyndon (1975), Sat, 5; •Spartacus (1960), Sun, 1:15, 7, and Paths of Glory (1957), Sun, 5:10; •The Killing (1956), Tues, 1:30, 5:10, 8:55, and Dr. Strangelove (1964), Tues, 3:15, 7.

CHRISTOPHER B. SMITH RAFAEL FILM CENTER 1118 Fourth St, San Rafael; (415) 454-1222, www.cafilm.org. $6.50-10. Exit Through the Gift Shop (Banksy, 2010), call for dates and times. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (Oplev, 2009), call for dates and times. The Greatest (Feste, 2009), call for dates and times. Vincere (Bellocchio, 2009), call for dates and times. May I Be Frank, Thurs, 6:30. Benefit for Beyond Hunger; tickets are $20-40. "Red Riding Trilogy:" Red Riding 1974 (Jarrold, 2009), Fri and Tues, 6:30; Sat, 2; Red Riding 1980 (Marsh, 2009), Sat and April 28, 6:30; Sun, 2; Red Riding 1983 (Tucker, 2009), Sun-Mon and April 29, 6:30.

FOUR STAR 2200 Clement, SF; www.lntsf.com. $7-9. Sleeping and Waking, Fri-Tues, check website for times.

HUMANIST HALL 390 27th St, Oakl; www.humanisthall.org. $5. A Sea Change (Ettinger, 2009), Wed, 7:30.

JACK LONDON SQUARE PAVILION THEATER 98 Broadway, Oakl; www.oakuff.org. Free. "Oakland Underground Film Festival: Leading Local Talent:" Everyday Black Man (Madden, 2009), Fri, 7:30; A Life Taken (Banville, 2009) with "A Day Late in Oakland" (Stauffer, 2008), Fri, 9:30.

MECHANICS’ INSTITUTE 57 Post, SF; (415) 393-0100, rsvp@milibrary.org. $10. "CinemaLit Film Series: Day and Noir:" Side Street (Mann, 1950), Fri, 6.

MUSEUM OF THE AFRICAN DIASPORA 685 Mission, SF; (415) 358-7200, www.moadsf.org. $5-10. Sabar: Life is a Dance (Nwoffiah, 2009), Fri, 5 and 7:30; Sat, 4 and 7.

PACIFIC FILM ARCHIVE 2575 Bancroft, Berk; (510) 642-5249, www.bampfa.berkeley.edu. $5.50-9.50. "Film 50: The History of Cinema:" The Beaches of Agnès (Varda, 2009), Wed, 3. "Dotted Lines: Women Filmmakers Connect the Past and the Present:" DDR/DDR (Siegel, 2008), Wed, 7:30. San Francisco International Film Festival, April 23-May 6. See film listings.

PIEDMONT 4186 Piedmont, Oakl; (510) 464-5980. $5-8. "Cult Classics Attack 5:" Coffy (Hill, 1973), Fri-Sat, midnight.

RED VIC 1727 Haight, SF; (415) 668-3994. $6-10. "Invisible Children Film Festival," films about Uganda, Wed, 7. "Celestial Navigations: The Short Films of Al Jarnow," Thurs, 7:15, 9:30. Labyrinth (Henson, 1986), Fri-Sun, 7:15, 9:25 (also Sat-Sun, 2, 4:15). Youth in Revolt (Arteta, 2009), Mon-Tues, 7:15, 9:15.

ROXIE 3117 and 3125 16th St, SF; (415) 863-1087, www.roxie.com. $5-9.75. Breath Made Visible (Gerber, 2009), Wed-Thurs, 8:30. It Came from Kuchar (Kroot, 2009), Wed-Thurs, 7, 9. The Most Dangerous Man in America: Daniel Ellsberg and the Pentagon Papers (Ehrlich and Goldsmith, 2009), Wed-Thurs, 6:30. Call for Fri-Tues shows and times.

SAN FRANCISCO PUBLIC LIBRARY Koret Auditorium, 100 Larkin, SF; www.sfpl.org. Free. "Canines on Camera:" Year of the Dog (White, 2007), Thurs, noon.

STONESTOWN TWIN 501 Buckingham, SF; (415) 221-8182. $7.50-10.25. The Harimaya Bridge (Woolfolk, 2009), April 23-29, call for times.

VIZ CINEMA New People, 1746 Post, SF; www.newpeopleworld.com/films. $8-10. Gravity’s Clowns (Mori, 2009), Wed-Thurs, call for times.

YERBA BUENA CENTER FOR THE ARTS 701 Mission, SF; (415) 978-2787, www.ybca.org. $6-8. "The Word and the Image: Films by Marguerite Duras:" Nathalie Granger (1972), Thurs, 7:30. "Renée Green: Endless Dreams and Time-Based Streams:" The Last Angel of History (Akomfrah), Sat, 2.

Events listings

David Talbot
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Event Listings are compiled by Paula Connelly. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com.

WEDNESDAY 21

"Out in Israel" Various locations, visit www.outinisraelsf.org for more details. It’s not too late to catch some of the events taking place across the Bay Area in celebration of queer Israeli culture. On Wed/20 folk singer Yael Deckelbaum will be performing at Muse Gallery (614 Alabama, SF; (415) 279-6281) at 8:30pm, free. On Thurs/21 Israeli chef and TV personality Gil Hovav will takeover Regalito’s Restaurant (3481 18th St., SF; (415) 503-0650) for a 6pm and 8pm seating wherehe will entertain guests while making traditional Israeli cuisine with a Mexican influence available at two pre fix price points of $25 or $40. For more free events, talks, and performances, visit www.outinisraelsf.org.

"Water Dilemma – Bottled or Tap?" San Francisco Main Library, Latino Hispanic Room, 100 Larkin, SF; (415) 557-4400. 6pm, free. Consumers are provided with yearly test results on contaminant levels in tap water, but the bottled water industry is not required to disclose any testing results. Hear the Director of the California Office of the Environmental Working Group (EWG) Renee Sharp discuss this disparity and the EWG’s recent discovery of array of chemical contaminants found in every bottled water brand.

THURSDAY 22

Book Arts and Environmental Awareness San Francisco Center for the Book, 300 DeHaro, SF; (415) 565-0545. 1pm, free. Celebrate Earth Day by taking part in free activities like free printmaking, green typography, making "Save – Don’t Pave – the Bay" postcards that can be mailed to elected representatives, and more.

FRIDAY 23

Academy of Sciences Neighborhood Days California Academy of Sciences, 55 Music Concourse, Golden Gate Park, SF; www.calacademy.org. Through June 13. Look up which weekend your zip code gets you a free pass into the Academy of Science, grab your housemates and photo ID with proof of residency, and get your science on. The Parkside and Sunset (94116, 94122) neighborhoods are up first.

Earth Day at City College City College of San Francisco, 50 Phelan, SF; (415) 239-3580. 11am, free. Attend this environmental fair featuring live music, instructions on how to compost including information about the new city ordinance, how to fix your bike, how to recycle, and more.

Free Dance Classes ODC Dance Commons, 351 Shotwell, SF; (415) 863-6606. Various times through May 2, free. In honor of National Dance Week, ODC is offering free dance classes in many different styles, like Afro-Cuban modern, tango, hip hop, ballet, contemporary, flamenco, belly dancing, and more.

SATURDAY 24

Swan Day Hanuman Center, 4450 18th St., SF; www.womenarts.org. 10am; $35 all day pass, individual event passes available for less. Show your support for women in the arts at this all day festival featuring a multicultural blessing, a Haitian dance workshop, an open mic, screenings of short films, and more.

Twin Peaks Bioregion Meet in Golden Gate Park, SF; call (415) 564-4107 or email iris@natureinthecity.org to RSVP and for exact meeting location. 4pm, $10-20 donation to support nature in the city. Explore the wilderness of the live oak woodlands of Golden Gate Park, Mt. Sutro, Twin Peaks, and Glen Canyon and learn about species and habitats, issues and controversies.

BAY AREA

Salute to the Women of Congo Fotovision, 5515 Doyle, Emeryville; (415) 725-1636. 1pm, $1-35 suggested donation. Make creative cards to show your support and recognition of the courageous women in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Postcards will be distributed to women on the Congo as an act of solidarity and compassion. Materials are provided, but you are welcome to bring your own photographs.

SUNDAY 25

Hot.Fat.Femmes Good Vibrations, 603 Valencia, SF; (415) 522-5460. 7pm, free. Enjoy a fiercely intellectual panel of voluptuous vixens, fattiesexuals, and fat activists at this evening of body positive, sex positive and size affirming fat girl love hosted by Virgie Tovar. Tovar will read from her most recent work and there will be a photo exhibit featuring hot fatties.

People’s Earth Day Women’s Building, 3543 18th St., SF; www.greenaction.org. 2pm, $10-$50 suggested donation. Join Greenaction and youth and women community leaders from Kettleman City and Bayview Hunters Point for an afternoon of live theater, local foods, and solidarity with these polluted communities that are fighting for health and justice.

Poem for Mother Earth Galeria de la Raza, 2857 24th St., SF; (415) 826-8009. 4pm, $5. Take part in this indigenous healing day for Earth Day featuring poets, artists, musicians, and story-tellers of all ages presenting an afternoon of Bi-lingual performance and action. In conjunction with POOR magazine, a poor and indigenous people led, non-profit grassroots arts organization.

BAY AREA

People’s Park Anniversary Concert People’s Park, Telegraph at Dwight, Berk.; www.peoplespark.org. Noon, free. Enjoy music from Antioquia, Funky Nixons, Phoenix, Wingnut Breakfast, and many more as well as activities, a circus workshop, drum circle and more to celebrate the 41st anniversary of People’s Park.

MONDAY 26

"Leaders at the Lab" Margaret Jenkins Dance Lab, suite 200, 301 8th St., SF; (415) 861-3940. 7pm, free. Choreographers, dancers, dance-makers, and enthusiasts are invited to attend this talk with choreographer Alonzo King, who will discuss the career choices he made in order to succeed in the ever-changing climate of dance-making art.

TUESDAY 27

Underground Market San Francisco Art Institute, 800 Chestnut Street, SF; foragesf.com. 4pm, free. Taste and purchase food that is being produced in backyards and home kitchens in the Bay Area at this underground market presented by Forage SF. The market will feature live music, homemade baked goods, raw chocolate, raw honey, jams, jellies, pickles, kombucha, and more.

In the “Hausu”

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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In the “Hausu”

P>CULT FILM Words fail Hausu, Nobuhiko Obayashi’s 1977 goofy and deranged horror flick. Hausu is the sort of film that makes a writer want, to borrow the site of one of the film’s zanier set pieces, to draw deep from the tainted wells of cliché and hyperbole — to laud it as a trippy, must-be-seen-be-believed, insane, "like [blank] on acid," avalanche of WTF — precisely because such descriptions actually come close to doing it justice. The cult favorite, which has been leaving a whole new generation of fans gobsmacked in its wake thanks to a restored and newly subtitled touring print (its first U.S. run) from Janus Films, finally arrives at the Castro Theatre for a one-night-only engagement that should be the top priority on anyone’s bucket list.

More Disney’s Haunted Mansion ride than Last House on the Left (1972), Hausu starts from a familiar enough premise. A troupe of giggly teenage girls (each fancifully named in accordance with their personalities: Sweet, Melody, Fantasy, Prof, Mac, Kung Fu) lead by de facto leader Gorgeous head off to the countryside to spend the summer in the crumbling villa belonging to Gorgeous’ wheelchair-bound aunt. From there, Hausu enters a class of weird all by itself that leads to many belly laughs and much head scratching: Auntie’s white cat Blanche (Blanche!?) shoots green sparks from its eyes; a piano devours Melody, leaving behind only her fingers, still picking out notes; Gorgeous’ step-mother is inexplicably accompanied by an off-camera wind machine. I could go on.

Of course, we know it’s only a matter of time before spooky goings-on ensue and the bodies start piling up, but the journey is the destination on this very strange trip thanks to Obayashi’s seemingly limitless arsenal of special effects and love for all manner of cinematic flash, his stylistic flights-of-fancy, random plot detours (look out for the ramen bear), and a Monty Python-esque approach to violence and gore. As singular a debut feature as one could hope for, Hausu and its everything-but-the-kitchen sink approach become less random once you know a little of Obayashi’s background: one of Japan’s leading 8mm and 16mm experimental filmmakers of the 1960s, Obayashi was able to channel his surreal aesthetic into a highly successful career as a TV commercial director in the following decade. In many respects, Hausu represents the perfect synthesis of the avant-garde and the commercial. But don’t take my word for it.

HAUSU

Sat/17, 7:30 and 9:45 p.m., $7.50–$10

Castro

429 Castro, SF

(415) 621-6120

www.castrotheatre.com

Mission statement

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Mission statement

By Elise-Marie Brown

arts@sfbg.com

FILM Che Rivera, a strong, middle-aged Latino man, approaches his son with festering anger and fury in his eyes. With outrage, he yells, “Why does this motherfucker have his tongue down your fucking throat?” as he points to a photo of his teenage son kissing another man. “Why do you think?” his son replies in a sharp tone. His rage surfacing, Che leans over, beats the boy, and forces him to leave their Mission District home.

Tackling issues of homophobia, masculinity, and violence, independent film La Mission uncovers the inner struggle of an obstinate father (Benjamin Bratt) learning to accept his son, Jesse (Jeremy Ray Valdez) for being gay. Throughout the film, Che is a dominating machismo presence. By day he works as a Muni driver who strives to keep his bus in line by fighting off difficult passengers. At night he customizes low rider cars and leads a group of friends and family through cruises in the city.

“Che is kind of the alpha male within Latino culture, as well as the alpha male in the dominant culture,” said director and writer Peter Bratt during a recent phone interview alongside younger brother Benjamin. “Something about the Latino community and having a gay son threatens the idea of being a powerful male.”

The role of Che was based on a real Mission resident, a fact that Bratt believes gives the movie more of an authentic feel. “The real Che is a larger-than-life persona. When he walks into the room, you feel his presence,” Peter said. “He’s a brown and proud Chicano who we thought represented the passion and vibrancy of the neighborhood.”

As the film unfolds, the audience starts to learn that Che is more than just a man of aggression. He also feels a strong love for his son and community, despite having a difficult time expressing that love.

“We found it intriguing to take a character like [Che] who appears to be one way and start to peel the layers back,” Benjamin explained. “A real tenderness exists. You don’t see it expressed in words or a physical action, But it comes in other forms.”

After looking back at films that portray men of color as one-dimensional, the actor decided his character would embody an array of emotions and struggles that previous stories had not explored. “When you look at a lot of representations of men of color, they’re often drawn as people to be feared,” Benjamin continued. “Che is a very familiar character that we’ve seen in cholo and urban films. We wanted to pull back the layers and actually show that there is a complex being underneath the swagger and stance.”

When it came to starting the production of the film and choosing a location, the Bratt brothers — who grew up in San Francisco — didn’t hesitate to base the story in the Mission.

“Benjamin and I had already dreamed of making a film in the Mission,” Peter said. “We know about Harlem, Brooklyn, and Queens from filmmakers like Woody Allen and Martin Scorsese. We feel like the Mission is up there with those neighborhoods. It’s just as vibrant, politically and culturally.”

In the four weeks it took to shoot the film, members of the community helped by working behind the cameras as well as in front of them. “We cast a lot of people right from the Mission, which we thought lent a certain level of authenticity,” Peter said.

Although the film takes place in a neighborhood with multiple cultures, traditions, and social issues, the Bratts believe the particular journey undertaken by their characters isn’t something everyone in the community goes through.

“There are a million and one stories going on in the Mission at any given time and this was not our attempt to create the definitive Mission story,” Benjamin said. “Our goal was to create something authentic and ultimately something that would entertain and enlighten you.” *

LA MISSION opens in Bay Area theaters Fri/16.

 

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